From the turquoise spires of this holy city-state’s oldest temple, a radiant angel watches over Akharin Sangar. His name is Atash. For many, his presence is a source of comfort: a promise of protection and guidance. But a growing proportion of Sangarians find his rule suffocating. The angel’s word is law, his doctrine rigid, and his enforcement absolute. Akharin Sangar is a vibrant city-state with a deep appreciation for art and tradition. It rests on a plateau beneath the Heavenly Peaks, a bulwark of rugged, snow-capped mountains that have protected their lands for centuries. Though most inhabitants reside in the city or the surrounding hills, more stalwart folk brave the Burning Dunes, where kenku scavengers scour the ruins of old civilizations and rocs soar over adobe settlements like massive vultures. Akharin Sangar has all but closed its gates to the rest of the world. Outsiders often surmise the city-state is full of zealots as severe as the city’s angel ruler. In truth, Sangarians are a friendly, hospitable people, eager to share their traditions with visitors and unhappy with Atash’s embargoes and nightly curfew. A fellowship of artisans, philosophers, and merchants has formed a secret coalition known as the Silent Roar that seeks to oust Atash and revive the city by instituting rule by the people. Meanwhile, pernicious anarchists called the Ashen Heirs foment unrest, striving for change at any cost.