After the dust had settled from the Gods War (figuratively speaking because the real stuff hasn't yet), the people of HC2 welcomed the elves and dwarves headed south to halt the spread of the desert lands. Whole towns sprung up over the ensuing decades in order to provide provisions, lodging, and even entertainment in those optimistic, early days. But humans are relatively short lived and thus have less patience. There are only so many years a people will accept, "It will take time," "This is a slow process," and the like in place of tangible results. And every year, the winds that made it past the mountains in the south seemed a little hotter and brought new, strange odors.
When the charity of the people of HC2 dried up and the parties of clerics, mages, and their support personnel became smaller (and thus came with less coin to spend), the towns along the Mages' Road became abandoned or less hospitable to travellers. There was no outright hostility towards these parties, just on the off chance they were actually slowing the approaching room, but no one was lining up to show their gratitude. Not anymore.
As the towns withered along with hope of salvation, so too did the waystations along the Hillier parts of the Mages' Road and the mountain pass it lead to. Being more secluded, these areas were quickly adopted by various bandits, highwaymen, and other groups staying away from the general population, voluntarily or otherwise. One such group is The Family of Dust.
The Family, as they refer to themselves, consists of Mother, Father, and a variable number of brothers and sisters. While not related by blood or any agreement recognized by any organization, governmental or religious, they are bound by a common belief.
Instead of being destroyed at the end of the Gods War, the God of Nature was transformed. The Family believes that this marked the end of the world's childhood, characterized by fertile lands, nourishing rains, and bountiful resources. It was at this point that a time of trials began. As the early days of the world allowed the races to grow and multiply, this era would test and refine them into something stronger and more beautiful. Whether this is a test for entry into some promised Land, or preparation for some greater challenge none can say. For guidance on matters like these, they turn to Mother who interprets the will of the God of Blight as relayed through Father.
Father is in the process of becoming a more pure form of being. He has moved beyond the need for food and drink and instead draws sustenance from the dust and baking sun. This has enabled him to receive some small amount of the God of Blight's will. At least this is what Mother says. In reality, Father is kept in the brink of starvation and dehydration and given barely enough water to be able to murmur his ramblings which Mother reports as guidance to keep the children in line.
Woe be unto any traveler who becomes lost and "rescued" by the Family. They are as likely to be force-fed sand from their dry well as they are to end up as bones at the bottom of it.
If I were a dragon, I would sit atop a hoard of unvisited bookmarks I "saved for later" and a Netflix queue that would take more time to watch than I have left to live.