Let me tell you a tale.<br/><br/>The city of Maj'Dul is the largest city on the Atamal continent, and likely for good reason. The entire continent is a wind-swept desert. Situated on the shore of a massive oasis, it is home to thousands of fortune seekers, braving the deadly sands and scorching heat in search of lost treasures in the countless ruins of an ancient civilization that once ruled the world from this formerly lush and green land.<br/><br/>It is no surprise, then, when strange things happen in this city.<br/><br/>However, this event is... stranger than most. Nearly three weeks ago, shortly after daybreak, the sun stopped moving. It hangs there, still, an angry eye, half-asleep, perpetually watching the city. At the same moment, all of the clocks, both those of magic and those of mechanics, stopped working. Everything says they should be working fine, but they're all stuck at the exact same moment; forty-three minutes after six in the morning.<br/><br/>In the first few days, it was discovered that no one was coming to the city. Normally, travelers arrive by the dozens, daily, but, since the sun stopped, not a single person has arrived. Even worse is that those who leave the city do not return. The population is growing more and more afraid with each passing hour, though the sun still hangs in the sky, mocking our fear of the passage of time.<br/><br/>While our food supply, magically augmented, and designed to last for years under a siege, will hold out for as long as we need, small riots have begun to break out across the city; looters taking what they can, and prophets proclaiming the end times. The gods have remained mysteriously silent, unwilling, or perhaps unable, to grant insight into this mystery, though they still grant their guidance in other matters.<br/><br/>And in the quiet hours, when the people calm themselves, you can hear it. Deep below the city, a slow, rhythmic thrum, like the breathing of some great beast, waiting to devour us.<br/><br/>Who will save us?