Anduin is more than just a river. From its incipience in the frigid hills of the Ered Mithrin to its end in the grand Bay of Belfalas, it is a causeway, a pathway, a way of life. Traveling along its twists and turns brings out the best in some people, the worst in others. As one wends with the river, one undoubtedly comes into contact with beauty, with knowledge, with adventure. It is the main thoroughfare of the land of Arda. It is the river by which all others are judged. It is the giver of life to many cultures, many lands, many people.
And yet South of this river of life, there is a civilization that remains untouched by its beneficence. Even after the Anduin's delta filters its waters to the Great Sea, the land of Arda stretches on for leagues. Bereft of the joys of the river, this land is merely a desert—at least to the untrained eye. It has been ignored by centuries by those to the North. Only those with a thirst for riches, jewels, or slaves ever turn their eyes upon this land. Guarded, shielded, mistrusted. It is a wasteland; it is the Sutherland; it is the Harad.
There is more there than meets the eye, however. An entire empire preparing for an unknown end. A people shrouded in dark colors and even darker deeds. But those willing to make the passage of the sands—if lucky—will not be disappointed by this culture. For while those in the Northern lands toil away as they have for centuries, ignoring this mysterious place, a change in the winds has been felt in the Harad. And now, on the brink of something greater than anyone can imagine, the people of the Harad are tired of praying for rain. They are praying for power, for prestige, for recognition. And those blessed enough to witness the utter revival of this civilization will be affected forever…