At a distance, the unnamed landmass known to many as the Land of Firegrass is a enigma to even the most intrepid explorer.
Most sensible sailors simply turn away even before setting foot on the isle, fearing the strange crimson growth that gives it an eerie appearance, that has even the most hardy of adventurers thinking twice before daring to set foot on the shores.
In the interior, the red grasslands seems to have chocked any competing vegetation, leaving no forests to be found, and if there are larger creatures here than the odd seagull circling the shores, no one have seen them and spoken of them.
The great egg-shaped monoliths that dot the interior have remained undisturbed here for centuries. After all, what if they truly are eggs? What manner of creature would have eggs this size?
But, as with most other places, there are still humans to be found. These little communities are often situated on stilt houses near the many coves that offers shelter from the harrowing storms that often plague the Warded Sea.
The people there are a odd bunch, bartering if asked, but are isolationistic and deeply distrustful of anyone not speaking a derivative of Wavetongue.
Their main export are the agate-stones found in the white-water rushes falling from the mountains, and without those, the isle would starve, as little grows there due to the sunset colored Firegrass. Without the trade they conduct, they would have no access to grains or fruit-seeds.
Fortune did smile upon them, when Djemkainen Sul, a Guild Factor, had a floating palace built off the shores of the unnamed landmass, employing the sea currents around the isle as the nexus of his trade network between the Siren Chains and the southern-western Threshold.
Of course, the locals are deeply exploited by the unfavorable exchange rates, but the Guildsman understand that he can only push them so far.
Yet, increased taxes have forced him to consider claiming the agate-panning rushes for himself, to cut out the middle man.
However, a foolish man might be bold enough to disregard the hazards inland, but Sul knows of the spirits of the Firegrass Land and of the locals who worship them in return for protection.
Thus, he awaits the arrival of the Immaculate Monks of Ji-Yun, seeking to end the era where the Gods of the Firegrass Court ruled the entire isle as they pleased.
When Calibration has passed, the Guild would be able to mine the precious stones with no interference.