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Fiction
Intro
The windows of the Sorrowstone Tower were thrown wide to let in the late afternoon light. Today, a
blood-red sun filled the sky, its edges pulsing and wavering. Below, people moved sluggishly along
Stygia’s streets, weighed down by the sun’s dull light and stifling heat. Throughout the day, shouts and
the clang of weapons filled the air as tempers flared. But there was beauty in it, too. A sun was a rare
sight in Stygia, and crimson limned the hall in which The One Who Walks Behind You met with his
peers, deepening the shadows and softening harsh edges.
Walks Behind had expensive tastes. His guests lounged upon smooth-lacquered furniture and sumptuous
velvet cushions, drinking iced wine from crystal goblets. The art on display was a testament to his wealth:
a dancer sculpted in demon brass, his expression full of exquisite yearning; a delicate archway carved
from driftwood hauled up from the bottom of the Sea of Shadows; a painting by the ghost of the revered
artist Xin Skycaller, capturing the signing of the Stygian Pact.
Each of his guests had paused before that last at some point, studying the depiction of the Deathlord
signatories. The Kingeater and the Voice regarded their patrons approvingly; the Mariner examined their
master’s peers with calm detachment; and the Gallows Bride? She let a single shadow pass across her
face and then slew whatever strange feelings were growing inside her heart. The Deathlords had seen
something in each of them, lifted them up from their former lives and lead them to power and purpose.
No one in this room was a weak link, and while they were here at their lieges’ behests, they’d worked
together in the past and found the company pleasant.
The Kingeater leaned against a marble column, idly swirling the ice in her goblet and listening to its
pleasant chime against the crystal. Those who didn’t know her might think her bored, but Walks Behind
had seen her shift from nonchalant to high alert in a heartbeat. She’d often regaled them with stories of
enemies who’d thought they had the drop on her, only to find the fine point of her rapier at their throats
before they’d fully drawn their blades. Did she know what kind of a figure she cut, tall and rakish in her
flared leather coat, the setting sun giving her full lips a ruby tinge?
Then the Kingeater caught the Gallows Bride’s eyes, and gave her a wink and a smile full of promise.
Walks Behind realized she knew exactly how handsome and intriguing she looked.
***
The sound of the orchestra tuning was a sweet discord to the Kingeater’s ears. She’d been
looking forward to this opera for ages, and here she was, accompanying the Silver Prince to its
opening, seated in his private box in Onyx’s Sunsmoke Theater. The Deathlord’s opal mask
gleamed in the lights. He waited for the Dusk Caste to take her first sip of wine before talking
business.
“There’s work for you in Stygia,” he said. “My informants tell me the Mask of Winters is making
inquiries that encroach upon my interests.”
The wine tasted of summer evenings and battlefields. She savored it as she read the report he
passed to her. “Ships? You think he’s setting his sights on Cormorant?”
“Not yet,” he said, “but if he builds a fleet, it’s only a matter of time. If he wants to take to the
water, let him teach that rotting behemoth to swim.”
The rivalry between the two was old and complex; the Kingeater had long ago stopped trying to
understand it. “Should I leave now?” she asked.
“No,” said the Silver Prince. “Stay and enjoy the performance.”
***
The Bride smirked and shook her head. “Be careful what you wish for,” she said, as she captured an
obsidian Gateway piece with a figure of polished bone. “Word on the street is that I’m trouble.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” said the Kingeater.
The Bride’s opponent, a stunning man in cobalt robes that matched his eyes, heaved a sigh and tipped
over a ration on the topmost board, conceding the game. “I suppose it was too much to think her flirting
might distract you.” He said it without bitterness — the Voice That Speaks in Silence enjoyed both the
challenge and the company.
***
Banners fluttered over the Quarter Magnificent, and ocarinas, drums, and bells filled the air,
celebrating the completion of the new temple. The Voice that Speaks in Silence walked
alongside the Black Heron, whose patronage had made its construction possible. She’d tucked
her hand in the crook of his arm, and graced cultists and festival-goers with her smile. The
words she murmured to him were at odds with her pleased expression.
“The Mask of Winters seeks the Blue Mansion’s favor. And rumor says he’s buying council
votes faster than Fathom Hermit Shell can cast them. He’s putting a plan in motion, and I need
you to help stymie it.”
Voice nodded. The Mask posed little threat to the Black Heron, but she was playing an
extremely long game — one that led, eventually, to Great Forks. Thwart him now, gain more of
the First and Forsaken Lion’s goodwill, and little by little rebuild what she’d lost. The Voice was
well-versed in patience and persistence. Today, the cult he served had a new temple in the
Quarter Magnificent. Someday, his service to the Black Heron would help them spread
throughout Creation, too.
***
The Bride laughed heartily and gently patted the Voice That Speaks in Silence’s hand. “In another life, I
was a champion at this game. I saw that trick coming ten moves before you ever thought of it.”
Across from them, the Mariner of the Final Shore moved toward the window. They folded their hands
behind their back and stood, shoulders straight and head high, looking out at the city and the sea beyond.
Walks Behind could almost imagine them at the prow of their ship, daring the sea to do its worst.
“There’s a storm coming,” they said softly. “We’ll want to close the windows soon.”
***
The Mariner of the Final Shore watched the dream come upon them like the tide creeping along
the sand. The promontory on which they’d been standing faded as the Ebon Spires of Pyrron
grew closer. They strode through the dream-realm to find the Walker in Darkness awaiting them
in his hall. Through the windows, they could see the mercenary army of the Company of Martial
Sinners laying siege to a Scavenger Lands city.
“The Mask of Winters fancies himself an admiral,” said the Walker, turning his lambent orange
gaze away from the battlefield and onto the Mariner. “He’s courting shipwrights and sailors,
though I don’t know if they’re bound for Thorns, or if he thinks to join the River Styx to the
Yanaze and sail for Nexus. Either way, it must not come to pass.”
Then the dream faded, and the Mariner was alone once more, watching raitons dive for carrion
in the waters below.
***
Out over the ocean, purple-gray clouds gathered, building swiftly into thunderheads. Any number of
dangers might lurk within, from fat raindrops and bright lightning to a deluge of tears that threatened to
drown those caught beneath in despair. Storms in the Underworld were never so simple as their
counterparts in Creation.
Walks Behind signaled to his attendants, who hurried to draw the windows closed. They pulled the
curtains and lit the lamps. Then, at a nod from their employer, they withdrew, leaving the Abyssals alone.
“To business, then?” asked Walks Behind. He settled at the head of a mahogany table, one that had once
belonged to the ghost of a Guild factor from Nexus. It was an acquisition he was particularly proud of, a
reminder of what he’d overcome. Many pieces throughout the tower had once been the grave goods of
Nexus’ wealthiest citizens, collected as payment for debts when their ghosts ran afoul of Walks Behind’s
underlings. Most such pieces he sold off or redistributed to the impoverished, but there were names he
remembered from his days on that city’s streets, and he kept an ear to the ground for their arrival in
Stygia.
***
From a balcony in Sunborn’s Last Stand, the First and Forsaken Lion watched a squad of the
Legion Sanguinary as they drilled in the courtyard below. Walks Behind stood at his liege’s side,
waiting for the Deathlord to speak. At last the drill ended and the Lion turned, chains clanking, to
the Iron Hill district, where the Mask of Winter’s new Stygian garrison stabbed into the air. Walks
Behind couldn’t see their face beneath that heavy helm — had never seen it at all — but could
feel the Lion’s enmity all the same.
“You’ve heard of his plans?” the Lion asked.
“He’s hardly being subtle,” said Walks Behind. “He wants you all to know he’s up to something.”
“Good. Then he won’t be surprised when it falls apart in his hands.”
“I’ve already called the meeting.”
***
The others refreshed their drinks and joined him. The Gallows Bride was the last to sit, bringing with her
a tray of pastries sticky with weeping honey harvested from griefbee hives. She nibbled at one and sighed
as the emotions the honey imparted swept over her. “So he’s looking to build a fleet,” she said. Rarely did
the Gallows Bride speak the Mask of Winters’ name aloud, but they all knew who she meant. His recent
machinations in Stygia had caused concern among their lieges, and set this meeting in motion.
***
The Gallows Bride pulled the hood further over her face. For the moment at least, she was the
hunter rather than the hunted, but the Somber Herald — sworn to the Mask of Winters — was
no fool, and if he spotted her, she’d be the quarry once more. He sat at a table at one of
Thunder Hill’s wineshops, joined by Aikeret of the Damned Sails. You couldn’t miss the
Signatory — that crimson greatcoat stood out like a beacon. The meeting was intentionally
public; Aikeret voted with the Silver Prince on council matters, and here she was meeting with
his rival’s emissary. The Mask wanted them to be seen.
By the time the Herald glanced her way, the Gallows Bride was already on the move, headed
for the Sorrowstone Tower. She owed nothing to the Mask of Winters, not anymore, and her
allies would be eager to learn what she’d overheard.
***
“Couldn’t he just stick to Thorns?” asked the Kingeater, though she didn’t really mean it. She’d said it
for the scowl it would elicit on the Mariner’s face, and wasn’t disappointed.
“Whatever he’s after,” said the Voice That Speaks in Silence, “it will have repercussions for us all.”
“I’d like to see his shipyards,” said the Gallows Bride. “I have some old friends who owe me favors, and
can help in that regard. Though I can’t promise they won’t try to sell me out instead.” She turned her slow
grin on the Kingeater. “I don’t suppose you’d like to come with me when I meet with them, just in case?”
“Oh, I’d follow you into danger anytime,” said the Kingeater.
“We’ll need to know what inroads he’s made among the Signatories,” said Walks Behind. “The Voice
and I will make the rounds.” The Voice nodded, as Walks Behind knew he would. He was a welcome
guest at Stygian galas, lending an air of credibility that Walks Behind — with his network of thieves and
smugglers — sometimes lacked.
The Mariner consulted a small notebook, whose leather cover was water-stained and soft with use. “It’s
hard to have a fleet if monsters destroy your ships. Leave the terrors of the depths to me.”
From outside came a rumble, and the tower shook with the thunder’s boom. The storm was upon them.

Chapter One
The storm threatened apocalypse, dividing the sky with pikes of bright fire. It was the end of all upon the
sea. But at the Siren's Call, there were no worries, no yellow whispers. Ships would scuttle or float on;
they would all perish or survive to morning. What could they do? What did it matter? The air was heavy,
the atmosphere manic, the tavern overstuffed with grotesques and goons.
The Kingeater grinned at her partners, her dice-hand smooth in charcoal leather, her overturned tricorn
hat heavy with silver bits.
"You wanna cheat so much, you buy the next round." Aft the Mast bared rows of razor teeth, a
sharkfolk’s signature smile.
“I never cheat,” the Kingeater swore, Essence prickling her fingertips. She pocketed the silver and swept
the tricorn over her head — the better to hide her welling caste mark.
"I don't want another round," the ghost of Fair Armando protested. "It tastes like piss and I can't feel it no
more anyway—"
The typhoon crested, shaking the graffiti'd walls, shattering a window of rotted glass. A tavern's-worth of
monstrous freebooters paused dicing and drinking, moving as one to throw a table against the breach.
"Get us a different round," Fair Armando suggested. "The song."
"Oh, aye!" Aft the Mast bellowed. "That Old Song!"
"I couldn't," the Kingeater played at modesty, but she was already atop the table, her long black frock coat
slipping from her shoulders and the lyrics surfacing in her mind.
One by one the revelers fell silent: spirits, beastfolk, and folks yet queerer all listening on in awe. Their
stares and the storm ignited a spreading sting in her heart, like a waking limb gone to pins and needles.
Death itself wailed out of reach and yet she stood, she sang. That Old Song flowed from her, lyrics in a
haunting language she didn’t understand.
A stranger with dark eyes shining sprang to his heels.
She remembered all keen and sudden like a painting. They played That Old Song at her wedding, and she
wore the summer sky for him — him, all handsome-fine in a cloud of feathers, giving her the moon to
wear on her finger.
The stranger was singing That Old Song, his beautiful black eyes soft and fond.
Essence itched under her skin. A spectral dread seized her throat and left her sputtering, shocked. The
Kingeater, her sword-hand furious in charcoal leather, drew Lucrèce and ran him through.
The Siren's Call exploded with the gleeful rage of thirty-some scoundrels. Aft the Mast threw himself
snarling after the stranger’s crew. Fair Armando pulled his spectral knife and vanished.
Laughing amidst the abrupt chaos and violence, the stranger grabbed the fellsting’s blade and withdrew it
from his bare chest. The Kingeater wrenched Lucrèce free and struck him in the jaw, her fist a blinding
blue.
"Who are you?" she demanded, aflame with waking agony. "How do you know that song?"
He rubbed his jaw, the bold tattoos roving his arms a lively, dazzling silver. "I wanted to ask you the same
things." The stranger's voice was a hearth fire she abandoned when she left home. It was a light at the top
of a tower, and her soul wailed out of reach.
She threw her fist again. He caught it in his palm, his grip cracking her knuckles, radiant silver Essence
bleeding into her void-blue anima. Those lovely dark eyes hardened with fresh suspicion. “…But what
are you?”
She shuddered as if struck. The Kingeater twisted away from his grasp, crashed through the brawl,
through the doors, into the cataclysmal storm. She fled the stranger like a ghost before gravehounds,
anguished without knowing why, aghast at what else he might ask her.

Chapter Two
Prince Yhata — Revered Protector of the Jackdaw Throne, keeper of the eight sacred scrolls, wielder of
the pearl-handled dagger named Truth, and ruler of the Kingdom of Sable — sat in his great hall with the
Walker in Darkness as his guest. The prince’s retainers were gone, his guards dismissed. He sat alone
with the Deathlord, on a plain wooden chair where the petitioners normally gathered. The Jackdaw
Throne, its feathers carved into the black marble so perfectly they seemed freshly molted, loomed empty
on the dais.
Yhata was a man in his middle age, the victor of a hundred battles. He’d led his people through times of
riches and famine, and defended Sable with honor when the kingdom’s riches drew neighboring powers’
greedy eyes. But beneath his princely demeanor ran a grief as deep as the Sea of Shadows.
The Walker didn’t need his informants’ reports to know it was there. Yhata wore it in the tightness around
his eyes and the set of his shoulders, as heavy as any crown — the childhood loss of his older sister
Ralaya in a raid, Sable’s true prince. What heights might the kingdom have reached with her guidance?
Under her rule, they might have rivaled Rake, or swept across the Hundred Kingdoms and built an empire
great enough to give Vaneha pause.
But Yhata was cautious where she’d been bold, and had spent his life in the shadow of what might have
been. Perhaps, if she’d been alive when the Company of Martial Sinners made camp outside of Sable’s
walls, she’d have mustered a resistance, no matter how doomed. She might have sent the Walker’s
messenger, with his message stating I can give you what you need, back to the Ebon Spires missing his
head. Prince Ralaya might have let her people die rather than cede Sable to the Deathlord and his
mercenaries, but Yhata was not Ralaya. He’d received the messenger as an honored guest, and invited the
Walker in Darkness to dine with him.
“Even now,” said the Walker, “Vaneha prepares for conquest. Their generals will set their sights on your
kingdom, and your people will die. If they don’t crush you, Thorns will finish what they started.”
“And you’re not here to do the same?”
“What need do I have of that, if we’re allies? You’re weary of war. Of the loneliness that comes with a
throne. I’m asking very little of you, and in return, I can give you that which you want the most.”
The dagger Truth — forged by the goddess Ninegala herself a thousand years before — lay unsheathed
on the table between them, resting atop a large bejeweled case. It was said that its blade would cut false
words from the air if they passed over it. It remained inert.
“I want nothing more than for my people to be safe,” said Yhata. Now the blade chimed softly, and a fine
ash fell to the table. The prince gasped, and tried again. “What I want, no one can give me.”
“Even now, she makes her way here,” said the Walker. “Your sister, returned from the land of the dead to
rule beside you.” He ran a pale blue finger over the case. “Surely that’s worth sharing the wisdom in your
sacred scrolls?”
For a moment, the prince seemed like he might balk. What was written on them was for Sable’s rulers
alone. His predecessors had guarded their secrets proudly. Ralaya had made him swear to do the same,
preventing anyone from attaining the dangerous knowledge within. But then Yhata unclasped the case
with shaking fingers and, one by one, unfurled the scrolls.
The Walker smiled as he read them; he hadn’t expected negotiations to go this easily. Ralaya was no
longer the woman Yhata had known; she was a warrior-ghost, a black-masked Sainted Sinner, loyal to the
Walker through and through. But the eager prince had made his bargain, and the time for questions and
clarifications was past.

Chapter Three
Waves lapped gently at the sands as the Mariner of the Final Shore pulled their skiff ashore. They’d
sensed this place from afar, and directed the crew of their ship, the Stonefish, to sail toward it, but the
Mariner had known as soon as they saw the mists shrouding the island that they needed to explore it
alone.
It was a tug they felt sometimes, like a strong current pulling them toward a forgotten sea. Thus far, it
hadn’t pulled them under.
Above, the sky was full of cold blue stars. The Mariner had known Creation’s fixed constellations since
they were a child, and had wondered at the inconsistent firmament of the Underworld when they sailed
through misty shadowlands. Later, they’d learned other methods of navigation from ghost sailors when
they took work on ships, but the Mariner sometimes still looked for those stars they’d named the Shining
Lady, the Cat’s Eye, or the Beacon.
The Mariner trudged through fine black sand toward the tree line, following the tracks of some great beast
that had dragged its belly and tail along the beach to bask a while before returning to the sea. As they
passed through clusters of spindly trees, they startled a flock of azure-winged birds that were feasting on
the carcass of a deer. The birds took to the skies croaking the names of the Mariner’s dead loved ones.
As they walked, the Mariner kept expecting to encounter the island’s ghosts. Who dwelled here, among
the streams filled with sweet water and the forest flush with game? The animals here were both those
native to Creation and creatures of the Underworld. Wild boar rooted through the underbrush, while a
pack of barghests roamed close by. Rations snatched mice in their razor-sharp beaks. The Abyssal
wondered if this was a place like their home, drifting from one world to another. Perhaps its living
inhabitants had grown weary of the uncertainty and set sail for firmer shores.
The Underworld had certainly asserted itself here. Black vines snaked along the ground and twined
around the trees, choking them like garrotes. Bright purple flowers dripped from them, releasing the
heady scent of blood and rot. Some had eyes that watched the Mariner as they passed. Others had needle-
sharp teeth, and strained towards them, eager for a taste of flesh. When the wind sighed through the
forest, its voice was near-human, and it carried the sounds of a funeral dirge the Mariner half
remembered.
They followed the stream to a place where the forest ended and a sheer rocky cliff gave them a view of a
ruin below. It stretched out for miles, the remains of a sprawling city. Its walls had long since fallen, the
rubble marking the city’s boundaries now overgrown with those brilliant purple blooms. Carrion birds
nested in the towers that still stood, and along the wide boulevard where once there must have been grand
festivals, a pack of phantom horses roamed.
It was then the Mariner realized that they’d been wrong about the presence of ghosts. The island was the
ghost. Now that they knew it, they felt it surrounding them, felt its ancient death, and the weight of its
former vitality. That sense of being pulled on a current came back. In another life, they’d been present for
its demise. Had they done this? Had they been the one to wrench it from the world, or had they been its
protector and failed in their duty as a Lawgiver? The star they thought of as the Beacon — a star they
hadn’t seen since childhood — shone bright over a building with its marble dome still mostly intact.
Perhaps they’d find answers within.
Heart aching with another lifetime’s loss, the Mariner sought a way down.

Chapter Four
They had taken the boy’s fingernails first. They didn’t stop when he told them he could get the money
back with interest. By the fourth, he had told them about his secret cache of silver, set aside for finally
escaping Nexus one day. By the fifth, he realized they didn’t care what he told them, and that he was
going to die.
He awoke in the ruined temple, hazy with burning pain and the memories of cruel laughter. As he opened
bleary eyes, he saw his own corpse, streaked with blood, pocked with bruises and wounds. His killers
were there, frozen in time, etched with smiles of chilling satisfaction.
He was not alone in this frozen time. A vast figure clad in black armor draped with tarnished chains,
stood in the temple’s entry, too large to have crossed its threshold. The figure’s masked face watched him
with rapt attention.
“Well then, is it the old god of the temple, come at last to deliver me? Or are you come to ferry my soul
away? Well, have at it, I’m not afraid of you!”
A lie. Even outside his flesh, the presence of the spirit caused the boy to shiver. Long familiarity with
danger told him that he was in the presence of one of the world’s true terrors.
The figure spoke, voice reverberating in the darkness: “No god I, and no shepherd to your soul. I am here
to recruit.”
“Recruit for what?”
“In a place beyond the world you know, a great war of my making is brewing. I seek lieutenants of
uncommon talent to further my design.”
The boy barked a bitter laugh.
“I think you’ve made a mistake, lord. I’m nobody. See here, where my talents landed me.”
The boy felt the apparition’s attention shift momentarily to his dying body, then to the cruel tools and
ghoulish faces of his killers.
“I do not make mistakes. You came from nothing but have taken much. Your name commands fear in the
dark corners of this city. You are clever. Observant. An assiduous judge of character, and not afraid to get
your hands dirty. In you, I see the potential for great things. This life has given you no opportunity to
realize it, but I give you that opportunity now. I give you honor as a prince among the dead. I give you the
respect of your few peers and the obedience of your lessers. I give you the loyalty of a general, if you give
me the loyalty of a soldier.”
“Oh? And what, you’re going to write my name in the clouds while you’re at it?”
“No. Your name is to be forgotten with your mortal frailty and your former life, never to be remembered.
That is the cost of greatness, vengeance, and survival.”
The figure reached down and extended a clawed hand. The boy flinched back before he recognized the
gesture as a handshake.
The boy could sense the truth in the figure’s words, and the offer of true power before him. He looked
down once more at his own body. He saw a dead boy and a wasted life — never living up to his ambition,
thwarted by the world.
“Good.” he said, taking the freezing, metal-clad hand in his own. “I want to forget it.”
The terrifying figure inclined his spike-crowned head fractionally.
“Then stand in glory, my Chosen. My deathknight. Kill this chaff, then depart south, and seek me by my
omens. When we meet, our work can begin in truth.”
The boy breathed in his Second Breath. He opened his eyes; a heartbeat later, his erstwhile captors began
screaming. Their blood was a baptismal crust upon his hands when he finally knelt before his Deathlord at
the Thousand, pledging himself as The One Who Walks Behind You.

Chapter Five
The Voice That Speaks in Silence sat motionless upon his mount, a vast skeleton-serpent which framed
him like a gruesome, writhing throne. From that vantage, he beheld them: the tomb-bodies of his dead
gods, the Neverborn. Blood wept from his caste mark, tracing down his dark skin to the channels
engraved in his silver half-mask. He forced himself to recall the patterns he had inscribed, the sacred
geometry of their asymmetrical paths dividing and rejoining. They carried the blood over his unblinking
left eye, which blazed darkly with his Essence, and to the right corner of his mouth, where laughter-prone
lips were set in grim determination. He could almost hear it, after all this time…
Time. Its movement was fluid, turbulent, within the Labyrinth. In these tombs, it was a tortured skein, an
unsolvable knot, each moment frozen in constant motion. Was this how the Neverborn felt, in the
nightmare of their eternal unbeing? Or was he merely a stone that looked upon a mountain and thought
itself the same?
Same. His pilgrimage through the Labyrinth was the same as walking Creation’s dragon lines in his
youth, a simple ritual of endurance. Through rivers of teeth, fields of broken toys, knife-trees and
Essence-snares, he walked, arriving here, where he began, where he had given up his name. What had
they done with his name, these sleepers? A quirk of his usual humor touched his lips, the laugh-lines
drinking of his flowing blood. Never-born, never-named, what use have you for our names?
Names. Mere sounds, symbols without significance — like the Whispers that intruded on his thoughts,
tantalizing, daring him to interpret them. But that, he mused, was the trap. The mind built itself patterns
from words, stars, entrails, dreams...But if he gave in to that impulse now, if he had the hubris to think
that he, out of every soul that had ever died, could divine the true words of the corpse-gods...he'd end up
like a nephwrack, preaching dross to a congregation of eager fools.
Fools. Only they listened overlong to the echoes of the Whispers. The Whispers break the mind, but the
silence breaks the soul. In the great, yawning spaces between the echoes lurked a paradigm shift,
“Perhaps...there is meaning!” becomes “Perhaps...there is no meaning!” As one of Death's Lawgivers, to
dance upon on the knife's-edge of such distinctions was his chivalry.
Chivalry. It defined him: the very rhythm to which he danced. His fingers drummed idly on the broad
skull of his throne-serpent, some nameless song so old he had forgotten where he learned it. Beneath the
silence of the Labyrinth is the sound of the Whispers. Beneath the sound of the Whispers is the silence of
despair. Beneath that...
His staring eyes blinked at last, focused on the fingers that tapped away of their own accord. He surged
upright, his serpents lashing their tails in irritation, the crystals woven in his long hair chiming. For the
second time, he favored the dead gods with a wide, triumphant grin.
Beneath that silence...there is another sound.

Chapter Six
The Bleeding Lily Crowned in Shackles sat in an uncomfortable high-backed chair amid a ring of
similarly inauspicious personages. Another hour stretched into infinity. She stared upwards into the
gruesome vaulted ceiling and entertained her wandering mind by counting the bony joins where each
buttress met the roof like the ribs of a great beast. As a Moonshadow, she oversaw the summit and bound
any agreements the long-dead council might request.
Other deathknights shifted in their chairs, which were never meant to support the weight of physical
bodies. Some were enforcers shipped to this summit alongside their snake-tongued courtiers as a show of
strength.
A Dusk Caste that the Bleeding Lily recalled as the Kingeater lounged near her with one long leg
carelessly slung across its carved arm. Every so often, her eyes flitted toward the Lily with just a hint of
salacious intent. The Bleeding Lily did not return the looks — one lover under fraught circumstances was
enough.
With that reminder, her daydream shifted to Meadow's warm touch and the full softness of her lips
against her mouth and neck. The second this dusty specter called a recess, she planned to slip out of the
shadowland and find her way to her shepherdess's field.
The next time she met the Lily’s eyes, though, the Dusk flashed a roguish wink. The Lily felt her cheeks
flush and glared back. This provoked a burst of inappropriate laughter from the Kingeater, and then the
awkward silence a council interrupted.
"Is something the matter?" the ghostly chairman asked.
"Nothing, your grace," the Kingeater said in an appealing, rough voice, "but I think the members of this
assembly with flesh and blood may be growing tired. Perhaps we can resume at midnight."
The ghost considered her words and then nodded, albeit grudgingly. "We shall be adjourned, then."
The Lily wasted no time bolting from the chamber. She kept her head down to avoid unwanted
conversations and focused on the motion of one boot in front of the other. She failed to notice the
Kingeater crossing her path until they collided.
The Dusk seized a fistful of her blouse and pulled her uncomfortably close. She smiled mercilessly at the
Lily with pointed teeth grazing her painted bottom lip. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
The Lily pushed against the solidness of the Kingeater's chest and her silver and black jacquard vest to
force space between them. "None of your business. I need to stretch my legs."
The Kingeater’s wicked smirk widened into a wolfish grin. "Which is it? An unbelievable excuse or none
of my business?"
"Both. Go away." The Lily slapped away her hand again.
"We could stretch together," the Kingeater said with a lascivious wink. "C'mon. Let's have a bit of fun."
The Lily decided whether to be disgusted or aroused and settled on a mix of both. "No. Don't you have
something better to do?"
The Kingeater eyed her with brutal scrutiny. "You have someone else, then, who you're rushing off to
meet." She paced a dangerous circle around the Bleeding Lily. "Let me guess... Some mortal you're
keeping your identity from? How dreadfully romantic."
The Lily flushed. "No, nothing like—"
The cold kiss of metal pressed against her throat as the Kingeater blocked her passage with knife in hand.
"You're a lovestruck fool, the Bleeding Lily Crowned in Shackles. That kind of romance isn’t for us.”
“I disagree,” the Lily said. Dark Essence circulated through her body and she moved, faster than thought,
past the Kingeater. Without looking back, she sprinted toward the sliver of daylight winking through the
exit.
“A hunt, is it?” The Kingeater’s cruel laughter echoed down the hallway. “I’ll catch you both, then.”
The Lily heard the rush of power and heavy footfalls catching up behind her. She knew she was no match
for a Dusk Caste in single combat, but she would never lead this wolf to her Meadow.
***
The shepherdess watched the sun dip toward the horizon and waited until the moon rose high. Knowing
her lover would not appear tonight, Meadow stood and returned home.

Chapter Seven
Queen Askaté greeted the Mariner with dangerous familiarity. The queen had known them for years, and
though she had been warned before, she made to speak the Mariner’s lost name. With more forcefulness
than was a guest’s right, the Mariner gestured for silence, the mark of their Exaltation flaring on their
brow in warning. Askaté soured, but complied, withdrawing back to her broken throne of driftwood and
sea-glass.
She could have motioned for Mariner to take a plush seat arrayed beside her throne, but kept them
standing as recompense for her injured pride. She was old, and powerful, and well-learned in the ways of
the Underworld. But she didn’t truly comprehend what the Mariner was, or what the Abyssals would
mean for the future of the dead. There was a day when she would look back upon this snub and rue it. The
Mariner didn’t relish that. They pitied it.
“You return to us with a Deathlord’s favor,” she said, adjusting the dozen silver rings that weighted down
her willowy fingers.
“The Walker in Darkness sends his greetings to you, Queen Askaté, and offers his recognition for your
friendship — three grand gowns of vesper-silk from his finest tailors, a coronet of bronze and obsidian,
and wine enough to fill my hold, which your servants are already transporting to your banquet halls, my
lady.”
“Your lady,” she said, wounded afresh. “Your queen. You were my student before you were his servant.”
Proud as ever, the Mariner thought. It was the way of the dead, who were born of ritual — they had
trouble accepting change. They would see to that, in time, but the Mariner felt great affection for Askaté,
haughty as she was. She had been their patron and tutor in necromancy for a decade before their
Exaltation.
“Your instruction has been my guiding star,” the Mariner said. “But there are other matters I would
discuss, your majesty.”
“Yes, your missives said as much,” the queen replied. “And they are accurate, are they, in your choice of
quarry? The Ravenous Maw of Uxet is a grotesquerie; a profanity upon the seas of the dead. So many
ships have been crushed within its toothy maw, fishing boats and war-galleons alike. For the love I bear
you still, I do not wish to see you throw your life away so fruitlessly.”
“For the work I have in mind, no lesser creature’s fangs would do, your majesty, and my life…it has
already been spent. You know that, even if you don’t wish to recognize what stands before you.”
“Choose some other quest,” she said, and the Mariner watched her hands twist into blasphemous gestures
and mudras. A trickle of incense wreathed the Abyssal’s head and attempted to ensnare their senses. It
was an unworthy trick, prideful and ignorant. When they had studied necromancy under her tutelage, this
had been the way of things: When she couldn’t convince them of her wisdom, she attempted to change
their mind by gross force.
Things were not as they were, though, and the Mariner swept the spell away with a casual gesture. The
mark of Daybreak burned once more upon their brow, and their anima swelled like a hurricane. The
Mariner stood at the center of phantasmagorical winds, and the world smelled not of incense but blood
and salt. They approached Queen Askaté and she flinched, feeling the necromantic power gathering
around her former pupil.
“I heard once that an excellent teacher hopes to be surpassed by their students,” the Mariner said. “Allow
me to show you what I have learned.”

Chapter Eight
Evening rain made slick the eaves of the gabled roof. The Gallows Bride crouched under her cloak of
waxed black canvas, considering the device in her arms.
It works, or it doesn't, she reasoned. If this shot failed, she would have another. Ledaal Chuyin could run
— and like all cowards, run well — but he would never hide from her for long.
She lifted the matte-black barrel, two meters long and riveted with orichalcum and blue jade. Salt-white
tubing fed from a barbed soulsteel armband dangling at her hip, alongside the weapon's stolen cartridges.
Had the Mask noticed the artifact's absence? The Day Caste knew it was one-of-a-kind, though not
necessarily priceless.
Just like you, Chuyin.
The weapon crackled with ambient hatred. The Bride sharpened her senses, because across the misty
courtyard, a fourth floor window shone from the Hall of Bittersweet Chrysanthemums. That meant Ledaal
Chuyin was taking his opium in the library. Slowly, inexorably, the Gallows Bride reached for the first
cartridge.
Crisp feathers rustled by her side. She froze, only her solemn brown eyes moving. A rain-glossed raven
hopped toward her, head tilted in curiosity. The Bride considered it in silence.
No raven, she realized, skin prickling.
Half a heartbeat later, the bird was a scattering of violet stardust. The Bride scrambled behind a chimney
stack, struggling to shield her sensitive eyes, the weapon rattling and keening.
She was found out. How? By whom?
The chimney stack cracked, collapsed. The Bride twisted aside, a star-wreathed blade plunging past her
shoulder. Rain and crumbling stone framed a fate-whetted face: nose like an axe, hair like spun gold, eyes
like amethysts.
Her body wouldn't allow her to linger. The Bride sprung from her hands, twisting through the air like a
hanged corpse in a gust of wind. There was nothing but mist and night. I land, or I don't, she reasoned.
Shingles cracked under her heels like the sound of a snapping neck. A memory resurfaced: Mnemon
Getha, violet eyes unblinking while they fitted her and Blameless Crane with nooses. But this was no
Dragon-Blooded youth hunting her. The Bride's brain burned with the effort of remembering.
"Never thought I'd find you here," she murmured into the dead wind, trusting it to carry her words. Her
fingers worked at the barbed soulsteel. The bands were stinging cold, but that was nothing compared to
the pain goring her arm when she locked them into place. The tubes turned garnet-dark. All at once she
was dizzy, her heart fluttering. She might only get one shot after all.
"You’re accomplice to the murder of an Archon," the Bride continued coolly, sliding a heavy cartridge
into the chamber.
"Everything has an ending," the mist whispered to her.
"But not Ledaal Chuyin?" Black lightning crackled between the rivets. Hatred lanced through her veins.
A violet star shone across the dark. Her hand flew across the hammer, her finger strangled the trigger.
THE FORMATTING IN THE FOLLOWING TWO PARAGRAPHS IS INTENTIONAL
It caught them in the shoulder, not a gout of flame like the Bride expected but a sph_re of utt_r dark.
They bled in bla_k rays, s_ream_d with no so_nd. The Whispers were de_f_ning.
The Gallows Bride crouched under her waxed black cloak, silent while the th_ng that had b_en Mnemon
Getha became nothing.
When the whispers faded to a drone and the last of the assassin’s Essence had inverted, the Bride finally
allowed herself a shiver. With the wretched strength of a terrified and wounded animal, she ripped the
bands from her arm, relieved at the sight of her red blood.
She was injured, spent, horror-struck, and the window on the fourth floor was dark.
But he would never hide from her for long.

Chapter Nine
The queen wasn’t alone in her chamber when the Viscount Wreathed in Ruby Mists came calling. Her
guards were gone, as they’d been paid to do. The entire wing of the palace was still, except for the
Viscount’s swift passage. He’d arranged for that, too. The lock on her door fell open at his touch, its pins
crumbling to rust.
She should have been alone, asleep in her bed amidst dozens of silken pillows and beneath a pile of furs.
Indeed, she slept, oblivious to the cold northern wind gusting through her open window and lending the
chill of the grave to the chamber. The Viscount might have found that amusing, since that was why he
was here in the first place, except for the person who waited with her.
Leaning against the bedpost, between the queen and her would-be killer, stood a Weeping Raiton Cast
Aside. She wore plain woolen robes and no armor that the Viscount could see, but her grimcleaver,
ominously named The Taste of Blood, rested against the footboard in easy reach. He knew of her —
sworn to no Deathlord, a scholar of the Old Laws. He’d not yet had the pleasure of meeting her, though
her stance and the circumstances told him this was no social call.
Business first. He rushed toward the sleeping queen, daiklave slicing the air...But a Weeping Raiton was
faster than he'd imagined, that grimcleaver coming up between them in a blur. Soulsteel screamed where
his blade met its haft, the battle-song of two cursed weapons meeting in equal mettle.
“Hold,” she said, as the encircled disk of her Caste mark seeped bloody on her forehead. “Attend my
words, deathknight, and know that your mission is flawed.”
He could have pushed past her; he was quick and a Raiton’s reputation was that of an arbiter and
philosopher, not a fighter. He could have killed the queen and then argued about it. But the very fact of
the Moonshadow’s presence gave him pause. If someone wanted the queen saved, or the Viscount
bloodied, they would have sent a warrior. Intrigued, the Viscount disengaged from her. She didn’t lower
the grimcleaver until he’d retreated several steps.
“How is it flawed?” he asked. “I’m here bringing justice at the Lover’s behest.”
“You carry out your mistress’ will,” she agreed, “but not that of the Neverborn.”
“The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears serves the Neverborn.”
“She serves herself. Think of it — a year from now, two at most, the people of this city will revolt. The
queen and her court take and take while they starve. They won’t be so kind as to cut her throat while she’s
warm and safe in her bed, dreaming pleasant dreams. Who are you to give her an easy death and free her
from the torment to come?”
The Viscount stared, and let his instincts measure her words against his sense of death’s chivalry. “I’ve
taken vows—”
“—to the Neverborn first and foremost.” The Moonshadow gestured toward the queen, who slept on as
soundly as the dead, perhaps lulled by a Weeping Raiton’s will. “Your liege would install a puppet in her
place to further her own cause. Let the queen live to see her downfall. Or better yet, help her shape it.”
She stepped away, leaving him a clear path to the queen, but the Viscount found himself unable —
perhaps even unwilling — to take it.

Outro
The shipyard lay hidden in a mist-shrouded harbor on the Isle of Bitter Tears. The Mask of Winters had
quietly built it and ferried the workers there, where they labored to produce ships made from the bones of
a dead behemoth dragged from the depths. Spindly looking scaffolds and drydocks littered the shore. A
beacon tower grown from pale coral loomed up over it all, though no light shone at its peak to guide
crews to safety.
The Gallows Bride stood at the prow of the skiff as the Mariner steered out of the billowing mists. They
were protected for a time, the spray clinging to them even as they sailed out of it, drawn along by a
gesture the Mariner made. The Kingeater hauled on the oars, propelling them through the waves toward a
small cove. The Voice That Speaks in the Silence and the One Who Walks Behind You were already
ashore, rowed there by the Mariner’s crew. Now the Stonefish and its crew would wait on the other side
of the mists, watchful for the Circle’s return.
The Mask’s fleet was a formidable sight, even if dozens of ships were still just frames. Impressive as they
all were, they were overshadowed by what was obviously meant to be the Mask’s new flagship. The
Gallows Bride knew little about boats, aside from how to fight aboard them, but even to her untrained eye
the ship seemed menacing, violent, and swift. If she’d spotted it giving chase through a spyglass, she’d
worry for whatever vessel she was on. It was made of gleaming wood and polished bone, and she was
certain from its shape that the ribbing beneath the hull was that of some great pelagial beast.
A figure paced the deck, tall and broad, with the hilt of a grand daiklave peeking up over their shoulder.
The Bride knew that confident stride, and the slash of crimson that lined his cloak. The Knight of Broken
Shadows. She’d patrolled at his side many times, before she’d renounced the Mask’s service. He was one
of her most zealous hunters.
The skiff pulled even with a rocky jetty, and the Gallows Bride readied her bow. “This is far enough for
me,” she said. “I’ll draw him off. You two get to the ship.”
The Kingeater held the boat steady as the Bride clambered up onto the rocks. “Are you sure? I can come
with you. The Mariner could take the ship alone.”
“There’s something else belowdecks,” said the Mariner. “I can feel it.”
“Ah,” said the Kingeater. “Seems like I have a job to do anyway.”
The Bride smiled. “It’s all right. We have old business best left between the two of us.”
“Luck to you, then,” said the Kingeater. “When this is all over, I’ll take you sailing.”
The Bride muffled a laugh so it didn’t carry out over the water, then she gently pushed the skiff away
from the jetty, and straightened to face her old friend.
The arrow flew straight and true, burying itself in his shoulder and spinning him with the force of its hit.
His hand came up to tug it free or break it off, but already it was corkscrewing deeper and deeper into his
flesh, spurred on by cruelty and Essence. She pushed back her hood and let the wind whip her violet hair
around. The Knight recognized it and wasted no time. He vaulted from the deckrail and onto the water,
rushing across the surface of the waves toward where the Bride waited on the jetty.
***
Walks Behind’s informants had mentioned the shipwrights and architects being funneled from the Mask’s
stronghold of Black Diamond to the isle, but seeing the sheer number of them in person was still
impressive. The docks buzzed with activity as workers transported materials, shaped wood, and sewed
sails. Messengers hurried between drydocks, and cooks parceled out bowls of fish stew for the living.
Many of the workers were undead, but even those gathered for the scent of warm stew and fresh bread.
Walks Behind and the Voice moved through them with the air of inspectors examining the shipyard’s
progress. Few challenged them as they made their way through, and those who did quickly ducked their
heads and averted their eyes at Walks Behind’s imperious frown. He’d cowed some of Stygia’s most
dangerous criminals with that look; it worked just as well on the Mask’s laborers.
The guards at the beacon tower, however, weren’t quite so easily moved. These were dedicated soldiers,
ghosts from the Lookshyan legion used to enemies attempting to infiltrate their ranks. The Mask had
hardly been secretive about his maneuvering; he certainly would have expected his rivals to respond, and
the guards had their warnings.
Still, that was something Walks Behind could use. He strode straight up to the tower’s gate, nodding in
satisfaction as the half-dozen ghost-guards closed ranks. “Good,” he said, adopting a general’s booming
tone. “You’re assembled and ready. We’ve been betrayed.”
A murmur rippled through them, and their commander stepped forward. “By whom?”
“Our liege is dealing with that. Our duty is to root out the saboteurs before they can do any harm.” He
swept an arm toward the shore, to the cove where his allies had beached their skiff. It was empty now, the
Kingeater and the Mariner already gone, their bootprints leading toward the shipyard. “Go,” he said.
“Stop them. The dock’s guards are already on watch, but we might be able to catch them before they
make it there.”
The commander barked a sharp order, and her troops fell in line. Walks Behind had only a moment to
relish the triumph as they marched toward the cove.
A shadow filled the gate, and the whisper-screams of soulsteel accompanied the darkness that bloomed
around the nephwrack barring their way.
The Voice stepped even with Walks Behind, pushing up the sleeves of his robes to reveal arms tattooed
with sigils and snakes. “I’d thought the others were going to do all the heavy lifting,” he said. He raised
his hands, and all around the courtyard, the ground trembled. This isle had once been a burial place, and
now the dead beneath it clawed at the earth, eager to serve.
***
The Kingeater launched herself onto the flagship’s deck with one mighty leap, bounding over cowering
dockworkers. The Mariner wasn’t far behind, hauling themself up the scaffolding in a matter of seconds.
They’d been right about the Knight of Broken Shadows not being alone. Waiting for them on the deck
was a man seven feet in height, wearing a helm fashioned from a siaka’s skull, its many-toothed maw
framing his face. He was one of the leaders in the Mask’s Perfect Circle, named the Duke with Seven
Jaws. The Kingeater had heard tales of him — an admiral, a shapeshifter, and a terrifying foe.
She unsheathed her rapier and spread her arms wide. “Come on, then. Let’s begin.”
The Duke laughed, a sound hollow as the grave. He hefted a massive mace and raced for the Kingeater,
his steps thundering across the deck. The Kingeater was a blur of motion herself, phantoms splitting off
from her shadow to dart in and stab at him even as she dove beneath his swing.
Behind her, the Mariner intoned words that made the Kingeater’s gut twist. As she rose up behind the
Duke, the admiral’s movements slowed. His limbs grew stiff and pale as veins of ivory shot through his
skin and solidified. He moved despite it, groaning as his corpus cracked and bled, but the Mariner’s spell
gave the Kingeater an opening. Chains shaped from her Essence spooled out from her and wrapped
around him, immobilizing him further. “The Mask should have sent more of you,” the Kingeater said.
Then the Duke’s form twisted and writhed as he changed shape beneath her grasp. The Kingeater sprung
backwards, chains still taut, eager to see what else he had in store.
***
Sea spray surrounded the Bride and the Knight as they faced one another along the jetty. He stood,
daiklave drawn, regarding her with regret. “You could come back,” he said. “Even now, the Mask might
forgive you.”
The offer was empty, and they both knew it. She’d sold their liege’s secrets again and again, not to buy
her own power, but to chip away at his. The Mask rewarded ambition — if she’d done it for her own
personal gain, he might have given her a chance to earn back his good graces. But her actions were an
affront to him, and while she had benefited, the profits were of the hide-saving kind. She’d bought safety
and protection, boltholes and allies, but little more.
“I can never go back,” she said. “I made sure of it. But you could come with me, if you wanted.”
The Knight shook his head. “Far better for me to haul you in myself. I imagine the reward will be quite
handsome.”
“I tried,” she said. “Remember that when I send you back to him bloodied.” The Bride reached into her
shadow, and from it drew a broadsword shaped and honed with her hate. Then she dove toward him with
a roar that matched the ocean’s fury, stepping into shadows thrown by the crashing waves and
reappearing behind him with a mighty swing.
***
Walks Behind reached the tower’s summit alone. From below came the sound of the Voice’s sermon as
he clashed with the nephwrack, punctuated by the sound of his fists in their righteous rage. The
Moonshadow looked out over the isle, where he saw the chaos his Circle had sown. The docks were in
disarray, their planks twisted into strange labyrinthine configurations at the Mariner’s bidding. Down on
the jetty, the Gallows Bride stood alone, resting on her blade a moment as she watched a body sink
beneath the waves. On the flagship, the Kingeater soared into the air and dove gracefully toward her
hulking opponent, making their fight look like a dance. The Mariner was busy with the flagship’s sails,
unfurling them before turning to haul up the anchor.
He peered out into the mists, scanning for shapes in the dense cloud, but whatever lay beyond remained
stubbornly hidden.
Only one thing left to do.
Walks Behind pulled several vials from his robes, handling them carefully as he mixed their contents atop
the silver disk in the center of the space. Bright blue fire shot forth from them, a beacon made of
pyreflame to cut through the mists. “It’s time!” he called down to the Voice, hoping his own shout would
cut through the priest’s battle-frenzy.
From below came the sound of something wet and heavy tumbling down the spiral stairs. A moment later,
his companion peered up at him, exhilarated. “We should run,” he said. “He won’t be down for long.”
***
The Mask’s flagship groaned and creaked as it broke free of its moorings. Its sails filled with the
whipping winds, and it picked up speed as it headed toward the mists. Alarms sounded from the harbor
behind them. It wouldn’t be long before the Duke with Seven Jaws would recover and give chase.
“It’s a long way to Stygia,” said the Bride.
“We’ll have the Stonefish with us,” said the Mariner. “My crew is good; they’ll buy us extra time.”
“We’re close enough to Black Diamond that they’ll catch us before long,” said the Kingeater. “Two
against the Mask’s fleet. I hope you all can swim.”
“About that,” said Walks Behind as they passed through the mists. Behind them, the pyreflame beacon
burned, hazy but a clear landmark. They emerged from the mists to find not only the Stonefish, but a score
of other ships besides, bearing the flag of the Damned Sails. Aikeret herself, crimson coat flapping in the
wind, raised a hand from the prow of the Sanguine Marauder.
“I met with Aikeret before we set sail,” he said. “She offered us an escort, to show that her allegiance is
still with the Silver Prince.”
The pirate fleet joined them in formation as the Mariner set course for Stygia. The Bride looked out over
the waves as the Isle of Bitter Tears receded into the mists. “I suspect the bounty on my head might have
tripled,” she said, as the Kingeater joined her at the rail.
“Let him try,” she said. “Now come on. I found some wine in the cargo hold, and I promised I’d take you
sailing.”
Introduction
“There is only one liberty, to com e to term s w ith death; thereafter
anything is possible.”
— Albert Cam us
Never before has Creation known the perils of the Abyssal Exalted. They have emerged from the gloom
of the Underworld as champions of death, sworn to the service of the Deathlords and the Neverborn. Each
was offered the gift of the Bleak Exaltation at the moment of their own demise, and each chose to
willingly become an agent of the apocalypse. Their motivations are as manifold as any others — they may
seek destruction or domination, malice or justice, ancient secrets hidden and forbidden or sheer iron-
willed survival.
In service to their lieges, these deathknights will grind the Underworld to heel and scour life from the face
of Creation. Or…they might break from those oaths and set themselves up as death’s own Lawgivers,
ruling empires of the dead as sages, arbiters, and reapers. All that can be known for sure is that with the
Abyssal Exalted loosed upon the world, it will never be the same again.

