Tekhen

**Tekhen** is a large trading town located about an oasis in the great deserts of north-west Kubrajzar. It belongs to the Qabar-Kirkanshir cultures. The Circle of the Turning Away is particularly active across the cultural sphere of the Qabar-Kirkanshir.

## Quotes

> It had been three days since they had left to transport goods to **Tekhen**, abandoning their own encampment, and the heat had been particularly unbearable, even for her tribe--while they, being alminaki-human amalgams, did not need quite so much water, the incredible heat had dried out the well they usually used around this time of year and they had been forced to dip into their reserves of water far earlier than normal. It was almost as if the sun had been kindled into a funeral pyre by some strange event, and the arid dryness of the badlands had been amplified far beyond the point of survivability. Her camel lurched another step forward and Rahma was shunted forward with it, dropping the sorry excuse for a rag and watching as it got trodden into the clay-red soil. She snorted under her breath before unfurrowing her brow and realising that it was probably for the best that it could not suffer anymore--it wasn't like it had been actually bringing her any relief or comfort for the past two days.
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> She gave her camel a fond stroke before using her now free hand to pat down the goods she was managing to carry with her, making sure that it was all still securely hitched. A few ingots of copper, an awl, an axe--as well as their living and camping essentials-- and a hempen sack that bore a pot containing *lebahr khan* (soured camel milk), some *tehr* (unleavened bread, baked into large sheets and stored almost like scrolls), and some yak jerky that had just about been ready when they'd decided to leave. Truth be told, there was little else of value or note on her camel, as her brother Serrah had taken the brunt of the load they shared. But the conditions were so uncomfortable that even this relatively light load was cumbersome to bear. ...
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> It was not uncommon for death to creep upon the sleeping, as it had upon their hukkam, and forget to take his soul. Even now Zahna could hear the crippled song of the soul within the man. Only yesterday he had been full of laughter, his eye gleaming with determination in the midday sun, and his song bursting forth fully-formed and beautiful, tickling the songs of all and inspiring them onward - *not long friends, not long comrades, until before our sight great **Tekhen** shall arise. ...*
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> The transition from the mundane to the--comparatively--divine had been absolutely staggering. Then, as they’d reached **Tekhen**, she’d met the first of her… siblings? Compatriots? She knew not what to call them other than those who had similarly been chosen for a destiny beyond the mundane. Naomh Chruinne, as he’d introduced himself, had brought to her attention eight wondrous mirrors through which Naomh Cagairean could see the endless Dream itself, glinting slightly in half-remembered light and just beyond recollection.
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## References

1. ↑ https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5112423
2. ↑ https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5121080