The Sand Kingdoms rose from the shifting sands of the western desert, a
land many call the cradle of civilization. Long ago, enigmatic nomads—menkin
distinct from the folk of the Empire—wandered into the Great Desert. There,
among the dunes, they uncovered the ruins of a forgotten age, strewn with
relics of strange and potent design.

They settled in these hollowed places, enduring the desert’s cruelty
while piecing together fragments of the wisdom left behind. From lost texts and
shattered rites they unearthed the laws of magic, and with them turned
wasteland into oasis. What began as scattered havens swelled into the greatest
cities of Calad, their wealth and power founded upon trade and arcana.

Yet the first kingdoms were far from noble—paradises only for the mighty
and cruel. It was not until the rise of the Grand Academy that unity took hold,
binding the nomes under its seal and tempering bloodshed with learning and law.

The Sand Kingdoms are the greatest center of magical learning in all of
Calad—a realm where arcane knowledge is not only studied but mastered, refined,
and evolved. From Men’Nefer and its Grand Academy flow discoveries that shape
the whole continent, making the desert not just a cradle of civilization, but
the beating heart of sorcery itself.

Though menkin in the Empire are rarely gifted, in the Sand Kingdoms
their children are often born with the spark of magic. Those marked by this
gift are swiftly taken into patronage, enrolled in schools, and trained in the
arcane arts, their fates bound to the path of study. Yet even so, the gift
remains less common than among the Rin, who remain the most naturally attuned
to mana.

Humans, unlike the Rin, lack a body resistant to mana’s corrosive touch.
They cannot endure prolonged overexposure. Where Rin may suffer soulrot only
after long abuse of magic, humans risk its blight far sooner. This frailty
shapes their practice: careful, disciplined, and endlessly inventive—crafting
wards, rituals, and constructs to extend their reach without destroying
themselves.

The people of the Sand Kingdoms are as varied as the nomes themselves. A
slight majority are menkin, their features distinct from the imperials of the
north: skin bronzed by the desert sun, sharp profiles, and enduring builds
honed by life in the sands. Among them dwell the rare Rin—darker-skinned than
their kin elsewhere—and the chimera tribes, beastkin of many forms whose
lineage traces back to the sacred oasis of the Asha.

Dress balances function with splendor. Loose robes, flowing fabrics, and
layered veils shield from the desert sun, dyed in vivid hues and marked with
sigils or geometric patterns. Within the cities, garments grow elaborate and
jeweled, symbols of status and wealth, while in the open desert, attire remains
austere—built for endurance above all.

The people of the Sand Kingdoms are defined by ambition and resilience. They prize knowledge, skill,
and achievement above birth or blood. Society is a meritocracy: arcanists rise
to rule by virtue of their mastery.

Life in the nomes is vibrant and layered. Markets overflow with goods
from across Calad, taverns bustle with mercenaries, and scholarly halls hum
with debate. Yet beneath the brilliance lies stark division: the gifted wield
influence and wealth, while the Ungifted labor in their shadow. Still, even the
low-born may climb the ladder, for talent—whether in magic, craft, or
cunning—can carve a path to prominence.

The Sandlanders are often seen by outsiders as
shrewd, proud, and unyielding.