This Book at a Glance

Chapter One: The Abyssal Exalted introduces the Abyssals, those dark champions Chosen at the
moment of their deaths.
Chapter Two: The Deathlords details the nine unique and mighty ghosts who serve as patron and liege
to the Abyssals — their deathly accomplishments, dark intentions, and plots of conquest and carnage.
Chapter Three: The Underworld explores the grim land of the dead and the ghosts who inhabit it,
providing strange vistas both harrowing and hallowed.
Chapter Four: Character Creation provides rules for creating Abyssal player characters.
Chapter Five: Traits details the Abyssal Castes and provides rules for the Great Curse and the chivalry
of death.
Chapter Six: Charms reveals the apocalyptic magic of the Abyssal Exalted, by which they may
slaughter armies, bind the dead, and spread death’s dark gifts upon Creation.
Chapter Seven: Martial Arts and Necromancy presents new martial arts styles employed by the
Abyssal Exalted and unleashes the secrets of necromancy — a system of spellcraft based on the principles
of the Underworld.
Chapter Eight: Artifacts details soulsteel wonders fit for the champions of death.
Chapter Nine: The Roll of Deathly Personages offers an array of characters who might serve as allies
and antagonists, including powerful ghosts, undead behemoths, and Abyssal Exalted.

Lexicon
Abyssal Exalted: The Chosen of the Neverborn, whose deathly powers are dark mirrors to the magic of
the Solar Exalted.
afterlife, primeval: A location in the Underworld that naturally resonates with a certain kind of death,
such as murder victims, the drowned, or those struck by lightning.
afterlife, ritual: A location in the Underworld that resonates with the prayer and rites of a particular
culture from Creation.
behemoth: A term for any unique, powerful being that doesn’t otherwise fit a particular category; the
Underworld is full of undead behemoths of terrible power and enigmatic nature.
chivalry of death: A code of conduct emanating from the nature of the Neverborn, rewarding their
servants for inflicting torment, slaying worthy foes, and spreading death’s embrace until Creation and the
Underworld are one.
deathknight: A term for an Abyssal who serves a Deathlord liege. Those who break from the Deathlords
are known as deathknights-errant.
Deathlords, the: Ghosts of the Exalted who swore to serve the Neverborn in exchange for power. They
are charged with the annihilation of Creation, and entrusted with the Abyssal Exalted as their vassals.
Dual Monarchs, the: Ancient and powerful ghosts who ruled over Stygia before the conquest, now
largely relegated to ceremonial duties.
ghost: A dead being’s lingering soul, which retains warped echoes of their personality, will, and purpose.
Usually refers to the remnant of the higher soul; lower souls are instead known as hungry ghosts.
grave goods: Significant objects and wealth buried or burned alongside a body during its funeral, which
appear alongside their ghost and often become particularly beautiful or valuable in the Underworld.
Labyrinth, the: A subterranean nightmare-realm that exists below the Underworld, inhabited by specters
and other dead horrors.
Lethe: An enigmatic force that predates the Underworld, washing away the memories of a soul’s past life
before it moves on to reincarnation.
hungry ghost: A remnant of a being’s lower soul which retains traces of their personality and passions,
but which is possessed of animalistic intelligence and instincts.
Monstrance of Celestial Portion: Mystical vessels constructed by the Deathlords, allowing them to
wield power stolen from the lost Solar Exaltations to identify and Exalt their Abyssal champions.
necromancy: A system of spellcraft that is equal to sorcery, but focused on the Essence of death and the
Underworld.
nephwrack: A specter who serves as a high priest to the Neverborn, losing almost all their former
identity in exchange for power and dark purpose.
Neverborn, the: those ancients who were slain during the Divine Revolution and now suffer agonizing
nightmares in their massive tomb-bodies.
shadowland: A death-touched place where Creation and the Underworld overlap, allowing ghosts and
mortals to interact; its boundaries lead to Creation by day and the Underworld by night.
specter: A ghost twisted by the influences of the Labyrinth or the Neverborn, almost always becoming
hostile or alien in the process.
spirit art: The common magics possessed by some ghosts, including possession, curses, blessings, and
other powers; sometimes referred to as arcanoi by scholars.
sobriquet: The title an Abyssal uses in place of their original name, usually given to them by their
Deathlord shortly after Exaltation.
soul: The spiritual presence of a being; mortal souls are usually divided into the higher soul (which
contains a being’s reason and memory) and the lower soul (containing instinct and passion).
soulsteel: One of the five magical materials, a black steel alloy forged from fragmented souls.
Stygia: The grandest city of the Underworld, and one of the few created by the dead themselves; it was
conquered by massed armies of an alliance known as the Stygian Pact.
Underworld, the: The land of the dead, a realm of existence where the souls of the living go after death,
sometimes to pass into Lethe, and other times to linger as ghosts.
Whispers: The agonized voices of the Neverborn as they rage within their tombs, which can corrupt
those who listen but also provide terrible enlightenment.

Suggested Resources
The following media may offer inspiration for players and Storyteller interested in sagas of blood-stained
ambition and necromantic power.

Classics
The Saga of Hervor and Heidrek, source unknown: A legendary Icelandic saga, the section
“Hervararkviða” depicts sheildmaiden Hervor’s martial exploits and struggles. Her confrontation of the
ghost of her father to claim his cursed sword is a perfect example of how Abyssals might retrieve potent
artifacts from the dead.

Fiction
The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir: This series follows the adventures and affairs of powerful
necromancer-nobles and their knightly attendants, offering ample inspiration for the bloody ambitions of
the Abyssals and the courtly politics of the Deathlords — as well as the feats made possible by powerful
necromancy.

Manga
Berserk by Kentaro Miura: The story of a bloody-handed warrior with an enormous sword and a grim
fate as he struggles for revenge against a former friend. This manga codified the intricate Gothic
aesthetics that inspired the Underworld, and Guts’ quest pits him against a Deathlord-like god of evil.
Content warnings for depictions of graphic and sexual violence.

Television
Castlevania, by Warren Ellis: While the video game series is an excellent inspiration for Abyssals
throughout its many entries, the Castlevania animated series adapts and condenses many of its most
relevant themes. Dracula and the later Council of Sisters are strong examples of the intrigue Deathlords
and established Abyssals might be entangled in, while Alucard’s journey is a model for deathknights-
errant who break from their masters to forge a new destiny.
Revolutionary Girl Utena by Be-Papas: While an unusually vibrant inspiration, Utena is rich with the
Baroque chivalry of the Abyssals, and the strange motivations of its characters model the passion plays of
the dead. Its Black Rose arc is particularly grim, with an antagonist who evokes the destructive
philosophies of the Bishop and Lover. Content warnings for abuse, gaslighting, and sexual assault.

Video Games
The Dark Souls franchise by From Software: These games are filled with nightmarish, beautifully
decaying purgatories inhabited by lonely souls haunted by purpose, passion, and melancholy. Its bleak
vistas perfectly evoke shadowlands and the Underworld.
Chapter One: The Abyssal Exalted
The Abyssal Exalted ride forth from the sunless lands on pale horses. They bear black blades forged from
the damned, and lair in the barrows of fallen kings. Sacraments and cerecloth are their finery; funereal
incense, their perfume. As deathknights, they pledge fealty to unholy lieges, serving as their greatest and
most terrible champions. As Death’s Lawgivers, they bring a new order to the Underworld, toppling
ancient dynasties and conquering great empires of the dead.
Death’s Chosen are creatures of dark passion and the romance of the grave. Graced with bleak majesty,
they are warrior-poets, necromancer-kings, and philosophers of death. They follow a strange chivalry,
staying their hands at unexpected moments for reasons of their own. Thus do they serve the will of the
Neverborn, the slain ancients entombed in the Underworld’s depths.
The Abyssals are newly come to the world, and Creation and the Underworld alike tremble at their
arrival. Armies of the dead shamble forth from the shadowlands; dark gospels poison the kingdoms of the
living. The Deathlords hope for the fulfillment of their ambitions. The Neverborn long for the world’s
end. But the Abyssals’ dark future is theirs alone to decide.

History
It has been but five years since the first Abyssals rose, but the forces behind their creation were set into
motion long ago.

Death of the Neverborn

When the gods and their Chosen made war against the ancients, the enemies of the gods knew death for
the first time. The Neverborn fell through reality into the Underworld’s uttermost depths, slain titans
imprisoned within the tombs that are their corpses. They are not dead, for death was never meant for its
own makers, but they are eternally dying. It is pain beyond imagining, an endless nightmare from which
there is no reprieve. The Neverborn do not scheme, or speak, or even think. In what brief intervals of
lucidity they might have, all they can do is long for existence’s end.

Rise of the Deathlords

The Deathlords rose out of the ashes of the First Age’s collapse, vengeful ghosts of the Usurpation. One
by one, they sought out the Neverborn and invoked ancient rites to pact with the dead titans. They are
paramount forces among the dead, immortal ghost-emperors ruling from dark citadels. Stygia, capital and
twilight jewel of the Underworld, has been conquered and carved up by many among the Deathlords and
other great powers among the dead. The Great Contagion that brought the world to its knees was the
greatest of their triumphs, toppling the Shogunate and reaching perilously close to the extinction of all
life.
In the centuries since, the Deathlords continued to amass power in the Underworld, but grew increasingly
bolder in their forays into Creation. Countless shadowlands opened in the Contagion’s wake, and those
who might oppose the Deathlords had been cast into disarray. They kept their true nature concealed, for
the Realm soon grew into a formidable foe, while the likes of the Silver Pact and the Fivescore
Fellowship replenished their strength.

Creation of the Abyssal Exalted

The Deathlords discovered that the power of the Solar Exalted had been sealed away in their early days
— though perhaps some among them already knew, having had a hand in the Usurpation. Some sought to
find the Jade Prison and harness its power to their own ends, but their early efforts proved futile. It was a
scheme largely abandoned, especially as the Deathlords found other sources of fell power to bend to their
will.
In time, though, one among the Deathlords finally discovered the Jade Prison, hidden among the stars in
the constellation of the Mask. None of them could claim it alone, and so they came together in an alliance
sworn upon the Styx’s waters. Their labors were many, drawing upon the collected knowledge of the
Deathlords, their myriad masteries and attainments brought into temporary alliance. Some pacted with the
Yozis, those ancient ones who survived the Divine Revolution, for the secrets they knew of Exaltation.
Others used that knowledge to devise the Monstrances of Celestial Portion, vessels of such wretched
power that they could wrest the imprisoned Exaltations from the Unconquered Sun’s will.
Key to the Deathlord’s schemes was the Calendar of Setesh, which governs the Underworld’s ambiguous
seasons, stars, and days. Stygia’s old rulers, the Dual Monarchs, guarded it fiercely, but a unified front
among the Deathlords who’d taken part in the city’s conquest forced the Dual Monarchs to yield.
Standing at the Calendar’s heart as Calibration began in Creation, the greatest necromancers among the
Deathlords worked a ritual to bring together the stars of the two worlds. As Creation and the Underworld
united under the same sky for five nights of horror, the constellation of the Mask shone above Stygia. The
constellation trembled as death’s Essence spread through it, and the Jade Prison fell into the Underworld
like a falling star.
The Deathlords claimed the Jade Prison, but could not take all that was sealed within. They succeeded in
binding the Solar Exaltations within the Monstrances of Celestial Portion, but some escaped their grasp.
Others were owed to their allies among the Yozis, an oath even the Deathlords dared not break — for in
exchange, the Yozis had taught them magics to corrupt the stolen Exaltations. The first of Abyssal
champions rose from death five years ago, changing the course of history for the living and the dead alike.

Knights of Tumult
Already, the Deathlords’ plans have grown bolder as their Abyssal champions have grown into their
power. The Mask of Winters’ conquest of Thorns remains the most audacious move made by them,
revealing the Deathlords’ presence and nature, but he’s not alone in the expanding scope of his ambitions
— agents of the Heron take ever-greater bounties, assassinating dignitaries and heroes across the world,
while the Bishop’s Shining Way swells its flock with the sermons of its deathknight-clerics. The Abyssals
ride forth as conquerors leading armies of the damned, prophets spreading bleak doctrine, and
necromancers leaving blight and corruption in their wake.
The Abyssals have scarcely had time to realize the fullness of their own power and ambitions. Creation’s
order crumbles, while the Underworld’s balance of power has been cast into flux. Out of the corpse of the
dying present, there are many futures Death’s Chosen might carve.

The Bleak Exaltation

A swordswoman lies broken on the battlefield, the last of her lifeblood slowly draining out into the mud.
A physician wastes away on their sickbed, finally succumbing to the plague that’s ravaged his patients. A
thief is marched toward the gallows as hungry raitons circle overhead. It is from the likes of these that the
Abyssal Exalted are chosen. The Bleak Exaltation comes at death’s doorway, a frozen moment before the
final heartbeat. The Deathlord speaks to their chosen candidate, manifesting as a spectral apparition or
whispering in their mind.
On the seventh day of his exile, the desert took him. Delirious from sunstroke and dehydration,
he collapsed into the sand, weakly waiting to die. And then a wind blew over him — cold,
painfully cold, piercing through skin and fat and bone to chill the very marrow. Blood trickled
down from the dark places between stars, staining the sands red. He wailed, for if he was not
dead, then he must surely be mad. And in the wind’s whispering, he heard the price of his
survival.
The Deathlords offer potential Abyssals a simple choice. Those willing to accept their death are free to
reject the Exaltation, free to rot in the grave while their enemies prosper. But for those unwilling to die,
the Deathlords offer glorious resurrection, power beyond mortal ken, and immortality — for a price. The
Abyssal must swear themselves to death, vowing to deliver all life to its final end and forsaking their
place among the living. If she is willing to pay that cost, then she draws her Last Breath, and the power of
Death’s Chosen is hers.
“Even the birds?” She immediately felt foolish. Why hadn’t she asked about her family? Why
waste her last breath? Not that it would have changed the answer. Even the birds must die, and
they would die by her hand. But the birds didn’t matter. Her family didn’t matter. She was dying.
She was drowning. How could she not accept?
It is only with the power of the Monstrances of Celestial Portion that the Deathlords can choose Abyssals,
wresting that decision away from the Unconquered Sun. Even then, they cannot flout the Incarna’s
designs entirely. They must choose their Abyssals from the ranks of those whom the Sun might have
found worthy of Exaltation, fallen heroes and those whose potential for greatness was never realized in
life.
Rarely had the Deathlord seen such tenacity among the living. Even as the Immaculate began
their grisly spectacle, the priest refused to recant the beliefs of their ancestor cult. And with
every minute bought by their defiance, their disciples came closer and closer to safety. This one
would surely be a worthy deathknight.

M onstrances of Celestial Portion

Monstrances of Celestial Portion are the unholy vessels of Abyssal Exaltation.
They often take the form of an ostensory where the sun is caged in black iron or
soulsteel, though designs vary between the Deathlords — the Lion’s are devoid of
embellishment, while the Dowager’s are crude-seeming trophies of rune-etched
bone and hide fashioned from the spoils of her hunts.
A monstrance is more than just a cage for Exaltation. The Deathlords wield them
to choose their Abyssals, and to work the necromancies with which they seek out
candidates for the Last Breath. An Abyssal’s monstrance affords her Deathlord no
inherent control over her, though it can be used as a permanent link for spells like
Silent Words of Dreams and Nightmares (Exalted, p. 475). It’s unknown what a
monstrance’s destruction might entail.

Abyssal Nature
When an Abyssal draws her Last Breath, her mortal life ends. Her flesh still lives, but her soul is dead.
The thread of her fate is severed, and her name is cast aside. Death’s Essence flows through her, marking
her forevermore.
Should they stray from the Underworld’s dark sanctuary, Abyssals are rejected by Creation itself, finding
no home among the living. Stepping out of the shadowlands, they feel a slight discomfort, which builds to
an awful, vertiginous anguish the farther they go and the longer they remain in the living world. Its
sunlight is too bright, its air is too thin, and its beauty seems faded in their eyes, compared to the majesty
of death.
The Abyssals are not doomed to serve the Neverborn’s apocalyptic desires, but those who fail to uphold
their dark oaths face consequences for dereliction. The Great Curse that fell upon the Solars has taken
root in the Abyssal’s vow to end all life. When their transgressions rouse the curse, it calls doom down
upon them and the world around them. Renegade Abyssals who defy the Neverborn’s will are eerie
figures, haunted by ill omens and dark miracles.

Forsaken Names
When an Abyssal accepts her Deathlord’s bargain and renounces her place among the living, she
sacrifices the name she had in life. The dark miracle of her Exaltation flenses it from her as she is reborn,
and she will never bear another name again. In its place, she claims a sobriquet or title suited to their role
as a champion of the Deathlords and Chosen of the Neverborn: The Hollow Carnifex of the Unclean
Legion, the Falling Tears Poet, the Keeper of the Raven Promise.
Abyssals who cling to their lost names court doom, for they risk stirring their accursed Essence if they so
much as answer when called by their former name. That name belonged to one who was alive, and it is
not meet for Death’s Chosen to bear such affectations of mortality.

The Trappings of Death

When the Abyssals leave the Underworld, they armor themselves in reminders of death’s presence. They
dress in mourning garb or the vestments of the dead: funerary linens, cerecloth, silken winding sheets,
black veils, death masks, and more. They adorn themselves in jewelry and ornaments carved from bone or
decorated with motifs of death or darkness. They perfume themselves with embalming ointments and
unguents, or with the scent of nightshade or other poisonous flowers. While dressed in these trappings of
death, the Abyssal is inured from the worst of Creation’s ravages — the light burns less brightly, and each
breath is refreshed by the grave’s icy respite.
Abyssals lairing in Creation often seek out crypts, mausoleums, and untended graves, places of death that
afford them a similar shelter. The scent of withered roses and funereal candles hangs heavy in their halls,
accentuating the perfume of decay.

Essence Fever
The power of death flows through an Abyssal, calling out to be used. This Essence fever urges
deathknights great and awful deeds, almost intoxicating to those who’ve yet to master their Essence. Its
pull is strongest when an Abyssal is gripped by dark passions or tempted by her worst impulses.
Many Abyssals soon learn to control their Essence fever, either under their Deathlord’s instruction or by
self-discipline and force of will. Its motivation can be channeled toward an Abyssal’s own ends, but she
must still confront the worst parts of herself as she does.

Past Lives
Abyssals experience memories of their past incarnations in many ways: strange dreams, intense dejà vu,
feverish visions. Some fall into flashbacks, reliving ancient history. Others’ memories play out in the
world as baleful omens of their Great Curse. This most often occurs when an Abyssal encounters
someone or something she knew in one of her past lives.
For most Abyssals, the moments they remember most strongly from their past lives as Solar Exalted are
their deaths, and this ancient enmity weighs heavily upon their souls and deeds. Other memories are
dimmer. The First Age is hazy and nondescript; the Divine Revolution is all but lost, remembered only in
nameless passions and nightmarish visions.
The Usurpation is still a fresh wound for some among Death’s Chosen. Driven by memories of lost glory,
they seek to reclaim their stolen thrones and avenge themselves against their betrayers. Others nurse their
predecessor’s ancient grudges against the past lives of other Exalted — sometimes their own closest
companions.
Like the Solars, the Abyssals are heir to more than just memories. The barrow-treasures of their past lives
are theirs by right. Debts, obligations, and feuds incurred by her predecessors may be held against her by
the ghost of ancient Exalted and other timeless spirits. Some find themselves drawn to the Lunar Exalted,
for the sacred union of the Chosen of Sun and Moon endures undiminished by the Abyssals’ corruption.

Longevity
The Abyssal Exalted have been promised immortality by the Deathlords. Having been created only five
years ago, they can’t know for sure whether this is true, but those who’ve investigated their bleak
masters’ claims find little reason to doubt them.

Sworn to the Deathlords

Death’s Chosen were not made to be minions, servants, or slaves. The Deathlords prize their deathknights
above almost all else, believing that the Abyssals will prove themselves the greatest of their champions in
time. Their place is at their lord’s right hand. Thus, while relationships between Deathlords and
deathknights can vary wildly, most are akin to that of a master and apprentice.
The Deathlords struggle to forge bonds of loyalty with their Abyssals, but they must. Warped by
millennia of death and the power of the Neverborn, the ancient ghost-kings are estranged from much of
their humanity, and they care little for the customs or civilities of the living. They must remind
themselves that their deathknights are still callow with mortality, unfamiliar with the sunless lands of the
dead. It is a testament to the Abyssals’ value that even the most inhuman among the Deathlords may
suborn their instincts and treat with their deathknights as people.
Some Abyssals are fanatically devoted to their Deathlords, seeing them as true gods of death come to
make the world pure and good. Others feel no loyalty at all, tolerating their demands for the sake of
ambition, greed, or the like. Most fall somewhere in between; it’s easy to feel gratitude when you’ve been
saved from death, and most Deathlords ply their champions with opulent gifts and priceless treasures.

The Road to Perdition

After an Abyssal’s Exaltation, she must appear before her liege. This is easily accomplished when a
Deathlord finds a candidate within his own dominion, with the new deathknight swiftly led back to her
master’s citadel by an honor guard of the dead. Some Deathlords might even intervene directly, stepping
forward out of a darkness filled with unblinking eyes or rising up from the earth in a pillar of pyreflame.
But such good fortune is rare. Most Abyssals are found far from their lieges, for none can predict where
those worthy of the Bleak Exaltation might arise. Such far-flung deathknights typically receive guidance
from their masters, eerie omens and portents that lead to where their liege wills. Few Deathlords are
willing to leave new Abyssals to their own devices for long, lest they come to regret their bargain or be
tempted away by other powers of the Underworld, and dispatch spectral heralds, ghostly trackers, or even
other Abyssals.
Upon arriving, the new Abyssal is given a welcome worthy of Death’s Chosen. Some Deathlords greet
them with opulent fetes and effusive adulation, showing the new deathknight the rewards of faithful
service. Others make somber, dignified affairs of these homecomings, impressing upon the young
Abyssal the importance she holds to her master’s goals.

Initiation Rites
A deathknight’s service begins with her tutelage. Each Deathlord has their own approach to training new
Abyssals, but all Death’s Chosen must study the skills with which they are to serve their liege, the
civilities of the Underworld, and the code of death’s chivalry. Each Abyssal’s course of study is tailored
to them, and to the future their Deathlord envisions for them. A Dusk Caste who was little more than
hired muscle in life might have the makings of a general in her master’s eyes, studying warfare at his side
on the battlefield, while a Daybreak surgeon may be granted the time, resources, and ghostly tutors to
perfect her research as she unlocks the secrets of necromancy.
Once an Abyssal’s training has progressed to her liege’s satisfaction, the Deathlord will often command
her to undertake a journey across the Underworld, either alone or alongside a Circle of fellow
deathknights. For most Abyssals, this is their first exposure to ghostly society, and there is much they
must learn of the ways of the dead to serve their masters’ will. Such grand tours also provide their first
opportunity to begin making allies and connections of their own within the Underworld.

A Deathknight’s Labors
At first, a fledgling Abyssal’s duties are meant more to provide her with experience than to serve her
Deathlord’s goals. As she wins her master’s trust, she’s rewarded with new privileges and new
responsibilities. Her Deathlord might entrust her with leading his forces to conquer a necropolis-kingdom,
or appoint her to govern a troublesome tributary in the Underworld or in Creation that requires her
expertise.
Each Deathlord has unique perspective on how best to employ their deathknights. Depending on her
strengths and her Deathlord’s needs, an Abyssal might serve as a general, spymaster, artificer, bodyguard,
ambassador, or assassin. A Moonshadow Caste’s passion for poetry might go unappreciated by some
Deathlords, while others might see her potential as an evangelist or propagandist. But no Abyssal is
chosen lightly — each has a part to play in their Deathlord’s plans.
Some deathknights spend much of their time working at their Deathlord’s side, while others visit their
master in person only between expeditions that take them to far corners of Creation or the Underworld.
Often, an Abyssal’s duties require her to work alongside her fellow deathknights, in pairs, trios, or
occasional Circles.

The Chivalry of Death

The will of the Neverborn was not communicated to the Deathlords when they swore themselves to the
service of the dead ancients. Even at their most lucid, the fallen world-makers could not voice their wants
and commands. Instead, the Deathlords have spent centuries learning their masters’ desires as best they
can — scouring the Underworld’s hidden corners for secrets lost when history began, wielding
necromancy and puissant artifacts to unearth the past, stealing insight from ancient specters, or
communing with the Whispers that emanate from the Neverborn’s corpse-tombs. The chivalry of death is
a code that embodies the Neverborn’s desires, as understood by the Deathlords.
Abyssals are taught the chivalry of death by their patron Deathlords, though their lessons vary starkly.
The Lover espouses it as the philosophical foundation of all she does, while the First and Forsaken Lion
grimly regards it as a line that must be toed to keep his masters content. The Silver Prince gives it little
weight, preferring his own grand visions of cultural supremacy, while the Dowager can scarcely
distinguish her own will from that of the Neverborn. Even deathknights-errant come to understand death’s
chivalry, gleaning insight from intuition and premonitions.
The Abyssals are not the Deathlords, and need not fear the Neverborn’s punishment should they renounce
the chivalry of death. Yet an Abyssal’s very Exaltation is stained with the dead ancients’ Essence, and
upholding death’s chivalry brings them into harmony with their divine nature.
The foremost tenets of death’s chivalry are these:
Better long torment than a quick death. It is not enough simply to kill the living — they must be made
to despair, to abandon their hopes and ideals, to become complicit in horrors themselves, before they are
slain. Deaths born out of the culmination of such degradations please the Neverborn far more than a
hundred lesser slaughters.
The mighty must fall before the weak. Death visited upon the vulnerable and defenseless is a paltry
offering to the Neverborn. Better to break the champions of the living — those who are looked to for
hope, protection, and guidance — before turning to those under their guardianship.
Let life be drowned in death. If the worlds of the living and the dead are as one, the Neverborn might
imagine themselves free of their eternal death. When shadowlands open the boundaries between Creation
and the Underworld, when necromancy taints the Essence of the world, when the living walk alongside
the dead — these things offer the slain ancients a transient solace.

Deathknights-Errant
Despite the Deathlords’ best efforts, not all Abyssals are content to serve their masters. Some come to
regret their dark oaths and renounce the Neverborn entirely, while others chafe under the rule of the
Deathlord who claimed them. These renegades are known as deathknights-errant, tragic heroes who
wander Creation and the Underworld alike.
Most deathknights-errant who succeed in escaping their master flee in the days soon after their Exaltation,
before their Deathlords’ agents have tracked them down. Once an Abyssal has been found and brought to
her master’s place of power, escape becomes far more difficult — though never impossible. Such would-
be renegades must choose their moment carefully, and often turn to other allies or patrons to facilitate
their defection.
Many deathknights-errant return to their mortal lives at first, but rarely stay long. To do so invites the
dark doom of their Great Curse, promising tragedy to come. Some pursue personal ambitions forbidden to
them by their Deathlords. Others embrace their role as Death’s Lawgivers, seeking rank among the dead
as prophets, conquerors, or revolutionaries. Some deathknights-errant even turn against the Deathlords
and their Neverborn masters, swearing defiance to the end.
Not all deathknights-errant are traitors. One might forsake a Deathlord, but remain faithful to the
Neverborn, serving the fallen ancients as they see fit. In time, these Abyssals might find a new master,
pledging themselves to another Deathlord whose goals and methods align with their own.
Even Abyssals who reject the Neverborn’s will remain bound by it. Many deathknights-errant still
observe death’s chivalry, lest the cost of their transgressions consume them utterly. They must seek
middle ground between what their conscience allows and what the Neverborn demand, visiting doom on
tyrants, slave traders, crime syndicates, and their ilk. Such is the justice of the Death’s Chosen.
The Deathlords are formidable in tracking down their wayward champions, but mighty as they are, their
forces are finite, and there is only so much they can justify for a single deathknight. A renegade Abyssal
might find herself pursued by packs of specters, necromantic horrors, strange Underworld bounty hunters,
or loyalist deathknights, but not the entirety of a Deathlord’s legions of the damned. With caution,
cunning, and vigilance, a deathknight-errant might keep her freedom — at least until the next time her
former master’s hounds come baying for her.

Storytelling for Deathknights-E rrant

In games with renegade Abyssals as player characters, their players, the Storyteller
and the rest of the playgroup should talk before the game begins to determine how
much emphasis to put on their former Deathlord and his forces as antagonists. The
level of emphasis should match the playgroup’s interest in dealing with the
Deathlord. If the player characters are a Circle of deathknights-errant who
defected together, conflict with their former master is likely an inevitable part of
the story. If the playgroup would rather focus on other antagonists, a deathknight-
errant’s former master doesn’t need to have any presence on screen.

Death’s Lawgivers
The Solars of old were Creation’s Lawgivers, and the Abyssal Exalted are heirs to that legacy. As Death’s
Lawgivers, the Abyssal claim the right to cast down the old orders of the Underworld and raise up new
ones, delivering the dead out of bondage and tyranny. When the people are ignorant of the Old Laws, the
Abyssal Exalted bring knowledge. When they intervene in the affairs of the dead, they are not living
interlopers, but dread and holy personages of the sunless realm.
As Death’s Lawgivers, the Abyssals can also be champions of the dead among the living. Some lead
ancestor cults from the shadowlands or defend the faithful as holy guardians. Others are speakers for the
dead, eulogizing the unmourned and ensuring their names are remembered. Still others still might
preserve the knowledge and traditions of long-extinct cultures, rebuke the living when they fail to honor
their ancestors, or keep watch over ancient ruins.
Abyssals who embrace their role as Death’s Lawgiver need not compromise their loyalties. Most
Deathlords see value in having ambitious deathknights, especially when those deathknight’s goals win
them allies and favor among the dead.

Damnation and Redemption

Every Abyssal has pledged themselves to the extinction of all life. Having spoken words they can never
revoke, they’re left to wrestle with what that means to them. Even those who serve their Deathlord
faithfully may be uneasy with what they’ve done. Nature and circumstance predispose them toward
brooding over this, though some prefer to drown their qualms in hedonistic revelry and raucous
debauches.
Some Abyssals see their vow as an unforgivable sin, the ultimate betrayal of their beliefs and convictions.
These deathknights struggle with the guilt and shame of betraying their world, their souls stained beyond
redemption by a moment’s lapse. Others see it as a desperate act of survival, refusing to condemn
themselves for a choice made under the utmost duress. But doubt is insidious, and even the most stalwart
of these Abyssals sometimes question if they’re really as blameless as they say they are.
Other deathknights have no regrets. Some view it pragmatically: the cost of survival was high, but it was
a price they’re glad to have paid. Guilt may gnaw at them, but each eventually finds their own way of
dealing with it. The most ardent extremists speak eagerly of ending all things, yearning to fulfill their
vow. For some, especially young Abyssals, this speaks to naïveté, a childish view of the apocalypse held
by those who have no idea what it actually means. But for others, it’s a thoroughly considered position.
Some are devout believers in their Deathlords’ apocalyptic theologies, and consider extinction the highest
act of compassion. For others still, it’s nothing more than hatred, rage, and cruelty.
Some Abyssals come to their Deathlord with their questions and doubts, for the necromancer-kings swore
vows of their own to become what they are. Only the most zealous of Deathlords truly wish to end all
things, giving the deathknights more common ground than they might expect. Ultimately, though, no
Deathlord wishes to lose an Abyssal to such qualms. If pressed, they’ll say whatever they need to in order
to assuage their deathknight’s conscience.
Abyssals who can’t find satisfying answers to these may eventually come to question their loyalty to their
Deathlord. Some abandon their liege, riding out as deathknights-errant. Those who seek redemption find
it as best they know how — opposing their Deathlord and his forces, risking the Great Curse’s doom to
help the living, bringing beauty and hope into the world. But not every deathknight with a noble heart has
abandoned her liege’s service. Even among the Deathlords’ most loyal champions, there are some who
wish it was otherwise.

A Sunlit Path
Some Abyssals ultimately find peace with what they’ve done and what they are as Death’s Lawgivers,
champions of the dead, the doom of the wicked. But for others, their accursed existence is a constant
reminder of their unforgivable sin. Some dream of the day when life’s Essence fills their veins and their
oaths to the Neverborn are shattered.
Such hopes may yet be fulfilled. The Abyssals were created by corrupting Solar Exaltation, and a dim
spark of the Sun’s flame burns within their poisoned hearts. None know what such a journey might look
like, but there is a possibility. If one could find the way, they could be cleansed of the Neverborn’s
corruption, transformed into one of the Solar Exalted and freed from their damning vow.
The details of what this transformation entails are left to individual Storytellers and playgroups to devise.
It shouldn’t be an easy journey or short one. Such redemption should come as the culmination of an
ongoing story, potentially an entire chronicle. Storytellers should emphasize the Abyssal’s personal
growth over external assistance. Even if the Unconquered Sun himself denies her, redemption is not
beyond the Abyssal’s reach. The quest along the sunlit path might involve self-sacrifice, opposing the
Neverborn’s forces, passion for life, building positive relationships with the living, and clinging to hope
even when all is darkest.

Solar Corruption?
If an Abyssal can become a Solar, is the reverse also possible? Just like redemption,
this possibility is left up to the Storyteller. Even if the truth remains unknown in
your game, some Deathlords believe it may be the case, and take especial interest
in Solars who seem like they could be tempted to their damnation.
Chapter Two: The Deathlords
The Deathlords are the Underworld’s reigning terrors. Vengeful ghosts of the Usurpation, these
necromancer-tyrants sold their souls to the Neverborn, the ever-writhing corpses of the world’s makers.
They remember little of who they were in life. Their names are gone, consigned unto the void, and
centuries of undeath have warped them into things no longer human. Like all ghosts, they are creatures of
obsession almost entirely consumed by their greatest passions — their ambitions are monstrous, their
passions grotesque, and their hatred illimitable.

Secret History
In life, each Deathlord was among the Exalted who fell in the bloody cataclysm that ended the First Age,
including both the betrayed Lawgivers and their foes. Each, in time, found their way to stand before the
tombs of the Neverborn, and desecrated the Old Laws to make a pact with the dead gods. Thus rose the
Deathlords, sworn to the world’s end.
The Deathlords did not ride out of the Labyrinth like a storm to fell Creation all at once. Their rise was
slow, unnoticed by the living and most among the dead. As the world of the living recovered from the
Usurpation, the Deathlords set about amassing power. The First and Forsaken Lion recruited the greatest
warriors among the dead to their Legion Sanguinary. The Mask of Winters sowed spies among the
Underworld’s kingdoms, laying the foundations of his intelligence network. The Dowager of the
Irreverent Vulgate discovered unimagined necromantic horrors writ on towering bone steles. As centuries
passed, they carved out their Underworld domains, establishing their place among the great powers of the
dead.
Then came the Great Contagion, plunging Creation and the Underworld alike into upheaval. Few know
that it was one of the Deathlords, the Dowager, who loosed the apocalyptic plague upon the living. In the
chaos that followed, many of her peers made their bids for power. The Stygian Pact, an uneasy coalition
of Deathlords and other great Underworld conquerors, marched on Stygia, sacred necropolis of the Dual
Monarchs, citing the influx of the Contagion dead as a pretext to establish military order. Mighty as
Stygia’s defenders were, the Dual Monarchs were ultimately forced to surrender to the thirteen
conquerors. Meanwhile, in the periphery of the Underworld and the shadowlands beyond, those
Deathlords not involved in Stygia’s conquest reaped the benefits of upheaval and the flood of new ghosts
to cement their powerful positions.

Lords of Death’s Dominion

The Deathlords’ oaths bind them to the Neverborn’s apocalyptic purpose. In exchange, the ghost-kings
know power unrivaled among the dead. They serve their dread masters in many ways, each with their
own strengths. The First and Forsaken Lion is unmatched as a general, while the Lover Clad in the
Raiment of Tears poisons nations with her words. All are seasoned necromancers, though only a few have
mastered the final secrets of the Void Circle.
The fallen titans’ pact promised not just power, but immortality. Even the magic that felled the world’s
makers cannot truly destroy a Deathlord. The Neverborn will stir in their slumber, and in their nightmares
the fallen Deathlord will be remade. Wisdom holds that this has happened only once thus far, when the
Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils returned from annihilation. Her resurrection and its
lasting effect on her corpus and spirit have made the other Deathlords wary — they may return from
utmost destruction, but not as they might wish themselves to be. To the Neverborn, this is irrelevant.
Some among the Deathlords still fear the possibility of complete annihilation. Cryptic legends and strange
portents hint at a singular flaw in each Deathlord’s immortality, vulnerabilities in the cracked Old Laws
that not even the Neverborn could circumvent. Each bane would have the power to unmake its Deathlord
utterly; fear that hers had been discovered was key to the Black Heron’s defeat by the founders of Great
Forks. The Deathlords follow up on rumors and prophecies, but few have unearthed anything more than
the haunting sense that these weaknesses are out there, waiting.

The Deathlords’ Schemes

Spectacle such as the Contagion have been the exception rather than the rule, for the Deathlords do not
dream of a single grand, apocalyptic triumph. Most of their plans are smaller in scale, though still far
from modest. The Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible has spread his grim doctrine of death across the
Northwest. The Walker in Darkness sows turmoil and instability among the Scavenger Lands, poisoning
its petty princelings against each other. Such schemes may not fell empires in a single stroke, but the
Deathlords plan many steps ahead, and have all eternity to fulfill their labors.
Only rarely do the Deathlords work together. After more than a millennium, their petty grievances,
betrayals, and rivalries have poisoned the well for almost all of them. While they might enter into
politically motivated alliances, there is no trust among Deathlords.
While the Deathlords are masterful schemers, they aren’t without flaw. Few are familiar with Creation’s
current political realities, heavily dependent on their spies among the living to stay abreast. The First and
Forsaken Lion, for instance, is largely unfamiliar with the military doctrine of the Second Age’s armies,
and might be caught off guard by a brilliant general among the living.
Not all Deathlords are equally devoted to their masters’ will. While none shy from slaughtering the living
or raising up great empires of the damned, the Neverborn wish to see the end of all life, the death of
Creation, and the dissolution of the Underworld. Few Deathlords are willing to go so far, for they have
ambitions of their own beyond mere destruction.

The Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible

The core of the Bishop’s doctrine is thus:
I. Existence is the first sin. It has damned you to your pain, your wants, the frailties of your flesh and
spirit. It is the endless wheel of your life, death, and rebirth.
II. Nonexistence is absolution, but not all are worthy of it. The weak in spirit succumb to Lethe, borne
back into the sunlit lands. The impure, who cling to their existence, condemn themselves to purgatorial
darkness.
III. The makers of the universe committed the first sin, but some among them seek atonement. The
enlightened Neverborn willingly bear the agony of existence to guide all souls into nonexistence.
IV. The merciful Neverborn sent forth their servant, the Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible, to teach the
gospel of oblivion to the living and the dead, the Shining Way to transcendence.
V. Those who walk the Shining Way shall know neither Lethe nor the sunless realm, for the Bishop shall
devour their souls. When at last his labors have ended and he returns to oblivion, all shall come with him
and know peace.
These are the opening verses of the Tome of Endless Night, the sacred text of the Shining Way. It is a
shifting, changing doctrine, for in the centuries since he first authored it, the Bishop has rewritten much of
it. It has spread far throughout the Northwest’s shadowlands, for it is not a single cult, but an abundance
of faiths with myriad syncretisms, folk beliefs, and heresies. Its adherents have a flourishing culture of
letters, penning all manner of exegeses, critiques, and apologia of the Tome of Endless Night, as well as
hymns, psalms, epistles, allegories, and apocryphal texts on the nature of death.
The Bishop is both the Shining Way’s devouring savior and its grand hierophant. Aspirants seek him in
his Hidden Tabernacle, performing austerities and acts of devotion in hopes that he will devour their
souls, and he grants this sacrament generously. His ghostly corpus is bloated with thousands of souls,
making him mighty even among his fellow Deathlords. He thinks himself better than he is: His
compassion and temperance are real, but not so great as he likes to think. He devoutly follows the
doctrine he has penned — and revised — but refuses to recognize when he errs or falters. Even the
greatest of his atrocities is still virtuous in his eyes, for his every act is holy.
The Bishop most often assumes the form of a blind, elderly ascetic clad in humble gray robes. His smile
is warm and his manner is kind, radiating compassion for all things. When he receives envoys from his
fellow Deathlords or other ghostly princes, he dons regalia worthy of the Shining Way’s savior: his
jeweled miter of soulsteel, vestments of black and violet silk, and black jade crozier of spiritual authority.
When enraged, his pleasant guises fall away to reveal his aspect as a monstrous, rotting corpse-beast. His
face twists into a tortured visage, fanged and many-eyed, while his arms grow swollen, bursting open to
reveal even more grasping limbs.
The Bishop is a master of oratory, literature, and philosophy, and is among the greatest necromancers of
the Deathlords, having mastered the Void Circle. His discipline and self-restraint are legendary, though
their true magnitude is revealed only when he abandons them. He’s also the greatest martial artist among
the Deathlords; in his meditations upon nonexistence, he has created the Albicant Sepulcher of Extinction
style, a Sidereal Martial Art that is the embodiment of the Shining Way’s theology. Such an attainment is
thought impossible by any save the Sidereal Exalted; Heaven will tremble when it learns what the Bishop
has achieved.

Agenda
The Bishop is fanatical in his devotion to the Neverborn. While all Deathlords have sworn to the world’s
destruction, the Bishop is among the few actually committed to this goal. Once he’s consumed the souls
of all the living and the dead, he reasons, he will have power enough to complete the work of ending the
world: shattering the continents and boiling the seas, quenching the lights of the firmament, and releasing
the Neverborn from their long penance. Then and only then shall he permit himself oblivion,
extinguishing the souls of all things.
But what the Bishop does not realize, what he refuses to realize, is that he fears oblivion. His piety and
devotion to the Neverborn are sincere, but they are not perfect. Perhaps this flaw in his conviction
subconsciously guided his hand when he wrote his doctrine, providing himself a veritable eternity before
he need confront the world’s end. There are still millennia left before the great devouring will be
complete, by the Bishop’s reckoning; why concern himself now with what comes after? But if one of his
deathknights were to learn of this weakness, they might find themselves forced to choose between their
faith and their liege.

Deathknights
The Bishop desires his Abyssal’s piety and faith, counseling them in theological matters and inviting
them into his personal library, home to countless translations and revisions of the Tome of Endless Night
and copies of nearly every text the Bishop’s doctrine has ever inspired. He would have them be his saints
of the Shining Way, hastening Creation’s end just as loyally as their liege.
The Bishop’s wrath is inflamed when his deathknights refuse to heed his wisdom or blaspheme against it,
yet he holds it in check. He knows the futility of indoctrinating the Exalted by force; his wayward
deathknights must find the way to the truth in their own time. Young Abyssals still given to sympathy for
the living are given tasks and quests throughout the lands where the Shining Way is followed, showing
them the faith as it is to those who practice it.

