A violent gash of water separating the central Dragon's Spine from the Pale Peaks to the south. The strait earned its name from the thousands of rock fragments—some the size of houses, others large enough to support small fishing villages—that litter the waterway like debris from an explosion. Which, according to the Fengruk, is exactly what they are.
The Sundering
The Fengruk of Gondurak maintain records dating to the Second Eon, when titans still walked the mountains. According to their stonescribes, the Shrapnel Strait didn't exist until the titan Vorukar—a Force-attuned colossus who helped build the World Forge—fell in battle against something that came from the Pale Peaks. The killing blow triggered a catastrophic release of Force energy that shattered the mountain range, punching a wound through the Dragon's Spine that the sea rushed in to fill.
Whether this account is literally true or Fengruk mythology dressed as history, the physical evidence supports a violent origin. The coastline is impossibly jagged, as if the land was broken rather than eroded. The rock fragments throughout the strait show stress fractures consistent with explosive force. And the Force leyline that runs through this region passes directly beneath the deepest point of the strait—a coincidence that seems too precise to be accidental.
Navigation
Sailors call the Shrapnel Strait "the Splinter Sea" and approach it with justified caution. The scattered rock formations create a maze of channels, some navigable, many not, and the configuration shifts with storms and tides. Experienced pilots can thread the main passages, but taking a wrong turn can leave a ship trapped in a dead-end cove or gutted on submerged stone teeth.
Three rivers empty into the strait from the north: the Slickrun in the west, the Sunbeam River in the center, and the River of Blades in the east. Each river mouth has developed its own small harbor culture—fisherfolk and traders who know the local channels and guide vessels through for a fee.
The strait freezes in deep winter, creating a temporary land bridge to the Pale Peaks. The Fengruk of Azanfrain watch these freeze-periods carefully. Things cross when the ice is thick enough.
The Splinter Villages
Dozens of inhabited rock formations dot the strait, ranging from single-family fishing platforms to settlements of several hundred. These "splinter villages" are technically independent, owing allegiance to no state, though Sweivyon in the Silver Slopes claims loose authority over the northern clusters. The villagers are insular, superstitious, and excellent swimmers—they raise children who can navigate the underwater maze of submerged rock as easily as surface channels.
The largest splinter village, Vorukar's Tooth, sits on a pillar of stone that rises nearly two hundred feet above the waterline. Local tradition holds that this was once the titan's actual tooth, expelled during the Sundering. The stone is unusually dense and resonates faintly when struck—properties the villagers have learned to exploit, using the tooth as a fog-bell that can be heard for miles.
What Lies Below
The deepest point of the strait—called the Sundering Hole by pilots, the Wound by the Fengruk—drops over a thousand feet straight down. No one has successfully mapped it. Divers who descend past three hundred feet report hearing sounds: rhythmic pulses that might be water currents or might be something breathing. The Force leyline passes directly through this depth.
The Fengruk believe Vorukar's remains lie at the bottom. They don't mount expeditions to find out. Some things, they say, are better left buried.