Deep below the southern fringe of the Sahel rainforest and reaching out far beneath the savanna lies a desert that never sees the light of day. There are many ways travelers have stumbled upon the dimly lit caverns, from scattered narrow passages on the surface to the great towering spire of earth in Sandawe called the Abada’s Horn. When entering the underground, the air is humid and simpler plant life such as ferns and liverworts carpet the earth. But as one ventures further in, the amount of flora drastically drops with the decreasing light level. The air is more arid here; any heat absorbed by the top layers of rock and soil no longer reach.

The passages widen and twist around themselves while the only sources of light come from the occasional spot of lampworm grubs leaving and entering their burrows. By the time you have reached the subterranean desert you are hopelessly lost unless you have an experienced guide. Taram-Cahaya is frigid despite the scarcity of water. Those caught unprepared either die of dehydration or hypothermia–whichever takes them first. Within the desert lie geothermal vents that provide warmth and moisture, however, most are guarded by territorial cave-dwelling creatures unwilling to share. 

Past the subzero wastes lies a great citadel rivaling that of kingdoms on Canelux. Built with imposing earthen walls of a special clay mixture and sprawling districts surrounding a grand central spire rising high into the cavern ceiling, travelers to the underground arrive at Jiwe’Mnara at last. The kingdom is home to the Kijovu people, a race resembling bipedal termites. With higher humidity present than in the desert large clusters of bioluminescent fungi and algae thrive here, illuminating the darkness. The presence of cave snails which feed on the phosphorescent flora are in their highest concentrations here, and the same goes for native arthropods. Most of the creatures that inhabit Taram-Cahaya are either hunters or feed off detritus, fully-adapted to live in a low-light environment.

Tall earthen walls rise several hundreds of meters to surround a sprawling open cavern system of interconnected districts. These walls are smooth with hiding holes for soldiers to keep an eye on traffic coming in and out of Jiwe’Mnara. High above the outer defenses towers a massive central pillar within the heart of the citadel, where the Kijovu ruling queen resides. Inside past the outer walls lie massive colonies of glowing fungi in strange and exotic shapes. Some resemble more like spindly protuberances than the bulbous, fleshy caps associated with fungal growth. Beneath the phosphorescent fungal colonies grow thick mattings of translucent algae that survive off the faint light emitted. Lampworms are abundant in all their forms, feeding off the fungi and creating burrows in the damp earth. Multi-legged arthropods with sight scuttle about thanks to the fungal colonies’ illumination. These strange stretches of mold-ridden lands feed the great Jiwe’Mnara as fields of grain would for Adeluna. All the life here is supported thanks to the heat and moisture that rises from geothermal vents escaping through fissures in the ground. Large colonies of fungi in a variety of colors are especially dense where they are.

Past the fungus colonies one arrives at the inner wall surrounding where the residents of Jiwe’Mnara live. This wall is richly decorated with vivid murals and ceramic mosaics, showcasing the great history of their civilization. All the buildings are made from a special clay mixture containing powdered pigments made from the fungi outside making the streets quite literally painted with color. Instead of fire as a light source the occasional patch of fungal caps illuminate the inside and outside of homes, as if the buildings have a symbiotic relationship with their light fixtures. The Kijovu are well-known as masters of pottery, their ceramic vessels and creations prized for their stunning phosphorescent patterns. No matter what time it is, the city never seems to sleep as there are always people up and about.

The Kijovu are a matrilineal society, governed by a council of female chieftains. This ruling body is composed of the wisest matrons of the entire tribe, each representing a different caste. The head of the council is the queen, mother and ruler of the tribe. The queen, the council, and the queen’s consorts all reside at the base of the citadel’s central pillar. The exterior of the central pillar resembles several tall stalagmites fused together, up to where it connects to the ceiling of the city. All the other districts surround the pillar in descending levels. There are multiple secondary tunnels used by scouting squads and hunting expeditions that lead to the surface, heavily protected at all times. These are narrower than the main tunnels leading in and out of the city and full of branching pathways to confuse invaders.