A maze of jagged canyons and bone-dry riverbeds, the Marashi Wastes are as deadly as they are desolate. The land is a battlefield of stone, where sheer cliffs cast endless shadows and the wind wails like a chorus of the damned. Here, the Marashi—jackal-headed nomads with keen eyes and sharper blades—rule as merciless hunters, striking from the rocks with inhuman speed. They know every hidden pass, every concealed spring, and to those who trespass without offering, the only mercy is a quick death.