The Hidden Tabernacle

The vast shadowland known as the Silent Meadow of Dust lies in the far Northwest, a place of cold
steppes where nothing grows. A golden mastaba rises from the blighted earth, ringed by countless pillars
of misshapen stone. Here and there the corpse of a mortal postulant can be seen; only by dying on this
holy ground can they hope to enter the Hidden Tabernacle, the holy seat of the Bishop.
But this is only the footstep of the Tabernacle. The vast tomb-manse extends deep into the earth, filled
with cavernous cathedrals lit with eerie green flame, great libraries where ghostly acolytes study and
debate, and meditation gardens of Underworld flora.
The Hidden Tabernacle is the poisoned heart of the Shining Way, a viper’s den of spectral cardinals,
archdeacons, and theologians endlessly vying for political power and favor in the Deathlord’s eyes.
Rulers of the Silent Meadow’s shadowland kingdoms align themselves with vying factions within the
Tabernacle, using theological disputes as a pretext to attack their neighbors or launching bloody crusades
to prove their zeal.
The ranks of the Hidden Tabernacle’s ecclesiastical hierarchy are dominated by the dead, but at times, the
Bishop chooses champions from among the ranks of pious mortals as his pyreflame apostles. The Bishop
baptizes their souls in the Underworld’s sickly green flame, consecrating them as holy martyrs of the
Shining Way. A pyreflame apostle might loose death’s flame to scourge even the gods or draw on its
power to stand against a Dragon-Blooded warrior, but their power consumes them, burning away their
passions, their flesh, and in time, their soul.

Following the Shining Way

In a village on the Northwestern steppes, a farmer curses the chill that nips at her as she goes out before
sunrise to tend her yak, damning the cold to Lethe. It’s the new moon, when the village makes its
offerings to the ancestral dead; she’s entrusted her oldest daughter with bringing the basket of butter and
cheese to the communal firepit. She feels a fleeting worry — it’s the first time she’s given her daughter
this responsibility — but pushes it from her mind, absentmindedly running her fingers along the
scrimshaw rosary wrapped around her wrist for its familiar comfort. Her daughter will do perfectly, and
they’ll pray together to the Bishop that all their ancestors might find the way to his salvation.
The Shining Way was created by an immortal ghost-king sworn to end the world, but it’s defined by those
who follow it. They are, by and large, not murderers, necromancers, or whisper-wracked specters, but
ordinary folk, dead or alive. Beyond the Silent Meadow, the bleak eschatology and bloody infighting of
the Bishop’s spectral priesthood gives way to a great diversity of traditions, often incorporating or
incorporated into existing spiritual practices. In Kal-Ebethi mystery plays, he is a sacred guardian of the
ancestral dead. Chrymosan seafarers speak of him in hushed voices, identifying him with the devouring
depths of the Underworld seas they ply. Abhari heretics exiled in the Ivory Schism worship him as their
proscribed sect’s prophet reborn, come to wreak holy vengeance against Fajad’s orthodoxy.
Apart from the Shining Way’s core doctrine, beliefs vary widely from tradition to tradition, which has at
time led to conflict and warfare. The oldest teach that pilgrimage to the Hidden Tabernacle is the only
path to salvation, but many younger traditions believe that the Bishop passes judgment on all who die, no
matter where they fall. While most believe they must free themselves of all worldly desire to be found
worthy, beginning with the smallest desires and ending with life itself, others believe the Deathlord seeks
out different virtues in his faithful, like the compassion, temperance, and righteous wrath attributed to him
in legends and folktales.
The Bishop doesn’t suppress heterodoxy, so long as traditions don’t stray from his core doctrine. Even
those who don’t practice the final pilgrimage to the Hidden Tabernacle — and thus offer no souls for the
Bishop to devour — are left undisturbed, a mercy perhaps motivated by the Deathlord’s desire to
postpone the apocalypse or the fact that he does not see the Tome of Endless Night as perfect or finished.
Folk religions, syncretisms, and even heresy are how the Shining Way’s adherents contribute to this
eternal work of refining and perfecting the faith’s dogma, and the Deathlord takes interest in their efforts.
He might send deathknights to new or distant communities that follow the Way so they can study the
local tradition and gather its texts and teachings for the Bishop’s edification, and to seek out and correct
deviations from vital doctrine.
The creation of the Abyssals has sparked interest among many adherents of the Shining Way. Some see
them as his prophets and champions, sent forth to guide and defend the faithful and usher in a Shining
Age. Others view them as judges, vengeful furies, or sanctioned destroyers, figures of unholy dread come
to enact the Bishop’s wrath against the unrighteous. At the Bishop’s behest, they might be any of these. In
most communities, the Bishop’s Abyssals can expect to be greeted as an honored gift, given the finest
lodgings, comforts, and repast their hosts can provide. Their words are heeded as holy pronouncements —
though not unthinkingly, for even the Bishop and his greatest prophets are not infallible.

Allies and Enemies

The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears and the Bishop have long been rivals. Their feud arose from a
contentious philosophical debate, but the specifics no longer matter; their impassioned enmity has become
an end unto itself. They endlessly plot to thwart each other’s schemes, using their deathknights and other
agents as infiltrators, saboteurs, and occasionally assassins.
The Wanasaan, a family of Dragon-Blooded sorcerer-exorcists, are among the greatest enemies of the
undead in the Northwest, and have proven themselves enemies of the Bishop many times over. They have
little knowledge of the Deathlord, and many believe him little more than a myth of the Shining Way. Glad
of this obscurity, the Bishop has long avoided acting openly against the Wanasaan, though his agents
scheme to undermine the exorcist family.

Notable Followers
Born into a small village in the Silent Meadow, the Celebrant of Blood grew up immersed in the Shining
Way. She was scarcely past adolescence when she made her final pilgrimage to the Hidden Tabernacle,
seeking release from the depths of depression. Impressed by her zeal, the Bishop promised that she’d one
day know oblivion’s succor, but that she would first know greatness as a saint to death. The Daybreak
Caste is among her liege’s most faithful deathknights, as skilled an evangelist as she is a necromancer.
Yet she’s still parochial in her understanding of the Shining Way, often shocked by differences in beliefs
and practices across the many lands where the faith holds sway — even to the point of holding impromptu
inquisitions to root out what she deems intolerable heresies.
In life, the Harbinger of the Ghost-Cold Wind was a Haslan shaman, an interpreter of dreams and
intermediary to his clan’s ancestral ghosts. As an Abyssal, he still serves his people’s dead, defending
them from agents of other Deathlords and speaking their will to the living across the Haslanti League. The
Harbinger laid down his life protecting the tomb of his clan’s heroic ancestor from desecration, and gladly
accepted the Bishop’s offer to take his revenge. But while he’s pledged obedience to his Deathlord, the
Moonshadow Caste refuses to recant his people’s traditions and espouse the Shining Way. Much as this
frustrates the Bishop, he permits the Harbinger his folly. The deathknight has become well-loved by the
Haslanti League’s dead, and may one day prove useful to the Deathlord’s goals.
Severed Limb’s Discretion rules Ikh Bayan, one of the Silent Meadow’s many petty princedoms, a
ruthless ghost-prince whose professed devotion to the Shining Way is purely political. Decades ago, they
lost much of their kingdom’s territories to neighboring rivals in a protracted war sparked by a schism in
the Hidden Tabernacle’s ecclesiastical hierarchy. Obsessed with reclaiming these holdings, the specter
now conspires with agents of the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears, seeking to frame those rival princes
for treasonous complicity with the Bishop’s most hated rival among the Deathlords.
Once an Immaculate monk, the heretic Pyre’s Shadow is now the longest-lived of the Bishop’s
pyreflame apostles, emulating Hesiesh’s example of restraint. Pyre’s Shadow preaches that, just as the
Elemental Dragon of Fire incarnated among the living as Hesiesh, so too did he incarnate among the dead
as the Bishop. At the Deathlord’s bidding, the apostle spies on the Realm’s Northwestern satrapies, easily
passing himself off as just another monk. When a satrapy’s Dragon-Blooded raise Wyld Hunts against the
Bishop’s agents, Pyre’s Shadow must abandon his restraint, burning away his soul to stand against them.

The Black Heron

Elegant, sad-eyed, and graceful, the Black Heron holds court in Stygia under another title: the Princess
Magnificent with Lips of Coral and Robes of Black Feathers. Such a title better suits the cultured, jovial
queen-in-exile who is the patron of the necropolis’ most lively festivals, salons, and public entertainment.
Ghostly courtiers seek her favor, while lovesick phantoms pine for her. Of all the Signatories of the
Stygian Pact, hers is the greatest foothold in the city’s heart.
But the Princess Magnificent is a lie, one carefully constructed long before her death. The Black Heron is
the truth, once one of the First Age’s greatest spies and assassins. Sad eyes mask her killing intent.
Flowing sleeves and dainty petticoats conceal an arsenal of blades and poisons. The riotous festivals of
color and music she sponsors celebrate the deaths of her victims. Though there are many great warriors
among the Deathlord, there are none who smile so wide or laugh so joyously as the Heron in slaughter.
In her guise as the Princess Magnificent, the Deathlord takes on a frail-limbed form of unearthly beauty,
donning exquisite black-pinioned robes and a soulsteel coronet. When she casts aside this masquerade,
the Heron returns to the semblance she had in life, still bearing every scar and imperfection, and clads
herself in a soulsteel helm in the shape of a heron’s head and an armored mantle of black feathers.
Some of the Heron’s victims are selected for assassination with the utmost care — political rivals, agents
of rival powers, innocents who unwittingly pose an obstacle for her plans. Others catch the Heron’s
attention for trivial reasons — an interesting name, a slight resemblance to a former victim, failing to
laugh at one of her jests. She obsesses over such victims, secretly observing them until she knows every
detail of the life she’s about to end.
The Heron brings a colorful parasol, hung with thirteen tiny bells, wherever she goes. Few realize that it’s
among her greatest weapons, the Symphony of Discord: a razor parasol fashioned from the skin and
bones of a Solar who escaped the Jade Prison, but not the Heron. She also wields the Rapine Blades,
seven flying knives of soulsteel and white bone, each forged from a legendary hungry ghost and still
possessed by its malevolent intelligence.
As an assassin, the Heron’s skill in both stealth and battle is legendary. And though the graceful Princess
Magnificent may be a lie, the Heron’s prowess as a courtier isn’t. She’s versed in the languages,
etiquette, and culture of countless civilizations — living, dead, and undead. She has little talent for
necromancy, having mastered only the Ivory Circle. She’s long made up for this weakness by trading
favors, but now has her own Abyssal necromancers to turn to.

Agenda
Vengeance weighs heavily on the Heron’s mind. Once, she reigned from the House of Bitter Reflections,
a palace of obsidian mirrors in the shadowland known as the Field of Endless Raitons. It was there that
the patron gods of Great Forks bested her, dealing her a devastating defeat. Though the gods’ power paled
in comparison to the Heron’s, they had discovered the secret weakness by which she might be slain
forever — or at least convinced her that they had. The Deathlord retreated, leaving her dominion ripe for
the taking by neighboring Underworld powers.
The Heron has spent the centuries since rebuilding, but she’s yet to reclaim the heights of her power. In
truth, her defeat weighs heavier on her than she admits. She refrained from claiming another shadowland
dominion, fearful that another champion of the living might uncover her secret weakness, and has avoided
the Scavenger Lands altogether. But with the Abyssal Exalted, things have changed. Flanked by an honor
guard of deathknights, the Heron might one day stride into the palace-sanctum of Great Forks’ gods to
claim her revenge.
The Heron’s retreat has not changed her overarching goal: to spread such terror among the living that they
will willingly subjugate themselves to her in death. While she might enjoy mass murder, she takes far
greater pleasure in her victim’s absolute surrender to their fear. She murders heroes and leaders of the
living, unleashes spectral assassins to plunge cities into mass panic, and deploys small bands of ghostly
riders on terror raids through shadowlands. She espouses little reverence for the Neverborn, but death’s
chivalry is seemingly second nature to her, as if her every whim aligned with the Neverborn’s will.

Deathknights
All Deathlords prize their Chosen, but the Heron more than most, for they’re her greatest hope of
reclaiming her lost power and prominence. She goes to almost excessive lengths to secure their loyalty,
studying their needs and desires with the same nigh-obsessive scrutiny she gives her victims. Her
deathknights are fêted and celebrated with parades and festivals as often as they care to be; all the
splendors and vices of Stygia are theirs if they so choose. Most Deathlords could survive a single
defection or betrayal, much as it might cost them, but such a loss would take more than the Heron can
afford.
Sowing fear remains the Heron’s foremost goal as ever. She gives her deathknights great license in their
choice of methods. She also dispatches them to secure assets, allies, and territory necessary to rebuilding
her power, to stymy the efforts of her political rivals, and to win favor from ghostly cities and kingdoms
through grand festivals or courtly intrigue. The Deathlord’s cautious in deploying her deathknights,
preferring to do so only when she’s confident in the quality of her ghostly spies’ on-the-ground
intelligence. She can’t always afford this luxury, but shows more restraint than her peers.
For all the Heron can offer her deathknights within her Stygian dominion, she can’t imprison them there.
Loathe as she is to do so, letting her Chosen pursue their own goals and attend to personal affairs is
necessary to maintain their loyalty — though such deathknights might be trailed by the Heron’s spectral
servants to protect and retrieve them should they find themselves outmatched.
The Heron offers her Abyssals tutelage in stealth, subterfuge, and courtly graces. For those whose skills
or ambitions lie elsewhere, she retains ghostly teachers and experts from Stygia and beyond. She teaches
them little of the Neverborn or death’s chivalry, though her deathknights need only follow her example to
serve the dead titans’ will.

The Quarter Magnificent

After the Dual Monarchs’ surrender to the Signatories of the Stygian Pact, the Heron claimed one of the
necropolis’ sixteen districts for herself, having assassinated and replaced its regent during the city’s siege.
The Quarter Magnificent makes up far less than a full fourth of the city, but its name reflects its outsized
role in Stygia’s public life. Even when it’s not consumed by raucous carnivals and celebrations, the
Quarter distinguishes itself from its neighbors by the vibrant colors that permeate its art, architecture, and
fashion and the street musicians that play on every corner. This profusion spills out into surrounding
districts come festival time, to the disdain of some and the delight of others.
The Heron resides in the palazzo-manse known as the House of Black and White, a sobriquet that’s long
since become a misnomer. Here, the Deathlord presides over her spectral court of killers. Her
deathknights are opulently accommodated here: bathhouse pools heated by eerie pyreflame and staffed by
ghostly attendants, lush gardens of poisonous flowers, and libraries in which the ghosts of poets and
authors are bound into tomes that they might write forevermore.
Since the Heron took control of the Quarter, theaters, teahouses, ateliers, galleries, and bawdyhouses have
relocated en masse to it, catering to the ghosts drawn in by the district’s enticing revelry. The Deathlord
makes a show of visiting each such establishment and encourages her deathknights to do the same,
solidifying her political support from the district’s petty merchantry and any friends in high places they
may have. An Abyssal might take in a salacious matinee at the Ever-Sunken Amphitheater, restock his
wardrobe with fine funereal garb from across Creation as he wanders the stalls of the Moth Market, and
drink himself into a stupor at the Dead Dog Pagoda, all in the course of a day’s service to the Heron.

Allies and Enemies

In the aftermath of the Heron’s defeat at Great Forks, the First and Forsaken Lion has become her
greatest ally among the Signatories, willing to provide her with materiel, political support, and access to
their shadowland holdings for promises of future repayment. The Heron loathes her debt to them, though
their apparent confidence in her success has won the Deathlord some measure of her favor. The Heron has
occasionally sent her deathknights to assist the Lion’s, satisfying her obligations to them one by one,
though it pains her dearly to take such risks. She’s far happier to arrange the Lion’s military parades and
triumphal processions in Stygia, though the Deathlord gives them little credit for such assistance.
The Heron has courted the Walker in Darkness as an ally, hoping to use his Company of Martial Sinners
as a cat’s paw against Great Forks, but she’s made little progress. The Walker admires her seemingly
instinctive service to the Neverborn, but not enough to tip the scales for the Heron’s meager offers. But as
she and her deathknights amass further riches and political cache, she may be able to win him over.
The patron gods of Great Forks — Spinner of Glorious Tales, Weaver of Dreams of Victory, and
Shield of a Different Day — have incurred the Heron’s eternal enmity. She’s yet to send her
deathknights against Great Forks directly; even their Exalted might would be tested by the city’s
countless spirits and its Exigent champions. When she makes her move against Great Forks, her victory
must be decisive and assured. It’s lucky that her enemies are immortal, affording the Heron ample time to
rebuild her forces and train her deathknights.
The Heron is still remembered in the Scavenger Lands. Ancestor cults revere her for bringing joy and
revelry to the dead, unaware of her true nature, while societies of assassins secretly venerate her as their
patron. Some hired killers of Nexus’ Invisible Lodge believe that she is their syndicate’s unknown leader
and devote each life they end to her. The Heron’s entirely unaware of this, having not yet rebuilt her
Scavenger Lands spy networks.

Notable Followers
The Heron has entrusted much of the Quarter Magnificent’s governance to the Son of Crows, once
nothing more than a traveling actor. Most important among his official duties is arranging the carnivals,
parades, and galas that the Quarter’s famous for, a role that satisfies his desire for public adoration and
acclaim. At times, he’s called away from Stygia on diplomatic matters, whether attending another
Deathlord’s court as an envoy or negotiating terms of surrender for cities terrorized by the Heron. These
duties leave ample room for leisure, taking in Stygia’s fashion, poetry, and theater.
All Clad in Tatters Came the Mountebank Knight is the Heron’s spy in the houses of the other
Deathlords. Almost unnervingly serene, the Day Caste takes seriously their duty to the one who saved
them from death’s door, insinuating themselves among the retinue of her rivals for as long as she requires.
They pass themself off as an Abyssal in a different Deathlord’s service, a ghostly prince, or an
ambassador from a kingdom of the living, winning the trust of the Deathlord’s advisors, agents, and
deathknights. But such is their composure that even the Heron couldn’t see their fatal flaw — the
Mountebank is ruled by their heart in matters of romance, a liability that could see them turned as a
double agent.
Sinews Spun Upon the Loom serves as the Princess Magnificent’s bodyguard and the Black Heron’s
hunting hound. His perfumed veils and jeweled finery conceal the countless soulsteel daggers sheathed
within his own ghostly flesh. The Heron esteems him as highly as her own deathknights, trusting none
save him to select her victims for her. Sinews’ loyalty is beyond reproach, but he’s at times frustrated by
his lady’s delight in purposeless violence. If he thinks a victim might distract the Heron from some crucial
matter, the nephwrack may kill the unfortunate himself rather than reporting back.
Lady Shapeblighter is a master moliator, a ghost skilled in reshaping and transforming the phantasmal
forms of others. She’s sets herself apart from the Quarter’s competition with her work’s incredible detail
and precision, and with the less-than-legal services she offers to fugitives seeking to throw off a tail,
charlatans scheming to “borrow” another’s identity, or debtors starting a new life. The Heron’s court has
long made use of the Lady’s services, and she regards the Deathlord with an aunt-like fondness. While
her gifts are of no use to deathknights, she’s a font of information on goings-on in the Quarter, Stygia’s
criminal underworld, and the personal intrigues of the Heron’s courtiers. Such information isn’t cheap,
though young Abyssals may receive a few pointers on the house. After that, they might have to sabotage a
rival’s business, lend her their influence in district politics, or retrieve ancient treatises on moliation.

The Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils

Each of the Deathlords has vowed to end all things. Only one has come within reach. The Dowager
engineered the Great Contagion, nearly wiping out all life on Creation. While she may not have
succeeded fully, she’s dealt the world of the living a blow from which it may never recover.
The Dowager wears three aspects. As witch, she’s a ghoulish beldam, clad in rotting pelts and black silk
veils. She wears a crown of azure-blue jade, while her skin is painted with red and ochre. As huntress,
she’s a woman of great stature, sharp-fanged and yellow-eyed. As her most monstrous aspect, she’s a
bestial giant of rotting flesh, with feline features and great serpents in place of fingers. No matter what
shape she wears, she always bears a ram’s horns and cloven hooves.
The Dowager has mastered necromancy’s Void Circle, and knows much of disease, herbalism, geomancy,
and prophecy. She’s deadly in the hunt, wielding the soulsteel longbow Root of Scorn and tracking even
the most elusive prey through her shadowland’s mire. Her voice withers souls, capable of slaying mortals
with a mere whisper. But her greatest power may be her mastery of the Well of Udr, a vessel of
unimaginable power older than the gods.
Soon after becoming a Deathlord, the Dowager discovered a prehuman temple-manse submerged beneath
the Noss Fens, a vast Northeastern shadowland. She desecrated its sacred geomancy and rechristened as
the Mound of Forsaken Seeds, and studied the secrets left by its forgotten makers. Chief among them is
the Well of Udr, a cauldron of rough-worked stone etched with mysterious runes, towering high enough
that the Dowager must don her monstrous aspect to gaze into its depths. Within it lies an endless,
unknown void, opened eons past by the long-dead race. The Dowager still doesn’t understand it fully, but
she learned much from her study of its mysteries and the moldering tomes left behind by its creators.

Bringer of the End

Thinking to test her mastery of the Well’s power, the Dowager infiltrated Stygia to hunt its Dual
Monarchs, long before the Stygian Pact’s conquest of the necropolis. But the Deathlord underestimated
her quarry. The ancient ghost-kings invoked a terrible, soul-destroying power, turning the great Calendar
of Setesh into a weapon against her. She was not seen for seven years, during which the Underworld’s
seasons turned fetid and pestilent.
Then, the Dowager emerged, remade within the nightmares of the Neverborn. No Deathlord had yet faced
annihilation, and her peers gladdened by this proof of their promised immortality — but soon, they
discovered the awful truth. Not all of the Dowager had returned: gone were her political ambitions, her
heated rivalries with fellow Deathlords, her mocking humor. All that remains of the Dowager today is a
servant of the Neverborn, a monstrous god of death unfettered by any trace of humanity.
The Dowager soon returned to the Well of Udr, spending most of her days scrying its depths in a nigh-
solipsistic fugue. At times, when the visions it reveals placate her, she shapes worlds no larger than a dust
mote within the Well, half-real microcosms whose infinitesimal denizens live and die for her pleasure. At
other times, she glimpses things that disturb her, things that are displeasing to the Neverborn or remind
her of Creation. Enraged, she crushes the universes she’s made in the palm of her hand, channeling the
dying screams of countless worlds to draw grotesque nightmares and world-blighting curses forth from
the Well.
At first, the Dowager’s peers thought she had been lost to their cause, reduced to a wretched husk of a
once-great Deathlord. In time, they would learn their folly. One night, as Calibration fell upon Creation,
the Dowager glimpsed something that revived the long-forgotten memory of her own first death. In an
instant of awful clarity, she remembered everything — her life, Creation, her bloody end in the
Usurpation. It was then that she saw the Great Contagion festering within the Well’s uttermost depths,
and summoned forth Creation’s long-due reckoning.
In a single stroke, the Dowager claimed more lives than all her fellow Deathlords combined. Creation was
left on the precipice of destruction, wounded and vulnerable as the princes of chaos marched on its
borders. The Underworld was cast into upheaval by the flood of ghosts slain by the Contagion,
overwhelming the Calendar of Setesh and unleashed a Grand Tempest that wracked the sunless lands.
The Great Contagion may not have wiped out all life, but not even the most impudent of Deathlords
would dare call it a favor. All save the most fanatical of their ranks look on the Dowager with redoubled
dread, disquieted by just how close she came to success.
Agenda
Alone among the Deathlords, the Dowager truly wishes to see the world destroyed. Any conflicting
agendas or ulterior motives were flensed from her when the Neverborn remade her. She’s solitary in her
scheming, having come to despise collaboration with her fellow Deathlords. She scorns their Stygian
politicking especially, dismissing it as a diversion from their true goal.
The Great Contagion is come and gone, and the Dowager does not seek to recreate her past successes.
Perhaps she might find another doom to equal it within the Well’s depths, but the search might take
centuries, if not millennia. Instead, she unleashes a ceaseless tide of nightmarish beasts, shambling
horrors, and pestilential curses against the world. Such efforts may seem modest, but she is patient and
persistent enough to kill Creation by inches.
A part of the Dowager fears her own end, but her devotion remains unwavering. She believes she’s found
an escape, for in studying the Well, she’s learned much that’s unknown to the other Deathlords. She’s
learned of worlds beyond this one, and knows that the Well leads somewhere. When Creation lies in ash
and the Neverborn at last know oblivion, the Dowager may yet survive to find her freedom.

Deathknights
The Dowager is an inconstant liege. She spends much of the time in a fugue-like reverie, speaking to her
Chosen only in inscrutable prophecies and gnomic pronouncements. While such utterances are never
meaningless, even the wisest of her Abyssals often struggle to decipher them. When the Dowager stirs
from her fugue, she has much to say to her deathknights. She speaks at length of the Neverborn, their
desires, and their torments, describing the horror of their existence as if she had experienced it herself.
She is often unnervingly calm, for she knows the Neverborn’s triumph is inevitable. But should her
Abyssals ride alongside her when she hunts, they bear witness to a pitiless thing of hatred and hunger,
disdaining speech for bestial snarls.
Even when the Dowager’s Abyssals can understand her cryptic demands, she knows the least of the
Creation by far among her peers. At times, she forgets that the world of the living is anything more than a
speck of her own making, and assumes that it follows the laws of her nightmarish whims. It is as a matter
of necessity, then, that her deathknights take considerable initiative in interpreting her orders and
proactively serving her will — far more than other Deathlords’ Abyssals. So long as the final outcome
serves the Neverborn’s will, the Dowager is rarely displeased, though it may well go unnoticed entirely.
At times, the Dowager’s deathknights must stand against the horrors that their mistress has unleashed.
When her beasts of pain and fear prey on her own cultists, when her curses go awry, when her unleashed
nightmares draw the ire of Underworld enemies, it falls to her Chosen to hunt them down and set things
right. At least, that’s what her deathknights have decided. Lacking a liege’s guidance, the Dowager’s
Abyssals largely turn to each other to decide how best to serve her.
The Dowager eagerly shares her vast knowledge with her deathknights, even in the grips of delirium.
Those who solve her riddling words and meditate on her paradoxical pronouncements learn much of
necromancy, geomancy, and other fields of knowledge that the Deathlord has mastered. Those seeking
instruction in archery or tracking receive it firsthand, joining the Dowager in her hunt.
The Dowager speaks often of death’s chivalry, teaching that they are ironclad laws of existence,
unbending and unbreakable. Service to the Neverborn is not a choice for those who’ve sworn themselves
to damnation. She’s yet to share her final plan for the Well of Udr with any of her deathknights, but
should one of them stray from the Neverborn’s cause, she might reveal in a bid to win them back to the
flock.
Hunting Grounds
No one is safe in the Noss Fens. Mortal travelers passing through it are rarely seen again, and even gods
fear to tread. The eerie bog is shaded by willows, manicheels, and tremendous banyans, their limbs
overgrown with black moss. A stagnant, putrid scent fills the air, for every plant that grows here is
undead, finding no sustenance in the shadowland’s corrupted waters. The fens have little wildlife, though
it’s not uncommon to find an animal’s corpse floating stone-still in the mire — at least, until it becomes a
meal for one of the shadowland’s denizens, living or dead.
By night, the dead emerge to hunt the living. They number in the tens of thousands, grotesque
abominations shaped from the flesh of both human and beast. Some of the horrors unleashed by the
Dowager lair in the swampland as well, preying upon the living and the dead like. When the stars are
right, the Deathlord joins in the hunt, slaking her bloodlust and offering sacrifices unto the Neverborn.
The Dowager’s citadel, the Mound of Forsaken Seeds, lies at the Noss Fens’ heart. Much of the strangely-
angled ziggurat lies submerged beneath endless layers of peat and rot — from the outside, it seems
nothing more than a large burial mound. It was once a holy place, but the Dowager has corrupted its
sacred geomancy into a monument to her and Neverborn’s glory. Here and there, remnants of its makers
can still be found: age-worn idols of forgotten gods, mosaics depicting long-forgotten histories, the ruined
tombs of prehuman kings.
The Mound is filled with winding corridors and spiraling passageways, leading to decay-ridden chambers
adorned with trophies of the Dowager’s hunts and tapestries of woven soulsteel. Anyone foolish enough
to trespass is unlikely to escape with their lives, even if they avoid the temple’s mistress, for the Mound is
stalked by ravenous corpse-beasts, nightmares beyond number, and things that lurked here long before the
Dowager came. Some chambers and hallways are filled with smoke, dust, and unbearable heat, twisted
elemental corruptions of the Mound’s puissant geomancy.
The Well of Udr lies at the Mound’s center. The Dowager has made its chamber her throne room, by vast
shrouds of spiderwebs and soul-shattering necromantic wards. Even her deathknights must struggle not to
recoil in its presence, assailed with disorienting vertigo and a sense of cold unease. It is here that she is
most often found, seeking new horrors within the Well’s darkness.

The Corpse-Flower Coven

At times, those traveling too near the Noss Fens in Creation begin to hear sibilant murmuring, too quiet to
be understood, and dream of a well that will be their death. In time, this corruption metastasizes into
something akin to the Neverborn’s mind-warping whispers — but the voice that speaks is the Dowager’s.
Called to the Noss Fenns, these pilgrims are greeted by the Dowager’s cult, the Corpse-Flower Coven,
garlanded with vibrant, lifeless flowers and welcomed as family.
The coven’s mortal members dwell communally in stilt-raised villages at the shadowland’s edge, built to
weather flooding and keep beyond reach of the dead. The coven’s members strengthen body, mind, and
soul through bleak austerities, hoping that they may endure the Dowager’s soul-destroying just long
enough to understand some profound truth before they die. The ghosts of those who pass this test join the
Dowager’s priesthood. Their foremost duty is as scribes, recording her pronouncements, interpreting
them, and bringing them to the living coven.
Sometimes, a child of the coven is taken to the Mound. Raised from infancy until they come of age by the
ghost-priests, these sacred children hear the Dowager’s wisdom directly, somehow unscathed by her
baleful voice. They are taught the coven’s laws and traditions, returning to their villages as spiritual
leaders.
The Dowager is barely cognizant of the coven’s existence, and takes no part in leading it. If her priests
have misunderstood the meaning of her words, it falls beyond her notice. Many of her deathknights are
likewise bemused upon being declared a holy figure. While even her ghost-priests must shy back from her
dreaded voice, the Abyssals stand in her presence unscathed. The living seek out the Dowager’s Chosen
as direct envoys from the divine, while her ghostly priesthood schemes against this threat to their power.

Allies and Enemies

None among the Deathlords count the Dowager as an ally. Once, she was close with The Lover Clad in
the Raiment of Tears and The Walker of Darkness, brought together both by geography and shared
zeal for their cause, but neither can find anything of the Deathlord they once knew in the thing the
Dowager has become.
The Dual Monarchs have not forgotten the Dowager, but know nothing of her involvement in the Great
Contagion, nor even that she’s a Deathlord. Stygia’s rulers are too preoccupied dealing with their city’s
conquerors to oppose the Dowager’s faraway scheming, but they might warn other Underworld powers
who know little of the Deathlord if she were to threaten Stygia.

Notable Followers
Born into the Corpse-Flower Coven, the Shoat of the Mire longed to be chosen as a sacred child, but
was passed over by the ghost-priests time and again. In her thirteenth year, disconsolate with despair, she
fled from her village into the Noss Fens, and soon met a grisly end. The Shoat knows not why the
Dowager saw fit to save her, but she’s sworn to repay the life-debt she owes her liege. Unlike some of the
Dowager’s deathknights, the young Dusk Caste has embraced her role as the sacred child she never was,
an eager intermediary between the Dowager and the coven. But her acerbic tongue and teenaged
temperament are liabilities here, and she’s made many enemies among the ghost-priests.
Kindly and somber, the Menhir Raised in Doleful Silence seems out of place among the Dowager’s
deathknights, an avuncular figure who makes a methodical science of brewing tea. He seems far too
genial to be a mass murderer, a poisoner responsible for more than a dozen deaths. He doesn’t supply any
details, context, or justification when he reveals this, leaving his fellow Abyssals to wander at his past. He
takes a great interest in both the toxic and medicinal properties of the Noss Fens’ unliving flora,
performing strange alchemical experiments whose purpose remains secret.
Foremost among the Corpse-Flower Coven’s ghostly priesthood, the fanatical specter-saint Autumn’s
Mourn is a monstrous creature of holy wrath. He has stood closer to the Dowager than any shade before
him, and learned a forbidden path, piercing his corpus with needles made of soulsteel forged from
fragments of himself. The price of his newfound power has reduced his identity to tatters, but he’s no
longer capable of regret. He knows no empathy for the living coven, and regards the Abyssals warily,
fearing they’ll usurp his position as the Dowager’s divine guardian and most trusted scribe.
Centuries ago, gripped with fell rage, the Dowager unleashed Nha Kef-Tah from the Well of Udr, a
primeval nightmare of death by water. A hydra-like serpent of endlessly branching coils carved with
blasphemous sigils, the behemoth proved beyond even the Deathlord’s power to bind. It fled out of the
Noss Fens and into the Sea of Shadows, where it’s become a terror to seafarers. While the Dowager
scarcely remembers the Nha Kef-Tah, her coven venerates it as a divine beast of the end. In time, the
Dowager’s deathknights may connect the coven’s tales with reports of hazards at sea.

The Eye and Seven Despairs

Most visitors to Cold House see only glimpses of its withered Deathlord slumping from chamber to hall,
lipless mouth lost in recitation of lore or articulation of theory, tattered mantle and jittery assistants
trailing behind. When the Deathlord deigns to barter directly with the clients who come in search of
abhorrent weapons, they seem as if languishing in the physical pain of tedium.
The Eye and Seven Despairs at work is a truly different creature, for the Deathlord is revitalized by the
flames of curiosity and innovation. When truly obsessed, the Eye gains a vivid, appalling facsimile of life,
with eyes like copper gas lamps, curling hair the color of yellow bile, and flesh like blood smeared on
brass. Their gestures and expressions become grandiose, their words seething with alien genius. Their
unkempt, decaying raiment appears crisp and new: a floor-length coat of black hide treated with wax, a
pince-nez of bottle-green lenses, and a frightening array of soulsteel instruments strapped to quick-release
holsters.
A student of the unnatural world, the Eye gives great attention to their surroundings, finding inspiration in
the tiniest of details: the movement of a butterfly’s wing reveals a new way of connecting grafted undead
tissue; the Underworld’s strange starlight falling through their window inspires an artifact’s design; the
taste of a particular wine plants the seed of necromancies unimagined. These are moments of desperate
frenzy, for the Eye experiences boredom as agony. They frequently abandon whatever they might be
occupied with to pursue unexpected inspirations and escape the nightmare of ennui.
The Eye and Seven Despairs devotes themselves to research and innovation, whether stitching countless
variations on the same undead abomination or forging entire suites of ruinous weapons with minute but
crucial differences. They sell the perfected models of armaments, spells, and constructs for eye-watering
sums, caring little for who procures them or how the weapons are used — finished projects are only worth
the silver a bidder is willing to pay. Conversely, they delight in selling their experimental prototypes for a
pittance, demanding little more than detailed accounts of the prototype’s performance.
Ultimately, even all this treasure is only the means to an end. Staff manage their coffers with cold, brutal
efficiency, earmarking funds for more soulsteel and jade, more rations for Cold House expeditions, more
Creation-side vendors, more contractors, more facilities, more ghostpower. For there is little more
important to the Eye than the work they undertake themselves, work that is critical to what will become
their crowning achievement: the empirical observation, cataloging, and weaponization of the Neverborn
themselves.

Agenda
The Eye seeks not to serve the Neverborn but to understand them — and to use them. The Deathlord has
imagined countless possibilities, whether harvesting eldritch organs for world-killing weapons, forging
tomb-bodies into a legion of soulsteel colossi, or redefining the Old Laws from atop undying shoulders.
The multiplicity of their plans and their manic flitting from project to project has made the Eye a talented
improviser out of necessity; they are not committed to any single scheme, but to the sheer scope and
contours of their ambition: The Neverborn and Creation both gorgeously broken to their will.
For all their ennui, the Eye is patient, so long as they have plans and countermeasures to contrive.
Accordingly, they have spent centuries investing in contingencies should their experiments with the
Neverborn finally go too far — especially in the face of the Lion’s imprisonment in his soulsteel armor
and the Dowager’s warped return from her destruction. In secret warrens throughout the South, the
Deathlord caches weapons and reagents against some future need. Most of all, he seeks ways to buttress
his immortality should he have to reform himself. The hidden library of Oquze contains decades of
journals detailing their every thought, grand and trivial alike, and in the basalt vault known as the
Gravemind, they sometimes take counsel from a half-realized simulacrum of themselves, meant to
preserve a perfect (but currently woefully incomplete) copy of their identity against corrosion.
Deathknights
The Eye offers Exaltation only to those who offer considerable value to their research or — far more
often — pique their unpredictable and insatiable curiosity. The end result is that the Deathlord is often
narcissistically fond of their deathknights, delighting in their foibles and triumphs. Though they do not
see their Abyssals as peers — never would they see them as peers — the Eye collaborates and associates
in the way a distinguished academic would with favored pupils. The Eye places few if any restrictions on
their access to the Deathlord’s research and innovations, including prototype artifacts and experimental
necromantic spells.
In return, the Deathlord inflicts their ever-shifting moods upon their deathknights, expecting their
absolute indulgence. It is not uncommon for an Abyssal to waken in their chambers with the Deathlord
looming over them, waiting to explain their newest mission. Other times, the Eye demands exhaustive
postmortems of projects and missions, prodding their vassals to consider every possibility of how a quest
might have gone otherwise for good and ill alike.
Attempts to rescue the Eye from their darker moods are rewarded if successful, but this is rare — the
Deathlord’s strongest rebukes have always come to those deathknights and servants who try to spur them
to action during their worst melancholic fugues, saddling them with onerous and dangerous work out of
crude spite. Ambitious deathknights may find themselves given considerable latitude to serve in their
Deathlord’s stead during these episodes, knowing that any boundaries they overstep may be forgiven if
they can produce either tangible results or provocative theories.

Cold House
Hidden in a chill alpine valley in the Summer Mountains stands the Glade of Weeping Bones. Skeletal
trees grow from the shadowland’s sickly soil, dripping blood from pale crimson flowers. At the center is
Cold House, a megalithic manse hewn from blue-black stone before the dawn of history. Vast as it
appears, it is even larger within, filled with endlessly shifting corridors, rooms of inscrutable purpose, and
staircases that ascend and descend miles beyond reason.
Though common thought holds that the Eye is in control of Cold House, the Eye tests this constantly,
seething when they encounter the vestiges of the House’s many previous masters and their edicts still in
force. The reclaimed wings of Cold House play at a bleak habitability, with cavernous parlors, frigid
halls, and comfortless bedchambers. Venture deeper, and malevolence creeps to the fore. Explorers have
discovered caverns decorated in fine ebony and snake-shed, mile-long crawlspaces inhabited by corpse-
spiders with legs of wilted flowers, and libraries of blank books that bleed when opened. These deep
places are of greatest interest to the Eye and Seven Despairs, who orders regular expeditions to procure
interesting prodigies and finally locate the manse’s hearthstone chamber, whether Cold House permits it
or not.
Beyond the grounds of Cold House, the Eye and Seven Despairs rules over a small empire of trading
posts and caravanserai that skirt their valley and its surrounding climes. Brokers from feuding nations and
emissaries from warrior-clans travel hundreds of miles to secure weapons, their wagons heavy with silver,
jade, exotic resources, or corpses of academic interest. Particularly influential or intriguing buyers are
offered Cold House’s fraught hospitality; all others must make do with the network of brokers — living
and dead alike — who trade in the Eye’s unique wares.
The Eye’s investments in the Underworld seem at first to mirror those of Creation, selling weapons and
strange inventions to those with interesting ambitions or generous purses. Beyond this, the Eye and Seven
Despairs extracts unique goods from a number of afterlives they have loosely colonized. They are —
largely unknowingly — a tormenter figure in a dozen faiths across Creation based on stories that ghosts
relay to their ancestors cults about a mad-eyed savant with an arm of glass and bronze who terrorizes
ambitious shades with vivisection, dismemberment, and spiritual dissolution.

Allies and Enemies

The Eye categorizes all other beings as either useful or irrelevant — and as such they have few true allies
and even fewer peers. They especially criticize the Walker in Darkness for his conservatism and poor
imagination, and disparage the Black Heron as a creature of tedious melodrama. With the more martial
Deathlords, including the First and Forsaken Lion, it’s strictly business. The Eye and Seven Despairs
supplies formulas and blueprints, and loans powerful prototypes for distribution among their respective
armies. In exchange, the Eye receives data, eager research assistants, and unwilling test subjects.
Their partnership with the Mask of Winters is more complicated. The Eye’s initial obsession with him
and his necromantic siege-fortress, Juggernaut, compelled them to overcommit to supporting the Mask’s
campaign in Thorns, contributing bespoke necro-creations and expert personnel, including one of the
Eye’s favored deathknights — the Seven-Degreed Physician of Black Maladies. So impressed was the
Mask that he requested permission to take the Daybreak under full-time patronage. The Eye has yet to
make a formal reply, seething at the possibility that their pupil might prefer another master and knowing
that either answer loses them something — a Deathlord ally or a deathknight apprentice.
Though the Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils is a figure of terror and pity among the
Deathlords, the Eye is fascinated with her return and transformation. They pay handsomely for any first-
hand accounts of her degraded faculties and new idiosyncrasies. They believe the Dowager’s fugue state
could provide valuable insight into the Neverborn’s cognition.
Once, the shahan-ya Ül the Burning Eye sought to study and collaborate with the Eye. Fascinated by the
idea of mentoring a Lunar Exalt, the Eye agreed to share their innovations and findings. However, Ül took
more than his agreed-upon share from the Eyes’ codices and treasures from Cold House, and promptly
vanished into the southwest. Centuries later, the Eye is still fiercely aggrieved, extending their enmity to
all Chosen of Luna. The Eye’s deathknights are neither compelled nor ordered to share this prejudice, but
cannot invite a Lunar to Cold House without incurring their patron’s explosive displeasure.

Notable Followers
One of the Eye’s most cherished deathknights is the Seven-Degreed Physician of Black Maladies, a
necrotech prodigy and emissary to the Mask of Winters. The child of erudite Dynasts, discountenanced
and disinherited when his Exaltation never sparked, he was shuffled off to cousins in the far-off Empire of
Prasad and promptly forgotten. Rather than allow the peculiarities of Prasadi culture to impede his self-
guided “study” of anatomy, he dealt brisk business with Corporal grave robbers and murderers to satisfy
his demand for bodies. The Corporals were caught and executed, the anatomist executed by a vigilante
mob — and the Eye earned the fealty of a kindred spirit. The Physician relishes his work with the
Deathlord now that he is freed of petty concerns like “ethics” and “reverence of life,” but his recent
collaboration with the Mask of Winters and attendant deathknights has him wondering if he was too hasty
in accepting the first offer presented to him.
The River Which Finds the Riven Door was denied her due in life; when she was called to Rubylak to
prove her mastery of hunting, lore, and warfare, her family’s rivals arranged for particularly cruel and
perilous trials. The Eye came to her as she bled out at the bottom of a pit trap, recognizing her for her
many cunning expeditions into the ruins that dot the Silver River. As a Day Caste, she hides her face
behind an ebony otter-mask and leads a corps of bound ghosts, undead constructs, and ghost-blooded
scavengers, delving into First Age ruins and Labyrinth kingdoms at her Deathlord’s behest. She shares his
fascination with Cold House, keeping copious journals of her investigations that only infrequently gall the
Eye when she discovers some secret that had been denied to him. Her latest discovery is a semi-stable
passage to a Linowan ruin only days from Rubylak; she has not yet shared this fact with her Deathlord
despite its import, wrestling with how to best balance this opportunity to revenge with her vestiges of love
for those who were once her people.
The merchant-prince Jilas Winds-of-Hyacinth is one of the Eye’s mortal favorites, falling from their
grace only during the rare visits where she hasn’t brought a gift to match her previous tribute — most
recently, a pale-haired oracle who wanders the grounds of Cold House, uttering uncontrollable prophecies
and prayers to a star-touched father he knows not. She has grown wealthy even beyond the Guild’s
standards as one of the Eye’s foremost brokers, obfuscating her oversized cut of weapons sales from the
Eye and Guild alike. Nearing seventy, she seeks the Eye’s leave to retire, but the Deathlord refuses to
treat with any of her apprentices. Jilas knows that if she leaves without the Eye’s protection, the Guild’s
audit will uncover decades of deception, and so she remains year after year, tasked with finding ever-
escalating gifts. For a credible promise of protection, she could arrange a grand reception with the
Eye…or discrete passage into the depths of Cold House, secreted away in this year’s shipment of
curiosities.
Seneschal is a ghost ancient almost beyond reckoning. He is the steward of Cold House — its caretaker,
prisoner, conduit, pawn. In his tenure, he has served many masters who attempted to tame Cold House,
advising them on its perilous moods and overseeing the hundreds of ghosts who serve within its cursed
halls. His mind is wracked with the house’s ceaseless murmurations, and so he routinely unburdens
himself by breaking off decades of memory, forming them into semi-independent echoes who scurry the
house’s halls to manage his many affairs. He is long overdue for this rite but clings to his identity even as
his grip on reality deteriorates. Some say that the Eye has forbidden him to do so for fear of losing some
scrap of lore that Seneschal has acquired of late, while others speculate that Seneschal is enthralled to the
Eye as a true believer, pupil, or even admirer, and does not wish to risk losing those feelings. Whatever
the reason, Cold House’s grasp on Seneschal grows by the day; in this mania, he unleashes ever-greater
dangers from the manse’s depths, surveys the Eye’s deathknights for insight into their lord, and brokers
bargains of his own for exotic talismans and elixirs to fortify himself against his growing corruption.

