Hydra Of The Shifting Dunes - Algaira

[Huge Sized Model - 75mm Base]

[Presupported with LYS files in 32mm Scale]

One of the largest predators to stalk the sands of Sudd Tohst’s deserts. The local Sun Elf tribes revere the Algaira as a warden of the desert, for its enormous presence shifts dunes overnight, turning the terrain into a labyrinth to confuse and disorientate those who might do them harm. Yet, the creature does not discriminate in what it feasts on, and many over-zealous Sun Elves who worship it have met their end as its next meal. It is particularly drawn to the vibration of large groups travelling through the sea of sand, for each mouth will receive its own feed.

Algaira is spoken of in Sudd Tohst the way sailors speak of storms; not as a beast, but as a force with intent. It is one of the largest predators to stalk the shifting dunes, a hydra vast enough that its passage is mistaken for the desert itself changing its mind. When it moves beneath the sands, the ground rolls in slow, patient swells, and entire ridges collapse and reform as though pulled by unseen tides. By dawn, familiar routes are gone, landmarks are buried, and the desert becomes a fresh maze. Caravans that swear they walked a straight line find themselves circling the same half-buried obelisk until their water runs thin. Those who survive say the dunes felt guided, shepherded into place with a cruel kind of purpose.

The Sun Elf tribes that endure the harshness of Sudd Tohst revere Algaira as a warden, a living bulwark against invasion. In their stories it is not merely hungry, but dutiful; a guardian that does not need walls or watchtowers, for the desert itself is its weapon. Offerings are left at wind-scoured shrines and at the mouths of dry ravines, and warding songs are sung before journeys, half prayer and half warning. Yet, devotion buys no mercy. Algaira does not distinguish between pilgrim and poacher, warrior and child, tribe and trespasser. Many over-zealous worshippers have approached the dunes with trembling reverence only to be swallowed whole, their faith rewarded with darkness and the grind of teeth. Some tribes whisper that this is the point. A warden that can be bargained with is not a warden at all.

Algaira is drawn most keenly to the vibrations of the living world above it. A lone traveller might pass unnoticed, footfalls lost in the sigh of the wind, but a company with pack beasts and wagons rings through the sand like a bell. The hydra’s many heads rise in answer, bursting from the dunes in a spray of grit and stone, each maw eager for its own portion. It hunts with a patience that feels like malice, following the thrum of marching feet until it chooses the moment that will cause the most panic, the most stampede, the most delicious chaos. In the brief silence before it strikes, the desert always seems to hold its breath. Then the labyrinth closes, and the sea of sand becomes a throat.