The hot, dry air dances around you as rippling lines of heat rise from everything. The vastness of the Sarobi Desert stretches before you, stark beneath the glare of the sun. The desert stretches away from you as nothing but sand, shrub, and rock, the endless line only interrupted by the jagged line of mountains in the far distance.
Walking along the dusty road, you approach the city of Nadira. Its domed roofs gleam in the sun, beckoning weary travelers with the promise of shade from the cruel brilliance. The city has seen better days, some of the buildings showing wear, the stalls lining the streets displaying few goods for sale. The beautiful fountain in the square is dry and silent. Beyond the city, you can see the snaking path of the river. It is dangerously low in its banks, hardly more than a trickle as the water is diverted into irrigation to feed the farms along the banks. But even the farms do not seem to be doing well.
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