Fifteen hexes north, one northeast of Alakran.
The people who live around the river Ul have their own dialect, and rebelled against Shasari two generations ago. Today they sullenly pay their taxes, and do not like to remember their loss. They see themselves as having common cause with the heretic monks and odd crocodile-people upstream, so welcome lone or paired travelers of unorthodox nature. But a larger armed band will remind them of past injustices, and the rumor will go out that Shasari has sent reavers to reawaken the old fight. Such a group who leaves from Katarga may well find themselves surrounded in Ulkish by several hundred hastily mustered armed peasants. Your fault, really, for tromping around the peaceful countryside all kitted out like you were looking for battle.
The groves on the hillsides bear aromatic ethrog, as well as life-giving dates from dwarf palms, while in the valley crops of barley and spelt are sown. It is a taboo in Ul to let outsiders see you working, and the people have unjustly gained a reputation as lazy for presenting a picture of agricultural idleness to travelers through.
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