Far from the largest or wealthiest of prefectures in Taldor, modern Kazuhn serves almost entirely as the breadbasket supporting Oppara. Although Kazuhn was once a fairly cosmopolitan prefecture nestled between the mighty Porthmos River and the southern tip of the World’s Edge Mountains, centuries of exploitation and economic specialization have eroded its artisan economy and urban centers. Almost all of the prefecture’s large settlements stand all but abandoned, with no industry or travel to support them, and alongside them aqueducts crumble and the smaller canals choke on vegetation. Only farmlands and orchards—almost exclusively sprawling noble estates worked by servants or tenant farmers—see any maintenance of services and infrastructure. These massive farming operations produce an overwhelming majority of Taldor’s wheat and flax, as well as apples, pears, and various stone fruits.

Even the nobles who own most of the prefecture’s fertile farmland no longer live in Kazuhn, preferring the cosmopolitan lifestyle of nearby Oppara. Some, including the prefecture’s former ruler, Grand Duchess Mellea Denzarni, maintain opulent country estates to which they escape from the rigors of city life. These properties play host to countless weeklong galas, formal hunts, secret trysts, and illicit—sometimes seditious—meetings with political coconspirators. The wealth generated by the prefecture’s farms rarely makes its way to the laborers and their families, but the Taldan pride in hard work nonetheless shines brightly in Kazuhn’s farmers, who maintain a sense of moral superiority over the “soft” urban elites their labors feed. Moral perspectives aside, most want nothing beyond simple, stable lives of healthy family, good friends, and familiar routine, and most wouldn’t trade either for the stress and crowds the city offers.

More a seasonal artists’ fair than a true settlement, Eagle’s Head takes its name from the massive amphitheater around which performers, artisans, and sizable audiences congregate in wagons, tents, and other temporary structures from the late spring through early autumn. The ancient theater is open to the elements, but sturdy magical enchantments maintain a level of comfort for performers and patrons alike, cooling the air, diverting winds, and shedding precipitation to either side of the amphitheater. Founded in 2818 ar by the contemporary grand prince’s daughter, Princess Shelyndrea, Eagle’s Head was publicly intended to be a rustic venue for arts of all sorts—a tribute to the princess’s deific namesake. Shelyndrea’s true motives were more complex, as the noise and anonymous crowds provided cover for many backroom betrayals, political coups, and tenuous alliances. For more information on Eagle’s Head in the present day, see page 48.

With half the city standing empty and another quarter burned to its foundations in the great fire of 4702 AR, Kazuhn City feels more like a ghost town than a prefecture’s capital. Most of what remains—counting houses, feed lots, granaries, and warehouses—exists to support the flow of grain, produce, and meat from Kazuhn into Oppara. A shadow economy of drug smuggling operates from the extensive empty portions of the city. Kazuhn City’s guard is unusually large and well-armed, but seems incapable of staunching the steady movement of flayleaf and unusual liquors. As Chief Warden Sir Almoril Tersian is fond of saying, “There are simply too many holes for vermin to crawl into.” Local nobles argue endlessly about demolishing the empty portions of the city for fear the decaying eyesores will collapse or spark another great fire, but always balk at the cost. For now the so-called Squatter City remains largely lawless domain of criminals, the destitute, and lurking monsters, with nothing but a wall separating it from respectable Taldan society.

About 5 centuries ago, a farmer digging a new well uncovered a massive sinkhole, in turn exposing a ruin even the most learned of historians failed to identify. The ruin first appeared to be a series of low stone structures built into the hillside and connected with underground tunnels, but this turned out to be only the top layer of a massive underground city containing natural caves, constructed vaults, and a complex network of wide passages, ventilation shafts, and sturdy stairways. Historians flocked to the site, which still remains a hotbed of research and exploration. The complex was later identified as Pegaduor, a refuge built by Azlanti refugees from mainland colonies shortly after Earthfall. Finding the land inhospitable and inhabited by beasts, the Azlanti went underground. Unlike their kin who delved deep enough to reach the Darklands, the people of Pegaduor instead built a sprawling settlement that extended only a few hundred feet below the surface, avoiding the isolation, and in some cases corruption, that turned so many of their fellow refugees into caligni, mongrelfolk, morlocks, and munavris.

