"It is of interest to him, as are all contagions. Come we must be off, you must rejoin your companions and have the prophesy read to you by the oracle, it is the only way inside the grounds where the preservatories are." He hobbles over to a small transport can guides you inside, it smells of rancid flesh. A short journey, taking less than a week.
From the air, the spaceport of Carrion Corpse is a desolate and unappealing location. A few scattered buildings dug into rocky hillsides, along with three landing bays hollowed into a nearby cliff face. Your shuttle lands in the central bay, Approximately fi ve miles separate the village and the temple itself and only two or so miles between the port and the temple’s shrine garden.
Temperatures range to the extreme, reaching below freezing at night to well over 110 degrees during the day. What diversity the climate has in temperature it lacks in seasons—over the planet’s entire surface, the year is dry and follows consistent, daily oscillations of heat and cold. The sky ranges from a reddish-orange to a sickly pale green between dawn and dusk and a dark blue to black after sundown. One moon, Elorum, orbits the world followed by a trail of meteoroids that occasionally shower through Kymerus’ atmosphere. The soil is dry, supports only weeds that seem to thrive on the rotting flesh of the few animal species to call Kymerus home, and ranges in colour between brown, amber, and brick red.