The First and Forsaken Lion

They loom over the battlefield, armored head-to-toe in soul-forged steel and terror. With a single stroke of
their black blade, heroes are hewn into corpses and ghosts. Ten thousand war-ghosts march behind them,
soldiers in the greatest army the Underworld has ever known. This is the First and Forsaken Lion. Every
inch of their limbs and torso is covered by chain-draped plates of spiked armor, notched and scorched in
countless battles. A heavy black helm forever hides their face; all that can be made out beneath it is a
featureless darkness. The armor is pierced through by hundreds of soulsteel spikes that dig deep into the
Lion’s phantom corpus, imprisoning them in a cage of cursed metal. No other Deathlord can match their
conquests. No other Deathlord can match the depths of their despair.
The Lion is short and cruel in their speech, and they expect silent obedience when they give an order.
They’re easily roused to wrath, incensed by mere slips of the tongue or ill-phrased requests, let alone
insults or defiance. They hold their grudges dearly, having little more than hatred to occupy their ghostly
existence. Sometimes, their retribution is immediate, imprisoning the offender in their citadel’s depths or
cutting him down on the spot. With others, they bide their time, turning the full of their cunning and
calculation toward a suitably grisly retribution. It is only by dint of visible effort that they restrain
themself from such cruel treatment of their deathknights.
In their early days, the Lion was a charismatic, headstrong warleader. They exulted in battle, made sport
of dueling their generals, and scorned even the mention of defeat. As decades passed, they came to
believe themself beyond even the Neverborn. Each time one of their fellow Deathlords failed in their
mission and went unpunished, the Lion’s confidence grew, until they were certain that their fallen masters
were powerless to enforce the oath they’d sworn. Drunk on this invincibility, the Lion withdrew their
forces from Creation’s shadowlands and turned their efforts to the conquest of the Underworld. No longer
would their steel be wasted on the living when it could serve the Lion’s ambition instead.
For a time, it seemed the Lion’s folly would go unpunished. No warning preceded their punishment — it
was as if the Neverborn had roused halfway from their nightmares just long enough to witness a
moment’s disloyalty. Ten thousand talons of darkness dragged the Lion into the slain ancients’ dreams of
torment and retribution. The Lion was bound within their cursed armor like the dead titans in their tombs,
their body unraveled and remade by the Neverborn’s nightmarish whim. No Deathlord since has doubted
the consequences of defiance.
Gone is the Lion’s joy for battle, their camaraderie, their dauntless optimism. Hatred, anger, and paranoia
fill the void left behind. Their service to the Neverborn has been renewed, but any loyalty the Deathlord
may have once felt for their masters is long dead. The Lion heeds their masters’ will only for fear of
punishment, and only as much as they must.
The Lion is a paramount swordsman and general, as well as an erudite scholar of the Underworld’s secret
lore. They wield the soul-eating blade Varan’s Ruin, which howls with terrible hunger when drawn. The
skulls of the Stygia’s Seven Divine Counselors, ghostly seers and sages, hang from chains on their waist.
All but one have surrendered their wisdom to the Deathlord. At times, the Lion takes the field in his
warstrider, the Insidious Ebon Xoanon, a gruesome patchwork of soulsteel, flesh, and bone. His prized
flagship, the Eschaton-class aerial battle cruiser Final Maelstrom, was left drydocked for years after its
battle against the thousand-souled Beast of Lamentations, but its repairs near completion.

V aran’s R uin
An Exalted hero of the First Age, Varan fell in the Usurpation, but clung to
existence as a ghost. Undaunted by death, he wandered the Underworld’s wastes,
protecting the living from the horrors that poured through the countless
shadowlands opened in the Usurpation. He was sought out by spectral disciples
of the Neverborn and tempted with promises of dark power, but refused their
offer with the edge of his blade.
In time, Varan met the First and Forsaken Lion, who was not pleased at the sight
of the hero. After their battle’s end, the Lion hollowed out his soul and reforged
the hero’s blade with soulsteel smelted from Varan’s own ghost. When the
daiklave is drawn, what remains of Varan howls with monstrous hunger and
ancient pain.

Agenda
Centuries have passed, but the Lion’s aim remains unchanged: conquest. They dream of seeing every
corner of the Underworld broken and brought to heel by the Legion Sanguinary, of a sunless empire that
answers to a single master. In their early days as a Deathlord, the Lion’s wars were driven by boundless
ambition and bellicose fervor, glad of war and slaughter. Now, all that remains is grim resolution in
seeing them through to their end. When the final battle is won, when there is no more Underworld to
conquer, perhaps their dead heart will know something akin to pride once more.
The Lion’s martial ambitions have never extended into the world of the living. They share the
Neverborn’s contempt for Creation — a meaningless, transient world. It is bitter irony, then, that the
Neverborn have bade them slaughter the living. The Lion is scrupulous in this service, but has no
enthusiasm for it. Their token observances of death’s chivalry often serve their own ends as well. When
they deploy their forces through the shadowlands to march on Creation, they care more for the number of
ghosts conscripted from the victims than the despair and agony with which they died. As a result, the
Lion is an obscure figure to those in Creation, compared to the likes of the Mask of Winters or the Silver
Prince.
Since their punishment at the Neverborn’s hands, the Lion has turned increasingly to the study of the
Underworld’s secrets, entrusting more and more of their military operations to generals and now
deathknights. Perhaps their search is for a weapon, some ancient artifact or apocalyptic rite to tip the
Underworld’s balance of power. Perhaps they seek freedom from their curse, though few believe their
poisoned heart could harbor such hopes. Or perhaps they would be freed from the Neverborn, searching
for a way to either end their eternal suffering or to finally destroy them.

The Legion Sanguinary

The Underworld knows no fighting force greater than the Legion Sanguinary. So says the Lion, and none
have yet to prove them wrong. The Legion’s ranks are filled by war-ghosts bound in soulsteel armor,
spectral cavalry mounted on skeletal steeds, corpse-riding nemissary commandos, ghostly siege
engineers, and grotesque necromantic war-engines. Once a fanatical force united by the Lion’s
charismatic leadership and dreams of conquest, the Legion has changed greatly since their punishment by
the Neverborn. Today, it is fear, not loyalty, that drives the Legion Sanguinary to war.
The Legion is comprised of twelve armies, each divided into twelve companies. Each army is led by one
of the Lion’s generals, who commands the lieutenants overseeing the army’s companies. The
commanding generals are given great discretion in how they carry out their orders, though they ultimately
report to the Lion’s second-in-command, the General Diablerie of the Legion Sanguinary.
The Legion controls more of the Underworld than any ruler, though a number of territories were lost in
the years following the Lion’s punishment. It occupies more than a hundred afterlives, including much of
the southern Underworld, as well as the Lion’s holdings in the grand necropolis of Stygia and its
surrounding isles. The Lion doesn’t govern these holdings directly. Rather than forging an empire, the
Deathlord divides up conquered lands, assigning a trusted general to govern each territory carved out of
them. Collectively, these holdings are known as the Endless Marches of the Legion Sanguinary, the ever-
expanding edge of the Lion’s aggression.
The Legion’s current orders emphasize maintaining its hold over the Endless Marches rather than seizing
new territories, though the Lion still launches the occasional foray. The Lion is careful not to let their
territory expand beyond what their forces can hold — but every raid into the shadowland swells the
Legion’s ranks. When the time is right, the twelve armies will return to conquest.

F ighting the L egion

Most of the Legion’s companies are Size 5 battle groups of war ghosts (Exalted, p.
504), with elite Drill and Might 2. At times, it may be dramatically appropriate to
divide a single company into multiple Size 5 battle groups. They’re typically led
by an Abyssal, or by a mortwight or nephwrack (Exalted, pp. 505-506). These traits
 are only the minimum — Storytellers should feel free to use different kinds of
undead, add unique powers, or otherwise customize individual companies.

The Thousand
The Lion scorns the shadowland lairs of other Deathlords, repulsed at the notion of dwelling so close to
the living world. They sought out the Spears of Victory, a mountain range in the Underworld’s southern
reaches that offers an afterlife to the shades of soldiers denied the burial rites. By their command, the
mountains were carved and hollowed into vast fortress-city called the Thousand. Ghosts called to its
afterlife are now conscripted into the Legion Sanguinary, pressed into another chance at martial glory.
The mountainous citadel is a maze of treasure halls, puzzle-rooms, libraries, forges, arsenals, and trophy
rooms. Much of it is occupied by a cavernous barracks capable of holding six full armies of the Legion
Sanguinary. The cavern’s uttermost depths predate both the Thousand and the afterlife before it. They’re
roamed by strange beasts unremembered even by the dead. Those venturing into them occasionally return
bearing strange treasures of unknown purpose, created by whatever dwelt in the depths long before
humanity.

Deathknights
The Lion is a cruel master to most, but can’t afford to show their deathknights such treatment. They feel
little empathy for their Abyssals, brook no disrespect from them, and make stark examples of failure, but
they’re neither unreasonable nor malicious. That’s the most their Abyssals can hope for — there is no
kindness in the Lion, nothing left of the charismatic warlord who was beloved by their soldiers.
The Lion hopes that their Abyssals will one day be their most trusted generals, and seeks to shape their
deathknights into champions worthy of such respect. They freely teach their students all they know of
warfare, swordplay, Underworld lore, politics, and necromancy’s first and second circles. Success is
rewarded, whether with triumphal processions, plundered riches, governorships in the Endless Marches,
artifacts from the Lion’s own arsenal, or access to the forbidden texts kept in their personal library.
Failure is punished, but with an eye toward ensuring the deathknight learns what needs to be learned from
their defeat.
Many of the Lion’s deathknights given positions of authority in the Legion Sanguinary, leading
companies or entire armies, while the penultimate rank of General Diablerie has become a shifting
position, held by whichever deathknight the Lion has the most confidence in. Others hold elite positions
for their specialist roles. This has bred resentment among the Deathlord’s old guard of ghost-officers,
though their malice largely falls upon the deathknights who’ve replaced them rather than the Lion.
When the Lion instructs their deathknights in death’s chivalry, they speak not of glorious service to the
Neverborn, but of grim necessity. The Deathlord expects their Abyssals to be just as scrupulous as they
are in honoring death’s chivalry, though they mislike those who show too much zeal for the Neverborn.
While the Lion rages against their masters, they are no ally to traitorous Abyssals who would defy the
Neverborn’s will or deathknights-errant seeking redemption. Perhaps they could be won over, but after
centuries of constant agony and all-consuming hatred, they refuse to let anyone achieve the freedom that
they’ve been denied.

Allies and Enemies

The Lion is confident that The Black Heron will one day return to power, and has backed her efforts to
rebuild her power in hopes of currying favor — or at least obligation — with the greatest killer among the
Deathlords. It’s an uneasy alliance, but the Heron has grudgingly worked alongside the Lion, whether
coordinating efforts between their Abyssals or interfering in Stygian politics.
Among other Deathlords, the Lion has been condemned as a traitor by those most devoted to the
Neverborn — The Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible, The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears, and
The Walker in Darkness. While none dare risk open conflict with the Lion’s forces, they take any
opportunity to sabotage his efforts. At times, the Legion’s expansion has brought the Lion into conflict
with The Silver Prince in the Underworld’s bleak seas, though it’s been decades since their forces last
clashed.
The Lion is hated by many of their conquered foes — or at least, by those spared in grudging shows of
death’s chivalry. Stygia’s Dual Monarchs are foremost among these, despising the Deathlord for their
leading role in the Stygian Pact that conquered the grand necropolis. With her kingdom razed down to
ashes, Prince Laki of Nothing now stirs up rebellion across the Endless Marches. Kariaz Horizon-
Called, once one of Stygia’s foremost defenders, has retreated into the Labyrinth’s depths in search of
blasphemous power with which to take his revenge.

Notable Followers
Haughty and scornful, He Who Walks on Laughter is drunk on power and Essence fever, having
Exalted less than a year ago. He studied warfare and leadership from a young age as a member of
Champoor’s Sanjhar caste, and won the Deathlord’s favor with his rapid understanding of First Age
strategic concepts like air superiority. The Dusk Caste uses his favored position to agitate for increasing
aggression, but finds no purchase with the Lion. He now conspires with some among the Legion’s
generals who share his bellicose ambitions.
A master of espionage, infiltration, and military intelligence, the Meticulous Owl was already a trusted
servant of the Lion before he Exalted, recruited from the ranks of a shadowland ancestor cult. He is never
without his black jade death-mask, for an ill-fated pilgrimage into the Labyrinth left his body warped and
withered. Some among the Lion’s deathknights whisper that the eerily loyal Day Caste spies on them as
well as the Deathlord’ foes, reporting any signs of disloyalty directly to the Deathlord.
The ghost of an ancient Dragon-Blooded warlord, Ashes of the Lotus is the Lion’s most trusted general,
having fought alongside them in life. Before the creation of the Abyssal Exalted, she was the Legion’s
General Diablerie, but she’s been relegated to a lesser generalship to make way for a procession of the
Lion’s less-experienced favorites. Her bitter resentment over this has yet to overcome her loyalty to her
one-time friend, but she delights in their deathknights’ failure. She’s too cautious to directly sabotage
their efforts, but offers tacit approval and deniable support to the efforts of other disgruntled officers.
Feast of the Centipede’s Daughter is the Lion’s acting general in Stygia, maintaining strict military
order in the Legion Sanguinary’s barracks in the Iron Hills district. The Medoan ghost-warlord is perhaps
more paranoid even than her master, seeing intrigue and infiltrators around every corner. She’s concerned
by the Lion’s tentative alliance with the Black Heron, fearing whatever ulterior motives the Deathlord
might harbor. She increasingly spends her time investigating the Heron and her servants — an obsession
that, to Feast’s horror, has begun to spill over into romantic infatuation.

The Mask of Winters

Haughty and flamboyant, the Mask of Winters cuts a dramatic figure. His outfits vary as widely as his
moods — whether skull-adorned soulsteel plate armor, ominous crimson robes sewn with arcane sigils, or
richly embroidered doublet and jodhpurs. Whatever his attire, he always stands tall and proud, forever
wearing ornate masks to conceal the ruin of his face.
Though younger than his fellow Deathlords, the Mask is as brilliant and devious as any. Where he cannot
quite match his peers in their fields of specialty — whether the Lion’s generalship, the Dowager’s
necromancy, or the Prince’s administrative acumen — he’s unrivaled among them for daring and
ambition.
Eager to make his mark, the Mask is driven to prove himself the equal or better of his peers. He aims to
build an Underworld empire larger than any other, with a capital as grand and cosmopolitan as Stygia, all
backed by necromancy never before seen by the living or the dead. To achieve this throws himself into
each new project or plan with furious intensity, so as to avoid the languid deliberation to which the dead
so often find themselves subject. Until recently he was a little-known personage, seen largely as an occult
advisor to the Perfect Circle that directs the Eastern Underworld’s mighty Acheron League. Then, within
a few years, he claimed the League’s seat in Stygia as a Signatory and dispatched the monstrous
Juggernaut to Thorns, becoming a sensation in the Underworld and Creation alike.
The Mask maintains an utterly pragmatic approach to the chivalry of death, pursuing it just enough to
avoid the wrath of the Neverborn. But he sees human lives and the fates of empires as mere playthings,
like pieces on a game board. This cold, calculating analysis can feel more terrifying than mere malice.
He only considers a handful of beings — the other Deathlords, the Dual Monarchs, and the like — to be
meaningful players on his game’s board. He can grow frustrated and temperamental when some lesser
figure interferes with his plans, looking for a guiding hand behind them, but is pleased when they finally
prove themselves to be a fellow player worthy of understanding and defeating.
The Mask prefers to follow local conventions and uphold his promises, not because he believes in such
things, but because doing so makes him seem more reasonable and less threatening. Moreover, it allows
him to accomplish betrayals that might be impossible for those with a reputation for treachery or caprice.
In war, he prefers legitimate casus belli to maintain alliances and diffuse opposition. Likewise, he enjoys
pitting his neighbors against one another even when not entirely necessary. This distracts others from the
threat that he himself poses, allows him to appear magnanimous when interceding on an ally’s behalf for
his own advantage, and simply strikes him as more elegant than brute force.

Agenda
The Mask’s current project is preparing for war against the Empire of Aki, aiming to break its power and
annex its heartlands to the Acheron League. His agents muster troops, forge alliances with buffer states
and rebellious Akeitan provinces, and undermine the Empire by turning its Council of Royals against one
another, spreading dissent among the populace, spying, sabotage, assassination, and the like, while
thwarting rival Signatories’ efforts to do the same to the League.
His short-term goal is reclaiming Thorns’ old provinces and annexing key neighbors. This serves many
purposes: reinforcing a valuable Abyssal’s loyalty, easing the Neverborn’s slumber through slaughter,
amassing undead troops for the Acheron League’s conquests, and — by inflaming the Scavenger Lands’
people against Deathlords — harassing his rival, the Walker in Darkness. His agents strengthen alliances
with Thornish provincial lords and pliable neighboring polities, find or fabricate further casus belli on
targets for annexation, and foment other conflicts in the River Province to distract Lookshy and the
Council of Rivers. He aims to forge a united Thornish kingdom that supplies undead troops for the
League long-term, but will abandon it if necessary.
The Mask pursues many lower-priority schemes in the background. He desires leverage over rival
Signatories in Stygia, gathers lost relics and forgotten magics in the Underworld and Creation, spies on
rivals and allies alike, and engages in petty one-upsmanship with the Silver Prince and other worthies
purely for entertainment. Such plots serve as excellent proving grounds for untested deathknights.

The Acheron League

The Acheron League stretches throughout the Underworld’s eastern isles, from the marsh-ringed city of
Verberance to distant Light-upon-the-Fingers, where villages are perched atop pillars of bone. The
League presents itself to the Underworld as a confederation to which the Mask of Winters is merely the
seniormost member. In truth, it is far less egalitarian; its members willingly becoming his vassals in
exchange for preferential treatment, resources, and protection which often see them elevated to regional
capitals. The Mask’s forces conquer and annex his vassals’ enemies; those who yield suffer significant tax
burdens but retain local rule under the Mask’s suzerainty, while those that refuse to surrender or which
persistently rebel are razed, their populations scattered and shipped to the far corners of the League.
Though much of his attention is invested in Creation in the aftermath of the invasion of Thorns, the Mask
of Winters takes pains to ensure the stability of the League. In his absence, it is largely ruled by the
Perfect Circle, a trusted council of puissant specters who have distinguished themselves with long and
loyal service. He approves of ambition in his lesser lieutenants, satraps, and governors, eager to see them
compete against one another — and just as ready to intervene when one oversteps their bounds or lets
competition metastasize into something that could endanger the League’s stability, as he did when he
exiled a general known as Prayer Unto Nothing to the hinterlands as a disgraced magistrate for allowing
her troops to sabotage the forces of a rival vassal.

Black Diamond
The city of Black Diamond is the heart of the Acheron League, a sprawling metropolis dominating the
continent of Tholos in the eastern Underworld. Silver-roofed guard towers rise from beetle-black basalt
city walls and along the many grand bridges crossing the river. Untamed sprawl spreads outside the walls;
inside stands a triumphal procession of civic buildings, their monolithic marble and silver facades
interrupted only by carefully manicured parks and elaborate monuments to the Perfect Circle and the
Mask himself.
Over a million skillful ghosts gather here. Some came at sword’s point from the Mask’s conquests; he
lured others with opportunities to fulfill their passions. Today Black Diamond throngs with masterful
artisans, ambitious merchants, and insightful scholars. Meanwhile, tribute, trade, and plunder all flow to
the city’s coffers, funding its extravagance. As a result, Black Diamond is a cultural touchstone to rival
almost any other in the Underworld.
The Perfect Circle holds a central role in Black Diamond’s culture. Ghosts in a duke’s service wear
emblems indicating their affiliation; other utter propitiatory prayers to avoid the Circle’s attentions. It’s
customary at formal meals to set a place “for the duke” should one appear — though most among the
dukes claim this prerogative no more than once every few years, it remains a firm custom for fear of their
approbation or in hopes that they might grant some minor favor. The Mask of Winters once held a distant
role as the city’s founder, but cults to him have risen since he claimed the Signatory’s seat.
Masks are a notable sight in the city, even by the standards of the Underworld. Sumptory laws prescribe
thirteen ranks through which a ghost may ascend, earning the right to don masks of ever-more elaborate
designs and luxurious materials. At the lowest end, a tenant-farmer might don a crude construct of rough-
carved wood, while the grandees of the higher ranks go about in sumptuous visards and gaudy masks of
porcelain, abalone, and ivory.
Artificers, geomancers, and necromancers labor to create enchanted weapons, automata, siege weapons,
ships, and the like to enhance the League’s military might. These experts pool their knowledge within the
smoldering ziggurat of the Hall of Attainment, an academy of necromancy and occult arts famed across
the Underworld. Like the Mask himself, the academy is a place of ambition and striving, born out of its
origins as a home-in-exile for those sages expelled from Stygia during the failed collegia rebellion. The
Mask funds his scholars lavishly, attempting to woo masters away from their ancient towers to mixed
effect, forcing prideful ghosts long-set in their ways to work alongside juniors ravenous for progress and
acclaim.
The Perfect Circle resides in the many-spired circular structure called the Ring — or, by some, the
Beartrap. The dukes rarely gather in full amid its bleak, shadowy halls; their lieutenants represent them
while they move about the League managing political affairs, resolving unnatural disasters, putting down
bandits and rebels, and the like. Ghosts fear being called to the Ring; few petition or lobby the monstrous
dukes, who aren’t swayed by wealth or connections. Sixteen wordless sentinels stand guard over the
Ring’s gates, each with a fabled soulsteel weapon fit for an executioner.
The Mask’s manse-palace, the Spire of Endless Midnight, rises like a thorn from the middle of the River
Acheron at the city’s exact center. Behind its impregnable obsidian walls and occult wards, he gathers his
most precious treasures, labors on his most secret necromantic experiments, and shackles his most secure
prisoners. Though his current campaign keeps him in Thorns, he still returns on occasion to oversee the
mechanisms of empire, and he will reestablish himself here should Juggernaut fall.

Other Noteworthy League Locales

Endless revels abound in the City of Black Wine, afterlife of the Sisphe people of the Cormorant Cities
(Across the Eight Directions, p. XX). Its namesake vintage — heavy, fragrant, and honey-sweet —
graces the tables of Underworld emperors, though none know what strange fruit its vintner-priests use in
its manufacture. Such is the city’s notoriety that it’s become an afterlife for other peoples across the
Scavenger Lands; impoverished Nexus streetfolk and the nomadic Gyrae people alike speak of it in their
funerary rites — the former call it a heaven of endless gustatory delights, while the latter deem it a
decadent, depraved hell. Its streets, bazaars, wineshops, and gambling dens throng with ghostly
merchants, rogues, charlatans, and hedonists of every description. The Mask recruits many of his most
effective factors and spies here.
At the River Acheron’s mouth, the bitter crags of Metapyla await those few Lookshyans who linger in
the Underworld despite their Immaculate faith. Centuries ago, Seventh Legion ghosts cleansed the region
of the specters that thronged in the Grand Tempest’s wake, then claimed rulership over the helot dead.
Centuries later, the Acheron League’s Perfect Circle aided a ghost-helot rebellion, storming the Legion’s
citadel and seizing the dead gentes’ grave goods. Today, a ghost-helot council rules in Metapyla. They
fulfill their role in the empire by supplying elite soldiers and war machines to further the Mask’s
ambitions. Rebels rally around a heretical Immaculate cult, led by ghosts of Seventh Legion chaplains and
other devotees of the Faith, who mark the Perfect Circle and the Mask as Anathema.
The timeless Fen of Grasping Hands lies southeast of Black Diamond, along the languorous, plague-
ridden River of Lamentations near to where it joins the Acheron. Enormous hands, blue and cold, lurk
beneath the surface; they surge out to clutch wandering ghosts and drag them to drown forever in the
shallows. Many cultures deem it a hell that swallows the wicked after death — Nexus folklore says it
claims skinflint employers and swindling merchants, Great Forks’ slaves whisper that it seizes slavers’
ghosts, and the Marukani horselords condemn horsethieves to its embrace.
The city Release stands atop a basalt plateau that the Mask raised up amid the Fen over a century ago. His
governor, the Myrrh Braid, was in life a calculating merchant prince, expelled from the Guild for her
crimes. With an eldritch ivory scepter lent by the Mask, the Braid has liberated tens of thousands of
ghosts from the Fen’s grasping hands. These now reside in Release, serving the League as laborers,
soldiers, artisans, and brokers, out of gratitude for their freedom… and in fear of being condemned to the
Fen once more.

Deathknights
The Mask values drive and ambition in his deathknights, and encourages them to better their skills and to
pursue private projects — so long as that doesn’t interfere with his own goals. Whenever possible, he
prefers to Exalt those whose ambitions or interests align with tasks he wishes to set them to; he deems this
elegant, and makes it less likely that they’ll seek independence or enter service with his rivals. Likewise,
he’s not above wooing another Deathlord’s vassal, but only if the Abyssal truly seems like a better fit in
his own employ.
Soon after a deathknight’s Exaltation, the Mask takes some action that significantly furthers that
Abyssal’s long-term goals, with the intent of both inspiring loyalty and incurring a debt. This is coldly
calculated, but often effective nonetheless. For example, with the Prince Resplendent in the Ruin of Ages,
who’d been a penurious scavenger lord in life, he arranged the humiliation and bankruptcy of a longtime
rival, transferring her assets to the Prince — including records and cipher keys to a certain First Age ruin
whose contents the Mask desired.
The Mask doesn’t concern himself with his deathknights’ ideology or their private agendas, so long as
they serve him loyally and pursue his goals successfully. He generously rewards exemplary service and
decisive successes, but supports his own interests in doing so. Generals and warriors receive estates and
military forces at the empire’s borders; spymasters and socialites earn titles and intelligence assets in
Stygia, Black Diamond, Thorns, or other key cities; occultists learn spells and pact with esoteric entities
whose powers mesh with some upcoming task. He carefully selects artifacts to match their recipients’
personalities and styles, occasionally crafting them himself, but in exchange he expects to hear dramatic
tales of victories achieved through their use.

Allies and Enemies

Of all his peers, the Mask most enjoys tweaking the nose of the Silver Prince. Both are creatures of
vanity and drama; their shared hunger to be seen as superior to their peers puts them at odds. The Mask
makes a game of this, delivering petty affronts calculated to raise the Prince’s ire, yet too small for the
Prince to retaliate against without seeming pettier still.
The Mask nurses a more passionate rivalry with the Walker in Darkness. The Walker is also among the
youngest Deathlords, and the Mask refuses to let such a peer outshine him. Meanwhile, the Walker’s
dedication to the Neverborn and the chivalry of death causes friction between them. In addition, the
Walker’s shared presence in the eastern Underworld and in Creation’s Scavenger Lands makes him a
convenient target for the Mask to focus his frustrations upon.
The Mask corresponds with both the Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils and the
Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears to exchange arcane knowledge, but otherwise keeps them at arm’s
length to avoid the former’s zealotry and the latter’s schemes. He maintains more convivial terms with
Eye and Seven Despairs to get first crack at purchasing the lethal products of their workshop; he
currently owes them a favor for helping him discover the behemoth that became Juggernaut.
Once among the Acheron League’s greatest rival-states, the Empire of Aki has never been more
vulnerable to the Mask, to his delight. This coalition of polities was once bound together by the ghost-
hero Aki in ages past; since her disappearance centuries ago, it has stagnated, now ruled by a Council of
Regends in her name. Wracked by rebellion and riven by political strife, the empire struggles to muster a
defense against the Acheron League’s border raids and its annexation of the steadily dwindling buffer
states between the two great Underworld powers. The Mask of Winters will take special delight in what
he sees as inevitable conquest, and has already planned appropriately gruesome punishments for each of
the imperial regents to repay past losses and knit his injured pride.

Notable Followers
The Rightful Heir by Red Iron Rebuked — also called the Red Iron Rebuke — rules Thorns on the
Mask’s behalf. When the Mask came to him during his imprisonment, starved and feverish within his cell,
he accepted the Mask’s bargain: freedom and his city’s throne in exchange for fealty. Today, this gaunt
Moonshadow Caste stands as the nominal sovereign ruler of Thorns. Once an introverted poet and
huntsman with little personal ambition, he wishes to do right by his people, but remains embittered; he
sees the city’s current suffering as a mirror to how he once suffered, and aims to ease its people’s troubles
with spoils and tribute. He still seeks out his brother’s surviving allies among the rebel Thornish
provinces to make them pay for their role in usurping him.
Though tall, strong, and hale, the Seven Seasons Widow shows the marks of many decades in her gray
hair and seamed face. Over her long life, she’d been a far-traveling mercenary, then the war-leader of a
now-defunct confederation of city-states west of Nechara, then finally a prince’s chief military advisor.
The Mask found her as she lay dying of old age, and offered life and strength; today, this Dusk Caste
warrior-general oversees the Mask’s war efforts in Creation, finding grim satisfaction in decisive
victories, wild revels among her troops, and collecting battle trophies. She chafes as nominal vassal to the
Heir, who determines when she may go to war and still holds a grudge over her brutal tactics during the
conquest of Thorns. She also struggles to obtain reinforcements and supplies from the Mask’s longtime
ghost-generals, who feel slighted by her sudden ascent.
Many years ago, Safram Amaya — a minor aristocrat and a scholar of natural philosophy — held high
rank in Thorns as an advisor to the Autocrat Mazandan Sepehr. They tutored the Autocrat’s children, and
became close friends with the one who would become the Heir. Later, to protest the Heir’s blinding and
imprisonment, Amaya renounced their rank and went into voluntary exile. Upon conquering Thorns, the
Heir called them back and made them a noble of the highest rank. Amaya remains uncomfortable with the
dead, and worries about the morality of involvement with Anathema, even as a friend. Nonetheless, they
remain unswervingly loyal to the Heir, serving as his envoy to neighboring provinces and polities and
advising him on political and economic matters. They try to steer him toward upholding the common
people’s needs, bringing petitions from desperate citizens to his attention — despite the animosity this
earns from venal court officials.
A score of puissant nephwracks and similar spectral entities comprise the Perfect Circle, the Mask’s
regents in the Acheron League. They include the Mask’s enigmatic spymaster and shadow-weaver, the
Duke of the Blindfold; the horrid blazing war-beast called the Duke Who Embraced the Pyre; the
Duke of the Hoarfrost Spear, a cruel strategist and battle-champion; an alluring, ruthless administrator
and master of the requiem arts, the Duke with No Heart; the Duke with Seven Jaws, a devious and
ferocious shapeshifter-admiral; and a brilliant and vindictive exchequer and soulfire-wielder, the Duke of
the White Jade Hoard. Many of these have found themselves working uncomfortably alongside Abyssal
newcomers or even supplanted entirely. Though obedient to the Mask via bargains and bindings, their
pride and jealousy may provoke friction and strife with his deathknights.

The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears

Amid the icy wastes of the North reigns a dreaded witch-queen, cruel and uncaring as the winter’s cold.
This is the Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears. She is the death of love. She is the moment when one
wakes from a dream of a long-dead lover and remembers that they will never see them again.
The Lover is beautiful — tall and wiry of frame, skin soft as a funereal silk, cheeks flushed with stolen
vitality — for the living must learn that beauty is no balm to life’s futility. To those who’ve lost their
lovers to the grave, she appears in the guise of their beloved, a perfect creation save for the taste of ash
upon her lips. She often affects indolence, but when this façade falls, the warm flush of life vanishes from
her features, and an eerie chill surrounds her, the killing cold of cruelty.
The Lover seeks out the wise, the mighty, and the so-called righteous, testing the bonds between them and
those closest to their heart. Some may survive such ordeals, but few emerge unbroken, for the Lover is
unflinching in ensuring her victims understand that all love must wither and die. Those who fail her tests
or are broken by her lessons meet direful ends: cursed with baleful necromancies, forged into soulsteel
mementos of their failure, or killed and reanimated as one of the Loveless, alluring but murderous undead
who wander her domain.
The Lover does not pretend at compassion. Her trials are meant to snuff out the hope of the living and to
vindicate her contempt for love in the face of death. Her only mercy is reserved for the heartsick, the
lonely, and the lost. She welcomes them into her dominion, forbidding her undead servants from harming
them, for such pilgrims have already learned the lessons she would teach.
Though the Lover is feared by the living who dwell near her shadowland dominion, in times of need,
supplicants make the perilous trek to her Fortress of Crimson Ice. Others seek her out as well:
necromancers in search of tutelage, ascetics drawn by her bleak philosophy, and fools who believe they
could win her heart. Few return alive, but the Lover has been known to show magnanimity to those who
overcome her trials, granting boons or taking them as champions, disciples, or paramours.
The Lover is among the most powerful necromancers of the Deathlords, having mastered the Void Circle,
and her prowess in intrigue, art, seduction, and artifice is legendary. She wears an ornate orichalcum
cuirass beneath cascading sable and cerulean robes that fall to her ankles. Siren in Avern, a rapier of nigh-
translucent soulsteel, hangs from her waist, hungry for the hearts of her foes. The Mirror of Darkness and
Lightning floats beside her, an ovate disc of polished silver wood six feet in height. A sorcerous demon is
bound within the mirror’s depths, ever seeking to overpower the will of those who gaze within and seize
them in his eleven arms of jet-black lightning.

Agenda
The Lover considers herself a devout servant of the Neverborn, bringing Creation a step closer to its end
with each victim broken by her ordeals. Little by little, the torment of individuals erodes the foundations
of cultures and societies, spreading the Lover’s truth like an insidious decay. She is a meticulous
perfectionist in this, unwilling to compromise her principles or her craft in the name of expedience. She
ignores any criticism of this from her fellow Deathlords, deeming them rash and intemperate. With all
eternity in which to end the world, why should she settle for anything less than absolute perfection?
As a master necromancer, the Lover has raised up armies of corpses from beneath the snows and
summoned primeval horrors of the Underworld to capture and occupy shadowlands across the North. She
has no dreams of conquest beyond these shadowlands’ boundaries; rulership holds no appeal for her, and
would rather the living submit to despair than the point of a sword. Instead, the shadowlands serve to
spread her message across the North. Spectral envoys and disciples emerge from these conquered
shadowlands bearing her teachings to distant lands; necromantic horrors shamble forth to crush those who
think they can stand against the Lover. Now it is her deathknights that ride forth, spreading despair and
corruption in their lady’s name.

The Fortress of Crimson Ice and the Lover’s Dominion

The Vale of Dust and Shadows, a small shadowland, lies in the Wasting Tundra of the far North. Within
it, the Lover reigns from the Fortress of Crimson Ice. From afar, the crystalline manse seems shrouded by
an ethereal miasma. These are the ghosts of those who failed the Lover’s test, cursed to an eternity in the
freezing wastes.
In shadowlands captured by the Lover’s forces, steles of red ice and marmoreal sculptures of the
Deathlord are raised as monuments to her victory, for her armies know that she will soon arrive to survey
the new conquest and spread her teachings. Deposed rulers are either bent to the Lover’s will as
unquestioning thralls or executed and replaced with trusted spectral champions or deathknights.
The Lover’s domain is haunted by the Loveless, wretched remnants of those who’ve failed her tests. They
do not seem dead at first glance, merely pale-skinned and blue-lipped, though the utter cold of their flesh
belies this, for their bodies are things of shade and spirit. Doomed to an eternity of isolation, they seek the
warmth of the living, enticing hunters, travelers, and nomads with their alluring beauty and siphoning
away their prey’s vitality. Those who go too long without such sustenance succumb to monstrous
rapacity, killing and feasting upon the still-warm flesh of the living.

Deathknights
The Lover prizes her deathknights as her greatest disciples, having overcome the ultimate test of Abyssal
Exaltation. In exchange for their service, they receive her mentorship in necromancy, artifice, and
understanding the desires of the living and the dead. Those skilled in persuasion, philosophy, or art learn
to test and subvert the living, while those who strengths lie elsewhere hone their skills to exemplify the
Lover’s bleak truths through action. They might be rewarded with control of a shadowland conquered by
her forces, made margraves of the Lover’s dominion, or be given command of one of the shambling
armies raised by her necromancy.
The Lover asks little of her deathknights, but expects much. At times she bids them return to the Fortress
of Crimson Ice to recount their deeds, taking eminent satisfaction at every prince driven to despair, every
monastery tempted into nihilistic heresy, every Sworn Kinship divided by honeyed words or a daiklave’s
edge. She bids those Abyssals without triumphs to report accompany her when next she finds a victim to
test, that they might learn from her and perhaps even take over the torment themselves. The Lover can’t
leave everything to her deathknights’ discretion, though, for there is much to be done in her conquest of
the Northern shadowlands and her dealings with rival Deathlords, requiring military and diplomatic
missions.
The Lover’s tutelage marries death’s chivalry to her philosophy, teaching that breaking the will of the
living is more pleasing to the Neverborn than mere slaughter. She encourages restraint and patience over
passionate zeal, promising her Chosen that there’s time enough for all they long to accomplish. She offers
a similar view to those contemplating their vows to destroy the world, urging them to focus on more
pressing matters and take a long-term view to the apocalypse. But she still expects her Chosen to
faithfully serve the Neverborn. She does not punish the wayward openly, but those who commit egregious
violations receive duties and missions meant to reveal the folly of their ways.

The Tear Eaters

The Lover is the divine patron of the Tear Eater clans, the result of a promise made long ago to Vadul
Tenth-Descendant, a Tear Eater who overcame her tests and became her disciple. The nomadic clans
range along the Wasting Tundra, raiding and trading with settlements.
Tear Eater religion and society centers around the Great Dead, revered ancestors whose ghosts have been
thaumaturgically bound to their own mummified corpses. Most exist in a quasi-lucid state, kept in sacred
shrine-tents where they speak in riddles and prophecies that are interpreted by a clan’s shaman. The eldest
break free of this fugue and hold honored positions within their clan as advisors, storytellers, warleaders,
and emissaries to the Lover. Children take their names from their Great Dead ancestor, with a suffix
denoting their generation.
Most Tear Eater clans are led by a chieftain — sometimes selected by the Great Dead, sometimes chosen
for glory in battle, and sometimes elected, depending on the clan. Of equal prominence are a clan’s
shamans, responsible for creating and tending to the Great Dead. Shamans’ auguries are given great
importance by the Tear Eaters, whether interpreting prophecies of the Great Dead or predicting the future
through scapulomancy, reading the patterns in fire-cracked shoulder blades. They also serve as
intermediaries between their clan and the spirits of the shadowlands and the wilderness. Shamans are
forbidden from touching the living, burning dead flesh, and marrying.
The Tear Eaters consider the Lover a powerful ally and guardian of the Great Dead, offering unto her the
same prayers and sacrifices given to their ancestors. Her gifts to the clans are many: sharing the locations
of First Age ruins ripe for plunder, offering up shadowlands conquered by her forces, and providing
sustenance in times of famine.
Under the Lover’s tutelage, the Great Dead learned to raise corpses as zombies to labor and hunt on
behalf of the clans, giving living Tear Eaters greater freedom to practice artisanship, debate, and matters
of public importance or theological significance, or simply enjoy leisure activities. Many are raised from
the corpses of those who die of disease or old age, or who’ve gravely dishonored themselves. These are
known as the Nameless Dead, for none may speak of who they were in life. Other Nameless Dead are
raised from war captives and enemies killed in battle, a practice that has earned the Tear Eaters a
fearsome reputation.
The Lover’s teachings have spread among the Tear Eaters, but many balk at a philosophy that stands in
stark opposition to the traditions of the Great Dead. Some argue that they must abandon their ancestors,
both to fully win the Deathlord’s favor and to free the living Tear Eaters from the ancient, outmoded ways
of their ancestors. The Lover refuses to intervene in this; to do so, she believes, would break the spirit of
her promise to Vadul.

Allies and Enemies

The Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible is an ancient rival of the Lover; so long has the grudge
persisted that neither remembers clearly why it began. She indulges in it with almost unseemly passion,
directing her Abyssals and other agents to undermine the Bishop’s plans, subvert his Shining Way, and
compromise his most trusted servants and champions.
While the Walker in Darkness’ ranging through the Scavenger Lands keeps him far from the Fortress of
Crimson Ice, his travels through the Underworld have occasionally brought him to the Lover’s court, and
the two have long considered each other allies. Both are equally devoted to the Neverborn, and the
Walker’s temptations complement the Lover’s ordeals, the velvet to her soulsteel. They’ve even made
temporary diplomatic exchanges of their deathknights, fostering close relationships between their
Abyssals.
The Lover’s conquests of Northern shadowlands have made her many enemies. Undead princes-in-exile,
like the grim warrior-queen Petal Jaguar, plot their vengeance against the Deathlord, while ghostly
rebels, like the faceless Prisoners of Keth, conspire to undermine or overthrow her appointed rulers. The
Lunar necromancer Smiling Rat has also posed an obstacle to her advance, though he’s yet to discover
her involvement.

Notable Followers
The Curate of the Desecrated Sacrament delights in the hypocrisy of the righteous. Presenting himself
to princes, magnates, and priests as an ambassador of the Lover, he wins his way into their confidences —
and at times, their arms — so that he might expose their infidelities and improprieties. In contrast to his
stern Deathlord, the Curate makes sport of such schemes, almost playful in the audacity with which he
tempts fate. His vainglory hasn’t gone unnoticed: the Mask of Winters has set in motion schemes to snare
the Curate in his own game, compromising him as a double agent against the Lover.
Once a Tear Eater shaman, the Shadow of the Ash Arrow is now the Lover’s envoy to the Great Dead.
Her blessing has made the Moonshadow a holy figure, acclaimed as one of the Great Dead. While the
Lover avoids intervening in Tear Eater religion, the Shadow believes they can reconcile it with her
teachings, portraying the Great Dead as divine emissaries of the Lover who willingly forgo freedom from
desire to guide their descendants. Converting the clans and their Great Dead to this new theology would
be no mean feat, but it pales in comparison to persuading the Lover. For now, the Shadow plunders ruins
in search of ancient scriptures and takes counsel with ghostly mystics and savants, drawing on teachings
from many faiths to compose an irrefutable argument.
Blue Sigil is a petty aristocrat of the port city of Grieve, her jovial manner concealing her mocking
cruelty. Like all who’ve drunk of the city’s fabled White Elixir, she’s become an undead revenant, unable
to bear the sun’s touch. She’s sent envoys to the Fortress of Crimson Ice to beseech the Lover’s favor,
seeking the Deathlord’s tutelage in necromancy to gain dominion over all Grieve’s revenants — including
its queen, Shield Glory. Her entreaties succeeded in catching the Deathlord’s attention; now, the Lover
tests Blue Sigil to see if the princeling is worthy of becoming her student, and perhaps one day her
puppet-queen.
The Sorrow-Siren no longer remembers why he was cursed to become one of the Loveless; his mortal
life is lost to him. He preyed on the lost and the lonely, offering the warmth of his campfire and the rattle
of dice, but the Great Contagion slew the mortals he fed upon, dooming him to starvation and maddening
isolation. In the depths of this agony, he heard the whispers of the dead titans; now, he is never alone. The
Lover favors him, pleased to see him finally attain enlightenment. No longer does he hunger; instead, he
evangelizes the Neverborn to both the living and the Loveless, teaching them to hear the whispers.

The Silver Prince

Also called the Bodhisattva Anointed by Dark Waters, the Silver Prince is the sagacious ghost-emperor of
the Skullstone Archipelago. For centuries he’s ruled from his capital of Onyx on the isle of Darkmist,
building a society according to his visionary ideals of perfection. He believes that his perfect culture
reshaping Creation is an inevitability — however long it takes is of no consequence to him.
The Silver Prince hides his withered form behind opulent outfits, usually robes of cloth-of-silver and inky
silk, and the opal death-mask that is the sign of his rule. His black hair, thin and wiry, rolls over his
soulsteel-scale cape. He's a legendary administrator, orator, sailor, and philosopher, as well as a potent
necromancer. He always carries one of his countless dread polearms, but can summon others from his
panoply with his mastery of Thousand Blades style, each equally storied in might.
The Prince’s exploits are many, mythologized in Skullstone’s epics and gospels. Hebrokered peace
between the Clade of Innocents’s plunderers and the Charnel Choir’s howling masses; he slew the
chthonic leviathan Ophidian Husk on an island raised from the Sea of Shadows; and he voyaged to the
Far Shore in his legendary warship, Perfection’s Reach, and returned to tell the tale — though what he
saw there, he never speaks of.
In person, the Deathlord is urbane, gracious and witty, but incredibly vain, treating insults to his
aesthetics, rule, or people as insults to himself. He’s an irrepressible showoff with an air for the dramatic,
calculating every remark, appearance, and action for maximum impact. He strolls nightly through Onyx's
airy boulevards, patronizing necrotheaters and visiting important allies. He’s never without his honor
guard —a necromancer and seven ferocious ghost-heroes of Skullstone, rewarded for decades of
exemplary service to their emperor in life.

