Khopshef Province

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The Hyborian deserts contain secrets older than mankind itself. Nowhere is this more evident than in night-haunted Stygia, home to sorcerer-priests who worship the great serpent god Set.

Its cities rise like dusky jewels from the fertile lands on southern banks of the dark river Styx, where slaves are sacrificed every day to slake the hunger of the Great Serpent. Scholars pore through crumbling texts for hints of lost knowledge that lie hidden among the trackless sands. For in Stygia, dark knowledge is the path to true power.

East of the coastal city of Khemi, Khopshef Province boasts no great cities — only fabled ruins recounted in ancient legends and caravan tales. Newcomers arriving in the province at the small village of Bubshur hear stories of a great and ancient pyramid that lies along a tributary of the Styx some distance to the south. Of late, an enigmatic oracle of the Shemite goddess Derketo has braved the haunted lands around the pyramidal tomb and laid claim to a temple structure adjoining the ancient pyramid, where his worshipful followers serve his every whim. What the arrival of this oracle portends and why he chose to settle so close to the mysterious crypt, no one knows. And local fishermen who risk the crocodile-infested waters of the river Styx speak of the bleak island west of Pashtun and the strange ruins located there, said to be a temple dedicated to gods that were old when Atlantis still rode above the waves.

Meanwhile, the people of Khopshef Province pray to their gods and try to go about their lives, mining salt from the flats around the village of Hep-Kab or welcoming the caravans traveling from Medjool Oasis to the south. They keep out of the punishing sunlight at midday and ward their houses against the evils of the night.

But all is not well among the people of the region. The island town of Pashtun, an independent village claimed by neither Stygia nor Shem, has become the hunting ground for a fearsome monster that stalks its citizens each night. Each morning the bloodless corpses of its victims can be found lying along the village’s dusty streets, or empty boats are found drifting in the river’s sluggish current. The village leaders have turned to the oracle, seeking an explanation for the deadly rampage, but he answers them only in riddles.

Now, each evening, as the red sun stains the western sky, the people of Khopshef Province glance furtively downriver and await a hero who will stand between them and the horrors that lurk in the darkness.