The desert winds have not yet settled since the confrontation with the Black Heart. Qalib Aswad may be fractured, its leader slain, but the echoes of its brutality still haunt the sands. Whispers of renegade zealot Kraals, of rituals yet unfinished, drift through the dunes like the last dying breaths of a storm. A storm which fades before the looming threat on the horizon.

And now, the road ahead carries its own uncertainties. Wadi Haffid calls. Summoned by the will of the Padishahs, the great Kraals of the North must gather. Some claim it is to forge peace, to prevent a war that would drench the desert in blood. Others say it is already too late.

On the way, you find yourself drawn to an old Caravanserai, a rare haven in the endless expanse. Travelers and traders, warriors and wanderers, all take respite here before the final leg of the journey. An uneasy truce still holds as the will of the Padishahs is yet unclear. Deals will be struck, words will be whispered, and new alliances may form in the firelit shadows. But rest lightly… for the sands have ears, and not all who drink from the same well do so with good intentions.

The journey is not yet over, the road to Wadi Haffid is long… and the desert never sleeps