Ankhwugaht
The Midnight Desert
Soundtrack for Ankhwugaht
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In this realm Stygia’s frigid ice yields to an endless midnight desert, under the ever-watchful eye of Set, the Serpent of Shadows. Crossing the border, you’ll feel the air here like a stinging slap—a searing, brutal heat that makes a body forget they ever shivered. And while the rest of Stygia might freeze your bones, here the sands themselves give off a feverish heat, like they’ve been brooding over Set’s dark secrets for a thousand years.
The whole realm’s shrouded in a perpetual dusk, a stark palette of burnt ochre and ash against the soot-stained sky. The light never shifts beyond this grim twilight. There’s no sun, just a seething horizon of rusty reds and oranges bleeding around Set’s pyramid, which you can’t escape no matter where you venture in the realm. Wherever you stand, the pyramid looms before you, the tallest thing in the sky. Turn your back on it and the shadow is cast over you instead. It feels like you have Set’s own eye watching your every action. But that’s just a feeling, right? Unfortunately no, the chant goes that Set can see anything that goes in inside his realm. Well, when he’s not off helping Ra battle the serpent Apep, anyway.
Ankhwugaht has a distinctive soundscape too. It’s not the quiet you’d expect from a desert, there’s a sigh in the sand as if the realm itself is breathing, and with it come the hisses and rattles of unseen serpents. Crocodiles bellow by the shadowed riverbeds, and hyenas cackle in the night, almost like hags. And if you’re really unlucky you’ll hear the scorpions—Set’s most faithful sentinels, their claws clicking and clacking like the ticking of a clock, as they wait for their chance to strike.
Burgs of Ankhwugaht
The two main burgs, Khas-tep and Tukhamen, follow a similar architectural pattern—both have a smaller pyramid at the centre, where justice is meted out like the cracking of a whip. Life in these burgs is bound by Set’s law, brutal and absolute, under the iron hand of Omikrostis (greater mummy proxy of Set [he/him] / LE), the desiccated husk who claims dominion here on Set’s behalf.
Chant goes that Omikrostis has his hands full, mind, with a thorn in Set’s side known only as Ibis. This priest of Osiris is hidden by some potent enchantments, spreading rebellion from the ample shadows. This blood works to recover spirits stolen by Set from their rightful afterlives, acting as the most subtle of adversaries. If you’ve any sympathy for the cause of Osiris or a grudge against Set, you might find him seeking you out.
Khas-tep is the more imposing of the two burgs, built in the ancient style with towering columns, wide stone streets, and statues that loom over the heads of all who walk in Set’s shadow. It glitters like a dark jewel within Stygia’s frozen hellscape. Columns line the main avenue, carved into the forms of warriors and slaves, faces twisted in frozen cries or silent, watchful stares.
In contrast, Tukhamen rises out of the desert like a cursed vision, all twisted grandeur and harsh lines—dark, sleek, and unyielding. The buildings are cut from black basalt and capped with inlaid polished obsidian, which reflects the dull, reddish glow of dusky sky. The stones are etched with images of coiling serpents, jackals, and other predatory beasts loyal to Set. Dimly burning braziers flicker along the streets, casting shadows that make the carvings twist and dance. There’s a hush here, the kind that implies something far bigger than any mortal is listening.
The roads are wide enough for chariots, although few can be found in these parts. Cutters tend to walk on foot, while the high-ups in the clergy of Set ride on the backs of massive, enchanted crocodiles, their spiked hides inlaid with metal bands and glyphs of protection.
Dangers and Treasures of the Dark Desert
The perils in Ankhwugaht are as nefarious as Set’s ambitions. Mummies patrol the deeper sands, the loyal bloodhounds of Set. As for the living, all manner of beasts—scorpions, cobras, jackals, and the like—hunt down any berk with a whiff of goodness clinging to their soul. If you’re a cutter cursed with a shred of decency, your only hope is to stick close to one of Set’s proxies or duck into one of the burgs where the wild beasts can’t smell your virtue so easily.
