The South Turrican Ocean is broader, warmer, and deceptively calmer than its northern counterpart, yet its history is no less heavy. Along with the North Turrican Ocean, it forms the immense maritime divide separating the central core of Anarkand from the Eastern and Western continents. Where the North Turrican is feared for its violence, the South Turrican is known for its patience. It does not strike often, but when it does, it takes everything.


In the early eras, the South Turrican was viewed as the safer of the two great oceans. Its waters were navigable for longer stretches of the year, its storms less frequent, and its currents more predictable. This belief encouraged early expansion south-west and south-east, particularly from the central core and emerging coastal powers such as Qasra, Shakan, and the Radamis Empire. For a time, the ocean rewarded confidence, becoming the backbone of trade, cultural exchange, and early exploration.


That confidence collapsed during the Third Era Drift, when subtle Red Hex instabilities altered the ocean’s deep currents. Ships began arriving weeks late or not at all. Entire trade routes shifted without warning. Vessels that followed trusted charts were slowly pulled hundreds of miles off course, often without their crews realising until land failed to appear where it should have. Many were never found, and their disappearance gave rise to the belief that the South Turrican does not destroy, but redirects.


One of the most infamous tragedies was the Caroline Passage Loss, near what is now Caroline Island in the south-west of Anarkand. A heavily trafficked route linking the Radamis Empire to western allies collapsed in a single season. Over fifty ships vanished across six months, including diplomatic vessels and civilian transports. Later investigations found no wreckage, no debris, and no bodies. The route was permanently abandoned, and Caroline Island became a symbol of the ocean’s quiet menace rather than a haven of safety.


The South Turrican has also been a graveyard for ambition. During the height of Radamis expansion, massive sea-craft and floating industrial platforms were deployed to harvest energy and resources from the ocean itself. Several of these installations failed catastrophically. One platform, known as Helion Deep, collapsed after an internal pressure imbalance caused by unexplained tidal compression. Its destruction triggered a regional wave surge that wiped out three coastal settlements in a single night. The Radamis Empire officially classified the incident, but the loss reshaped maritime policy across Anarkand.


Warfare has left its scars here as well, though in a more subtle fashion than in the north. Naval skirmishes between emerging southern powers and covert engagements during the Southern Strait War spilled into the South Turrican’s shipping lanes. Mines, abandoned weapons platforms, and sunken carriers still litter the seabed. Even modern vessels occasionally detect dormant systems reactivating without clear cause, suggesting that some technologies left behind were never fully inert.


The ocean has played an unexpected role in spiritual and political history. Sujira Island, gifted to Empress Sujira by Emperor Radamik, lies close to sensitive South Turrican currents. Many believe the ocean’s relative calm in that region is no coincidence, and religious sects argue that the waters themselves acknowledge authority and balance. Pilgrimages by sea to the island are conducted under strict observance, and no military vessels are permitted within its immediate waters.


In more recent eras, the South Turrican became a route of survival. Refugees fleeing wars, Red Hex failures, and political collapse often chose the southern crossings, believing them safer. Some succeeded, aided by Temple of Anark escorts and multinational relief fleets. Others disappeared into slow-moving fog banks or mechanical failure zones where rescue signals fade unnaturally quickly. These losses are remembered collectively as the Quiet Crossings, tragedies defined by absence rather than spectacle.


Today, the South Turrican Ocean is respected rather than feared. Its waters are heavily regulated, its routes monitored by both scientific and religious authorities, and its deeper regions largely untouched. Marine ecosystems here are rich and strange, shaped by ancient currents and long isolation. Many scholars believe the ocean plays a stabilising role in Anarkand’s planetary systems, acting as a pressure valve for climatic and tectonic forces.