Agenda
Though he professes his loyalty to the Neverborn, the Deathlord has only ever served his own ambition of
seeing all Creation remade to his grand design. Breaking the barriers between the living and the dead as
he forged his ideal society served the slain ancients’ will, as does the spread of Skullstone’s culture, but
it’s for pride’s sake that he does this, not piety.
The Prince expands his empire slowly, ensnaring Western polities in trade agreements and treaties that
leave them economically dependent on Skullstone and receptive to the Sable Order. He sends sages and
merchants as spies to aid in this process, as well as his lictors. Later, he reveals loopholes, clauses, and
debts that force them into becoming protectorates. Governments become puppets, and native practices
erode under migration from Skullstone and schools that teach Sable Order values and turn people against
their traditions.
Unaligned Exalted have historically proven difficulty for the Prince to manage, so he regards them warily.
Outcastes are treated respectfully but not deferentially, for they too number among the living. Their
movements are monitored constantly by the Deathlord’s agents; on occasion, he’ll extend invitations to
visit him. Rarely, he offers patronage to those who demonstrate great loyalty. Necromancers receive
harsher treatment, pressed into service to the state if discovered. They’re compensated lavishly, but kept
under scrutiny — and hired covertly — for what they can do to thanatocrats.
While a hundred matters concern him, he is a cunning delegator, apt at choosing the perfect vassal for
every task. The majority of his personal attention now turns to undercutting the Western Trade Alliance
with exclusivity deals, expanding the Black Fleet, making overtures of alliance to House V’neef or
Peleps, and securing a stronger foothold in Stygia. Throughout these projects, he works to cultivate his
deathknights, testing and rewarding each of them in turn as he integrates them into the perfect machine
that is Skullstone.

The Sable Order

The perfect civilization must be perfect in all things: perfectly moral, perfectly educated, perfectly
organized, perfectly ruled. The state ideology of Skullstone, called the Sable Order, provides the basis for
these things. It stresses that the basis for this perfection is harmony between living and dead, in which all
know their station and perform their duties. Thanatocrats, those sainted ghosts deemed worthy by Black
Judges, guide the living; the living execute their will and live by the Sable Order, and are in turn attended
by zombies. The Silver Prince presides over it all as paragon, shepherd, and emperor, ensuring the
harmony of Skullstone
The Sable Order stresses many virtues: pride in one’s ancestors, reverence for the dead and Silver Prince,
thinking logically and clearly, and bold and undying passions loyalty to Skullstone and family, sacrificing
for others and welcoming the outcast. These permeate Skullstone culture at all levels. Murals depict black
tides and sails, the moment of death before Black Judges, and the Prince descending Mount Vashti with
all the world cupped in his hands, imparting the Sable Order to waiting Skullfolk. Folklore and plays
feature romances tragically split or sweetly preserved by the Black Judges, disrespect of dead elders
leading to karmic misfortune, and the civilizing of the ignorant.
While the Silver Prince is its originator and arbiter, Sable Order values and philosophy have been refined
over the centuries by countless hands. Seven texts comprise the traditional core of the philosophy,
collectively referred to as the Seven Sagacious Sources. The Silver Prince wrote the first three and
annotated the last four; they're taught as basic reading to all Skullfolk. Countless novels, histories, and
philosophical or alchemical treatises also comprise a loose, influential canon.
More broadly, Sable Order thought stresses that Skullstone is the final form of civilization itself, its
ultimate moral and intellectual evolution. All citizens are equal in Skullstone, because all are equally able
to lead virtuous lives and ascend in death. The Silver Prince, highest exemplar of the Order, revises it as
he steers the ship of Skullstone into the darkness of eternity; and in the fullness of time, all cultures will
fall before Skullstone’s perfection, as certain as death.

Deathknights
The Silver Prince loves his deathknights the way a horse racer loves his prized stallions: their success is
his own, each victory swelling his pride and reputation. As his Chosen, they’re esteemed as thanatocrats,
enjoying immense celebrity in Skullstone. Skullfolk consider it a privilege to meet their lord’s
deathknights, and their duty to accommodate them, though they don’t do so mindlessly. Abyssals are
gifted lavish estates in Onyx or Stygia, attended by zombie servants and invited to galas and
necrotheaters; their fashion sparks trends, their affairs are torrid gossip.
The Prince offers tutelage in administration, captaincy, courtly graces, and ethics, always imparting Sable
Order philosophy through his lessons. Those seeking instruction in other matters can learn from expert
tutors, the finest Skullstone has to offer. He makes little mention of death’s chivalry, trusting that his
deathknights will intuit what they need to know of it from the Sable Order’s teachings — even where his
own philosophy diverges from the will of the Neverborn. He’s confident that in time his deathknights will
become true believers in the Sable Order; he enjoys debating the topic with them, relishing how they
make him refine his arguments. Whether he would be so magnanimous in defeat remains unknown.
Though careful to let them pursue their own interests, the Deathlord expects service on behalf of
Skullstone. Abyssals quell unrest in protectorates, negotiate trade deals and treaties, slay mighty foes, and
explore the Underworld for lost islands and treasures. He regularly loans out his ship Perfection’s Reach
to favored deathknights, whose name is known in every port of the Underworld. Among their standing
orders is to open and expand shadowlands whenever practical, to lengthen Skullstone’s grasp mile by
inevitable mile.
Thanatocrats fear and resent Abyssals, wary of what they, like necromancers, can do to the dead. But they
also see opportunity in courting them. Deathknights are plied with gifts and offers of favor-trading by
elites seeking to curry favor with the Prince, or make a puissant ally.

The Crown of Eternity

Above the city of Onyx on the slopes of Mount Vashti looms the Silver Prince’s seat of power, the Crown
of Eternity. The palace-manse is the ultimate triumph of Sable Order aesthetics. Three cavernous wings,
carved from basalt and black marble with façades of silver filigree, form a vast horseshoe that cradles the
palace grounds: the Hall of Blackest Nights where the advisory Elder and Younger Councils meet,
sprawling rock gardens, and various architectural and statuary marvels. The Crown’s interior is opulent
beyond compare, artfully arranged displays of wealth and fine arts adorning every chamber and hall.
The Prince rules from the eastern wing, his throne room taking up over half the space, with the rest
devoted to archives and the treasury. Zombie couriers and ghostly bureaucrats scurry back and forth from
here and the Hall, carrying communiques and royal edicts. The northern wing is a decadent honeycomb of
parlors, spas, and art galleries; here, deathknights and honored guests dwell in splendor, in the only wing
that’s ever heated. The southern wing is reserved for the Prince himself, consisting of his personal
treasure-house, library, and the manse’s heart. He uses it as a focus to spread the Skullstone shadowland
at infinitesimal pace, absorbing outlying shadowlands into his domain.
This wing also contains the field-sized hall housing the Circumscription: an enormous, three-dimensional
map of Creation, charting its nations in a bewitching pattern of paper, ink and twine. The Circumscription
is incomplete and sorely out of date in parts; the Prince is always eager for new maps or stories of far-off
places to update it. He considers policy and decisions here, gleaning magical insight in its tangle, and
even more so in places submerged in shadowlands.
The Crown of Eternity was built at the dawn of history by a wraith-king whose name is lost, deliberately
erased by the Prince. This king numbered among the first Exalted ghosts to return to Creation, ruling for
many long years. He vanished before the First Age's end, leaving the palace empty until the Prince
claimed it; the subject of his reign and ultimate fate fascinates the Deathlord endlessly. Some whisper one
day he shall return from the Far Shores, a thought which the Prince finds preposterous even as he quietly
prepares for it.

Adherents of Note
The Knight of Ghosts and Shadows is among Skullstone’s foremost ambassadors, a Northern warrior-
poet and necromancer who serves as the Prince’s envoy. Their gentle melancholy aura, intricately tragic
plays, and androgynous fashion have won them admirers in Onyx and abroad in the West and
Underworld. The Cerenye family (p. XX) courts them by sponsoring performances of their work, seeing
the Moonshadow Caste as a way to bend the Prince’s ear; thus far, the Knight is happy to oblige them,
demonstrating blatant favoritism that vexes other High Families. They were Chosen by the Lover, but
defected to the Silver Prince for greater luxury in Onyx. In their incessant favor trading and networking,
the Knight sells the least of the Lover’s secrets to interested parties; should the luxuries slow or their new
liege ask too much, they might start selling the Prince’s secrets too.
As admiral of the Black Fleet, the Drowner of Saints has put down spirit-court rebellions, slain
behemoths on the Sea of Shadows, and smashed pirate ships to splinters with his signature grand
goremaul, the Weight of Oblivion. He’s reserved, taciturn and grim, a seasoned commander and sailor;
his smiles are rare, revealing shark teeth that bespeak his God-Blooded heritage. But inside, the Dusk
Caste burns with hatred against the Azurite Empire (Across The Eight Directions, p. XX) for a life of
bondage mining iron in the Finreefs. He dreams of provoking war with Azure, more for revenge than
justice – his broad back bears a lattice of lash scars. His loyalty to the Silver Prince, born out of gratitude,
has thus far kept his planned vengeance simmering, but as war threatens to break out, the Drowner may
finally have the opportunity he’s longed for.
When pirate Moray Darktide Exalted as a Dawn Caste Solar, the Silver Prince expected a challenge to
his authority. To his shock, the orphan from Port Jyna sailed to Onyx to declare his loyalty to Skullstone
and unwavering belief in the righteousness of the Sable Order. Since then, Captain Darktide and his
Shades have become legends as Black Fleet privateers, clashing with Sea Lords, stopping piracy, and
passing out the spoils of ocean exploration to the downtrodden. Moray is the very ideal of a Skullfolk
captain: dark, handsome, quick with his orichalcum daiklave and quicker to smile. Quietly, he’s cynical
about human nature stemming from a rough childhood, but this only fuels his zeal. For all that the Prince
is fond of Moray, the Deathlord is wary, too; Moray’s heart is with Skullstone itself, not him. Currently,
Moray’s ire is reserved for the corruption of the High Families and colonial viceroys, but the Silver Prince
has him watched at all times, wary of the day that changes.
Grim Admonition is chief among the Prince’s lictors, the Ghost-Blooded secret police in service to the
Ministry of Harmonious Divisions (p. XX). She wears the pewter half-mask that is a lictor’s badge of
office, its brow marked with a symbol sacred to the Prince. A skilled infiltrator in his own right, she has
spent her thirty years as chief personally apprenticing dozens of lictors who have now risen to prominence
among the order. The Prince allows this because Grim Admonition never weights the dice for her
apprentices — if they succeed, it is because she has a peerless cunning for cultivating talent and
discretion. Her inquisitions into the affairs of thanatocrats have left her with many puissant enemies in
Skullstone, and she now surveys her fellow lictors for her successor — and also turns her gaze upon the
Prince’s deathknights, for dark horse candidates.

Allies and Enemies

The Silver Prince cares little for his oath to the Neverborn, only pretending at piety. He enjoys games of
intrigue against the Black Heron in Stygia, appreciating her refinement and occasionally working with
her. He considers the Bishop, Lover, and Walker insufferable boors, and the Dowager a pitiable
monster.
The Prince has a measure of respect for the Lion and the Eye, admiring the former’s will and the latter’s
devotion to craft. And he utterly despises the Mask, viewing him as a pretentious upstart copying the
Prince without half his grace. Their rivalry manifests in wars of petty slights and one-upmanship in
Stygian high society.
The Bloody Poppies are a loose web of Skullstone merchants, Black Fleet officers, and viceroys (p. XX)
who seek to overthrow the Elder and Younger Councils and force the Prince to acquiesce to unrestrained
profit and conquest. Members include Gnashing Wolf, the one-eyed priest-crimelord of Remonstrance,
Shefnan Amhala, a volatile arts-patron, and spice magnate Vitya Sijapuros, who resents that she doesn’t
lead her family.
The Bloody Poppies seek a figurehead for their coup in Ishkel Menjaro. Granddaughter of Anzajji
Menjaro, First Seat of the Elder Council, Ishkel was Black Fleet admiral for centuries before leveraging
her connections to become viceroy of Murrine, a once-wealthy archipelago where she has cultivated her
own private army. Though beholden to no one, she remains a true believer in the Sable Order and isn't
averse to spreading it via swordpoint if she thinks it in her best interest.

The Walker in Darkness

The Walker in Darkness is a warrior-priest of the Neverborn and a mercenary general, selling the services
of his dreaded Company of Martial Sinners across the Scavenger Land. A creeping shadowland follows
ever at his heels, as does his familiar and constant companion, the six-headed barghest Duke Lu. He often
appears as a tall, comely man with severe orange eyes, long ashen hair, and faintly blue-tinged skin. He
wears priestly robes of crimson and black, donning a soulsteel cuirass over them before battle.
The Walker seeks out audiences with mortal princes across the Scavenger Lands, plying them with
tempting bargains, a silver tongue, and his alluring form. All the while, the Company stands ready just
beyond the city’s walls, a massed force of corpse-soldiers, murderous wraiths, and necromantic
abominations. Some among the living bargain for the Company’s services, while others yield to the
Walker’s other temptations: cures to fatal ailments, treasures and prodigies of the Underworld, and
everlasting youth. The Deathlord never fails to uphold his promises, but he’s endlessly devious, snaring
victims in pacts whose finer details elude their understanding.
Though much of the Walker’s danger lies in his words, he’s also a legendary general, leading the
Company from the frontlines, and a Void Circle necromancer. He wields Arm of Shades Below, a grand
grimcleaver that rots the flesh of those wounded by it, and the soulsteel bow Hope Refuted, a gift from
the Lover. His devotion to the Neverborn has led him to seek out knowledge of their unholy rites and
other mysteries of the Labyrinth, secrets that other Deathlords would go to great lengths to acquire.

Agenda
The Walker sees the triumph of the Neverborn whenever ambition, pride, or fear of death drive the living
to accept his damning pacts. He laughs when the so-called righteous abandon their ideals and call it
necessity, when kingdoms decay and collapse as princelings war over the scraps of power he’s offered
them. The living can’t help but succumb to venality, hypocrisy, and self-degradation. What value, then,
can life have? Such are the teachings of his obscure faith.
The Walker sees death’s chivalry as a religious creed, offering up his worship through obedient service to
his masters. Yet he has no real desire to see Creation destroyed. The realm of the living offers him foes to
battle, princes to beguile, and fools to snare in his soul-binding pacts; how could he give up his greatest
pleasures? He knows himself a hypocrite and makes strange, painful penance to the Neverborn to expiate
his guilt.
The Walker took no part in the conquest of Stygia, but insinuated himself among the conquering
Signatories of the Stygian Pact soon after their triumph. He greets their envoys and ambassadors in his
embassy-manse, the Pyramid of Venomous Malachite, and has come to exercise more power over the
Signatories than many realize.
Stygia holds little else of interest to the Walker, save for the intriguing mysteries of the Dual Monarchy,
but he prizes his foothold nonetheless. It offers him leverage in diplomatic dealings with other
Underworld powers, and leaves him well-positioned to undermine the Mask of Winters and the First and
Forsaken Lion, fellow Deathlords whose impiety has incurred the Walker’s disfavor.

The Company of Martial Sinners

The Company of Martial Sinners is a holy army of the Neverborn, a mercenary warband of the dead
sworn to the Walker’s service. Some are undead monstrosities created by the Deathlord’s necromancy;
others are Labyrinthine horrors, unworldly beasts, and elder nightmares bound to his service by pact and
spell. Then there are mercenary ghosts, Ghost-Blooded champions, necromancers, mortal soldiers of
fortune, and the occasional outcaste or Exigent. Anyone who proves their prowess in battle and swears
loyalty to the Deathlord may join the Company.
The Company’s members take masks and titles that reflect their reason for serving the Walker. The silver-
masked Avaricious Sinners’ motives are purely mercenary. The green-masked Gluttonous Sinners fight to
sate their monstrous hungers. The crimson-masked Wrathful Sinners exult in violence and martial glory.
The golden-masked Vainglorious Sinners serve only their own pride and ambition. Above all others are
the black-masked Sainted Sinners, sworn to obey the Neverborn above all else.
The Company takes to the field for anyone who pays the Walker’s price, whether defending kingdoms
from hostile neighbors, invading and occupying territories as a prelude to annexation, or besieging city-
states as a final means of diplomacy. The Martial Sinners are terrifying to behold in battle, though their
devotion to death’s chivalry lends a strange restraint to their actions. The Walker’s shadowland engulfs
the battlefield, loosing war-ghosts and stranding the living after sunset. Many who’ve hired the Company
have come to regret their choice as they survey the aftermath of battle.

Deathknights
The Walker impresses upon his Chosen the importance of their knightly role, emphasizing death’s
chivalry in every aspect of his Abyssals’ tutelage. He likewise exhorts them to uphold their vow of world-
murder, rankling at his own hypocrisy. Yet he also seeks to subtly give them reasons to cling to Creation
as he does — love, revenge, hedonism, curiosity, or whatever other motivations seem suited to an
Abyssal’s personality.
The Walker does not pact with his deathknights; beguiling and ensnaring his own Chosen would offend
the Neverborn, by his view. He’s a generous patron, offering them necromantic tutelage, their pick of the
Company’s plunder, secret knowledge of the Labyrinth, and positions of authority within the Company of
Martial Sinners or as his envoys to the Scavenger Lands or Stygia.
The Walker’s deathknights hold the highest rank in the Company of Martial Sinners, serving as the
Deathlord’s champions and honor guard. No matter an Abyssal’s talents, her prowess has a place in the
Company, whether dueling outcastes and Exigents, infiltrating enemy ranks, forging artifacts and terrible
siege weapons, raising undead hordes, or negotiating terms of surrender. But the Walker’s interests are
far-ranging; he might send a Circle to sabotage a diplomatic summit in Stygia, seek out a First Age
necromancer’s crypt-manse lost beneath the Burning Sands, or palaver with faerie princes of the Wyld.

The Ebon Spires of Pyrron

The Walker in Darkness claims no dominion in Creation or the Underworld. His seat of power lies in the
eerie dream-realm of the Ebon Spires of Pyrron. This shadowland follows in his wake as his dominion’s
outermost edge; no matter how far the Walker roams, the Spires are always with him. When his travels
bring him to cities or kingdoms, those within dream of basalt walls and crystal spires rising beyond them.
Those mortally wounded in battle see feverish visions of the domain’s toppled columns, crumbling
towers, and shattered monuments.
Here, the Walker has raised his citadel atop what was once a holy place of the Underworld, now
desecrated by his foul necromancies and forbidden blood rites. He takes his leisure among the Ebon
Spires, sipping the finest of the Scavenger Lands’ wines or admiring a rose plucked from a prince’s
garden as he surveys the ruins of paradise.
The Walker may invite guests into his dreaming dominion, but there are other ways into the Ebon Spires.
Those who see them in dreams, hallucinations, or other visions may seek them out, seeming to fade and
eventually vanish as they reappear within the dream-realm. Few are the mortals who’ve made this voyage
and survived, though the Walker’s been known to favor the persistent and the cunning with dark blessings
or a position within his Company. The way is easier for the dead, who may simply pass into it through the
Walker’s shadowland.

Allies and Enemies

The Walker judges harshly those Deathlords he deems insufficiently devoted to the Neverborn. He
considers the Frist and Forsaken Lion a traitor and the Eye and Seven Despairs a heretic, and has
grave reservations about the Silver Prince’s sincerity. His most personal enmity is against the Mask of
Winters, whose pragmatic approach to death’s chivalry offends the Walker as a hollow mockery of
devotion. As both Deathlords have concentrated their dominions in the Scavenger Lands, they’ve had
many interactions over the centuries, giving this ideological disagreement time to blossom into spiteful
hatred.
The Walker’s closest ally is the pious Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears, and his deathknights have at
times worked closely alongside hers. While he rarely interacts with the Bishop of the Chalcedony
Thurible, given the distance between him, he has a great respect for the theologian-Deathlord, but any
meaningful alliance would be complicated by the Lover’s rivalry with him. He admires the Black
Heron’s murderous service to the Neverborn, but not enough to ally with the politically diminished
Deathlord. The Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate is by far the dead titans’ most faithful servant, yet
the Walker pities her more than he admires her. He remembers who she was before the Neverborn
recreated her, and mourns her as already gone.
Some in the Mortician’s Order, the ruling body of Sijan, court the Walker as a patron. They are tempted
by his offers of forbidden death-lore and necromantic power. Others seek the Company’s both living and
dead, fearful that the Time of Tumult may see the holy ground of the City of the Dead despoiled by war.
The young Solar Jiunan Nightwarden, expelled from the Mortician’s Order after he balked at an
abhorrent tribute offered to the Walker, has sworn to defend the shadowland from the Deathlord and his
forces; the Walker, in turn, has sent messages warning of the Solar Anathema to Immaculates across the
Scavenger Lands.

Notable Followers
A cosseted aristocrat, the Intinctor of the Worm’s Chalice’s inexperience and foolhardy arrogance
proved his end in his first real battle — but since his Exaltation, the Walker has honed him into a living
weapon, tutoring him in arts better suited to his strengths. Now, the Dusk Caste is among the Company’s
paramount war-necromancers, boastfully narrating his triumphs to his undead scribe Phalange. Esteemed
as he is among the Company, his vainglory may yet prove his undoing. While the Walker is cautious in
choosing his battles, carefully weighing diplomatic implications, the ferocious Intinctor is easily
provoked into ill-considered battle.
War made an orphan of the Saint Unburdened by Pernicious Flesh and a blighted shadowland of their
home. Their upbringing by the shades of family members long dead taught them the value of ancestor
cults to both ghosts and their descendants; now, the Midnight Caste is patron and defender to such cults
throughout the Scavenger Lands. This arrangement suits the Walker for now; he values the alliances the
Saint has forged and the intermingling of the living and the dead. But in the end, the ancestor cults are but
a tool for the Deathlord; should he sacrifice or betray them, it may turn the Saint against him.
Duke Lu is the Walker’s familiar, a six-headed barghest that stands taller than the Deathlord and is
counted as one of the great beasts of the Underworld. For millennia, he has devoured the corpses of gods,
monsters, and the Exalted, seeking some elusive mystery found only in rotting flesh. Such feasting has
battened his spirit and Essence; as the Deathlords are to other ghosts, so is Duke Lu to the Underworld’s
canine shades. The Walker won the barghest-king’s friendship defending him against a Wyld Hunt sent to
end the beast’s rampaging through the Scavenger Lands; the centuries have tempered this into
unbreakable loyalty. In battle, Duke Lu’s favored place is by the Walker’s side, but he also leads the
Gluttonous Sinners, who offer up the choicest morsels of the battlefield to their commander.
Avaricious Sinner Czoki and Sainted Sinner Jakun are emissaries for the Company, wandering the
Scavenger Lands and the nearby Underworld to recruit new members, spread propaganda of the
Company’s triumphs, and negotiate contracts or terms of surrender that don’t merit a personal appearance
from the Walker. Czoki, a ribald Ghost-Blooded swordsman, handles matters of coin and speaks to the
self-interest and base desires of his audience. Jakun, a hungry ghost enlightened by centuries of
meditation, spreads the Walker’s creed and makes appeals to morality, ideology, and politics. The two are
lovers more often than not and know each other’s every quirk and foible; they occasionally make a game
of exchanging masks and passing themselves off as the other.

Other Deathlords
Nine Deathlords are known throughout the Underworld, but this may not be a complete telling of their
names and natures. Storytellers and players are explicitly invited to add to their number, inventing new
Deathlords of their own design to serve as Abyssal patrons, allies of desperation, or world-ending
antagonists.
Integrating a new Deathlord begins with either creating space for them in the current tableau of the
Underworld, or explaining why they’ve been absent from its politics at large.
Making a Deathlord an established part of the setting often requires moving pieces around the board to
create space for them. Where are they operating out of in the Underworld and in Creation? Which
Deathlords and other powerbrokers are in that same region? What are their relations like? What have they
accomplished over the centuries — from projects as grand as the Bishop’s cultivation of the Shining Way
to small victories such as the Heron’s consolidation of major Stygian crime syndicates.
In contrast, there are many reasons why a Deathlord might only just be stepping into the spotlight. They
might have their redoubt in a particularly distant or isolated location, operate through a puppet-state, or
else disguise themselves as a lesser power to deflect unwanted attention. When they reveal themselves
and take to the stage, the question becomes: Who knew beforehand? How have they prepared? And what
opportunity finally provoked them?

Deathlords and Abyssal Charms

Each Deathlord exerts a terrible gravity upon the Essence of the Underworld,
embodying and defining major archetypes for their deathknights to emulate (and
in time, surpass). Abyssal Charms sometimes draw on these themes, such as
Resistance reflecting the torture-armor that constrains the First and Forsaken Lion,
or Sail’s reputation-spreading Charms which are rooted in the influence of the
Silver Prince.
Inventing a wholly new Deathlord opens additional thematic space for Abyssal
Charms. Some Abilities currently include influence from only a single Deathlord,
making them particularly fruitful areas to explore with : Archery, Brawl,
Investigation, Larceny, Melee, Ride, Resistance, Sail, and Thrown.
Storytellers and players wishing to design new Abyssal Charms can also
innovate new Deathlords, with or without fleshing them out entirely. A
player developing a Charm to slowly consume a foe’s power might suggest
a vague rumor about a Deathlord in the form of a parasitic fungal-wraith,
which they can develop further as an inspiration for additional Charms or
as a character in the chronicle itself.

Opportunities
While the details of any additional or alternative Deathlords are left firmly for each play group to decide
for themselves, there are some ripe opportunities that are worth mentioning:
• The Dreaming Sea, in all its eldritch mystery, might be a fruitful place for a Deathlord’s domain
in Creation. The region is home to all manner of ancient powers and ruined empires which could serve as
a smokescreen for the Deathlord’s unholy power, or provide ample opportunities to consolidate resources.
• The Blessed Isle was once the greatest capital of the First Age, and perhaps there is a Deathlord
who will not abandon it, despite the challenges such a domain provokes. They would contend with the
region’s lack of shadowlands and the might of its Immaculate exorcists, forcing them to act with either
infinite subtlety and restraint, or else to robe themselves in false piety, subverting the Shogunate and
Realm with heretical cults or offering ambitious Dragon-Blooded ghosts the opportunity to cling to
existence in exchange for their service.
• A reclusive Deathlord might have been trapped within their domain, either by the senseless
thrashing of the Neverborn or the efforts of heroic mortals, ghosts, or Exalted. An imprisoned Deathlord
might have spent centuries recuperating within a cursed sepulcher, spreading their influence as within the
nightmares of surrounding polities, or weaving a terrible geomantic corruption that will see them released
from their cage with catastrophic effects for the Underworld and Creation alike. The terrible being
beneath Capstone is one candidate for such a story, with the help of their cultists in nearby Darkheart.
• Existing ghostly potentates may be “promoted” to Deathlord status for a particular chronicle. This
provides more material to work with in conceptualizing their themes, ambitions, and goals, which can be
scaled up to afford them greater influence on the Underworld and Creation. The Signatories of the
Stygian Pact (p. XX) are prime candidates for this, as are other ghostly powerbrokers like the Sovereign
of Chains (p. XX).
• While the Deathlords are the ghosts of the Usurpation — among Creation’s deadliest events —
others may have pacted centuries after. A powerful Dragon-Blooded or Sidereal ghost slain as part of the
Great Contagion might have sold their soul to the Neverborn for power even as they plot revenge against
the Dowager, or a mighty Lunar hewn down as part of the Fair Folk invasion might now have set their
sights on spreading the calcifying touch of death across the Wyld, leading their deathknights in a crusade
that risks setting off a new invasion.
• The Exalted weren’t the only being touched by the Usurpation. Many of Creation’s non-human
civilizations fell en masse during the protracted war that followed the initial strike, and others like the
ghosts of certain powerful Niobrarians were conscripted into the Usurpation as participants even in death.
Perhaps the rare ghost of a Dragon King emperor, grieving the ill-spent lives of their fallen people, now
sits atop a throne of bone and crystal, plotting revenge on humanity and its Exalted paragons. One of the
Niobrarians — perhaps even the towering wraith of a fallen Spoken — might also have taken a
Deathlord’s mantle, dredging the corpses of their kin from where the sea has long preserved them in
shadow and muck before breathing the gift of un-life into them.
Chapter 3: The Underworld
The Underworld should not be.
Before the first ancient was slain in the Divine Usurpation, there were only the cleansing waters
of the River Lethe and the formless Sea of Shadows. The fallen ancients who became the
Neverborn birthed the Underworld in their agonies, shattering the orderly mechanisms that had
until that time ensured that souls passed from one life to the next in a gentle and uninterrupted
cycle. The first isles and continents rose from their corpses, vast landscapes built from a
foundation of grief.
Since that time, the Underworld has accreted itself, islands rising and shifting according to the
enigmatic Old Laws of death and the tectonic forces of living memory and ritual. Ghosts strand
themselves upon its bleak shores to seize hold of a semblance of life. Some luxuriate in palatial
splendor, sated by the reverence of grateful descendants; others dwell in wretched afterlives of
toil or torment.
This is the Underworld: Gravestone kingdoms and their undead tyrants, vistas of heartbreaking
beauty and heart-seizing terror, passions which blaze hot enough to burn even in death…and yet,
doomed to diminish in the fullness of time. Here are told the stories of the dead — ghostly
potentates, corpse-behemoths, and the Abyssal champions who topple thrones or forge undying
empires.

Denizens of the Underworld

The Underworld is a dead land, but not an empty one. It is home to dead beings of manifold
variety, potency, and age, from the weary ghost of yesterday’s slaughter to nameless millennial
shades, dead before history’s oldest tome was writ.

Ghosts
To understand the Underworld, one must understand the ghosts who inhabit it. It is a truth known
across Creation that death is not always the end. Most mortals may go their entire lives without
seeing a single shade, but not a one doubts that ghosts walk the world at night, in the shadows, or
in the lands of the dead.
Nature
A ghost is not the person it seems to be; it is a remnant, a reflection, a relic. Most mortal souls
pass from life into reincarnation without leaving a ghost, but some tarry, resisting the pull of
Lethe. It may be that their death was sudden, violent, wrong; but other times, they may be
tethered to undeath by the call of duty, a quest for personal enlightenment, or a lover’s fierce
desire to express their literally undying feelings one last time. While some deaths may
predispose a soul to cling to existence and identity, there are no guarantees — sometimes a soul
unjustly murdered passes easily to its repose, and other times a contented farmer’s shade lingers
to enact a centuries-long pantomime of their laboring life.
The term ghost usually refers specifically to the shade left from the tattered remnants of a being’s
higher soul, which is the seat of their memory and identity. Remnants of the lower soul are
instead hungry ghosts; rather than being drawn to the Underworld, they usually lodge in their
own corpse, emerging at night to feed their mindless appetites for carnage.
A ghost is not made of flesh and blood, but of corpus: Spiritual matter made tangible in the
Underworld. In Creation, ghostly corpus is intangible and may be injured or destroyed by
exposure to sunlight. Those who travel the lands of the living do so at night, and even then,
require magic to interact with the physical world, either to solidify their corpus or to possess a
corpse or host.
Newly formed ghosts typically resemble their living selves, though many have exaggerated
deathmarks that accentuate the manner of their passing. A drowned man may drip forever with
brine and trail clutching seaweed, a mother slain by fever might radiate heat like a bonfire, and a
hanged murderer might find the noose around their neck as much a part of their spiritual body as
any other appendage.
These changes tend to grow more notable as a ghost waxes in age and power. Whether they
elongate into willowy giants, twist their faces in the snarling rictus of a jaguar-devil, or replace
their skin with strips of talismanic paper, the dead take many forms to emphasize what they hold
fast to from life — and what they have already surrendered to oblivion. Others don masks to
replace faces eroded by time, or to signal that they have moved beyond their mortal life and have
claimed a new identity in death.
Ghosts do not have the same physical needs as the living, but they have powerful memories of
those needs. A ghost who goes without food will not starve, but her corpus may wither as hunger
becomes her all-consuming thought; the same is true of water, and of sleep, and of connection,
and of all the other mortal necessities. When the ghost-farmers of long-vanished Ptar harvest
grain alongside the Styx to make bread and beer for Stygian worthies, it is not because starvation
will unmake them, but because the lucky ghosts who consume these will derive pleasure from
texture and taste, and alleviate the memory of hunger.
Passions
None endure death’s cold touch unchanged. It is a simple truth that when one dies, things are left
behind — memories, feelings, and ambitions fade and ebb. What endures in a ghost are often
only the most powerful aspects of their identity, now magnified by the loss of lesser drives: A
ghost who clings to the thread of revenge might retain her wrath but lose much of her joy, while
one fettered to existence by a bodyguard’s vow of eternal service might forget other oaths, or the
pride of fatherhood, or his skill at poetry. Few ghosts are wholly without nuance, for death is
likely to leave bits and pieces that the ghost must fit together into a new identity, but they are
always changed.
Many ghosts lose themselves in emulation of the patterns they once lived by: Masons raise
building of unearthy stone, vintners bottle wines tinged with beautiful regret, artisans and
performers hone their craft, and bureaucrats file truly ceaseless paperwork in the offices of
Underworldly brokers. Others lose themselves to whichever passions dominate their patchwork
identity — a humble farmer slain by a callous warlord might become a vengeful assassin,
defining himself through a single moment of pain, blood, and regret.
Regardless of what anchors a ghost to their unlife, these passions give them shape and purpose.
Most will seek any opportunity to indulge themselves, transforming Underworld societies into
operatic passion plays. A courtier’s ghost needs to gossip and intrigue, and a warrior’s needs to
test themselves against superior opponents. These urges are stronger even than the echoes of
their physical needs; given a choice between sating passion or hunger, most ghosts will gladly
choose passion.
Veneration
Cultures throughout Creation know to honor the dead. Rites protect against the rise of hungry
ghosts, speed ancestors to peaceful reincarnation, or fortify ghosts with phantom wealth and
power. Sacrifices symbolic of worldly goods — paper treasures, clay coins, and costume armor
— often manifest in the Underworld as valuable gifts, made luxurious by the sweet reverence of
the living.
These offerings manifest subtly and irregularly, thought to be dictated by the interplay of the Old
Laws and the Calendar of Setesh. Most ghosts can expect sacrifices to appear somewhere
between a day and a week after they are rendered; those with homes often find offerings simply
appearing in their cupboards and storehouses, while those without often wake from slumber with
new tokens arrayed around them or secreted on their person.
A meager offering of half-vinegar wine at a family shrine may sometimes be richer than even the
finest vintages of Kesundang when the sacrifice is imbued with difficulty, sincerity, and
meaning. Some of that quality extends to the work of ghostly artisans; prayer flows through their
hands into the swords they forge and the bread they bake, granting surpassing and even
supernatural quality.
The greatest of the gifts of the living are grave goods — those things interred alongside the dead
in their original funeral. These grave goods appear with the ghost at the moment of their
awakening, and which are bound to them by the Old Laws; they cannot be stolen except by
powerful magic, though they may be traded, gifted, or taken by force under threat of destruction.
Humble offerings given with care, long-practiced ritual, and good fortune can become beauteous
panoplies endowed with wondrous qualities, from ever-burning candles to teapots which steep
their brew in the taste of daydreams. It is not unknown for artifacts and similar treasures to
emerge from particularly generous, mourned, or powerful tombs, and many an undead hero or
ruler’s ascent to greater glory after death has been aided by grave good wonders they could have
never wielded in life
Ancestor-cults are common throughout Creation. The gods are often distant and strange in their
motivations, but powerful ancestral ghosts are viscerally human, even when distorted by death.
These cults may arise when a beloved matriarch becomes powerful in death through prayer, or
when such a ghost rises to power themselves and offers their patronage to descendants. In the
best cases, these cults offer meaning to ghosts and protection to their worshippers; in the worst,
they become extortion rackets or dysfunctional families where the long-dead exact the standards
of another age upon great-grandchildren without allowance for context or change.
 Grave Goods and Tomb Robbing
Plundering a grave is perilous, even for a pious descendant. Taking a grave
good from its resting place endangers its echo in the Underworld, and
ghosts can often sense those who disturb their resting places and seize their
beloved treasures. Many cultures which inter powerful weapons and tools
also develop rites to mitigate these situations.
In the icy climes of Lastlight, warriors offer their own blood and swear
oaths in an ancestor’s name so a barrow-blade may be brought forth to
serve the next generation. The women of Ajatmir contact their
grandmothers in psychedelic trances, begging for the use of enshrined jade
armor for a particular task or quest. These borrowers sometimes become
the true owners of an artifact when an ancestor passes into Lethe or
relinquishes her claim; other times, those who wish to borrow a direlance
of particular renown must convince several generations of former wielders
as to their suitability, offering recompense and veneration to each in turn.
Magic
Ghosts are creatures of deathly Essence, and their many strange magics are spoken of throughout
Creation, known to both rough superstition and attentive scholarship. Savants living and dead
sometimes speak of these varied powers as the spirit arts, a catch-all term for mystical abilities
both natural and learned. A newly-formed peasant’s shade may have a trick or two to terrifying
the living with cursed nightmares or a blood-chilling grasp, but puissant and enlightened ghosts
may develop a knack for possessing the bodies of the living and dead, or the gift of moliation by
which they may permanently reshape ghostly corpus. They may lay blessings and curses, change
their forms, glimpse dire prophecies, or spew forth pyreflame, to name only a handful of
miracles. These powers often arise from a ghost’s personality, nature, and the manner of their
death, growing more potent and esoteric as they refine their Essence.
Some paths to ghostly power echo those of the living: training, meditation, and secret lore may
all deepen a ghost’s spiritual potency. Others grow strong on prayer and sacrifice, or steal power
from ghosts bound into their service, or conduct blasphemous rites to the Neverborn. Still others
defy explanation, singular prodigies who rise from the grave with inexplicable powers and
epiphanies.
Ghosts of the Exalted and other powerful beings often retain vestiges of their former gifts. These
are not their lost Charms, but reflections of them seen through the dark mirror of the
Underworld: A Solar may glow with the wan light of a paler sun, while his Lunar mate’s ghost
may still flit between a dozen haunted shapes. They are far from the only ghosts of great and
terrible power, however, and those who lived and died as mortals sometimes begrudge the ghosts
of the Chosen, keeping them from dominating Underworldly politics through diplomacy,
intrigue, and war.
Powerful ghosts sometimes craft miracles from soulsteel — a magical material that alloys rare
Underworld ores with anguished souls. Veins of this cursed metal sometimes form in afterlives
where natural forces compress and temper the screaming souls of the damned, but the vast
majority is deliberately made in mausoleum-foundries. Ghosts forged into soulsteel exist in
perpetual agony, though this may take many forms; many forge-saints attest that heartbreak,
wrath, and tragedy all impart a unique resonance to their grim treasures. Many ghosts shy from
soulsteel, which is seen as the mark of those Underworld powerbrokers without scruples or
mercy; others seize upon these wonders, reasoning that true torment is to leave those souls in
agony without use or meaning.
An Imperfect Immortality
Forever is a very long time, and even the dead may die. If destroyed by daylight or violence,
weak ghosts are often utterly unmade, their tatters either falling into nonexistence or passing into
reincarnation. Those with particularly powerful passions or ardent worshippers may reform as
spirits sometimes do, rebuilding their corpus over a period of days, years, or centuries. These
ghosts often return having lost something of themselves, whether a single memory or their
lifelong love for a cherished spouse.
When a ghost’s passions gutter out like flames starved of fuel or the ties that bind them to
existence fray and break, they risk spiritual collapse. As a ghost loses the things that anchor
them, the call of Lethe grows louder and louder, and sooner or later, all ghosts succumb. Their
corpus evanesces as they rejoin the cycle of reincarnation. Others, stricken with ennui, give
themselves to the Labyrinth and, in its darkest precincts, vanish into nonexistence.
Only ghosts who tie themselves to truly eternal tasks can endure across ages, but even those aims
may not sustain them forever. Ancient ghosts jealously guard the objects, societies, and
bloodlines which give them purpose beyond the turning of millennia. Much of the ebb and flow
of power in the Underworld has turned on these precious anchors, with century-long duels to
seize hold of baubles that serve no purpose except to anchor a hated foe’s existence.
There is a slow turnover in the Underworld as ghosts fade away. Many afterlives boast shrines
and temples whose purpose is long forgotten, but which the remaining dead still care for by rote.
Underworldly empires may outlast their founding dynasties, their usurpers, and the usurpers of
their usurpers. The Underworld is not a record of Creation’s past, but a place where things of
Creation’s past go to wither, to change, to become something else until only a shadow of what
was remains.

Other Denizens
While mortal ghosts predominate throughout the Underworld, they are not its only inhabitants.
Phantom Beasts
Few are the animals who leave a true ghost, or even a hungry ghost — such shades come
primarily from familiars whose souls are entwined with their human masters, forming an anchor
in death. The wild fauna of the Underworld are not ghosts as such, but rather they are reflections,
the Underworld’s Essence giving shape to the memories of its ghostly inhabitants.
Savants have a hundred names for these creatures, but most can be translated as something akin
to phantom beasts. They are part of the environment of the Underworld, enacting simple urges
and instincts: A vast boar with blood-matted fur seeks to kill those who enter its stomping
grounds, stately vesper-wolves bay paeans to the worthy dead, and pyre-maggots seek out
blazing hearts where they may fester and flourish.
Ghosts hunt, fear, and domesticate these phantom beasts in mimicry of living animals. These
creatures’ innate connection to the geomancy of the Underworld means that few flourish beyond
their natural environment, but enterprising shepherds and husbands have rituals and spirit arts by
which they may tame horses of consolidated grief or memory-devouring buzzards for sale to
ambitious collectors.
Specters
Specters were ghosts. To scholars, they still are, but the dead do not claim them. They fear them,
shun them, flee from them when they can and propitiate them when they must, for specters are
those desperate and despondent ghosts who have been twisted by the influence of the Neverborn.
Some fall into this sad fate through a spiritual malaise that opens them to the dark whispers that
emanate from the depths of the Underworld’s deepest fundament; others seek out the Neverborn
of their own accord, sacrificing ever-greater parts of themselves in exchange for power.
And power they receive, for specters glut themselves on the gory font of the Neverborn. Their
Essence quickens, their spirit arts deepen, and they realize shattered insights into necromancy
and other secret lore. Some sip at this power carefully, walking a knife’s edge to try and retain a
semblance of their mortal reasoning and motivations. Others drink greedily, losing themselves in
ecstasy and horror.
The latter become the nephwracks, high-priests of the Neverborn. Specters are dangerous beings,
distorted by power, but the nephwracks are utterly lost souls. Little remains of their original
identity, and even those scraps are warped to the service of the dead architects of reality.
It is a small mercy to the Underworld at large that specters often content themselves as petty
kings, and nephwracks rarely find cause to leave the Labyrinth. On the dark days when they do
ride through the lands of the dead, all but the greatest ghostly heroes sense the coming of
something more terrible than death itself.
Behemoths
As in Creation, the behemoths of the Underworld are manifold and impossibly varied. It is a
catch-all category that vexes scholars and sages who aspire to a more discrete taxonomy. Many
are the congealed remnants and tattered organ-souls of the Neverborn, given nightmarish form
bereft of purpose. Others are shadows of cultures, cities, and even concepts whose spiritual
residue had enough gravity to form something not unlike a ghost — sentient wars that reenact
themselves by possessing the dead, or cruel plays which seize unwilling souls for their
performers and audience alike. Still others simply are: The leviathan Umaza has never lived, and
yet she is undeniably born of death’s dark allure; the walking-temple of The Peregrination is the
impossible dream of ghostly pilgrims given form.
Prehuman Ghosts
Humans are not the only mortal creatures to tarry in the Underworld, though they are the vast
majority. Shades from many servitor-species created by the ancients may be found in their
afterlife enclaves or upon the cosmopolitan streets of Stygia. They are looming, ghostly gigantes
of Epoch; the aquatic inhabitants of the fallen Niobrarian League; or the seven-eyed ascetics of
Xo.
The most common of the prehuman ghosts are those of the Dragon Kings. Though bound to a
unique system of reincarnation, their souls sometimes linger in the Underworld, especially with
their living population whittled to a fraction of what it once was. They command several
Underworld strongholds, from the Nineteen-Gates Road to the city of Durance, where crystal
spires slowly crack under the weight of ghost vines heavy with ashen flowers.
The Neverborn
The Neverborn define the Underworld. Their tormented, fitful slumber gave it shape and
structure; their agonies fill its ambiguous skies with storms of lightning and sorrow. In the
deepest part of the Labyrinth, they languish in their own tomb-bodies, praying for a relief that
can never come, for death was never meant to contain or dissolve beings of such vast scope and
spiritual puissance. They are neither alive nor dead nor undead; all that they are is suffering.
The Exalted
The Abyssals are the Underworld’s truest Chosen, filled as they are with death’s own Essence,
but they are not the only Exalted entangled with the lands of the dead. Throughout the First Age,
Exalted heroes have plumbed the Underworld in search of its secrets. The fabled Black Nadir
Concordat penetrated places of power steeped in the darkness of the Neverborn and the mystery-
sanctums of the Old Laws in their search for power. Those Chosen with a gift for necromancy
often dwelled within the Underworld to immerse themselves in its strange lessons, or to raise up
kingdoms of blood and bone.
Even in the Second Age, some Exalts still keep redoubts in the Underworld. More than one
shahan-ya maintains a Lunar enclave there, and the Bureau of Destiny’s Divisions of Secrets and
Endings both record useful routes for Sidereal agents to travel. The half-living Exigent known as
the Barrow Prince owns townhouses in Stygia, Dari, and other cities of the dead, trading tales
from Creation for the wisdom of the dead.
The Liminal Exalted do not call the Underworld home, but they are frequent visitors, driven by
the distant urging of their Dark Mother to enforce the boundaries between life and death. Those
who spend significant time there often do so to keep tabs on particularly dangerous ghosts,
keeping them in check lest they consolidate power enough to invade the realm of the living. At
least one is counted as an honorary gondolier of the Transcendent Way; he seeks not merely to
hunt or exorcise his ghostly quarry, but to guide them to accept Lethe’s gentle call.

