The most prominent feature of the Lands of Autumn is undoubtedly the Tempest; A churning vortex of sorcerous energies, miles wide, whose unearthly radiances bathe the surrounding lands in perpetual twilight and whose eldritch fields twist and shape the earth and sky for miles around. Those who bask directly in its un-light are gradually sapped of sanity and twisted in body until they become little more then deformed animals. Surrounding it is a barren wasteland of sand and rock, sparsely dotted with the corpses of deities and inhabited by mutant schorpions, H’san tribesmen, cannibal warbands and the horrors that are birthed in its heart.
The Tempest is not the cause of the slow death that befalls the world of the Age of Dusk but it is the focal point. It was here, in countless ages past, that the half-human Sorcerer Kings of Tzyan met the hosts of the old gods in battle. It was here that they employed the most abhorrent and fearsome of all their creations. It was here they deployed their Weapon.
Of the Old Gods, those that could still die were rendered unto nothing or smitten down to lie upon the sands, untouched by rot and the ravages of time, forever preserved at the moment of their demise. Those that could not truly die were shattered in form and spirit, their fragments blown along ethereal storms in the heart of the Tempest to this day. Tzyan and its cohorts burned with witchfire in the backlash. The fabric of sorcery heaved and buckled and the towers of Tzyan were rendered empty husks, inhabited by deathless abominations. So began the Age of Dusk.
The splintered remnants of the Old Gods churn within the Tempest still, occasionally coalescing into a temporary consciousness, only to dissipate once more as the winds change. The H’san claim the thoughts of these ephermal gestalt-creatures bring nightmares, madness and visions to the men of the Lands of Autumn, but none believe them, for the H’san are savage and deceitful and will accept no master but themselves. The H’san claim also that these divine chimerae will sometimes escape their prison and prowl the Tempest Lands, wreaking great havoc, but these must also be lies.
Despite the dangers, some set out for the Tempest Lands in search of ancient Tzyanese artifacts, the flesh of fallen deities or the heart of the Tempest itself. Scholars, seers and prophets proclaim that the heart of the Tempest must hold the knowledge of the gods themselves. The H’san, masterless and deceitful though they may be, will band together to capture and dismember all who attempt to reach the Tempest, leaving the maimed behind to appease the Horrors that walk the wastes. The Tempest lands are littered with blood-drenched standing stones inscribed with dire warnings, proclaiming that any who enter the Tempest will usher in Final Night and extinguish what little life the world has left. If there is any truth to these words it remains to be seen.