SANDCASTLE! SANDCASTLE! SANDCASTLE! SANDCASTLE!

You may have heard whispers upon the sands, echoing through eternity itself, that dare raise their formless voices to attempt to put words to the mysterious legacy of Sandcastle. Do not listen to the rumors, instead, turn to this prophetic explanation instead. This beast of a structure, built on the backs of thousands of enslaved villagers, rose up in the dense jungle biome in spite of the suffocating humidity and unending rains that dared to wash away her beautiful grain-ridden walls. Walls and crenelations of sandstone, towers and buildings topped off with beautiful deep blood-red hellbrick roofs. Inside the haunting palace are blood-stained carpets and a frighteningly large netherite throne mined by the leagues of pigmen slaves the Lord of Sandcastle commands. His haunting presence carves chasms of pain through the jungle, letting the deep core of the World crawl to the surface.

All Fear His Wrath.