The Land of the Dead

The Underworld drowns in endless dark water. Black oceans stretch between and beyond the
furthest horizons, lapping at the shores of crumbling kingdoms reenacting the centuries-old
deaths of their civilizations. Rivers of rushing shadow curl around palaces of bone and the fields
of endlessly toiling dead they overlook. Travelers seek passage across the vast lakes and
bottomless sounds, reckoning their journeys according to the Underworld’s strange rules of
distance, direction, and correspondence.
In this dead realm, ghosts cling to a semblance of life amidst a land of memory and ritual. Some
dwell in their afterlives of wistful contentment or abject sorrow; others build upon the
Underworld’s dark soil, forging civilizations and city-states. The souls of the dead are forever
striving to carve eternity into a more pleasing shape, whether seizing power over the roving
bandits of a salt-blasted mesa or raising cities of basalt and obsidian.
In the First Age, the shades of those who died in the Divine Revolution and the growing glories
of the following era made their first great societies: The steady-handed dynasties of the Five
Scarab-Kings, the funereal fleets of the Million Hands Trade Network, and the first council of
the Eemi who dwelled beneath the Underworld’s black waters. The city-state of Stygia was built
upon the mouth of the River Styx, and its Dual Monarch rulers brought a semblance of stable
time to the lands of the dead with the Calendar of Setesh.
Greatest of these polities all was the Rotting Lotus Empire, whose necromancer-queens bound
one another in powerful oaths of alliance and fealty. In time, it dared to oppose the living
empires of the Chosen, ruling client-states in Creation from shadowland citadels. Bitter, brutal
war with the Exalted decimated the empire and its allies; the dead would influence the living
only gently, if at all. Ancestor cults like the Sleeping Dragons forbade their ghost-blooded scions
from positions of power, and the Grandmother Councils of the Asphodel Isles possessed their
warrior-descendants to lead them in battle only on the rarest occasions.
The Usurpation filled the Underworld with the restless dead of both sides of the conflict. The rise
of the Immaculate Philosophy in its wake saw a contraction in the populations of many
afterlives; no other faith had ever been so widely successful in encouraging souls to pass directly
into Lethe. Where the Immaculates held power, ancestor cults waned in influence and authority,
and the flow of worship slowed to a trickle. The ghosts of the Shogunate often appeared in the
Underworld bereft of grave goods, turning warrior-princes into paupers.
The Great Contagion filled the Underworld with an unfathomable torrent of the plague-dead.
Apocalyptic storms, ladders of foul lightning, and bilious floods destroyed afterlives and polities
alike, before the Labyrinth belched forth murderous specters in greater number than had ever
been seen. Ancient civilizations like the Principality of the Ring and the Agate Millennium
crumbled, and those places that endured did so on the twin bedrocks of good fortune and ghostly
heroism.
In the centuries since, polities spared the worst of the Contagion’s upheaval have entered a
period of rebuilding, conquest, and consolidation. The Empire of Aki and Acheron League
dominate a wide swath of the eastern Sea of Shadows, taking colony after colony until their
territories now have only a scant few buffer states between them unclaimed — a perilous
situation kept from erupting into war only by delicate political maneuvering. The Eternal
Emerald Shogunate is the rare state to have risen where the Contagion’s storms hit worst, first as
a refuge for the disposed plague-dead of the Contagion and then as a power in its own right,
dominating the very city-states that had turned away its ghostly citizens when they wept at the
gates for help, home, and comfort.
The slow influence of the Deathlords has also grown over that period as they further crystallized
their influence throughout the Underworld, whether in the Silver Prince’s hegemony over lesser
powers like the Lacrimal Hexarchs to the Bishop’s Shining Way rising to prominence in Stygia.
Now, the Mask’s conquest has set the Underworld aflame with rumors of the Deathlords and the
true scope of their ambitions — rumors made all the more dire by the appearance of their
Abyssal vassals.
The eldest of these deathknights have had five years to make names for themselves as warrior-
heroes, necromantic savants, and ruthless powerbrokers. Few in the Underworld understand their
true nature, or appreciate the scope of their potential; in the age to come, their deeds shall echo
through the lands of the dead to shake the halls of power and the tombs of the Neverborn alike.

Timeline of the Underworld

The Beginning of Time The waters of Lethe wash clean the souls of the
dead, preparing them for reincarnation
The Divine Revolution The corpses of the slain ancients become the
Neverborn, forming the foundation of the Underworld
Early First Age The earliest ghostly civilizations and polities arise in
the Underworld
Early First Age The Rotting Lotus Empire is formed in a network of
oaths between twelve ghostly queens
Middle First Age The Black Nadir Concordat begins its expeditions
into the Underworld and the Labyrinth
Middle First Age Stygia is founded by its Mansions, and the Dual
Monarchs construct the Calendar of Setesh
Late First Age The Rotting Lotus Empire is destroyed by the might of the
living Exalted in the War of Extirpation
Fall of the Shogunate The Grand Tempest wracks the Underworld storms
of the plague-dead slain by the Great Contagion
Aftermath of the Contagion Stygia is conquered by the armies of the
Stygian Pact
RY 109 The Sovereign of Chains rises to prominence in Dari of the Mists,
overshadowing his rivals with binding oaths and burdensome debts.
RY 282 The thearchs of Great Forks force the Black Heron to abandon her
fastness in the Field of Endless Raitons
RY 489 The ghost-hero Aki disappears; in her absence, the Council of
Royals rises to govern the Empire of Aki, beginning a campaign of
expansion against the Acheron League.
RY 615 The Lacrimal Hexarchs declare fealty to the Silver Prince, securing
 his Underworld holdings from their last internal rival.
RY 763 The first of the Abyssal Exalted emerge as vassals to the Deathlords
RY 764 The Mask of Winters seizes Thorns, revealing the scope of the
Deathlords’ power to the Underworld
RY 768 The present day.

Nature
The Underworld drowns in endless water. Black oceans stretch between and beyond the furthest
horizons, lapping at the shores of crumbling kingdoms reenacting the century old-deaths of their
civilizations. Lightless tributaries curl around palaces of shining bone and the fields of eternally
toiling dead they overlook. Travelers seek passage across the vast rivers and bottomless sounds,
reckoning by the Underworld’s own strange rules of distance, direction, and correspondences.
Although the Underworld is dominated by its dark waters, it still has isles, mountains, deserts —
and the vast Stygian archipelago, the closest thing to a continent in size. It is difficult to speak of
true distance where the Underworld is concerned, for it is an ambiguous place, subject to erosion
and delusion and mystery. The best of its maps — such as those drafted by the Geometer’s
Daughters (p. XX) — concern themselves less with absolute distance and more with correlation,
illustrating the ways that certain afterlives and other Underworldly locales relate to one another
with useful lies about the intervening countryside to satisfy mortal minds.
The Underworld is not a reflection of Creation, but an echo. Its northern climes are not
Creation’s North; its southern latitudes are not the South. Nonetheless, cultural ties do provide
some touchstones with Creation — the honored dead of the Eskari (Lunars, p. 85) and their
Khaztun neighbors inhabit ghostly isles that are never more than a day’s journey from one
another, and the afterlives of the Saltspire League stand along the strange banks of a trench
where flows a river of salt and sand. Shadowlands (p. XX) likewise tend to stabilize Creation’s
relationship to the Underworld, drawing associated afterlives towards one another in either
sudden upheaval or slow, tectonic drift.
Travel and trade throughout the Underworld combine practical difficulties with mystical ones.
Bereft of stable stars or predictable trade winds, ghostly sailors develop other means of charting
their course, whether following in the wake of phantom leviathans, piloting their ships under the
auspice of oracular trances, or reconciling the movements of the Calendar of Setesh with local
geomancy. Whether travelers go by land or by sea, they know to be cautious of the Underworld’s
perilous environs, and wary of the raiders and behemoths who waylay merchants, pilgrims, and
heroes.
Those who brave these challenges have much to gain. Some do so in search of resources and
treasure, like the blood-apples of Egir which renders corpus youthful and faintly luminous.
Others attempt to escape some wretched afterlife, but often find that the same Old Laws that sent
them there conspire to draw them back there whenever the opportunity arises. Polities like
Stygian and Dari of the Mist rise to prominence from their mastery of trade routes and ability to
exert their power over neighbors; in this way, the land of the dead is not so different from that of
the living.
There is neither day nor night as Creation recognizes it. Pockmarks of dead stars pit the face of a
quiet sky one moment, while something crumbling and massive casts a shadow across the
surface of the Underworld another. The dead who consider the passage of time have no true sun
or moon with which to keep their count. What order exists in the Underworld’s sky is due to the
Calendar of Setesh, a marvel created by the Dual Monarchy (p. XX). Thanks to that nigh
immortal working, the dead can trust that a period of light will follow a period of dark, that
evening and dawning stars will shine and then slip below the horizon even as the rest of the sky
follows older, stranger law.
The Underworld’s weather follows its own dictates, masses of motionless, bloated clouds
refusing to give forth either rain or glimpses of any space beyond while sapphire winds buffet
another unliving precinct, leaving drifts of softly glowing dust. Sometimes, pallid smears of
leprous color offer diffuse, unwholesome light to the dead and rare living visitors below. Other
times, auroras of rich, deep color spill strange hues onto the lands and shades beneath them.
Rarely, there is no evidence of sky at all — instead an upward expanse without trace of hue,
depth, or difference.
Creation’s elements have their dark mirrors in the fundament of the Underworld, seen through its
dark lens: The winds may howl with the screams of anguished specters, and fire burns in an array
of unnatural colors, each marking a certain appetite. The most dangerous of these is pyreflame, a
sickly gray-green fire which needs no fuel and consumes flesh, corpus, and soul alike.

The Old Laws

Before there was an Underworld, there were the Old Laws. They subtly
govern its shape, function, and Essence. No savant has ever mapped them
to anyone’s satisfaction, but their effects are well-known: It is the Old Laws
which sort the dead to their afterlives; the Old Laws which govern the
natural magics of the Underworld; the Old Laws which call the dead to
their final repose in Lethe’s waters.
But the Old Laws are broken as the Underworld itself is, damaged by the
fall of the Neverborn and the magnitude of their suffering. It is the interplay
between these overwhelming forces which empowers the chivalry of death
(p. XX). Where the influence of the Neverborn is strongest, the Old Laws
recede, their mysterious order giving way to suffering and chaos.
It is a curiosity to those few Abyssals who have studied the Old Laws that
their Essence can resonate with these unfathomably ancient axioms. They
are not alone in this; many strange Underworld prodigies seem to embody
fragments of the Old Laws, from Emma Sarripad of Kesundang to the
enigmatic being known only as the Dark Mother, whose faint, wordless
murmuring can be heard sometimes echoing from rich, black loam.

Afterlives
Throughout the Underworld there are thousands of enclaves where ghosts are drawn together by
either the enigmatic properties of death’s Essence or the binding power of cultural rites. When
mortals speak of an afterlife, these are the places they mean, and savants reckon them as either
primeval afterlives or ritual afterlives, according to their origin and nature.
Primeval afterlives are places formed by the Underworld’s natural processes. They resonate with
a facet of death, calling to those ghosts who share in that place’s nature as a lighthouse beckons
its fisherfolk back to shore. Those who die without the benefits of their culture’s rites, or who die
particularly charged deaths, find their ghosts forming here among kindred souls who met a
similar end. Those who perish searching for food for their loved ones find themselves in hollow
realms with their ever-ravenous brethren, that demise echoing across Creation’s breadth and
history. The Mansions of Stygia (p. XX) are among the most widely-known of these primeval
afterlives, but countless examples can be found throughout the Underworld.
Ritual afterlives are shaped by living cultures for their dead through burial rites, funerary
practice, and veneration. The rituals and attention of the living, imbued with the collective
weight of generations, slowly change the Underworld, stirring invisible currents which carve
afterlives from cold stone, raise new islands from black waters, and draw wayward souls to their
long-dreamt ancestral home. In these places, paper houses burnt on holy pyres become long-
standing mansions, and rough cairns of painted stone become prismatic glory-halls. Stories from
the dead make their way back to living descendants, forming a virtuous cycle that strengthens the
foundations of their afterlife — but sometimes also mortars it with new fears and anxieties. Even
the worst and most wretched of these afterlives may have a certain appeal: Better to eat ashes
with one’s forebearers in a familiar hell than to venture into the formless dark of a foreign world.
The many afterlives of the Underworld exert a strange gravity upon the ghosts who form there.
Even the greatest savants of the First Age could not explain why a ghost buried in extravagant
ritual might find herself form in a primeval afterlife far from the lands of her foremothers, or
why a fisherman’s shade might find himself in one of the realms of the drowned dead rather than
any of the others.

The Labyrinth
Beneath, between, and throughout the Underworld winds the Labyrinth, a twisting warren whose
tendrils stretch across its length and breadth. It is mutable even by the Underworld’s standards,
changing and reshaping itself according to chaotic whim and inscrutable pattern. It has its own
mind and its own malice, infected by the troubled dreams of the Neverborn whose tomb-bodies
reside in its uttermost depths.
Time itself stretches and compresses within, leading many a strategist or tyrant to dream of
stealing a march on their opposition, perhaps with an army that arrives moments after being sent.
Space is equally uncertain, and cartographers and explorers stand to gain a satrap’s ransom in
payment if their maps of stable passages and warnings of hazards remain accurate long enough.
More than anything else, the Labyrinth is known for the terrible sound of the Whispers, which
beguile those who hear them with the promises and ravenings of the Neverborn. Even a husk
hidden away in the most isolated sepulcher will have moments when their secret thoughts are
intruded upon by the Whispers. Ghosts who have surrendered to their negative emotions or been
eroded away by time and ennui find themselves especially drawn to these inchoate murmurings,
which grow ever louder and clearer as they walk the Labyrinth.
Those who have begun to lose themselves to the Whispers are labeled specters by those who
look upon them with fear, derision, or pity. Worst and greatest among them are the nephwracks,
specters anointed to the Neverborn as their high-priests; these abhorrences seek out omens,
ciphers, and other signals buried within the noise, each believing themselves the sole prophet of
the Neverborn. They gather congregations of eager specters with their wild-eyed charisma and
necromantic might, erecting grand edifices and undertaking unthinkably ambitious projects with
the zeal of those who have long ago cast off the last shreds of morality and self-doubt.
Still, the rewards of navigating the Labyrinth outweigh the risks — or are tantalizing enough to
appear to. The dead hunger for sensation and catharsis, and as the passages shift and mutate, new
wonders and terrors that promise to fill the void within them are constantly revealed. Jade-Eye
Kirin was called down into the dark by the voice of her youngest son, and for some time she
allowed herself to ignore the other voices that joined the chorus. Khalm of the Forsaken Skies
infiltrated a dread specter’s treasure hoard, but was surrounded by automatons of moss-crusted
coral when she seized a tome bound in human leather. Ten Thousand Devil Eater spent a year
seeking the fountain of amethyst flames that would harden his skin into unbreakable armor, and
returned to the living world fully satisfied, bringing glorious revenge upon the tyrant who
oppressed his people. His family refused to look him in the eye afterwards, but he neither knew
why, nor cared.
In the depths of the Labyrinth, specters and nephwracks sometimes carve out cult-kingdoms,
ruling over their subjects according to ancient schemes, chaotic whims, and the Whispers of the
Neverborn. These strange lands are peopled primarily by slaves, captives, and true believers on
the path to specter-hood themselves. From their dark thrones, specter-princes enact
incomprehensible necromantic rites to bolster their own power, pursue personal theories, or
satiate their appetites for suffering.
Each of these Labyrinth kingdoms is uniquely strange. Sonderance of Vicissitudes, her eyes
gleaming with inverted reflections of all she gazed upon, commands her subjects to reenact the
final dream they experienced in mortal life. The grand theater she built to accommodate these
performances grows larger and more complex by the year, and her troupes range far and wide in
search of the actors she requires. Specters in the thrall of Thundering Dissolution join their minds
with his in the Symphony of Omnipresence, a psychic whirlpool that shears away the borders
between their consciousnesses. Perched upon a rare part of the Labyrinth that opens unto a
Shadowland, the nephwrack Penance Scythe has spent centuries infiltrating the faiths of local
mortal communities, directing worship to himself — and snaring souls for his kingdom, drawn
there by his perversion of the Old Laws.
Strangest of all are the deep and incomprehensible horrors who stalk the lowest precincts of the
Labyrinth, and whose multiplicity defies any attempt to catalog them. When encountering a
many-limbed figure that drinks the color from its surroundings, a blood-hued mist that begs
frantically for forgiveness even as it rips its victims apart, or a collection of children moving in
perfect unison as grave soil pours unceasingly from their mouths, one can only speculate whether
they have found a god’s nightmare given form or a being that was once much like themselves.
No matter what those who delve into the Labyrinth encounter, there is one — only one — true
certainty: They will never be the same again.

Navigating the Labyrinth

The bold and the desperate sometimes travel the Labyrinth as a shortcut to
their destination. Storytellers may choose to handle this narratively, or
require one or more rolls. These are typically difficulty 3 (Wits +
[Navigation or Occult]), subject to modifiers based on the intended
destination:
FORMAT AS TABLE IN SIDEBAR
Distance & Modifiers Difficulty
A distant location in the same general direction +2
A distant location in a neighboring direction +3
Anywhere in the Underworld +5
A well-known location −1
An obscure location +1
A hidden location +2
Travel with a small entourage +1
Travel with a group of hundreds +3
Travel with thousands of followers +5
END TABLE
It is impossible to predict how much time a Labyrinth journey may save.
All things being equal, it’s usually at least twice as fast, with extra successes
speeding the process even further.
Failed rolls generally result in the travelers becoming entangled in the
Labyrinth’s dangers — roving specters, strange behemoths, and other
malevolent hazards cause either damage or delay.

Cities of the Dead

IF POSSIBLE, PLEASE FORMAT ABOVE HEADING BIGGER THAN A NORMAL LEVEL 1 HEADING—
THE FOLLOWING LEVEL 1’S ARE ALL PART OF “CITIES OF THE DEAD” UNTIL “AFTERLIVES”
Many and varied are the cities and empires of the Underworld. They often begin as afterlives, but
grow and change through the deliberate efforts of their ghostly inhabitants until they can scarcely
be recognized for what they once were. Cities like Stygia sprawl for mile upon dark mile as a
testament to the efforts of ghostly potentates, architects, and laborers; not content to simply exist
within their shadowed realm, they transform it into something new.
Stygia, the Midnight Jewel
At the Underworld’s heart, ancient beyond measure, stands the immortal metropolis of Stygia.
It’s founded upon the Old Laws, its hierarchies bound up in timeless rituals. But the city is also
endlessly rebuilt and renewed, home to a constant influx of ghosts seeking power, wealth, art,
knowledge, pleasure, spirituality, or refuge. Even conquered by the occupying armies of the
Thirteen Signatories of the Stygian Pact, it remains the richest, most cultured, and most populous
of all Underworld cities.
Blessed by the power of the Dual Monarchs, the city glows with prayer from millions of ghosts.
But this holy city has a rotten heart. The Signatories scheme endlessly for greater power;
meanwhile, specters worm their way through the populace, trickling up the Veinous Stair that
spirals from the city’s center into the Labyrinth.
Most residents, however, are neither influential wraith-magnates nor dread specter-kings. They
are ordinary ghosts who, like the living, struggle to get by. The sculptor apprenticed to a
centuries-old grandmaster, honing her craft so that her carvings might appeal to the city’s jaded
dead; the Tengese widow and the Whitewall orphan, taking one another as mother and son to
satisfy an aching need for kinship; the beggar curled shivering in a back alley, forever starving
yet unable to die a second death. These ghosts, and millions more, populate the immortal city.

History
When those ancients who became the Neverborn perished, they crashed through the center of the
Underworld and plunged into its depths. Coming to rest in the bowels of the Labyrinth, they
withdrew into themselves, their endlessly tormented corpses forming their own tombs.
Ghosts of those who died sudden, unexpected deaths have been drawn to this place since the
Underworld’s earliest days. They raised petty citadels on islands at the River Styx’s mouth, and
feuded for control of the region while banding together to fight off mortwights and nightmare-
beasts that rose from the pit. Such ghosts — now gathered into patrician enclaves called
Mansions — remain proud of this ancient heritage.
Centuries later, Stygia proper was founded by ghosts seeking to build a place of their own.
Gathered by demagogues and prophets from across the Underworld, they found both common
ground and ritual significance. The wisest and most learned among them — later dubbed the
Seven Divine Counselors — plumbed the Old Laws to codify the rites and ceremonies by which
Stygia became a place of power.
As their magnum opus, the capstone of the great work that was Stygia, they either discovered or
created the Dual Monarchs — the Monarchs do not speak of their origins, and those few
contemporaries who still exist report wildly contradictory accounts with genuine conviction.
Four beings in two bodies, the Monarchs embodied the power and mystery of the Old Laws.
Spreading their mantle across the immortal city, the Monarchs performed numerous miracles,
from invoking a tempest to drown the Fallen Spear Imperium’s invading armada to constructing
the Calendar of Setesh that defines time throughout the Underworld.
Stygia’s priesthoods — the far-wandering gondoliers and the sanctuary-guarding custodes —
spread outward as evangelists of the Dual Monarchs. Soon, ghosts throughout the Underworld
were praying to the Monarchs, empowering them further and strengthening the Old Laws,
fueling the city’s grand mausoleums with reverence. Though Stygia still knew its share of
conflicts, such as the revolt of the great artistic collegia against the Dual Monarchy, it was
nonetheless a time of peace unparalleled in Underworld history.
This peace unraveled as the Usurpation and the Shogunate’s wars flooded the Underworld with
renewed storms and armies of militant ghosts. Then came the Grand Tempest, as the Contagion’s
death toll shook the pillars of the Underworld and cracked the Calendar of Setesh. Vast typhoons
of shadow and dark lightning swept across the lands of the dead, their winds laden with ravening
specters led by terrible nephwrack-princes. The Veinous Stair vomited forth horrors at the heart
of Stygia itself, ravaging the immortal city.
Outsiders saw opportunity in Stygia’s struggle for survival. These warlords, courtiers, and
necromancers turned their eye toward the Underworld’s capital and assembled their forces for
conquest. Converging on the mouth of the Styx, they chose to cooperate rather than fighting one
another, signing the Stygian Pact by which they’d divide the city between them.
In the centuries since, Stygian life has been defined by endless intrigues. Each Signatory seeks
greater control over the immortal city and its influx of prayer; the Deathlords among them aim to
spread the influence of the chivalry of death and suppress the Dual Monarchs’ philosophy; the
Mansions feud with artisans’ guilds, district leaders, and merchant princes for scraps of power
and influence. The common dead often find themselves caught up in aristocratic scheming,
revolutionary fervor, day-to-day grifting, or simple familial strife.
Today, the immortal city buzzes with tension. New ghosts flood in ever faster amid the rising
death toll of the Time of Tumult; the coming Realm civil war threatens a new tempest. The
Deathlords, following the Mask of Winters’s lead, are on the move. And now the newly
appearing Abyssal Exalted tread Stygia’s streets like colossi, spreading awe and terror in their
wake.

Geography
Stygia sprawls across dozens of rocky islands on the River Styx delta, ringed by great cliffs as
dark and gleaming as the waters. The islands themselves have all but vanished beneath millennia
of construction; structures pile upon one another, with piers and bridges and towers forming a
three-dimensional maze around a web of canals. Seven great hills rise among the islets. The
Mansions once claimed them as their seats of power. Even today they remain prized real estate,
though the Signatories now squabble for control of their heights.

The Calendar of Setesh

An enormous construct of concentric, silver-seamed stone wheels and
gleaming jeweled orreries, incised with glyphs in Old Realm and other
primeval tongues, the Calendar of Setesh stands atop the Seat of Harmony’s
tallest tower, at the highest point in Stygia. The Calendar doesn’t merely
control the Underworld’s passage of time and the movement of its sun and
 stars; it creates these celestial lights, calling them into existence moment by
moment.
The Underworld doesn’t have fate or destiny in the same sense as Creation.
Nonetheless, careful study of its stars — and of the Calendar itself — can
yield prophetic insight regarding the lands of the dead.
The Sixteen Districts
Stygia has been divided into 16 districts since time immemorial, their nature bound by the Old
Laws. Originally identical in size and shape, the districts have shifted radically over the ages as
their regents schemed for ascendancy over their neighbors.
Each district’s boundaries are reinforced on the first day of each year with a ceremonial
procession. The regent must touch each of the district’s ancient boundary-stones, and shifting
those stones as part of the rite allows one district to expand at another’s expense. Whoever
completes the procession is the regent; regents surround themselves with bodyguards to prevent
coups during that vulnerable time.
Once, each regent took a share of the district’s Essence and conveyed the rest to the Dual
Monarchs. Since the conquest, most regents also pay tribute to one or more Signatories.
Monarch’s Way holds the prayer-lit palace of the Dual Monarchs, bureaucratic offices, temples,
manors, and strange silent gardens. Night Winds, the city’s other political center, caters to the
needs of the Cimmerian Council and the Signatories.
Iron Hill resounds with hammering from foundries and smithies, and clash of arms from martial
schools and military barracks. Thunder Hill’s elegant shops and deathly temples cater to the
Mansions’ proud ghosts.
Merchanters and Stygian Navy vessels dock at Seawall, its streets teeming with drunken ghost-
sailors on eternal shore leave. Elegant stone facades glisten along Onyx Point’s main avenues,
gentrified by the Silver Prince. Blood streams from temples of ancient sanguinary cults in Water
Runs Red.
Garrison fortresses in Sunborn’s Last Stand echo with the Legion Sanguinary’s bootsteps. In
The Quarter Magnificent, musicians and artists sustain an endless festival atmosphere.
Merchants, scholars, and aesthetes alike flock to Golden Tears for the thrill of haggling and to
obtain rare goods.
V’igea draws ghosts to Stygia as a cultural afterlife. Passionately cosmopolitan ghosts meet and
mingle in its teahouses; back streets hide conservative dead immersing themselves in their
peoples’ old ways. Those who enter the alien forest of Indigo Grove face strange spirits and
prophetic visions.
Ghosts visit Bittersweet Remembrance to mourn — or to bask in mourners’ aura of sorrow.
Pleasure-seekers frequent Bone Lanterns to partake in theater, cuisine, liquor, drugs, gambling,
sex, and other ghostly pastimes.
Whispering Streets, still damaged from the Grand Tempest, is home to indigents, misfits,
criminals, and largely harmless specters. In the bleak temples of Where Shadows Walk,
nephwrack-priests preach an end to all things.
The Sewers
Shadow-water from bathhouses, kitchens, laundries, and the like flows into a maddening maze of
tunnels beneath the immortal city. Vagrant ghosts form hushed communities here in the dark,
protecting themselves as best they can from slavers, press gangs, animal ghosts gone rogue,
marauding mortwights crawling in where the sewers meet the Labyrinth, and weirder things from
beneath the Underworld’s soil.
Stygian gossipmongers speak of Suspire, the monstrous pauper-lord of the sewers, who centuries
ago led an army of downtrodden ghosts in a failed rebellion against the Signatories. Some call
him a specter; others say he’s allied with the gondoliers. Another figure is only named in
whispers — the Last Counselor, allegedly the sole survivor of the Seven Divine Counselors.
Rumor says she’s an oracle, a priest of the Dual Monarchs with unrivaled knowledge and
wisdom.
The Veinous Stair
The hole at Stygia’s center is the Veinous Stair, where the Neverborn once plunged through the
Underworld into the Labyrinth. A single rivulet of the Styx cascades into the pit, carrying
offerings and the occasional execution victim; from below rise mortwights’ groans and
nephwracks’ hymns. Luxurious Signatorial palazzos encircle the cyclopean pit, and the Noctuary
Spire, a jagged obsidian tower where the Cimmerian Council (p. XX) meets, leans crookedly
outward over the abyss.
A single eponymous stairway runs down along the pit’s edge, countless side corridors leading to
played-out soulsteel-ore mines and ancient chambers of dubious purpose. Farther down,
throbbing passages wend into the Labyrinth; here the specters come and go, drawn by the
whispers of oblivion. Stygia’s rift-divers probe these vaults at great risk to find lost treasures,
battle specters, and seek intelligence on nephwrack activities that might threaten the immortal
city. Deeper still lie the tomb-bodies of the Neverborn, where Deathlords and Abyssals
commune with their dark masters.
If the Stair has a bottom, no one has ever found it.

Society
Stygia is a mélange of strangers and cliques. Where most Underworld cities revolve around a
single afterlife, Stygia contains many, all butting up uncomfortably against one another. They’re
joined by a steady flow of immigrants who come to pursue political ambitions, engage in trade,
study in its libraries or ateliers, make pilgrimages to its holy sites, escape tyrannical or torturous
afterlives, or simply enjoy the decadent lifestyle available in the Underworld’s most
cosmopolitan city.
Found family predominates among relationships here. This typically manifests as coteries and
social networks bound together by friendship and other commonalities — whether profession,
religion, or culture of origin, or even shared desire for bitter rivalry. Sometimes these found
families take more literal form in surrogate relationships. For example, a mother’s ghost may
bond with a younger woman’s in place of her real daughter, who might in turn be reminded of
her own mother, a favorite teacher, or a beloved queen. This often generates sprawling surrogate
families with an irregular network of bonds.
In addition to supporting such relationships, established organizations also provide social
structures approximating what ghosts knew in life, as well as opportunities to pursue many of
their passions. These range from the Mansions and collegia to businesses, criminal organizations,
secret societies, and social clubs.

The House of Weeds

This unassuming two-story structure in the Bone Lanterns district, tucked
between a pawnshop and a cabaret, serves as a wineshop and boarding
house. A narrow corridor opens on a common room where a few local
ghosts eat curried rice, drink wine, and converse. Most have been regulars
for over a century, retelling the same anecdotes ten thousand times over;
each runs a tab, unpaid for over a century.
The acerbic proprietor, Lady Sea-Wrack — her blue features concealed
behind a driftwood mask, her green robes smelling of salt — is a respected
figure in the local community. Once the matriarch to a fishing village that
was slaughtered in a long-forgotten war; she’s long since come to see her
staff, boarders, and neighbors as a vexing yet secretly beloved extended
clan of nieces, nephews, and cousins.
Among Lady Sea-Wrack’s regulars, the rebellious swordmaster Perfect
Crescent, privately views the Lady as her liege in place of the one she failed
in life. The House’s bouncer, Pillar-Toppling Devil Prince, sees her as the
father figure he never had. And to the charismatic, luckless vagrant Dark-
Eyed Omada, she’s the gruff monk whose secret generosity kept him fed in
the leanest of his living years.
Culture
Much of Stygia’s architecture is a jumble of styles from across Creation's history, overlaid with a
variety of Gothic modes developed and refined by dead architects, thick with steeples and flying
buttresses and the phi emblem of the Dual Monarchs’ creed. Some structures were constructed
from dusky Underworld stone and lumber; others simply appeared, fragments of ghost-cities
accreting through the rituals that draw in ghostly Essence through worship.
The arts stand high in Stygia’s esteem, as the dead hunger for experiences that fuel their passions
much as the living crave food and drink. Ghosts frequent theaters and galleries much as mortals
visit restaurants and taverns, and graze on street buskers’ performances as mortals would attend
hawkers’ food carts. The most skilled and ardent performers can command almost any price,
though they favor audience members with equally refined tastes; often, an impoverished
sophisticate may attend an elite artist’s performances more easily than a boorish ghost-magnate.
Stygian art prioritizes evoking strong passions over aesthetics. Current styles are often rough or
grotesque. Works may aim to evoke multiple emotions, such as a dance both sensual and
terrifying, or a painting of a tragic feast that elicits both hunger and sadness. A certain
desperation often creeps into performances from artist and audience alike as the dead seek to fill
the aching void within them.
In Stygia’s salons and galleries, attendees may forget the passage of time altogether; parties last
for days or weeks. In the Blue Room of Queen Nefere’s manor, a ghostly musician plays the
erhu with immeasurable slowness, each note taking hours, the recital having continued for years.
In the Gallery of Graven Stone on Thunder Hill, it’s said that a visitor arrived a thousand years
ago to admire a statue of a long-forgotten cupbearer; she stands there admiring still.
By edict of the Dual Monarchs, grain ships from across the Stygian Archipelago empty their
holds into urban granaries. A chain of mills and bakeries transforms this into aromatic, earthy
black bread. This, supplemented with wheels of pale, fragrant white cheese and amphoras of
poppy-seed oil, provides a dole for the immortal city’s hungry residents. But it falls to district
regents to distribute the dole, a process that’s grown more corrupt since the conquest. The
hungry poor queue for days or weeks for a bite, while ever more of the supply is resold for profit
to wealthy gluttons.
Longtime residents of Stygia make extensive use of a lexicon of cultural symbols. Some they
attribute to specific legends or scriptures, while others’ origins are lost to history. Weeds signify
persistence and thriving in the Underworld; a dandelion represents passage into Lethe. Fish
symbolize ghosts, while a fishhook means either love or money, depending on who you ask. And
blood — or, indeed, anything crimson — holds many meanings depending on context, including
power, food, artistic fervor, endings, new beginnings, and Creation itself.
Out of tradition, many longtime Stygians conceal their identity, believing this reduces
vulnerability to both deathly magic and more mundane threats to one’s cult or loved ones in
Creation. The city’s gate guards encourage visitors to offer a pseudonym rather than their living
names, and provide featureless terra-cotta masks to all who desire one. Mask-sellers do brisk
business within the city; master artisans specializing in bespoke masks achieve great wealth and
renown.
Businesses aim to engage as many of their customers’ passions as possible. Restaurants, art
galleries, and bazaars feature music, theater, sweet incense, or fragrant flowers. Some encourage
conviviality, seating diners together at long tables, or packing galleries with viewers. Others
offer soundproofed rooms where hosts curate experiences for affluent clients. A few places
specialize in stoking negative emotions, luring perverse customers with discordant choirs,
noisome odors, or the like. Several wineshops on Seawall offer bone-dry hardtack and skunked
beer; the Kudzu Bell’s boarding house specializes in stale bread, mildewed cheese, and
vegetables boiled into a sulfurous mass.
In this densely populated city, privacy comes at a premium, causing difficulties for those who
crave solitude. Some hostelries offer padded, coffin-sized sleeping cells. Others float their clients
in tanks of dark water, sealed to block out all the senses.
Economics
While the dead don’t need nourishment or shelter, they desire it, and Stygia caters to ghostly
wealth. Street vendors, wineshops, and restaurants offer a bewildering array of beverages and
viands to tempt travelers regardless of their means. Landowners who no longer receive offerings
from the living rent rooms to pilgrims and apprentices. Artisans produce ornaments, furnishings,
armaments, and more; their finest works are renowned and sought-after throughout the
Underworld.
The immortal city’s currency, the Stygian obol, comes in no single size or shape. Each is a grave
good coin whose original metal has been entirely replaced by lead alloy while somehow
remaining the same coin — an occult process resistant to mundane counterfeiting. Anyone
holding a Stygian obol can feel a trace of the lingering passions of the person it was buried with.
Some ghosts hoard coins whose psychic residue resonates with their own feelings; money
changers sort obols by emotion for arbitrage.
Those too impoverished to afford shelter, or who’ve suffered physical and cognitive
deterioration from death, trauma, and the grinding weight of time, find themselves marginalized.
To make the wealthy and powerful more comfortable, they’re forced out of sight — whether out
of the city, into alleyways and slums, or into the endless sewers and catacombs that underlie the
immortal city.
Mausoleums
Prayer flows from across the Underworld to Stygia’s numerous mausoleums, where ghosts bathe
in the warming glow of remembrance. They embody beauty as well as geomancy, with gleaming
marble facades, elegant fluted pillars, frieze-lined galleries, and intricate fan vaulting. A
mausoleum’s geomancy channels millions of whispered prayers into an intricate, sonorous song-
mist that swirls through its halls and chambers; each mausoleum has its own melody.
Remembrance condenses at the mausoleum’s center into a shining, thrumming pool of liquid
reverence.
Breathing the prayer-mist fills ghosts with tranquility and vitality; bathing in the reverence-pool
doubly so. For millennia, these amenities — not to mention dining halls, reading rooms, and
more — were open to all ghosts regardless of wealth or status. But since the conquest, most have
fallen under the aegis of various Signatories and district regents, who charge admittance fees and
turn away low-status visitors so as not to disturb wealthy patrons. Only in Monarch’s Way do
mausoleums remain open to all.
Slavery
Enslaved ghosts are sadly common in Stygia, typically doing menial or household labor. While
some are bound by magical oaths or necromantic spells, most suffer slavery as mortals might,
under threat of exile, imprisonment, torture, or execution. Officially, they have various legal
rights, such as protection from harm, ownership of personal property and wealth, freedom of
movement within the city, and seeking redress from the Dual Monarchs. In practice, many
owners — especially the wealthy or influential — skirt these restrictions.
Traditionally, the Dual Monarchs proclaimed a jubilee every 64 years, a festive occasion when
all debts were forgiven and all slaves freed. However, the Treaty of Stygia forbids the Monarchs
from issuing such proclamations. This has allowed many slaveholders to amass compounding
wealth from never-diminishing workforces, further consolidating power in the hands of the
privileged few.
Stygian law allows for sanctuary in shrines of the Transcendent Course (p. XX). It also stipulates
that custodes and gondoliers cannot be enslaved. As such, it’s become a tradition for escaped
slaves to join the priesthood. Underworld historians suggest that abolitionist agitation by
traveling gondoliers was one of the factors that united the Signatories in opposition to Stygia.
Multiculturalism
Over the millennia, ancestral ghosts and evangelists of the Transcendent Course have spread
word of Stygia to many of Creation’s peoples. To most this is just a curiosity. But for some it’s
become a new cultural afterlife. Typically it’s a rich, peaceful heaven to be sought, especially for
those whose extant cultural afterlife suffered invasion or other tragedy, although to a few
cultures it’s a decadent, predatory hell to be feared. Much like immigrant groups in Creation,
these afterlives’ ghosts often form discrete neighborhoods of those who adhere to their culture’s
ways and want little to do with the rest of Stygia.
These neighborhoods vary widely. Pale, cloistered Sanctuary teems with insular Whitewall
ghosts; most still fear the unquiet dead despite having joined their ranks. Flautists and drummers
maintain an endless dancing revel in the clamorous cellars of Disheris; the Gatesister cult of
demon-haunted Scathe prays for deliverance in death from Scathe’s Resplendent Masters and
from the Legion Sanguinary. And gaudy, perfumed Tilsemay Tower holds the last remaining
ghosts of the Aghari and Sevi peoples, conquered and scattered by the folk of Harborhead
centuries ago.
Even the rare ghosts arising among the Blessed Isle’s Immaculate populace gravitate to Stygia.
There they can find fellowship and safety; many ghosts from Threshold peoples hold eternal
grudges. Central to their community is the House of Daana’d’s Eye, where ghost-monks aim to
help dead Immaculate followers release their passions and find Lethe.
Foreigners, too, find their place in the immortal city. Merchants, pilgrims, scholars, and more
come here seeking fulfillment. Meanwhile, the Signatories maintain garrisons, entourages, and
cultural enclaves within their Stygian holdings. And some ghosts native to a local afterlife
simply don’t fit in with their peers. Together, these form the most cosmopolitan and dynamic
neighborhoods, with the influx of new ghosts with different cultural viewpoints warding off the
staleness of immortal existence. Well-known neighborhoods include the bustling laborers’
tenements of Little Shoe, with their ritual cycle of riots and crackdowns; the neverending
drunken cabarets of Soul’s Lost; and the susurrus of prayer and religious debate rising from the
temples, libraries, and museums of the Street of Dust.
Collegia
In ancient times, ghostly artists, scholars, and occultists formed collectives to pass on arts no
longer practiced in Creation lest they be forgotten. These organizations, known as collegia,
gained great social and political clout over the centuries.
In the late First Age, the collegia sought to usurp the Dual Monarchy. Such was their knowledge
of the Old Laws that they almost succeeded, thwarted only by the prescience of the Seven Divine
Counselors. Most of the rebels were sentenced to perpetual exile. But given the importance of
the arts to Stygia, many beloved performers and learned masters received commuted sentences,
albeit under surveillance. The collegia were strictly regulated thereafter to limit their authority
and influence. Those who fled founded the Hall of Attainment in Black Diamond (p. XX),
consolidating their knowledge under the aegis of the Mask of Winters and his Acheron League.
In recognition for the Hall’s support of the conquest of Stygia through artifice, necromancy, and
secret lore, it was granted stewardship of the city’s collegia and a seat on the Cimmerian
Council. The collegia have resurged since then, though not to the high-water mark they once
knew. Elders retain enormous status as repositories of lost arts whose fruits other elder ghosts
crave and cannot obtain elsewhere. Their passing into Lethe is seen as a terrible tragedy, and
apprenticeship under them one of Stygia’s greatest honors.
Stygia contains dozens of chartered collegia, some famous and powerful, others minor and
obscure. Each maintains a meeting-hall, assigns rankings based on skill, and elects its leadership,
though specifics vary. Regular gatherings address such topics as recent promotions, display of
noteworthy works, and economic minutiae; business is usually followed by a banquet. Members
gather at the meeting-hall even outside of meetings to socialize, practice their arts, and observe
others doing the same.
Ancient ghosts dominate the upper echelons of most collegia. Having lived in wildly different
cultures and times, they often argue viciously against one another’s artistic styles and techniques,
only to close ranks against newly dead upstarts filled with unfamiliar ideas and the ardent
passions of the recently alive.
Several collegia stand out among their peers. For instance, the acclaimed Thespian Collegium
welcomes audiences to its meeting-hall’s grand theaters and to streetside performances; its
actors’ smiling masks conceal a wasp’s nest of jealous romances and petty intrigues. The genteel
Sculptors’ Collegium reshapes ghosts’ bodies as easily as stone and wood, its services equally
desired by stylish ghost-aristocrats, crafty assassins, and furtive refugees. And the wealthy
Smithcraft Collegium maintains strong ties with several Signatories, each outbidding the others
for soulsteel armaments forged by the Collegium’s grandmasters.
The Mansions
Stygia’s oldest social and political groups — the Mansions — predate the immortal city’s
founding; each was once a primeval afterlife upon an island-hill, which called to souls who
suffered sudden, unexpected deaths. Their elders dominated Stygia’s governance for much of its
history, feuding with one another over power and ancient vendettas, and mastering obscure spirit
arts. For centuries, the Mansions have presented a united front after losing most of their temporal
authority to the conquering Signatories, but old quarrels between them persist behind the scenes.
The Blue Mansion comprises victims of unexpected drowning. Consisting in large part of
sailors, fisherfolk, and merchants, it once directed Stygia’s maritime commerce and navy. Its
elders resent losing control of the docks to the Silver Prince, and despise the Signatory Aikeret
and her pirates.
The Falling-Star Mansion comprises victims of sudden, unexpected falls. With numerous
masons, architects, loggers, and the like, it holds great influence over Stygia’s construction
industry. It also includes scouts, explorers, and scavengers who’ve accumulated broad
knowledge of Creation’s far corners and obscure histories.
The Pale Mansion comprises victims of apoplexy. Often wealthy or sedentary in life, its
membership is perhaps the most well-educated Mansion, and the richest in offerings and grave
goods. Many see themselves as the heart of Stygian culture and high society. The Heron has
courted the Pale Mansion for centuries; its leadership falls firmly within her camp.
The Red Mansion comprises victims of sudden, unexpected violence. Its membership skews
toward hunters, soldiers, and criminals on the one hand, and assassinated nobles, bureaucrats,
and clergy on the other. The most militant Mansion, the Red maintains longtime ties with
Ukhala’s empire and the Cruor’s priesthood.
The Storm-Struck Mansion, few in number, comprises victims of lightning strikes. Many of
Creation’s cultures deem those struck by lightning to be holy; the Storm-Struck proudly formed a
priestly caste in the Underworld’s early days, and their elders still resent being supplanted by the
gondoliers and custodes — though they like the Shining Way even less.
Lastly, the Thousand-Hued Mansion — also dubbed the Patchwork Mansion — comprises
those who die suddenly and unexpectedly of disparate causes outside any other Mansion’s remit.
Its leaders admit outsiders for sufficient remuneration; for this reason, the other Mansions
disdain it as unworthy of their number.
Collectively, the Mansions hold a seat on Stygia’s ruling council. Some claim that this is a
reward for complicity with the invaders during the conquest. No evidence supports this, yet the
rumors persist.

The Resplendent Mansion

In the Underworld’s first days, the Resplendent Mansion stood
foremost among its peers, comprised of a host of Exalted and other
heroic ghosts who’d died in battle against the world’s makers. But
new members slowed to a trickle, then stopped entirely before the
First Age’s end. Today, their ancient seat atop Shining Hill stands all
but empty, inhabited by a few reclusive timeworn ghosts and a host
of guardian spirits and automata.

