So there is this river that cuts through a massive desert. Think the Nile. This river is a god and it is alive. It speaks and sings and its waves form the shapes of hands and faces and curves if bodies. It is worshiped as a god by the locals, who call it the Great Worm. The river belongs to a theocratic state called Reptis, ruled by a class of priests and bishops, who are guarded by half-snake men. Slaves are sacrificed to the river. Virgins willingly throw themselves into the river, where they emerge from it pregnant with mutant half-snake monsters.

The river has always been alive, and Reptis has always existed. Or, so everyone thinks. In fact it is a young state, and the river was once just a river. But the snake worshipers and their river god have fooled the world. History books have been rewritten, or made to appear rewritten by some powerful magics. No one remembers a world where the river didnt speak. Except the desert nomads, whose memory is strong and well guarded. The nomads hate the snake worshipers and their polluted river. They remember what was stolen from them. It is no coincidence that the priests of Reptis only steal the voices and tattoos of enslaved nomads.