Necromancy here is a strange beast; it’s as if the land itself grants it a twisted (un)vitality, boosting the strength of dark magic when it’s wielded with malice. It’s a curse and a boon—only the most twisted should try it, but it could be potent enough to make an escape, or an impact.
Despite the danger, there’s a valuable prize to be found here for those with nerve—the blossom of Desert’s Night. Fetching a thousand jinx apiece, a canny merchant might be able to turn a hefty profit trading these blooms beyond Ankhwugaht. If used correctly (and if you don’t mind the risk of soul-rending madness), it’s rumoured to restore memories lost to the Styx. Any fool with gaps in their mind might pay a king’s ransom to piece their past back together—and chant goes that this rare blossom is the only cure known.
The Great Pyramid of Set
At the heart of the realm looms Per-Set, the Great Pyramid, a structure of impossible proportions that dominates the skyline. It’s built from polished black stone so dark it swallows even the brightest light, seeming to draw it in rather than reflect it back. Per-Set’s sides are covered in hieroglyphic inscriptions—curses and prayers woven together, a written maze of Set’s Law, which details in excruciating detail the fate awaiting anyone who dares defy his will.
At its peak sits an enormous emerald, like a colossal, lidless eye that surveys the realm before it, magnifying Set’s gaze into a physical presence. This is his power made manifest, his throne and his scrying tool. Inside, Set himself is said to reside in a chamber at the very base, where he can “see” all, gazing out upon his land as if each wall were transparent. His reach is literal; he can pierce walls, minds, and the flimsy wards of mortals.
Around the pyramid, lesser temples sprawl in perfect symmetry, each honouring Set’s different aspects: Lord of Darkness, Devourer of Souls, Keeper of the Black Sands. Here, his priests administer to the people, doling out Set’s “gifts” to those who please him—and punishment to those who don’t.
Life Under Set’s Rule
In Ankhwugaht, loyalty is survival. Those who live here are bound to Set by oaths, curses, and sheer necessity. A body’s either a servant, a soldier, or a petitioner seeking proxyhood—a status they can’t reach unless Set himself deems them worthy. Life’s here’s a merciless grind for most bashers, their duties assigned according to the whims of Set’s proxies. Fields are tilled under the watch of overseers who enforce discipline with such cruel precision, that even the smallest infraction risks a body taking a one-way trip to the dungeons below the pyramid, where punishments are both creative and final.
Judgement in Per-Set is a theatrical ordeal, meted out in the lesser pyramids that flank the Great Pyramid like obedient sentinels. The accused are brought forth, tried within minutes, and handed their fate. Swift, sharp, and rarely merciful, the justice here is doled out in Set’s name—always within the letter of the law, but it’s law that’s twisted enough to be unrecognisable to outsiders. Cutters also call the place the “City of the Last Breath,” for once you’re in Set’s grip, he doesn’t tend to let go.
Despite the city’s brutal regime, Per-Set has a thriving marketplace. Spices, rare silks, gemstones, wondrous magical items fill the stalls—though commerce is closely watched by Set’s agents, who collect a portion of every trade. And, if a merchant is found wanting or dishonest? They vanish into the pyramid’s dungeons, and Set’s retainers redistribute their wares as they see fit.
Ankhwugaht is a study in fear and power, a reminder of what absolute control and order truly mean in the hands of a god obsessed with his own dominion. The petitioners here must learn fast that loyalty isn’t enough, and that survival requires more than mere cunning. To endure the weight of Set’s gaze, a soul must learn to keep secrets even from themselves, to let their will be as shifting as the sands—and never lose control of their own heart. Ankhwugaht tests whether a cutter can thrive in the shadow of a god—or whether they’ll be swallowed whole.
Canonical Sources:
- Dead Gods [2e] p40-42, 50, 70-71, 85, 87 (parts of adventure are set in Ankhwugaht
- Fiendish Codex 2 [3e] p55, 59 (description of a more urban and less desert version of the realm)
- Hellbound: Dark of the War [2e] p37, 72
- On Hallowed Ground [2e] p91, 173 (description of Set)
- Planes of Law: Baator [2e] 10, 20-21, 28 (description of realm)
Source: Jon Winter-Holt