The Transcendent Course

This is the creed of the Dual Monarchs, and Stygia’s faith for millennia before the conquest:
The Underworld’s heavens and hells are false. Achieving Lethe is the ideal state for the dead, but
the Underworld is a port-of-call where ghosts can come to terms with the passions and goals
holding them to their past lives and disentangle them. As such, it should be a place of calm,
shelter, and safety. The Dual Monarchs provide this peace and security in the holy city of Stygia.
The Transcendent Course is a dualistic creed, seeing all things through a lens of opposites: life
and death, flesh and spirit, stillness and flow, holding on and letting go. Gondoliers teach that
each of these things has its place. Clinging to ghostly existence is not evil, but it has a cost, and
the time always comes to let go and pass into Lethe.
The Monarchs’ haven-priests — or custodes — watch over sanctuaries across the Underworld
where the faithful can find refuge. Meanwhile, the Monarchs’ ferry-priests, or gondoliers, offer
both metaphorical and literal guidance, conveying the dead to Underworld locales meant to help
them overcome their bonds to life.
The cult has lost power since the conquest of Stygia. In much of the Underworld — particularly
regions affiliated with the Deathlords —authorities persecute the priesthood, destroying
custodes’ sanctuaries and driving gondoliers from their shores. Cult priests officially retain their
prerogatives in Stygia, but must watch their backs lest they be caught alone and beset by hostile
Signatories’ agents.
Traditionally, white jade double herms indicate sanctuaries, while black jade double herms mark
jetties where one can await a gondolier's arrival. In the modern day they're replaced by furtive
carvings or drawings, as conquerors and rulers tear down statues for raw materials and to
suppress the creed in their domains.
The Dual Monarchs
Taking their nature from the Underworld’s enigmatic laws and their strength from millions of
ghostly worshipers, the Dual Monarchs define Stygia with their presence and the Underworld
with their works. Creatures of duality, the White Monarch and the Black Monarch each have two
distinct aspects. Though their goals run parallel, they aren’t perfectly aligned; a Monarch’s
aspects have been known to oppose each other’s votes in council.
Each Monarch wears an ancient jade mask of the appropriate color, carved with strong yet
androgynous features; they never unmask in public. They switch between aspects seamlessly,
voice and body language changing to match.
Usine, male aspect of the White Monarch, labors unceasingly in his workshop, crafting relics to
make Stygia strong. Across the centuries, he’s sculpted and enlivened the thousands of white
jade effigies that comprise the immortal city’s Jade Legion. Clad in glorious panoply forged by
his own hand, he once strode across the Sea of Sorrow’s archipelagoes, smiting monsters and
filling onlookers’ hearts with the courage to persist against adversity; but since the conquest he’s
rarely left the Monarchs’ citadel.
Eset, female aspect of the White Monarch, wields necromantic power over the Underworld
through her voice, with songs that calm the tempests that rise from the Labyrinth and scatter the
mortwights that ride those bleak winds. Through spoken oaths with the nephwrack-princes, her
magic binds them to their word, sealing the bargains that limit their threat to Stygia. She remains
cloistered at other times, leaving her the most mysterious of the Monarchs.
Setesh, male aspect of the Black Monarch, supervises the rites and ceremonies that lend stability
to Stygia and the Underworld. He strides the streets with codex and measuring-cord to direct the
construction of Essence-gathering mausoleums and other geomantic works, funereal incense-
smoke rising sweetly from his robes. He also oversees the grand Calendar that creates time in the
Underworld, keeping it calibrated and unearthing prophecies through its workings.
Nebthys, female aspect of the Black Monarch, knows the living world in a way that others in the
Underworld cannot. She hears the last whispers of the dying; she hears the entreaties of mortal
funerists asking her to guide the souls of the dead to their afterlives. Her knowledge of mortal,
ghostly, and sorcerous secrets alike is vast and deep; she hoards this information like a miser,
sharing tidbits only at key moments.
Other Religions
Stygia accommodates almost every faith found in the Underworld. Shrines abound to all manner
of chthonic divinities, including psychopomps, ghostly messiahs, undead god-kings, and
renowned culture heroes. Most mark sites where their patrons purportedly first appeared in the
Underworld, resided, preached, worked miracles, found enlightenment, or entered Lethe. Many
store holy relics carefully guarded against ghostly thieves. A few even depict Yu-Shan’s deities
or the Immaculate Dragons.
On street corners, ghostly ascetics practice meditation and prayer to perform spiritual and
mystical wonders. The Cathedral of the Unwinding Pyre — a grand temple of the Shining Way
— towers over them, its basalt spires shining with a thousand crimson lamps. In the Fane of
Nepenthe, the so-called Water-bearers of Lethe baptize congregants with a balm to ease
sorrowful memories. Under the jasmine-laden arches of the Wend, pilgrims stop at reliquary-
shrines set with dreamstones of sermons and lessons from long-ago.
The Incarnadine Path was Stygia’s native religion before the Dual Monarchs. Its creed reveres
the River of Blood as the literal and metaphorical lifeblood of Creation and Underworld alike.
Ghosts of the Mansions find a sense of superiority in their ancient ties to the faith, while the
collegia uphold it in opposition to the Transcendent Course. Its stronghold is the rust-red steeple
of the Cruor, where Incarnadine blood-priests sacrifice animals brought at great difficulty from
the living world to anoint the faithful in gore. Since Stygia’s founding, the Cruor’s priests have
been a law unto themselves, offering sanctuary to fugitives; the Signatories show little respect
for these traditions, but citywide rioting the last time the Legion Sanguinary violated Cruor
sanctuary makes them cautious.
Even the Neverborn receive worship here, in nephwrack-raised temples amid the district called
Where Shadows Walk. Few ordinary ghosts dare visit them; fewer still do so openly. Stygia’s
populace retains a healthy fear of specters, viewing those who truck with the Labyrinth’s
denizens with grave suspicion and recoiling from the despair that engulfs them.

Governance
As conquerors, the Signatories dominate matters of policy and law. As a practical matter, they
allow other voices. City governance falls to the Cimmerian Council, composed of 21
representatives: one from each Signatory, one from each of the four Dual Monarchs, and one
each from the Mansions, the collegia, the district regents, and the Cruor. In practice, peripheral
representatives’ votes are often swayed by one Signatory or another via clientage, bribes, or
threats.
Where law and order were once a matter for the Mansions, over the millennia they’ve fallen at
various times to the Dual Monarchs, the district regents, and the Monarchs’ legates. Today, while
the Mansions, collegia, and Signatories prefer to resolve their followers’ issues internally, the
regents adjudge other conflicts in their domains. In theory, the Monarchs retain supreme judicial
authority, but the Pact forbids the Monarchs from directly challenging a Signatory; thus, any
criminal sheltered by a Signatory is above prosecution. All manner of rogues now take shelter
beneath a Signatory’s aegis, their freedom from Stygian justice contingent upon service to their
new master.
Major crimes include slaying or perpetually imprisoning citizens, betraying city secrets to
nephwracks, stealing or destroying grave goods, despoiling valued artworks or interrupting
important performances, and harming a citizen’s descendants or shrines in Creation. Common
punishments include confiscation of grave goods, periods of servitude to the plaintiff or city,
imprisonment, and exile. The significance of certain punishments varies with the defendant’s
age; the younger the ghost, the more income they’ll likely have from their descendants’
offerings, and the more they’ll be harmed by any given length of imprisonment keeping them
from their ancestor cults.

The Stygian Pact

The pact formed by Stygia’s conquerors remains in effect today. Thirteen foreign powers share
control over the city. Despite some turnover, most are the same ones who subjugated it centuries
ago.
Each Signatory is a specific individual, officially holding title in the name of some foreign
polity; this is largely a polite fiction for the Deathlords, who are powers unto themselves. When a
Signatory abdicates or perishes, their polity chooses a successor. Should the polity itself also
dissolve, the remaining Signatories vote on a replacement. Few Signatories reside in Stygia; the
rest send envoys to convey their will while they pursue other duties elsewhere. Deathlord
Signatories sometimes designate a deathknight for this task.
The Signatories
The Black Heron spends more time in Stygia than any other Deathlord, involving herself deeply
in politics and high society. She maintains a residence in the Monarch’s Way district, at the heart
of the burgeoning neighborhood dubbed the Quarter Magnificent.
The First and Forsaken Lion commands more military might in Stygia than any other
Signatory. He maintains a sizable garrison in the Iron Hills district, where his captains recruit
officers from gathered mercenaries and his quartermasters procure the finest blades.
The Mask of Winters maintains a walled compound in Golden Tears district. It holds a fully
garrisoned fortress, a palatial estate for hosting high-society galas, and a hall of records whose
census-takers relentlessly review Stygia’s populace and transactions — and serves as a nexus for
his spies and secret police.
The Silver Prince owns a broad swath of the district now named Onyx Point. He uses this to
advertise Skullstone’s way of life, sponsoring poets, composers, opera houses for necrotheater,
and similar cultural amenities. His lictors police the district for troublemakers and dissidents.

Other Deathlords
Some Deathlords maintain holdings and interests in Stygia despite not
being Signatories. For instance, the Bishop funds the sky-scraping
Cathedral of the Unwinding Pyre to spread the Shining Way.
Meanwhile, the Eye has dispatched the skeletal Steel-Feather Scribe
— once a priest of fallen Vanileth — as his agent in Stygia, to liaise
with ghostly artisans and seek out texts and prototypes of arcane
engineering.

Once hounded by the Stygian Navy, legendary corsair-queen Aikeret of the Damned Sails
usurped its admiralty after leading the Signatories’ fleets against the immortal city. She cuts a
dramatic figure even among Damned Sails peers; obsidian medals and nacreous chains jangle
upon her crimson greatcoat, and beneath her hat’s broad brim, blue flames burn in empty
sockets. Having worked her way up from nothing in death as in life, she relishes luxury and
craves challenge; she regularly hunts pirates who rejected her sovereignty or seize cargo-laden
ships unwilling to pay Stygia’s tolls. She supports the Prince, her ships privateering in his name
throughout the Sea of Shadows.
The Emerald Shogun has always been Signatory for the Eternal Emerald Shogunate, though it’s
unclear if the same ghost has always worn the Shogun’s green jade mask. When the Great
Contagion struck, millions of ghosts flooded the Howling Marshes where disease-slain dead
often appear, among them the shades of over a thousand Exalted from the Dragon-Blooded
Shogunate’s gentes. The Emerald Shogun quickly rose to power wielding the Lancet, an
enigmatic ghost-slaying weapon said to manifest the Contagion itself. The Shogun rarely visits
Stygia, whether for fear of dangers there or of being usurped by his turbulent court in his
absence; he sends courtiers, diplomats, and generals in his place, tasked with gaining ascendancy
over the Stygian Archipelago.
Fathom Hermit Shell is the current Signatory for the Eemi, an enigmatic league of aquatic
necromancer-lords residing in the Sea of Shadows’ depths. Shell wears a towering suit of
elaborately patterned bronze armor without visible openings, its mossy, verdigrised surface
perpetually dripping salt water. Their booming voice echoes from afar, as though deep
underwater. Some speculate that the suit is a remotely directed puppet; other say it’s larger on
the inside, with the true Fathom Hermit Shell a vast creature swimming within a boundless sea.
Shell speaks rarely, briefly, and cryptically. They evince little interest in Stygian affairs, and
casually sell their vote in council for occult lore, arcane relics, and favors that they have to date
almost never used.
Fer-Ai-Zo-Yun of Dis, Signatory for the Epoch — a coalition of prehuman ghosts of the
Dreaming Sea — scarcely ever visits Stygia in person, as few doorways or chambers
accommodate his massive 50-foot frame. His current representative, Dream-That-Walks,
resembles a pungent, tiger-sized chimera of bear, horseshoe crab, and starfish. While most
prehuman ghosts have little truck with Stygia’s dead due to despising and resenting humanity,
Dream-That-Walks shows great interest in the immortal city’s customs, odors, and bells. They
also convey their Signatory’s demands, which revolve largely around obtaining obscure trade
goods and ghostly slaves, and accessing the Calendar of Setesh for inscrutable divinatory
purposes.
The Quicksilver Burin stands as Signatory for the Hall of Attainment, an association of
practitioners of artifice, geomancy, necromancy, and the spirit arts. The Hall was founded by
Stygian exiles from the collegia rebellion, given shelter and prestige in the city of Black
Diamond under the auspices of the Mask of Winters. A renowned lapidary and moliator, the
Burin appears as a tall, angular figure of living cinnabar, their manner stilted and precise, their
touch etching surfaces with scrollwork like spreading frost. They vote on the council to bolster
the collegia and the Mask, offering lavish gifts of artifice and lore in exchange for support; in all
other matters, they sell their vote for favors.
Sapphire Chain serves as Signatory at the pleasure of the Council of Royals of the sprawling
Empire of Aki. Appearing as tall and fresh as the prime of her youth, this richly dressed courtier
attends all meetings personally, and is intimately familiar with every power player in the
immortal city. Though she presents a genial, attentive public demeanor, her ruthlessness is
legend; the Royals hold her ghost-clan as well-treated hostages, and she knows they’ll suffer for
her failures. Fearing the growing threat of the Mask’s neighboring Acheron League, the Empire
of Aki now backs the agenda of his rival the Walker in Darkness, who supports the empire in
exchange for accepting his bleak faith as its official religion.
Ukhala Enlightened-in-Blood has stood as Signatory for the Fallen Spear Imperium since the
conquest of Stygia. A millennium ago, she rose to mastery of the primal afterlives of violent
death as their empress-saint, wielding a terrible strength said to draw upon the River of Blood
itself; she rules much of the Stygian archipelago, and her battle-thirst is never wholly slaked.
Disturbing crimson glyphs crawl across her skin like insects; when she speaks, walls drip with
half-clotted gore. She sees the Shogun, the Lion, and now the Mask as rivals, opposing them in
council on principle. She seldom attends in person, sending her more polished and analytical
staff officers as representatives.
The White Thyrsus, as the youngest ghost-priest of the Hundredroot, represents his order as
Signatory. The ghost-priests venerate and feed a vast, malevolent spectral forest that subsumes
ghosts who sleep beneath its boughs, absorbing their power and knowledge into itself. Their
order rejects the Transcendent Course and seeks to undermine the Dual Monarchs, desiring that
the Hundredroot eventually absorb the entire Underworld; they likewise oppose the Shining Way
and death’s chivalry. Though the Hundredroot has no real allies in Stygia, the Thyrsus — a
renowned adjudicator and poet, now preternaturally comely and charismatic in death — has
many friends, always couching a vote against one Signatory’s interests as support of another’s.
Sesim Ruseka (p. XX), once a necromancer-prince of the fallen Rotting Lotus Empire, stand as
the latest Signatory for the avian hosts of the Thousand Tempests. He sees and hears through
spectral birds; his flocks nest everywhere amid Stygia’s rooftops, gathering the city’s secrets.
Having gained his seat with the Black Heron’s support, he serves her interests, but courts other
Signatories to win their favor and so disentangle himself from his patron. Ruseka aims to one
day reclaim his empire; until then, he’d see the immortal city prosper.
Pact Intrigues
Pact intrigues run the gamut from petty personal grievances to grandiose political schemes.
Signatories have all manner of tools to undermine or gain leverage over their rivals, ranging from
subtler efforts such as bribery, blackmail, extortion, and trumped-up charges to more direct
means like theft, sabotage, kidnapping, and assassination.
The Abyssals’ arrival gives the Deathlords the upper hand. Goals that ghostly agents had failed
to achieve over the centuries may yet be achieved by deathknights. Meanwhile, other ghosts seek
to embroil Abyssals in their schemes with exorbitant gifts, or by invoking personal connections
or shared ideals.

Noteworthy Individuals
Born a slave, Lady Persimmon rose from consort to queen mother before her untimely death in
a power struggle. Confident, charismatic, and analytical, she’s attained high standing in the Red
Mansion — overseeing numerous prestigious artistic gatherings, and often representing the
Mansion before the Cimmerian Council. She courts district regents, Mansion elders, and collegia
grandmasters; amasses wealth and influence to tempt suitors; and undermines rivals via
blackmail, fabricated evidence, and whisper campaigns. Recalling her humble birth, Lady
Persimmon offers charity to impoverished ghosts and supports ending slavery in Stygia. Her
outspoken abolitionism has earned enemies; she fears assassination, and keeps skilled Red
Mansion bodyguards close.
Long ago, rage and despair drove Anouph of the Leopard Skin to specterhood. Rescued by the
legendary gondolier Reshka of the Gates, he joined the priesthood to spare other ghosts from the
same torments. While he knows Stygia’s rivers intimately, he travels more by land, having lost
many boats escaping Signatorial agents — particularly those of Ukhala Enlightened-in-Blood,
whose lieutenant he once was, and who took his departure as a betrayal. He’s more willing than
most gondoliers to work with specters and other dark entities — including Abyssals — but acts
cautiously, lest he compromise his principles.
Stygian aesthetes pay well to attend viewings of the Lazuli Blue’s paintings, and even more to
watch one being painted. Heavy, short, and dark, his face covered by a wrinkled long-nosed
porcelain mask, he speaks gently with his subjects as he works, and so touches their souls to
portray their dreams on canvas. Of late the Silver Prince has become his patron, though the
Prince allows none to attend his sittings and spirits the portraits away to a private collection. His
peers whisper, troubled by the dark mood sinking its hooks into his dead heart. Many of Stygia’s
elite desire access to the Blue; they’d owe a favor to any who’d disentangle him from his patron.
The Prince fears that a rival’s agents might discern some secret weakness by interrogating the
Blue about the dreams he’s painted, and will see him destroyed should he seem ready to speak.

Neighbors
The city of Namtar was once a shanty-town in Stygia’s outskirts, hastily built to cordon off
anyone the Stygians deemed “undesirable” during a period of consolidation. Failed powerbrokers
like the Strawman Kings, Apomene of the Razor Veil, and the Thousandfold Legion of Khisad
were exiled there to shame them, but they found its dispossessed inhabitants uncommonly
strong-willed, forging them into a city in their own right. Namtar’s rebellion was slow and
subtle, refusing to recognize Stygia’s laws and taxes one by one as it grew just strong enough to
press each issue. Over time, the strange geography of the Underworld shifted to reflect this
distance; today, the blackwood palisades of Namtar overlook a vast salt flat that separates it from
its mother city. Year by year, Namtar strengthens its hold over the afterlives and trade routes to
Stygia’s south, making open warfare ever more appealing to those in Stygia who remember the
abject misery it was originally intended to be.
Contemplation is a refuge for those Immaculates who find themselves drawn to Stygia’s
mansions by sudden death. These ghosts erected their own temple-complex on the hills beyond
Stygia’s eastern gates where they might better examine their moral failings and make themselves
worthy of their next life. Generations of Dragon-Blooded shades serve Contemplation as its
guardian council, leading their fellowship in proselytizing against the false faiths of the dead.
The conquest of Stygia and now the rise of cults like the Bishop’s Shining Way have softened
Contemplation’s judgment of the Transcendent Course, which at least recognizes ghostly
existence as imperfect and temporary; recent decades have seen them offer quiet support to
gondoliers and custodes after a rare visit from emissaries of the Dual Monarchs.
The isle of Egir is sacred, for only here can one find the dark orchards of the blood-apples,
impossibly red and sweet as regret. Egir’s moon-eyed caretakers are those who died in the throes
of ecstasy, and their memories nourish the orchards until they are left empty and smiling. The
Dual Monarchs made it a sanctuary during their long reign, but now the Signatories jockey
between one another for control. The Fallen Spear Imperium occupies it at present, but the Eemi
have begun to test their blockades, cursing ships with especially subtle necromancies. The priests
of the Transcendent Way and Stygian dignitaries alike seek a diplomatic resolution to the
growing tension between these Signatories, lest Egir and Stygia alike suffer in the crossfire.

Dari of the Mists

Where the Rivers Foundation and Revelation mix, they bathe the land in strange vapors as they
spread into a watery expanse. It is there one may find a city obscured by fog and vapor, lamps of
many-colored glass lit at all hours so its indentured masses need never stop the commerce of
their masters. This is Dari of the Mists, home to debt beyond death and wealth beyond measures.
From the waters of the rivers and the bay beyond, Dari’s inhabitants dredge up those who died
due to unpaid or unpayable debt. Peasants dead of exhaustion servicing loans are pulled wet and
gasping onto trawling barges alongside princes of the Guild who attempted to escape the
crushing debt of failed venture through suicide. What began as a primeval afterlife for the debt-
encumbered has become a polity in its own right, one which has crept into the faiths and
superstitions of usurious societies throughout Creation. To the people and ruling companies of
Dari, pauper and princeling are the same: another damp debtor rescued from the water, bound
into servitude to their rescuers until paid clear by their own deeds and toil.
The companies cast for indentures in different ways, but always to the same purpose. The Four
Quarters Company’s nimble craft fish the newly dead from the waters with poles of blessed
wood and ropes woven from widow-hair, leaving loops magically bound around their catch’s
waists until she can buy or work herself free. The Blue Sarong Society sends divers in, gently
helping the drowned onto the decks of gilded diplomatic craft where he will be dried and dressed
in fine garments that bind him to the Society’s purposes. Most prosperous and fearful of all, the
many-oared galleys of The Timeless Order of Manacle and Coin trawl for ghosts with clinging
nets, shackling them while they’re still soaking. Such is the welcome Dari of the Mist offers the
newly dead.

The City
Round huts and blocky houses on spindly legs line the edges of both rivers, safely above even
the worst high tides. The resolutely independent and intentionally unemployable flock to these
Tall Houses, as if distance from the city and its rivers could keep them from being enmeshed in
its commerce and intrigues. Largely they cannot; many provide for their afterlives with
occasional contract work for the companies and indebted at the city, and small boats going to-
and-fro are common.
The docks are enormous, visible as great looming shapes even through the thickest of Dari’s
mists. Built up over century upon century of growth, their lowest levels sink into the silt, while
the tallest piers see rigs swaying at building height, awaiting ocean-crossing ships from
Skullstone or other powerful ports such as the Jugurthintine Teeth or the Quiet Harbors. Day or
night, only the most fearsome weather can halt work, and many indentures count their hours to
freedom seeing to the transport of goods or upkeep of the facilities here.
Clusters of houses in foreign styles interspersed with impressive mansion-palaces border the
docks and crowd the waterfront. Potentates and merchants find odd neighbors here; one can
purchase Sijan funerary finery while in the shadow of the tastefully ominous Fallen Sky
Embassy, or pay enormous sums for agents of the Eye and Seven Despairs to offer weapons of
soul-shriveling horror. Ancient war texts of the Dawntime Keepers can be perused while
imbibing draughts suffused with memories of peaceful youths and torrid affairs, decanted in
lands further east.
Old Dari is at once less and more impressive. Its sprawling square buildings and tiered homes are
made of grey and white streaked stone, much of it from living cities that once gave Dari much of
its identity. With those long fallen, its inhabitants repair the occasional damage or construct the
rare expansion out of black Underworld rock and ghostly mortar. Many who dwell here were
once indebted, but unlike those of the Tall Houses, prefer a life of relative comfort in the city
once their slates are cleaned. Skilled artisans, silver tongued courtiers, and wise sages all offer
their services, often aided by indebted assistants whose contracts they’ve purchased or leased.
Throughout the Working Lanes, the companies keep their workforces close. Crowded barracks,
stacked flophouses, and tangled alleys between great tenements are kept out of sight by tastefully
manicured plants and art. Some indentured find their time strictly regimented by their contract
holders, and are often seen dashing to their next assignment. Over time, most adapt to the
strictness of their contracts and bosses, and turn to stealing as much time as they dare in
conversation and rare leisure amongst the covered walkways and tunnels that connect the
buildings. Gambling games such as Ivory Tiles and common dice are common amongst the
tunnels, as are shared meals when food is available. Interrupting such activities and disrupting
time clawed back from the companies is widely regarded as unconsciously rude, and ghosts that
flout the convention quickly find themselves dangerously unpopular.
Others, either due to the structure of their contracts or the preference of their debtholders, find
themselves with time to themselves. Some attempt to find companionship or purpose in Old
Dari, but quickly discover that many freed ghosts who remain consider it uncouth or unlucky to
tarry with those still locked in-contract. Some head to the docks and foreign quarter, finding dead
countrymen or friendly acquaintances amongst visitors.
The Lock and Tomb district dwarfs all the others in grandeur and import, many of the tallest
buildings looking out over the Working Lanes and toiling masses. Headquarters for Dari’s
powerful companies vie for space and primacy here. The offices of the Timeless Order of
Manacle and Coin move between their ever-expanding towers, the top levels given over to the
supremely powerful owners while servant-clerks and debtor-archivists labor below. The Blue
Sarong Society’s open air salons serve as both a demonstration of their mastery of aesthetics and
their impressive wealth, which the Four Quarters Company attempts to match with their famous
gilded gardens, plants preserved in undying metal and thanotic amber. Many lesser companies
now occupy the sarcophagus-tower of the fallen Bone Notch Register, decorating the approach to
the looming ossuary with their own public works, as impressive for the valuable space they take
up as their contents.

The Companies
Dari’s indentures find themselves twice-bound by the city’s properties: first by a supernatural
period of quiescence and agreeability that accompanies nearly every rescue, then by magically
powerful contracts enmeshing them within the company’s employ. These contracts writ into Old
Law give the companies and Dari as a whole its economic import and impressive Underworld
reputation. Each company has their own method, but their results are the same: they magically
prevent the indebted from stealing, revealing, or allowing harm to befall their employer’s goods.
The ancient imprint that suffuses Dari is one of contractual repayment, however, and not endless
servitude; even should the companies desire eternal slaves, the suasions of Old Law they rely on
abandon them if they try to take total advantage of their erstwhile servants, as the now-destroyed
Bone Notch Register discovered when they tried to sell their employees as chattel to foreign
interests. The powerbrokers of Dari watches as the Register’s overseers starved and withered
away into nothing but avaricious dust, an object lesson in those who dare too much.
Accordingly, while tasked with labors that may take them across the Underworld, most of the
indentured find their companies treating them as junior employees. And for many, the companies
will try to retain their services even after magical suasion expires. There are only so many who
die for debt, after all, and training a new employee is always a miserable chore.
The Timeless Order of Manacle and Coin
Not the oldest of Dari’s companies but certainly the largest, the Timeless Order is known across
the Underworld. Fearless, ruthless, and rapacious in its dealings, the organization takes after its
founder, the mysterious and powerful Sovereign of Chains (p. XX). The Order pulls more of the
newly dead from the waters every season, manacles and collars inscribed with terms of indenture
as one-sided and harsh as the Order can make them without risking the fate of the Bone Notch
Register.
Their employees transport cargo too distasteful for the other companies to unthinkable ports of
call. Stygian exiles and a healthy concern for foreign powers lead many of Dari’s companies to
shun commerce with the Deathlords, leaving the Timeless Order’s employees to oversee
caravans delivering doomed souls to the Thousand at the Lion’s command, grosses of war ghosts
and horrors to the Mask’s eager war machine, and the plunder of lost cities to the Lover’s
fastness.
Dari’s merchants likewise shrink from soulsteel, so the Sovereign of Chains gladly corners the
market, using it in shackle and sword alike. The Timeless Order pays a premium for contracts for
skilled artisans willing to work the material. Some of the Order’s high officers go so far as to
wear jewelry of delicately worked soulsteel in graceful loops and gleaming studs, the whispering
ornaments rumored to convey Underworld secrets to their bearers while unsettling their
counterparts in trade negotiations.
Indentured employees of the Timeless Order are constantly reminded that there are fates worse
than working under the Manacle and Coin, and so when the time comes for their debts to be paid,
many choose instead to stay on, clinging to the beast out of misplaced loyalty, ambition, or fear
of purposelessness. Some seek to rise in its ranks, holding the chains rather than being bound by
them; others have forgotten what it was to live at their own will, and see no afterlife beyond what
the Order offers.
The Geometer’s Daughters
Nam the Unceasing died mid-brushstroke, splattered ink leaving a dragon-line which ran across
the southern coast of the Blessed Island unfinished upon her final living map. She resumed in
death; Nam standing on the banks of the Foundation and the Revelation, pulling the dead from
water and mud. She handed them a clay tablet and stylus, and told her new assistants: “It is now
time to measure and write.”
The Geometer and her student-servants had mapped three safe routes from Dari to Stygia before
one suggested that she could, in fact, profit from maps of the Underworld. Nam and her growing
workshop moved from a tall-legged house surrounded by tents to comfortable stone abode in Old
Dari, and then, as the no-longer-indebted employees named themselves her daughters and pulled
more free to Measure and Write, a great mansion in Lock and Tomb.
The Geometer’s maps are as accurate as any of the Underworld can be, and centuries of
experience have refined her once-mortal arts. Local maps shift to correct themselves as safe
routes become dangerous or new shortcuts open up, while regional maps curl and slowly burn as
they become less accurate, warning their owners of outdated information through smeared lines
of ash. A few can even guide a traveler to ancient behemoth corpses, fallen Underworld stars
spilling out their last bright exhalations, or even into and through the myriad horrors of the
Labyrinth.
Nam cares more for mapping the world than she does for counting obols, but her eldest
Daughters embrace ambition. Many are willing to pay the exorbitant fees they demand. While
Nam has quietly provided geomantic survey information to the Eye and Seven Despairs to keep
her Daughters safe in the regions around Cold House, her Daughters attempt to play Dari’s other
companies, Underworld warlords, and even the agents of Deathlords against each other by
offering or withholding accurate maps and surveys.
The Four Quarters Company
It’s hard to get treasures from sunlit Creation in the Underworld. Even grave-persimmons
sweetened by the tearful prayers of relatives lack something of the original fruit, and lumber
harvested beneath the living sun gives finely grained furniture a palpable warmth. So when the
beloved outcaste-lord Paramount Torch died in unpaid gambling debts and found himself
indentured in Dari, he promised his debtholders a harvest from the living world, delivered by his
descendants through a shadowland route discovered in his travels.
His masters celebrated their fortune, until realizing that the terms of his contract had been met.
They briefly attempted to force Paramount Torch to stay in their employ, but discovered that his
daughter had sent the green jade daiklaive Spring Perfume along with the finest luxuries. He took
the company by its keen edge, traitors hewn down or bound with shackles of creeping vine.
Trading exotic Underworld rarities and lost treasures to his family in return for Creation’s
bounty, Paramount Torch was soon able to grow the Four Quarters Company larger and larger.
Befriending and sometimes freeing other Dragon-Blooded ghosts who hailed from across
Creation, the outcaste expanded a network of contacts and commerce between the living dead
throughout the Threshold. Reviled by Immaculate monks who know of it, the Four Quarters
Company offers the dead and the living the filial comfort of the ancestor cult alongside a promise
that is understood across Creation: Let’s all get rich.
Within Dari, Paramount Torch lavishly gifts company leaders and visiting worthies with
offerings of the sweet, fragile scent of life, gaining him many friends and favors. Many wonder if
the Four Quarters might one day outweigh the Timeless Order in influence and might, whether
through friends bought with heady memories of life, or at edge of ancestral daiklaives.
The Blue Sarong Society
Smiling, painted courtiers escort dignitaries from private tomb-palaces to Stygian galas,
gleaming ghostly blades at their side. A veiled and perfumed emissary offers a living prince the
hand of his lost love in marriage, bridging the world of the living and the dead. Lost children
miraculously return to their parents tell them about the nice lady who saved them, and the
prayers she told the parents to repeat for the next year in return. The doyens of the Blue Sarong
Society frown when porters of the Timeless Order claim that Society sells people. No, they
insist, they sell hope. Hope to reach one’s destination safely; hope to find the right lover, the
right partner, the right hand in the darkness of the Underworld. The indebted who dare bring up
the ethics of selling hope often find themselves assigned to less glamorous duties.
Always, the Society seeks to extend the debts owed to it past Dari’s contracts, enmeshing the
living and the dead in favors owed, promises spoken, and families entangled through chthonic
marriages. What was once a process of building up influence over stately decades and centuries
has now become a matter of years and seasons, as the Blue Sarong Society sees the Deathlords’
rise and the Timeless Order’s subsequent brashness a threat to their carefully cultivated plans.
The Society seeks ever greater influence over the living and the dead alike, agents undertaking
riskier missions and liaisons as the Society seeks to turn bartered hope and cultivated favor into
secret might, casting down the Timeless Order and seizing the Society’s rightful place as
supreme authority over Dari and its web of debt and commerce.

The Mists
Dari of the Mist cannot exist apart from the lands and clime which surround it and support its
strange undying laws. The city’s population is bolstered every year by the days of dry tides. For
a brief period, the air around Dari is clear and the rivers recede to a fraction of their flood height,
exposing banks of glittering mud and clay. A bumper crop of the indebted dead often squirms
there, insensate and helpless until rescuers dig them out and levy onerous indentures for their
troubles.
When the skies turn silver and the mist grows heavy and low, those in the Tall Houses make sure
they’re well secured, and those in the city proper check their ceiling for leaks, because the season
of the argent monsoons is upon them. Rain hammers the area for days, the rivers roaring to full
flood, and almost anyone who dares try to cross is swept away to darker waters. This is a
momentous day for many indentured, as the magic binding the longest-toiling to their aged
contracts fades regardless of the balance of their debts, freed by storming jubilee. Even those
whose contracts are too new or unfulfilled to be freed by the rain celebrate the day, looking to
the future as the unliving rarely do. There is an end, they whisper in the presence of contract
holders. There is an end, desperate revels in the Walking Lanes sing out. Companies who
disagree with the rain’s reckoning tend not to argue with the newly freed too loudly,
remembering the fate of Bone Notch Register.
The city’s titular mists vary in color and thickness day-to-day. Great respect is given to fortune-
tellers and mystics able to forecast the mist’s nature for more than a handful of days in a row, an
accolade rarely given out. Sometimes, though, they are able to give warning of particularly
dangerous or fortunate fogs, and so it is considered unlucky to ignore their advice.
The quiet mist seeps out of the sky on the blackest nights. All light from afar and movements of
the Calendar are blotted out, the smothering blanket of mists muffling sounds and making ghosts
doubt their own senses. It is a time when many of the dead are consumed by their inner demons,
when specters walk just beyond the city walls, and when only the brave or desperate travel. Even
the Timeless Order is loathe to send out its mighty caravans, unwilling to risk their investments.
The sour mists arise from the Revelation when it froths and the Foundation when it curdles,
greenish-yellow banks of fog that presage upheaval in the mortal world. Mediums and honored
ancestors listen for the amplified voices of those calling from Creation, while companies such as
the Blue Sarong and the Four Quarters consider it an auspicious time to begin Creationward
business.
One the rarest days, the fog billows crimson and golden, like a tired sun comes to consume Dari.
A great ghost arrives: the Unnameable, a leviathan-metropolis casting a gleaming wake in which
Dari floats like a minnow. Along with its passage comes memories of the city’s ancient dead,
and any ghost who can bring the Unnameable’s treasures back within Dari’s walls can secure
their existence for decades. The enormous wealth in treasure or knowledge is counterbalanced
by the assurance that any who remain within its walls when the golden-red billows subside will
disappear along with the First Age wonders. Some swear they have seen such unfortunates when
the Unnameable returns, acting out the passions of an ancient city which consumed them.

Neighbors
Pirates, smugglers, and renegades have taken shelter in the coastal shadowland of Fallen
Spindle for centuries, a sprawling settlement built around the broken spire of a First Age
lighthouse. In recent decades, Guild-affiliated traders have been seen more and more often,
dodging heavy tariffs, Realm-backed blockades, and angry local rulers in Fallen Spindle’s harbor
and crooked streets. Most of Dari’s companies conduct business with independent operators in
Fallen Spindle or use the shadowland to access the living lands beyond, but lately the Timeless
Order has begun to engage with Guild traders directly. Trade has rapidly increased, as
Underworld treasures and resources are traded for ever-increasing amounts of living veneration
and manacle-clad labor. The other companies already seek to move against the Timeless Order,
looking either to cut short its profitable relationship with local Guild factors, or to coopt it for
themselves.
The Invisible Towers loom and shimmer, starlight structures dating back to the First Age.
Ancient ghosts rule over the Towers, their ways arcane and alien to the living and younger dead
alike. Still, the oasis of safety they provide has allowed ghostly fortunes to rise, first as
Contagion dead traded away ghostly glass relics from Chiaroscuro’s founding in return for great
wealth, and then again as ghosts from the Delzahn and their subjects brought new grave goods
and tokens of veneration to trade. While little congress happens through the well-policed
Whispering Circle shadowlands, this has made the Invisible Towers an increasingly valuable
destination for Dari’s caravans. The companies hope to establish firmer footholds amongst the
Towers, nearing open violence as they fight to secure the lucrative trade routes. The Invisible
Towers’ rulers look on impassively as the companies struggle, assembling something strange and
dire from accumulated First Age components.
Many nomadic peoples across the South quietly prayed for their fallen relatives to find their way
to the Sweetwater Mirage even after Immaculate missionaries attempted to destroy the practice.
Ancestral mentors and heroic dead dwelled in the ephemeral oasis, lush with waters bittersweet
with memories of life and broad-leafed plants that break the heat. And then Timeless Order of
Manacle and Coin came. Unable to sway the locals with foreign goods or ensnare them in one-
sided trade deals, the Timeless Order resorted to brute force, seizing the oasis through bonded
war ghosts, and turning it into a hub for their ever-expanding interests in the South. So far, the
Timeless Order mercilessly stamps out any resistance, enslaving or soulforging those who resist
their rule, but the other companies have begun to make overtures to both the dead who call the
Mirage home and the living who wish to one day see it. Another uprising runs the risk of the
quiet afterlife being damaged beyond repair, but the companies consider that a worthy price to
pay for countering the Sovereign of Chain’s ambitions.

Kesundang, the Sword Mountain

Look now, to the horizon, and you will see it: Kesundang, the Sword Mountain, which once
belonged to an ancient being who tried to wage war against death itself to free its fellows from
her grasp. Its sword was embedded into the Underworld, and the city that bejewels its pommel
seems to touch the realm’s vague sky. From a distance, it is dappled in false moon and sun,
wreathed in clouds so thick and opaque that they are more like the strokes of a paint brush.
Kesundang is situated upon an island, and the winds that bring soul and sail to its shores smell of
cinnamon and ambition. Phantom serpents and direhide crocodiles dance near the island, so large
that they are mistaken for rocks and reefs. These serpents carry souls from other afterlives that
perform proper death rites to be ferried to Kesundang — souls who deserve some semblance of
glory, or some semblance of rest.
Who deserves Kesundang? What drives ghosts into the great land, where its city is segmented
into districts that run up and down its length? It is the primeval abode of mountain warriors and
the ever-striving, those who forge and temper themselves with ruthless dedication. There they
are incarnated as powerful beings of glory, worthy of ancestor cults. Many can become strong
enough to challenge the gods.
Others are borne to the mountain, the deathly Essence of Kesundang recognizing those that seek
glory and sovereignty. Ghosts who can survive the perilous Forest of Wandering Hunger at its
base can climb its royal road and find a burning city waiting for them. Indeed, Kesundang is no
stranger to visitors, to glory-seekers, to ghosts that wish for a better reincarnation. Therefore,
Kesundang is an eclectic city, as it appreciates ghosts from every culture. This has led to some
infighting, of course, and the great city atop the Hilt, known as the Naga Maw, has not yet
mastered unity through diversity.
Kesundang has three major regions: Sheath at the base of the mountain, Blade on the way up,
and then Hilt, where the great Ema Sarippad measures the life span of every mortal on Creation
after they have died. The grand city of Kesundang spans all of this, as the cultures that perform
its rites are segmentary states.

A Note on Segmentary States

Segmentary states are common in pre-colonial Southeast Asian urban
complexes, which serve as the main pattern for Kesundang. Segmentary
states very commonly have a single primary “segmentary capital” which
holds ritual power over the other cities that are parts of its segments. Each
city has autonomy, but is still considered as part of Kesundang as they are
all simply segments of a larger state.

Sheath
The base of the mountain is covered in a dense forest where hungry ghosts wander freely, never
able to find the path that leads higher into Kesundang. This is the Forest of Wandering Hunger,
and many Kesundang chiefs hunt down hungry ghosts and the phantasmic ogres who are born
when its blood monsoons mix with fetid muck. Even here, one can hear the dancing, singing, and
raucous laughter of those at Kesundang’s peak.
Within the forest cuts a river, and the river opens up into an indigo great lake, known as the Lake
of Satisfying Suffering. Traveling ghosts bathe in the lake to relieve wounds against their
Essence, but find their will tested whenever they attempt to leave the forest. If they succeed, then
they are free; if not, then they will find the lake again and again. Before they know it, the lake
consumes them, pushing back its shore inch by soul-taking inch. When the monsoons relent, the
lake drains to reveal the calcified souls lost in its waters, never to reincarnate.
The city of Mulang lies at the base of the mountain path that leads up its argent stone. Its silver
walls give the outpost-city a temple-like quality, as it is easy to chisel and craft intricate bas-
reliefs upon them. Particularly glorious ghosts who have come to rest in Kesundang travel here
to have their exploits crafted upon the ever-expanding kota wall.
Mulang is a large city that prides itself on the warrior-monastery where ghosts master the martial
arts travelers bring from across the Underworld. Mulang Temple houses various warrior-monks
that protect the city’s borders would-be invaders and erstwhile ogres. Whispers among the
Underworld’s prophet-winds sing of the inevitable seizure of the mountain by the First and
Forsaken Lion, and it is this that the Mulang warrior-monks perfect their diamond bodies to
defend against.
Mulang has cave paths that lead throughout the mountain, forest, and even directly to the shore,
but they have recently become infested with the mindless ghosts of indiscriminate slaughters.
Born of that same violence, a gigantic snake-spirit slithers across the paths, which have become
so large and convoluted that it can hide within it. Even the Mulang warrior-monks dare not face
it, having been given a name by those few who glimpse it from a safe distance: the Emerald
Serpent of Certain Repose.

Blade
Blade is a winding path that encircles the Sword Mountain. Numerous outposts and steadings lie
along its curves and bends, which takes days to be travelled in full. Saints and their pupils dwell
in these shrines and monasteries, purifying the ghost pilgrims who travel the Blade through trials
of ritual combat and grueling austerities, pitting ghosts against nightmare-beasts and tempting
them with wealth and pleasure. Most who dare the Blade settle there; having failed to achieve
glory, they instead perfect themselves and hone those who would attempt the same feat they
failed.
These holy rites are threatened by those specters who climb Blade themselves, having escaped
the masses that teem in Sheath. Denied entrance to Dragon Maw City, they vent their wrath on
any who dare the pilgrimage, becoming a trial in and of themselves. Exorcists seek glory by
stamping out these lurking horrors, banishing them to an appropriate torment such as the Azure
Lotus Inferno (p. XX).
Hilt
Atop the Blade lies the Hilt, where the slope curves into a U-shape like the mouth of a massive
snake. Beneath that curve lies the titular Dragon Maw City, where the dead dwell in glory. The
city burns brightly at night, its light obscured by clouds of brush strokes. There is a somber
melancholy, arriving here, at first — like one has arrived at the end of all things. This shatters
upon entering the city’s walls to meet its joyous inhabitants.
Here, death is not a curse or a punishment, it is a celebration. The great pagodas and stupas
connect to each other with holy ropes of red, black, and white. The kettlebells are struck every
hour. The brimming lights never dim, shining like bliss. Flowers and gardens are abundant,
overflowing. There is no need for want: rice and coconut wine are in excess here, alongside a
heady soma which mixes milk, wine, and honey. Communities form around drinking banquets
that stretch for days of revelry.
Of course, the joy comes at a cost. Most who dare the Sheath and Blade will be turned away at
the Hilt, or fall into despair along the way, or succumb to any of the thousand dangers that
bedevil those who make the attempt. There is no joy in Mulang or at the shrines of the Blade; it
evaporates like sweat, only to condense within the clouds of Dragon Maw City. That joy
sweetens the wine; that joy waters the gardens. If the Sword Mountain took no new pilgrims, that
joy would evanesce away, for the city’s delight is a stolen one.
The center of the city is the Palace Temple of King Ema Sarripad, enclosed in tall crimson walls,
with four stupas jutting out from each corner, halls stretching out in every cardinal direction to
create a cross. The peak of the palace is a temple with a giant statue of King Ema, eyes bulging
and lion-maned, many-armed so as to wield the responsibilities of a King: the spear for
protection, the thunderbolt for enlightenment, and the stylus for recording their subjects.

Pommel
The peak of Kesundang is silent and serene, a stark contrast to the joys of Dragon Maw City. As
one walks paths of quiet grass and blossoming hibiscuses, the sound of the city fades away into
nothing but bird-chirps. Pathways here are arrayed as the spokes of a wheel, and at its hub is the
Tree of Law and Life, a gigantic strangler fig with tree upon tree upon tree atop each other,
creating a pagoda of verdance. The branches and the trunk and the roots are all marked with
ineffable tallies, representing mortal lifespans in a counting system now lost to time, though
perhaps those that sing Old Realm can decipher it.
Ghosts that seek respite from the festivities of the city come up here to watch, to listen, to sing
and to meditate. They sometimes watch Ema Sarripad in the aspect of a woman with head shorn
as a sign of grief, wreathed in ivory burial raiment. Ema Sarripad is calm, and speaks with the
ghosts, and takes her time. She walks up to where the tree must be inscribed and she etches with
her stele — once for every death in all of history. There are no grand proclamations, even for the
greatest deaths; tyrants and paupers alike earn the equal dignity of a stroke of her stele. There is
nothing in existence simpler than death.
Everything happens, will happen, and will have happened. Here is the truth of death: it cannot
leave. Life cannot leave. Ema Sarripad cannot leave the Tree of Life. She knows that in the
dreadful march of time, the dead will destroy Kesundang, and she can do nothing about it. She
marks her own lifespan upon the Tree of Life.

