The Cinderlands announced themselves with heat.
Not the humid warmth of the Green Basin or the ambient divine warmth of Ashenveil's temples. This was geological heat — the deep-earth fire that rose through fissures in the volcanic plateau and made the air shimmer like glass above a forge. The temperature increased steadily as the trade road climbed from the lowland junction into Vaelthyr's territory, and by the time Ryn's caravan crested the final ridge, the air was warm enough that breathing felt like drinking heated water.