Despite half a millennium of exploration, the scholars studying Pegaduor continue to uncover new tunnels leading to large chambers and subsettlements, and the true scope of the underground city remains unknown. The fate of Pegaduor’s residents, who must have once numbered in the tens of thousands given the enormity of the site, remains a similar mystery. Today, several dozen researchers and their retinues plumb the city’s mysteries, collaborating and sharing information as often as they jealously guard it from one another. Most notable among them is Fareine Oubroulay (NG female half-elf investigatorACG 5), a noted Nexian Pathfinder whose research focuses on a series of apparent secret temples to the Azlanti god of destruction, Scal. She believes further research into the cult of Scal and its relationship to the larger Pegaduoran population is the key to discovering the settlement’s fate, and she is actively recruiting aid from the Pathfinder Society and other sources. Regardless of the outcome of her specific investigation, countless miles more of undiscovered tunnels and potential secrets of the very first Taldans wait to be uncovered.

The better-maintained and more frequently traveled of Kazuhn’s two major canals, Royal Canal serves as the primary artery of life-sustaining produce from the prefecture’s heart to Oppara to the south. It stands as a testament to Taldan engineering, over 100 feet wide, 10 feet deep, and stretching 140 miles between Oppara and the World’s Edge Mountains, where snowmelt feeds the canal and powers an ingenious series of locks and pumps unparalleled in Avistan. Filled year-round with long, flat-bottomed barges carrying grain and other foodstuffs to the capital, the canal is among the safest waterways in the nation. Maintaining and patrolling such complex infrastructure is expensive. The Taldan Phalanx and Royal Navy both ensure the canal and its related industries remain safe and unobstructed. Regular checkpoints and locks along the canal’s path serve to collect tolls and provide regulators ample opportunity to search vessels for legal violations (and to secure bribe money to look the other way), which slows the otherwise simple process of traversing the canal. Despite these hefty protections, the Royal Canal remains a popular target for sabotage among the criminal organizations, dissident groups, and foreign powers who understand that the only way to really get Oppara’s attention is to delay its daily bread.

The hedonistic hunting lodge of Treaclerun is home to Kazuhn’s ruler, Grand Duchess Mellea Denzarni, and takes its name from the seemingly endless parties thrown on the site by her forebears centuries ago, during which, rumors claim, the fountains flowed with honey and the gardens sprouted delectable cakes. In truth, the estate has seen more blood spilled upon its grounds than treacle, as rulership of the prefecture that sets Oppara’s table tends to fall only to the most ruthless of political power players. More than a simple escape from Opparan hustle and bustle, Treaclerun serves as a site for scheming and executing unseemly tasks far from the eyes of the royal court and gossipy Opparan society. Nearly every noble estate in Taldor boasts at least a handful of ghost stories—restless souls of servants murdered, lovers betrayed, or rivals driven to suicide— but despite its history of intrigue, Treaclerun seems immune to such tales. Some believe that no one crossed by Kazuhn’s grand dukes would remain on even in death, but others insist the estate’s design somehow sheds malignant spirits, though such speculation never mentions how and to what end.

The lesser of the two major canals running through Kazuhn, Yellow Canal skirts the prefecture’s western border with Tandak, and it carries goods from both prefectures to the capital while bringing manufactured goods to the rural settlements. Less maintained than the Royal Canal, it takes its name from the golden wildflowers that grow along its straight, steep banks—though jokes about the water’s urine content abound. Independent merchants, small farmers, and wholesalers make up most of the canal’s traffic, as well as anyone else who can’t afford the higher tolls of the Royal Canal. The lower cost of travel on the Yellow Canal translates to far less security. Many of the barge servicers work as smugglers or pirates in addition to their aboveboard labor, so travelers shouldn’t expect anyone to be concerned about their safety. The local pirates tend to be civil, if nothing else, demanding a toll rather than seizing everything. A dead or impoverished traveler can’t return to pay them next season, after all. Those of greater means hire guards and security services to traverse the canal, though any who choose to sail the Yellow Canal likely want to avoid the attention of authorities as much as or more than that of pirates. The Yellow Canal is home to a unique species of giant, freshwater ray called the golden devil. Growing up to 8 feet across and 15 feet long, they are skittish bottom-feeders that startle easily and attack with vicious, swordlike tail barbs if disturbed.