Duratos, the city of sand, however in reality this "City" is more of a deserted town these days. The skies above are clouded over by sand flying over the tops of the high concrete walls, a small amount of magical energy makes a light and see through film over the top of the city and cannot be penetrated by the sands, it glows an ever so slight purple in colour and shines strong, repelling any settling sand.
The town is early empty for its size, only two or three people can be seen treading the paths in the distance calls of merchants trying to sell their wears are herd and sometimes the laugh of children as they make castles on the floor.
The tavern door down the main street can be heard swinging on its hinges, a vague sound of soft music coming from within, mild chattering as well as the occasional clinking of glass.
In the center of the town, viewed from down the street, a well stands tall and proud, a bucket tied by a piece of string sits on its wall and a handle at the side slowly rocks back and forward in the wind.
The wind around you feels dry but not harsh like the winds in the desert, the sand here does not whip up int your eyes to blind you but seemingly shuffles its own way across the floor like the ever moving waves of the ocean.
In the town center there's a variety of shops dotting around the inner walls of the town, around the well, traders have set up a few stands on the outside which seem relatively quiet, only two or three people looking around them, a few humans and a beast-kin, sat on the edge of the well, its tail dangling in and twitching about as it watches the waters below.
One of the shops however turns out to not be a shop at all but rather a travelers in for the world weary. This Inn is the traditional staying place for anyone who's setting out to try and get to the mountains or even the fabled changeling oasis.
As you walk along the pathways however you notice that not only is this place quiet, but there is hardly anyone to be found.