Prominent Figures
The head of the Mulang warrior-monks is a woman named Lotus Blossoming Twice. She
wields a sword of razor-edged hibiscus, and is wreathed in lamellar made of blackened stone.
Stoic, devoted, and stern, she takes her responsibilities with grave seriousness, and expects the
same of the other warrior-monks who fight under command. She reserves her compassion only
for those who intend to climb the Blade whom she deems worthy, but unready, taking them into
her care for months or years of patient training.
The four corners of the city are guarded by the Four Kotapala, or City-Guardians. The north is
guarded by the Guardian-Hawk Vainateya. The south — where most travelers enter — is
guarded by the fierce Demon-Knight Wessowan, of the six hands, who wields a parasol folded
like a club. The east, where where the Garden of Plenty lies, is guarded by Graviya, the Horse-
Headed Fire-Wielder, who meditates at the edge of the rocky outcropping upon a burning wheel.
Finally, the west, where lies the dangerous path that leads up to the Pommel, is guarded by
Snake-Headed Sish, bound for five eternities as atonement for the sins of his last reincarnation.
He wields a diamond urumi, which when uncoiled completely can affect the flow of time.
The ghost known only as Delight is the hostess of Dragon Maw City; her silent signs call the
bells to ring or still at her discretion, and no banquet wine is taken before a drop is decanted for
her approval. Her golden palanquin may pass Sheath and Hilt without danger or trial, and so she
sometimes ferries those loved ones of Kesundang’s heroes who could not survive the journey
themselves — but always for a terrible price, such as centuries of service or the forfeiture of
treasured memories.

Neighbors
If Kesundang is a sword, the canyon of Rive — and the empire therein — was one of its great
swiping blows. Its towers are built of twisting iron, and gruesome foundries belch forth the
industrial smoke that comes from smelting the rich veins of soulsteel left from millions
slaughtered in the sword’s attack. Artisans and merchants dare the inner city only when a
northerly corpse-wind clears the smoke; even the breathless dead are otherwise reduced to
coughing fits if unaccustomed to the bilious miasma.
Stark Hallow rests in the shadow of Kesundang, on an island off its northern coast. Founded by
warrior-poets who deemed the indulgences of Dragon Maw City an empty temptation, Stark
Hallow is a complex of temple-barracks dedicated to a half-dozen ascetic philosophies. They
sometimes raid as high as the Hilt, tossing their spoils into the ocean as a grim object lesson to
the ghosts of Kesundang. The Hallow’s greatest ghosts render their corpus into ever-finer matter
until they become little more than whisper and presence.
The ghosts of Tsiwa dwell atop a crocodile behemoth; the lesser crocodiles who swim the waters
around Kesundang are its offspring, born of its cast-off teeth and scales. Here are gathered the
souls of those who died to the jaws of hungry animals, their corpus forever torn. The Tsiwa
sometimes intercept souls destined for the Sword Mountain, forcing them into a century of
bondage as a gladiator or jester for their amusement; those who acquit themselves well are sent
on their way with panoplies of crocodile-skin armor and ivory spears.

Afterlives
IF POSSIBLE, PLEASE FORMAT ABOVE HEADING BIGGER THAN A NORMAL LEVEL 1 HEADING—
THE FOLLOWING LEVEL 1’S ARE ALL PART OF “AFTERLIVES” UNTIL “SHADOWLANDS”
Cross the wind-swept plains and the fetid swamps of the Underworld, and you will find afterlives
beyond all counting. Some are primeval, arising from the Essence of death itself — battlefields
where dead soldiers waken to fight and fight anew; salt-blasted hells where murderers are
condemned to an eternity without slumber. Others are born of ritual and culture, shaped by the
living of Creation as home and haven for their honored ancestors.

The Moment of Flame and Darkness

The prison-city Fortitude was born of imperial collapses and carceral madness, the descendants
of criminals and condemned outliving their captors in the remains of the prison built to hold
them. Its Uznikane people of spend their lives in its hive of tunnels. From starvation to killing
cold to the constant power struggles between the ruling gangs, the occasional moment of solace
is all most Uznikane can look forward to, made worse by the belief that all are born under the
weight of curses and sins. Only great deeds and heroic deaths may expiate that burden; those
who die in obscurity disappear entirely. In death, both brave champion and forgotten wretches
find what was promised in the Moment of Flame and Darkness.
Those who seek the Moment of Flame and Darkness find an explosion, suspended in time. From
the great fumarole, towers of flame and shadow pierce the air; terraces and plateaus, floating
plinths float suspended by some instant of Underworld upheaval which simply never ended. This
is the Moment of Flame and Darkness, and for Fortitude’s dead, it is home. Fleshless heroes clad
in the colors of a dozen gangs leap between crumbling peaks and islands in the sky, while lesser
denizens scurry to maintain sparse encampments as close to the fire and darkness as they can
stand without being consumed.
Those who died in heroic deeds are unbound in the Moment of Flame and Darkness. Their death
frees them from the dread weight of hereditary sin just as excarnation under the open sky has
freed their flesh. The boiling darkness shelters them, hindering their senses not at all. They move
across shattered ground without concern, and from the flames they find only comfort and
warmth.
Strange merchants and savants search out the elements formed in the Moment’s endless
triumphal flame for use in esoteric constructions, necromantic rituals, or stranger industries. Few
outsiders are able to navigate the landscape, and so Fortitude’s dead find themselves presented,
many for the first time, with the possibility of abundance by retrieving flame-kissed treasures
and decanted darkness to trade with eager outsiders.
This trade attracts spectres and other horrors, avian-skulled things animated by maggot-light
seeking to consume the darkness. The common dead of the Moment often flee, unwilling to risk
an unlife newly rich in material rewards, or attempt to entice the often-formidable honored dead
to intervene on their behalf. Many unbound heroes throw themselves against Underworld
nightmare and spectre alike, whether in exultation of their status or as a desperate attempt to
confirm it.
Eyeless Horcha is one such hero. A champion still celebrated in Fortitude and much courted by
local dead desperate for her protection, it may only be a matter of time before some Underworld
potentate or even Deathlord lures her away from the Moment. Envoys from the the Lover Clad in
the Raiment of Tears seek to turn Eyeless Horcha’s love for her people to dust and poison, and to
make her a disciple of the Lover’s awful truths.
Those who died unremembered and alone in Fortitude’s tunnels, either as a pragmatic sacrifice
to the Buried God or from simple misfortune, find themselves as one with the Moment’s
darkness and flame. Many surrender their identities and personhood to this strange existence, but
others, driven by will or emotion, pull themselves free of the greater mass. Some, consumed with
hatred or anger, become those very horrors which threaten the Moment, like the Torch of
Consumption, a once-sacrifice to the Buried God and now an ever-burning wraith which seeks to
lead other monstrosities to assail the Moment or even Fortitude itself when one of the rare
shadowland-tunnels opens to allow passage between the worlds.

Ixcoatli’s Shadow
While Ixcoatli’s theomilitary teaches its citizens that reincarnation awaits those not chosen for
godhood due to heroic deeds, serpent-soldiers, raiton-priests, and servant-toilers alike find
themselves upon the Underworld’s shores as often as any others. For those who do not
immediately fall into despair or chase after unfinished business in the living world, this poses a
question: what do those unprepared for an afterlife do with one?
Ixcoatlitzlim soldiers who feel cheated of a hero’s death often see this as a time of testing and
waiting. Forming units from likeminded dead, they drill and train, preparing for some day when
they will be called again into action. For some, this keeps them sparring, mustering, and
sharpening themselves for centuries. Others find the skills they’ve brought from life and refined
in death in high demand in the Underworld, selling their services to whatever general, Deathlord,
or hero can offer them reward or purpose.
The Temple of Twiceborn Lives offers another answer to Ixcoatlitzlim ghosts. It is a great
edifice of black stone emerging from abyssal waters, where scholars beseech all to record their
memories, deeds, and understanding of the world. Ixcoatli’s greatest raitonfolk savants and
scaled generals have recorded wisdom, strategy, and advice within ebony scroll-cases and upon
basalt slabs, alongside clay tablets detailing the best way to skin bush-pigs written by human
hunters, and tapestries woven by nursery attendants illustrating how to prevent infant serpents,
raitons, and humans from quarreling. While the temple’s oldest curators can provide visitors with
an immense repository of knowledge, they remain silent on how exactly the temple continues to
expand so readily, or what lies beneath the dark waters at its foundation.
The common people of Ixcoatli die just as surely as its masters. People of the Greenstone clans,
humans and froglike beastfolk integrated into the Empire long ago, believe in even more
precisely regimented reincarnation and apotheosis. Their grave-settlements spill out around busy
barracks and temple tombs, platform-houses and half-sunken frogfolk abodes filled with shades
wearing serpent and ration masks, attempting to recreate the order of Ixcoatli’s high society in
their unlives.
The recently conquered people of the Great Canopy Towns offer lavish sacrifices in secret for
their dead, hoping to ward off harsh servitude they believe their deceased will suffer from their
conquerors. Their ghosts occupy soaring mansions larded with the gifts of the living, waiting for
demands from serpent-ghosts and raiton-shades which rarely come. Instead, they find themselves
trading with shades of the long suppressed Middle People, those caught between Ixcoatli’s
predecessor empires and subjugated by their unified might. With goods and magics cultivated
over centuries, gained through plutonian trade or Underworld raiding, the ghosts slowly build
and furnish their own city of the dead. Some wish to defy Ixcoatli in death, while others plan
more actively, seeing an underworld strongpoint from which to raid nearby shadowlands.
The living priest-generals of the theomilitary stridently oppose any contact with Ixcoatlitzlim
ghosts, engaging teams of exorcists and sacred spearmasters to expel any who insist on making
their presence known. The Imperial Dyarchs are rumored to take a more pragmatic view, and
several volumes of lost lore donated from the Imperial households to public-works temples of
late have been basalt slabs of uncertain providence.

Sky Pavilion
Long before the Immaculate Philosophy held sway in the Varang city-states, the Varangian dead
ordered themselves as they had in life: complex astrological calculations dictating hierarchy,
purpose, and import. Rejecting a sky of dead stars and the meager celestial motions of the
Calendar of Setesh, the dead of Varang erected Sky Pavilion through enormous effort, fueled by
lavish funerary processions and grave gifts: a structure covering all of the Varang lands-of-the-
dead, crystal simulacra of constellations gleaming in bejeweled light from a woven sky.
Their lives once guided by astrological prescriptions, Varang’s ghosts need simply look up to
follow the stars’ course in death. Those heretics who wished to seek undead accolades beyond
their astrological sphere were driven beyond Sky Pavilion’s borders. While these pariah-ghosts
are popular strawmen for the afterlife’s many problems, the truth is that Sky Pavilion creeks
under the weight of its ghostly notables. Princes and worthies were lauded for centuries with the
fabled Varangian consistency, ensuring that Sky Pavilion’s ranks swelled with generation upon
generation of noble ghosts unwilling to compromise their dignities in death. Their mausoleum-
palaces abut one another on regimented streets as if being squeezed ever tighter, and every
decision made requires the consent of dozens of high officials — ensuring that such decisions
rarely, if ever, get made.
Since the Realm’s conquest of the Varang and generations of Immaculate instruction, Varang’s
newer dead often see their ghostly existence as a failure to fulfill their astrologically appointed
duties. Those dead princes who reigned in Varang’s glory days attempt to instill civic pride in
the shades of their descendants, but that pride is undercut by the fact that Sky Pavilion’s titular
wonder is languishing. Its once-glorious mechanisms fall into disrepair year by year, and the
cloth-of-night that is its dome is pocked in places by holes where the milky un-light of
Underworld stars intrudes into their perfect order.
The treasures which Sky Pavilion barters away to secure partial repairs cannot be easily replaced
in an era of Immaculate dominance, but for many of Varang’s august dead, the guidance of their
manufactured sky is worth any price. Meanwhile, ghosts from less lofty spheres see an
opportunity to seize what was denied to them in life, the riches of Varang’s princes theirs if they
dare the ascent to mend the failing heavens…or, some now consider, collapse the entire system
along with the false sky.
Tsaati Sineth is one such iconoclast, dead no more than a decade and yet flush with ambition and
strengthened by worship from a particularly resilient ancestor cult. She agitates for a new system
that will cast all ghostly horoscopes into question, defining their spheres not by memories of
their day of birth, but by the hour of their death. She has found an unlikely ally in the shade of
V’neef Asima, a disgraced Immaculate who believes that such a system would send Sky
Pavilion’s worthies into despair — and leave them open to Immaculate correction, a deed that
she believes would ensure her auspicious rebirth.

The Drowned Island’s Fleet

Home to a legion of sailors and immigrants, foreign rites see many of Wu-Jian’s visitors returned
to the final destinations of their home ports and origins. Some, however, are laid to rest in Wu-
Jian’s own ceremonies, mourned by those who loved and respected them as their bodies are
committed to the sea, consumed by crematory flame, or interred in vanishingly rare grave vaults.
Those given the rites of Wu-Jian, whether by water or fire or earth, are given parting words
ancient beyond memory, told to “sail beyond the horizon.”
Paupers and artisans find themselves in small boats moored at the edge of a bleak place known
as the Drowned Island, supplied by funerary offerings for journey, should they be brave enough
to risk travel across Underworld’s waves. The rich and powerful awaken on the decks of great
ships, sometimes accompanied by rowing automatons or grave-good servants or guided by maps
of the midnight seas.
The same cannot be said of those who died unknown, unmourned, or unluckily in Wu-Jian.
While some find themselves in Stygia or a fitting primeval afterlife (p. XX), others find
themselves shipwrecked on the Drowned Island. They receive the land’s bleak hospitality, a
flooded nightmare overtaken by extrusions of the Labyrinth and patchwork shadowlands
suddenly overlapping with the worst parts of Wu-Jian itself. Parts of it lead to the Gyre (p. XX);
others to specter-haunted oubliettes. A ghost trapped on the Drowned Island can find themselves
in the presence of unexpected riches, as treasures and relics lost to the ocean settle amidst rotting
tides and slow century tides of mud.
At its edges, the smothered island rises to meet dockworks and piers maintained by those well-
provisioned dead who have yet to leave the island behind, or who have returned on some errand.
A berth on a moored ship can be pricey; many more die improperly commemorated than receive
Wu-Jian’s native rites. Ships of the dead sometimes offer transport to souls escaping the island
with absurdly one-sided terms, demanding centuries of service. The wealthy with ample space on
their ships sometimes wait to assemble entire crews of indentured ghosts to aid perilous
crossings, or demand a dead queen’s ransom to help desperate ghosts escape pursuing horrors
and clinging mud. Few intact ghosts hesitate to pay the punishing prices in return for escape
from the mire.
Despite this awfulness, the Dronwed Island sees frequent visitors from Creation. Grandmother
Fang, a Lintha necromancer, tasks lean and deadly hunting ghosts with dragging back
unfortunates for use as raw material, breaking from her people’s traditions by treating her
ancestors as mere tools. Mediums occasionally cast hopeful lures through brief, tempting
doorways, hoping to call forth the recently dead for bereaved or desperate families. And
members of the Millstone Children occasionally venture past the borders of the school’s pet
shadowlands, seeking to prove their mastery of Ivory Pestle martial arts against undead horrors
to claim senior status within the school’s ranks.

The Slow Gyre and the Splintered Steps

Travel by boat due west from Stygia’s walls and the waters of Underworld undergo a change.
Their colors shift from dark emerald and bruised purple to impossible shades of shimmering blue
and back once more. Currents pull black streams from elsewhere in the Underworld like dark
veins beneath the surface, converging on a maelstrom known as the Gyre.
When unfortunates meet the end of their lives suddenly and unknowingly to one of the thousand
ways one can die at sea or in a deep river’s flow, they often find themselves amongst Stygia’s
Blue Mansion (p. XX). The maelstrom, its strange currents, and the rotting hulks atop it await
different dead: mariners caught in grim realization that they’ve made a fatal error upon the deep,
caught in the great curl of waves they foolishly risked or the slow, inexorable disintegration of a
ship they knew they shouldn’t have boarded. Their afterlife is roaring wreck, the Splintered Steps
above and the Slow Gyre below.
The ships atop the ferment, shattered and broken, make up the Splintered Steps. Some are
floating platforms of calm; others partially sunken but never fully disappearing beneath the
surface. Small communities who died in the wake of battles and shipbreaking disasters often find
themselves here. Strange wrecks and hulls regularly arrive, whether from new wrecks or tugged
to the Gyre by its ceaseless currents, and dead sailors nervously pick over their remains.
Below, things stalk the Slow Gyre, from bloated specters to the gut anglers — inhuman, hook-
trailing hunters intent on dragging ghosts into the utmost depths. Sunken ship and whirled
detritus offer coverage and some manner of protection, and long-time inhabitants of the Gyre
defend their spaces viciously. Treasure ships loaded with lost tribute meant for First Age rulers,
Shogunate successor states, or dead Great Houses are staked out by ghostly remnants of their
crews or later treasure hunters, strife breaking out between their inhabitants when the Gyre
brings them closer. Newly arrived dead must either bargain for a space with the jealous masters
of these drowned vessels, or seize them by force.
The powerbrokers of the Gyre are patient, but vicious, forming a loose coalition known as the
Salvage Council. Broken Anchor, a gray-faced Lunar from the depths of the First Age, attempts
to assemble seaworthy vessels, though few meet his exacting standards. Admiral Trahn, once
know for ruthless valor in the far West, now trades with the occasional visitor with a ready smile,
seeking creature comforts to decorate his aimlessly drifting flagship. The First Age hull of the
Without Presumption holds the drowned court of the Dawn Princes; the flayed ghosts of the last
who tried to seize it from them are staked still-writhing to its hull.
The Salvage Council works to claim half-sunken ships, forming a shifting staircase to the bottom
of the Gyre itself, where stranger treasures still can sometimes be dredged from its treacherous
depths. They grant entrance to their own scavengers and those of potential allies — notably the
Eemi League by long-standing agreement, but recently, overtures have come from envoys of the
Silver Prince.

The Flint Teeth

Covered in caves and twisted wilderness, the ragged islands in the Stygian archipelago known as
the Flint Teeth are occupied by those who died far from home in the hunt or on impossible
quests. Awaking in the depths of its caverns, most of its ghosts dedicate themselves to pursuing
enigmatic quarry: obsidian-footed oryxes, phantom-raptors with feathers of condensed regret,
and man-sized cobras that move through stone like fish through water. It is an afterlife of endless
pursuit — sometimes as hunter, and sometimes as hunted, but forever moving, seeking, hoping
that some greater trophy is over the next hill.
The treasures wrung from the hides of the Teeth’s beasts can make any hunter wealthy, if they
are not torn to bits and devoured beyond recovery. Split-faced Khor hunts many-eyed antelope,
black-winged cranes, and great skinless bears with skills he once used for his sorcerous masters
in Ysyr, offering their butchered parts in trade for news of the shades of Ys sorcerers, so that he
might hunt them in turn. The venerable Fen Amsi stalks the wraithsome things that walk out
half-flooded coastal tunnels, trading their braided sinews for tokens of the living East. Loshan
Vu, failed usurper of Gem, proudly pays tribute to Fallen Spear Imperium with weapons forged
from corpus-rending fangs, and claims a (largely theoretical) governorship over the Teeth in
return.
The ghosts of the Teeth hunt above, and seek below. Memories and desires unmet congeal in the
deepest darknesses beneath the afterlife, filling subterranean chambers like trickles from an
aquifer. Some ghost drink deep, eventually dissolving in the bittersweet memory of goals
desperately sought after but never obtained. Such terminal passions can be distilled; those who
drink them are consumed for a time by the fervent, unmet desire of the twice-deceased.
Others, however, pull themselves away, once-fatal endeavors now fueling them to great deeds in
their ghostly existence. The Abhari heretic Wazima Sufyen emerged determined to return to her
home and preach her visions of the true gods of death to the living; the fallen cartographer
Unwavering Script began mapping the waters of the Underworld; and Manosque Kryallo fills an
armory with grave weapons and horrific Underworld magics in preparation for his vengeance
upon the Scarlet Dynasty.

The Arid Scape

Blasted by dust-filled wind and swirling cyclones of plutonic salt, baked by horrid failure-suns
which shed only heat and desiccation, the Arid Scape welcomes those who die of thirst or
heatstroke. The brackish rivers Deadweight and Blacktongue curl around its base, while the salt-
seared Metody’s Breath cuts its way through its northern plateau. While outsiders caught in the
storms may be destroyed if they don’t find shelter, those dead who have already perished through
desiccation and heat once find themselves inured to its effects. Many are reduced to withered and
leathery figures by the Scape’s conditions, armoring themselves in their own baked skins.
The Arid Scape is a harsh land of extremity, imagined variously by its inhabitants as either a
hellish punishment or a crucible for those with the will to endure. Many of its unfortunates find
themselves ill-suited to the Underworld beyond; even if they wanted to leave, their heat-
hardened flesh rejects other climes as desperately cold. The waters of the Underworld are a
wretched, icy bane to them, and so they tarry within the Scape and become all the more bound to
it by the day.
Still, the ghosts of the Arid Scape find meaning wherever they can. Eyeless Maheka Kei stalks
the outskirts of Scape when she is not meditating within the storms at its core, her slow death by
dehydration in a military bunker having given way to religious devotions to Pasiap. Wine
merchant Wide-Palm bargains with visitors for vintages from Creation and the Underworld alike
with purified salts from the Scape’s inner layers, refusing to leave until he finds the remains of
the caravan he died leading. Coal Heart, a fae-blooded warrior who once threatened cities across
the South before being captured and executed through exposure by a southern Realm garrison,
recruits warriors able to survive the Arid Scape’s climes for the First and Forsaken Lion in return
for a promised place in the van should the Lion’s forces move against the Realm. Those whose
flesh is not yet accustomed to the trials of the Scape sometimes leave by the nearby rivers, the
gondolier Tall Liu often offering passage to less harsh climes.

Other Afterlives
In the humid Fields of Jamiyun, ghostly farmers toil and laze in the oppressive heat of a never-
ending summer. The ghosts here died of exhaustion amidst their labors in fields and rice paddies
throughout Creation. It is a languid afterlife, tiring but peaceful under the rule of King Jamiyun;
neighbors war against one another to control the roads in and out so they might dominate its
export of cereals and grains rich with the reverence of honest work. These rivals join together
only to fight the Three Bandit Kings, specter-warlords who bedevil the Fields of Jamiyun
infrequently with scourges of flame, frost, and locusts.
The Azure Lotus Inferno is a valley of wicked beauty, covered in gorgeous lotuses that bloom
despite an abominable cold. This grave-chill freezes a ghost’s corpus, making the phantasmal
echoes of blood and tears run sluggish in their forms. The valley is one of many primal afterlives
that ensnares the souls of those who die weighed down with guilt for their sins, and those who
try to leave find themselves buffeted back to the valley by winds of driving hail. Slowly, these
wretched ghosts become lotuses themselves; the daring sometimes venture into the valley to
retrieve petals for use in necromantic rites, or to consult the semi-sentient voices that dwell in the
valley’s winds, speaking in a rattle of lotus seeds.
In the cavern-fortress of Seizing, avaricious ghosts burrow bare-handed through yielding
Underworldly stone in search of veins of gold, electrum, and the rare soulsteel of those whose
tunnels collapsed and crushed their corpus in ages past. Pale echoes of the Whispers of the
Neverborn enflame the greed of all who dwell here, transforming them into misshapen serpents,
ever-hungering to amass wealth that they will never spend. A perilous shadowland tunnel
sometimes connects Seizing to the depths of one of Uluiru’s nearly-emptied mines, where the
destitute and desperate sometimes unwittingly stumble into death’s realm in search of treasure.
Wan Akore is one of the Underworld’s failed moons, a lumpy mass of barely luminescent
bleached coral. It fell into the Sea of Shadows long ago, and now wanders its waters like a
moving island. Ghosts who come ashore — whether as explorers or the newly dead caught in its
tides and gravity — find the hospitality of the necromancer-sage Zalar, who offers them feverish
delights. Those who succumb to his charms will remain on Wan Akore, slowly calcifying into
coral so the moon may grow larger, corpus by unwitting corpus.
The Peregrination is a cathedral that ambles on great legs of gristle and ivory; the ghosts of this
afterlife follow in its wake, for they are the souls of pilgrims who died in their journeying. It is
the fondest hope of these ghosts to ascend the cathedral, overtaking it during one of the rare
moments when it stops as if to survey its surroundings, but few can make the sheer climb
required to surmount it. Those who manage are welcomed by the cathedral’s attendants, who fete
the pilgrim, anoint them in sacred acid-oils, and pour their dissolving corpus into a vast reliquary
chalice. Powerful ghosts sometimes visit to sip of the distilled wisdom of those worthy souls,
gleaning strange insight or visions of the distant past.
Sometimes, when one of the Underworld’s unreliable relict-moons shines just bright enough,
travelers may find the Protruding City, which hangs from the vault of the gloomy sky like a
chandelier. It is a muted, silent place; sounds distort as if submerged in water. Its ghostly citizens
regard visitors with sorrow, ennui, and resignation, for communication is impossible — they
have no mouths to speak nor hands to sign or write, and more esoteric attempts draw the
attention of many-eyed horrors who otherwise slumber in the city’s bowels. Savants claim that
the city is a cage for the souls of those who died as assistants in some First Age working, bound
to keep their master’s secrets beyond even eternity. The Lover sometimes visits to study the nine
obelisks at the city’s heart, gleaning some necromantic wisdom from their ever-changing
inscriptions; in rare moments of mercy, she unmakes a willing supplicant from the city’s silent
ghosts, granting them the reprieve of oblivion.
In the phantom-forges of the Ruined and Rattling Temple, smith-ghosts worn down by time to
little more than strong-backed silhouettes operate pyreflame furnaces to continue their life’s
labors. The halls are hung with masterpieces, born from the smelted reminiscences of master
artisans and warriors, alloyed with Underworldly iron. They rarely work in soulsteel, and then
only when a would-be-client stirs all seven forge-lords with rare pleas of heartbreaking
beauty…or dire sacrifices of gore and vengeance, which ancient pacts compel them to accept.
Authors who die believing another living soul has never read their greatest works incarnate in
Manuscript, a wistful, melancholic place of weathered columns and aqueducts that flow with
ink. Many go through a ritual of unwriting their manuscripts by reading them aloud to their
assembled peers, each time removing one word from the text, until it is gone. Some leave pauses
where the words once were, which stretch on agonizingly over the iterations, while others
remove the silences, lending their work a poetic quality as it dwindles. Listeners often find that
these fragmentary works contain details of the linguistic and historical traditions of cultures
found nowhere else in Creation, though the authors may have difficulty recalling when their
accounts are factual or fictional.
Those who find joy in the art of combat revere the colosseum called Tournament. Dead and
living warriors venture there hoping to meet the mythic founders of their arts, learn puissant
techniques, and reunite with fallen friends or foes. Many cannot withstand the maelstrom of
Essence generated by the duels within its concentric walls; ramshackle viewing platforms and
scrying devices litter the approach. Within the first wall, hopefuls endure esoteric regimens of
training and sparring until they are winnowed out or defeat one of the Ostiaric Instructors. The
second ring, though populated exclusively by ancient legends and other mountain-shattering
savants, retains an aura of camaraderie, even tranquility. Here, even blood-crazed berserkers and
corruption-drowned monstrosities may find an end to their rampages and a path towards self-
mastery. Within the final, translucently-thin wall, three forms face each other, poised in stances
of utter martial perfection. Whenever one of them shifts to a more advantageous position, a
flurry of analysis ripples through the community, venerated manuals penned or rewritten.
Stalker’s Lair is a mist-shrouded chain of forested islets featuring halls whose baroque
architecture is riddled with secret passages and intricate puzzles. The ghosts within enjoy a
contemplative afterlife, punctuated by moments of abject horror as they are fed upon by a many-
legged behemoth, semi-aquatic and feline. The hunter devours bites of their memories as its
food, and drinks in the resulting fear and confusion. It processes the memories into compressed
spheres glowing Essence, which it regurgitates into caches scattered above and below the water.
Debates over the solutions and functions of the various puzzles, methods for avoiding or sealing
the beast, and the reason for the current conditions are constantly shifting as ghosts lose and
regain memories they can only hope are their own.
The Dragon King cycle of reincarnation follows its own rules, many of their souls remaining
long-dormant in their unhatched eggs, and some walking the Underworld’s Nineteen-Gates
Road, which weaves through a complex series of interconnected afterlives. It carries their souls
through trials and lessons, sharpening or correcting their instincts. Passing through the One-Pack
Gate requires collaboration between the isolated, and those who corrupted their Essence with
monstrous acts must purify it by enduring the Waterless Realm and the ordeal of the Sun Gate at
its end. Other ghosts, and the rare, determined hero or scholar, are permitted passage through up
to eighteen Gates, marking them as friends of the Dragon Kings and some assimilating the
culture enough to make a home of the worlds they’ve journeyed through.
The dead of the Anointed Steppe are wrapped in scrolls covered in intricate print, expediting
their passage through The Queues. Ghosts process along jade walkways which intersect and
diverge as their exacting bureaucratic requirements dictate. Elaborately-masked sacred animals
interrogate the ghosts and process their scrollwork at endless checkpoints. Their heroic and
shameful actions are recorded and tallied, the ink flowing from the scroll to manifest into an
ethereal display or condense into a physical bauble, gradually freeing the ghost of its
attachments. Rarely, especially enlightened or heinous memories materialize as half-sentient
entities or artifacts of numinous power, which are ferried away by efficient squads of spirit
animals to be safely stored until they can be allocated to appropriate descendants and
reincarnations.

Shadowlands
IF POSSIBLE, PLEASE FORMAT ABOVE HEADING AS IF IT WAS BIGGER THAN A LEVEL 1
HEADING—THE FOLLOWING LEVEL 1’S ARE ALL PART OF THE “SHADOWLANDS” SECTION
There are places where the lands of the living and dead intersect, coexisting in an ambiguous
peace. These are the shadowlands, where the two worlds share a common boundary. These
liminal spaces prove useful to anyone with plans to move from one realm to the other — ghosts
with unfinished business, enterprising traders, and grieving lovers alike.
During the day, the shadowland’s borders lead to Creation. Any traveler seeking to escape the
Underworld need only find a shadowland and wait for the sun to rise to make their way back to
the world of the living. At night, the reverse is true — those who leave its borders find
themselves in the Underworld instead. Regardless of the time, humans and ghosts can physically
interact without the need for any magical intervention, making corpus as solid as flesh.
Though shadowlands offer easy access to the dead, they are not welcoming places of respite.
Few crops grow within them; sunlight drifts to the ground as if through a perpetual cloud cover;
forgotten horrors from the depths of the Underworld crawl to the surface. Enough time spent in a
shadowland warps the body and mind of the living. Where the Wyld chaotically transforms,
shadowlands draw their residents ever closer to death. Thoughts become morbid and macabre.
Physical bodies become pale and gaunt, as if afflicted with illness. Some mortals resist this
change easily, while others succumb to death quickly and join the ranks of the Underworld's
ghostly population.
Ghostly blessings and ritual magic can mitigate the worst of these changes, but not prevent them
utterly — those who dwell within a shadowland are always marked by its influence in time.
Those who dwell among the dead for generations often become accustomed to the strangeness of
the shadowlands and the Underworld, with wraithsome features like sickly-pale hair, razored
fingernails, or milk-white eyes that see what the living cannot.
Animals may change as well, becoming skeletal, frightening versions of themselves. Docile
labor beasts take on aggressive tendencies or develop a taste for blood, while companion animals
obsess over protecting their owners to a lethal degree. In rarer instances, exposure turns ordinary
creatures into shambling monsters who feast on the living and threaten to escape into Creation if
not contained. Flora are similarly affected, spreading forests of ivory-barked trees and toxic
fungi.
These factors make forming a homestead in a shadowland challenging and undesirable. Those
who choose to make their livelihood within one are desperate, compelled by death, motivated by
faith or belief, or some combination of them all.

Origins
Shadowlands rise from a variety of circumstances, but the most common by far is an atrocity
resulting in mass death. These include sites of major battles, cities ravaged by plague, or the
aftermath of a great fire or flood. In the wake of these events, the two worlds press violently
against one another, forming a shadowland. This is not inevitable. Funerary rites and community
mourning can forestall or prevent the development of a shadowland, settling the roiling spirits of
the dead. Powerful militaries like the Realm have corps of exorcists and mourners follow in train
with their soldiers to consecrate battlefields.
Other shadowlands emerge as the result of obscure processes, creating places where the veil
between the two worlds is naturally porous. Poetically-minded academics refer to these
improbably ancient passages as the eldways, and opine that they marked the journeying of
forgotten gods or deathly powers that predate the Divine Revolution. Others are cyclical,
appearing and disappearing by some enigmatic calendar — including the shadowland known as
the Grief of Meru, five years overdue to open again on the western slope of the mountain at the
center of the Blessed Isle by the reckoning of long-dead savants.
Necromancy can tear open shadowlands as well. Reckless or overzealous necromancers
sometimes rip at the fabric of Creation, their magic seeking to make the world more like the land
of the dead. These shadowlands are oft tainted by the nature of the careless spell that brought
them into being, creating breathless chasms, geysers of blood, or barrows haunted by music that
lures in unwary mortals to partake of a dance that will last the rest of their short lives.
Other deathly powers create shadowlands on purpose. This is difficult and costly, especially
when compared against the expedience of wholesale slaughter, but sometimes subtlety is worth
its expense. Necromantic workings, geomantic manipulation, and rare treasures are applied to
knit together the worlds of living and dead. Rare phalanx-fruits sometimes blossom on the
outstretched hands of certain behemoth-corpses; when planted in Creation, they sprout ashen
trees laden with ebony leaves in a matter of days, sucking the land’s vitality dry in one greedy
gulp to leave a shadowland behind.

Settlements and Cultures

While shadowlands are fraught places for the living, that doesn’t stop the people of Creation
from building their homes within or nearby. Those who dwell near sometimes grow accustomed
to their unique opportunities for travel and interaction with the dead. Closing a shadowland is
dangerous and costly, and often outweighed by the emotional appeal of being able to tarry with
departed ancestors. When the Elk-horn Clan of Ipshua closed their shadowland with a rite of
breathtaking beauty and complexity, it deprived them of certain knowledge — secret routes and
obscure medicines — that doomed the clan’s survivors.
Places situated near shadowlands often develop unique economies centered on their dealings
with the dead, in talisman-hung districts where laborers may tarry in the shadowland proper with
tolerable safety. Clientele often include both the recently and the long-since deceased, causing
merchants, night wardens, and street vendors to dabble in ancient turns of phrase to better suit
their customers. It’s not uncommon for such ventures to retain long-outdated social customs,
especially in shadowlands presided over by elder ghosts of significant power.
Ancestor-venerating cultures that do not live within the shadowland make frequent pilgrimages
to visit their dead. Ghostly wayhouses often crop up in response to this, providing nourishment,
clean water, and places to rest to accommodate living visitors. Those who run such wayhouses
may become information brokers, with eyes and ears that bridge the gap between worlds. Exiled
custodes of the Dual Monarchs sometimes create such wayhouses, or else seek to initiate their
owners into the Transcendent Course. Merchants traverse shadowlands as often as pilgrims,
charting routes to the Underworld that trade the perils of death for the expedience of its mutable
geometry.
Those rare communities who dwell entirely within a shadowland often struggle for fresh food
and water. The solutions are many and varied, with some focusing on trade with neighbors in
Creation proper, offering up strange prodigies and treasures in return for staple crops, meat, and
other foodstuffs. Others depend on fragile magic — geomancy, thaumaturgy, and ancient
workings — to create pockets of flourishing life. These gardens and greenhouses are precious,
both costly and difficult to maintain.

The Skullstone Archipelago

In the vast shadowlands of the Skullstone Archipelago, Underworld stars illuminate black
beaches. Living and dead co-exist in harmony under the Sable Order, in the Silver Prince’s so-
called perfect society. But splendor in death foments intrigue, and the living chafe against
inequality. Skullstone faces a time of great change — to its ideals, empire, and people.

An Aristocracy of Death
In Skullstone, those soon to die present themselves to the Black Judges, esteemed necromancer-
justiciars. Those whom the Judges deem worthy become thanatocrats — ennobled ghosts, whose
corpses are preserved in funerary clothes and doused in incense and perfumes. Thanatocrats
display their bodies like withered treasures, with some among them learning to pilot them at
night. They rule over the living in luxury, take leading positions in government and religion,
commanding reverence from their descendants; the most-celebrated dead of Skullstone have
festivals thrown in their name, orchestrated by families of means.
Every major island of the archipelago is home to several Black Judges, but it is thought that they
look most favorably upon those who make their final pilgrimage to the capital of Onyx, perhaps
recognizing the dedication of the dying, or that the Silver Prince himself might spy them from
overlooking Mount Vashti. Strange elixirs and folk medicine are sought after to delay the
moment of death until one can be brought before the Judges. Altogether, roughly one in eight
citizens become thanatocrats, a plurality of whom are drawn from Skullstone’s ruling and
colonial elite.
Those deemed unworthy or who die away from a Black Judge are made into mindless zombies
by morticians of the Gentle Hands of Renascence. All zombies are property of the state by
default; families who want their loved ones back — which is most, for sentimental purposes —
must purchase them at steep price. Most zombies are stripped of their flesh, but can be embalmed
on commission or at state request. They’re commonly dressed in funerary masks and robes, and
perfumed if embalmed.
Zombies are the engine that powers Skullstone: they farm and mine, dredge for ocean treasures,
build and crew ships, and perform other simple, physical labor to free the living from the toil that
is common elsewhere in Creation. Even poor families have a few zombies to work their fields,
and the wealthiest own hundreds or thousands. Theft or destruction of a zombie, or failure to
report a death and hand over its corpse, are offenses punishable by execution, prosecuted
viciously by House of Night inquisitors. Most zombies persist for a few decades at most before
their body finally disintegrates; precious favorites are given thaumaturgical treatments to
preserve them for centuries.
While the Sable Order promises eternal splendor, even great thanatocrats eventually succumb to
Lethe’s release. This is seen as a defect of character, a fault in either the thanatocrat or her
family. Truly ancient thanatocrats are tethered to Creation by prayers of thanks at dusk and
dawn, the cultivation of attachments and inflaming of passions, and ceremonial gift-gifting.
Rarely, the Silver Prince interferes directly, preventing a thanatocrat from passing on according
without sharing his reasons for doing so. Deliberately forcing a thanatocrat to pass on is a dire
insult to the whole family, the likes of which initiates blood feuds.
Within the shadowland’s bounds, it’s rare for ghosts to occur naturally. Those that do have not
earned their afterlife, and are shunned at best, exorcised violently at worst. Hungry ghosts are put
down with expedience, or else captured and bound to serve the state.

The Archipelago
The Skullstone Archipelago is synonymous with the empire that rules it — once, it held its own
name, but few endure who remember. Its largest islands are dead volcanoes, the rest small islets
strewn across the cold ocean. Skullstone enjoys little of the moderating current that warms the
Great Western Archipelago; fog is constant, with mild temperatures in the summer and bitterly
cold snows all winter. The weather fluctuates weirdly when winds blow in from the Underworld,
such as rains of blood. Littoral waters are stained dark through commingling with the Sea of
Shadows.
The entire archipelago and its waters lay inside a shadowland, expanded over centuries from
Darkmist. On the rare clear day, the sun is weak; little in the way of large flora lives there, while
precipitation and fog are nigh perpetual. Erosion is a universal problem, necessitating constantly-
maintained earthworks to prevent landslides, as well as import of chalk to reduce soil acidity for
farming. Of the archipelago's many mountains, only Mount Vashti has endured unscathed,
preserved by the Crown of Eternity's unique geomancy.
The archipelago is divided into two parts: the Heart Isles in the west and the Dependency in the
east. The Heart Isles consist of Darkmist — largest of the archipelago’s islands by far — and the
neighboring Greyshores, Cormorant, Seagate, and Stark’s Reef. They’re the coldest, wealthiest
and most populous part of Skullstone. Population concentrates in and around Onyx on Darkmist
and on coasts, with interiors sparsely populated.
The Dependency refers to the rest of the archipelago, whose islands are all present or former
protectorates undergoing the final steps of assimilation. These islands are smaller, warmer and
flatter. Its peoples have integrated into the empire and largely view themselves as Skullfolk,
though individual islands often practice old traditions modified to Sable Order orthodoxy. Some
forsake their island identities in favor of presenting themselves as distinguished subjects of the
Silver Prince, with dreams of becoming wealthy and retiring to Onyx. Others, from more
recently incorporated protectorates, quietly preserve their identities and traditions; but even they
are believers in the Sable Order, by and large, their homes shaped by the years of cultural
hegemony.
Both regions maintain their own tensions. Bandits and dissidents populate the mountainous
highlands of the Heart Islands; a group of noble politicians were driven from Cormorant by the
Prince for refusing to relinquish lands to the state, where they went on to conquer Kerkeis (Heirs
to the Shogunate, p. 246). The Dependency decays under high taxation rates and minimal
governmental aid, and pockets of would-be rebels seethe across it, wary of the last group who
tried — and failed — in the Nineteen Nights of Shame.

Society and Culture

Skullfolk tend towards olive skin with dark eyes and coiling hair in black, blue, or white.
Albinism is common, especially in the heart of the empire where bloodlines have lived for
centuries in shadowlands. Well-fed, they’re unusually tall yet prone to a gauntness that belies
strength and health.
Traditional Skullfolk clothing is made from wool and leather to keep out the cold. Belted dresses
and tunics are worn under hooded cloaks, robes or greatcoats; hair is braided or worn up under
head coverings. Obsidian, amethyst and silver jewelry are common among all classes. Most
clothes are severe blacks, grays, and browns; in cities, elites flaunt bloody crimsons, gentle
violets, bone-white ivories and hadal blues. The pious and conservative dress in imitation of the
dead, donning ornate shawls, grease body-paints, and perfumes.
In the hinterlands, goats and sheep graze heath, lichens, and seaweed to produce dairy; strange
fish, seabirds, and seals go into stews. Zombies farm crops that are hardy or touched by death:
bonewheats, legume, and root crops. Sickly-sweet berries make jams and wines; elites in Onyx
enjoy candies, soft breads, and rich blood soups, while sailors eat preserved pemmican.
Northwestern whale blubber and spices from the Neck — especially black pepper — are highly
prized.
Buildings comprise vast slabs of basalt, bonded with plaster and roofed with mud brick. They’re
built partially into the earth, often with interior columns and vestibules for storage and shaking
off snow. Murals and quilts commonly cover surfaces. Wooden furniture is a sign of wealth;
wooden architecture, unimaginable decadence. Chimneys burn coal in the winter, making smog a
problem in cities, but thanatocrat estates are seldom ever heated, leaving living descendants to
make do in the chill.
Highly literate, Skullfolk enjoy novels, plays, calligraphy and poetry. Word games are a regular
pastime, sparring over clever allusions, witticism, and riddles both in salons and through letters.
Aspiring bureaucrats flaunt their talents, hoping to impress their peers and superiors.
Skullstone exports tin, fine arts, sealskin, precious metals and gems, wines, and strange
shadowland treasures like Darkmist velvet, and imports fruits, spices, sugar, tobacco, timber,
charcoal, and silk. Its closest trading partners are Azure and the peoples of the Neck, who are
often preyed on economically with draining import quotas and exclusive export deals, often
enforced at spear point. Skullstone also facilitates trade between the Underworld and Creation
for a fee.
Skullfolk are clannish, raised in close proximity with their extended families, and have a
reputation for chauvinism tied to Sable Order values. Abroad, this feeds into their image as
reserved, aloof, and enticingly taboo; domestically, they view each other as proud, loud, and hot-
blooded. They keep strange hours, as the dead prefer night when they can become corporeal.
Families name children after thanatocrat ancestors, or after favored ghost-saints whom the family
wants to watch over the child. Virtue names drawn from ideals and imagery of Sable Order
philosophy and poetry are given to foundlings and taken by the religious. Examples include
Alabaster, Brume, Clarity, Darktide, Fidelity, and Passion.

Between Life And Death

Skullstone remands all Ghost-Bloods into the custody of the state, citing
that their half-dead status circumvents the Sable Order. Children of any age
must be taken if discovered; unregistered adults are jailed. The Ministry of
Harmonious Divisions sends each Ghost-Blood somewhere they’ll be
carefully observed and able to serve the state: bestowing them as charges
to bureaucrats or state necromancers, indenturing them to cloisters or
tradesmen, or, at the Silver Prince's discretion, taken as palace servants or
trained as lictors (p. XX).

Government
Skullstone government is strongly centralized around Onyx, with most its ministries
headquartered there. Examples include the House of Night’s tax collectors, accountants and
census keepers; the Gentle Hands of Renascence who train Black Judges and whose morticians
maintain thanatocrats’ reliquary-corpses; and the Office of Holy Travail, who oversee
earthworks, zombies and their labor. Becoming a bureaucrat is a sign of virtue and sagacity as
well as a guarantor of wealth, providing better lives for the aspirant’s whole family — if she
passes the grueling annual examinations hosted in Onyx. Corruption can buy positions, but an
incompetent bureaucrat humiliates her entire family.
Two assemblies advise the Silver Prince. The Elder Council numbers seven of the most
influential and esteemed thanatocrats, who advise on matters of foreign policy, economics, and
war. Members hold their seats for centuries; new members are appointed by the Prince from the
Younger Council only when a member passes into Lethe.
The Younger Council numbers seventy members living and dead. Governors — traditionally
living bureaucrats appointed as heads of each island — automatically hold office, comprising
around half; the rest are nominated from the Black Fleet, merchants, ministries, and noble
families. This office is largely ceremonial, serving as a sinecure and vector of intrigue. They can
propose matters to the Elder Council, but these are rarely passed unless already backed by
powerful voices in the senior chamber.
Islands controlled by Skullstone that aren’t fully incorporated are called protectorates. Each is
run by a viceroy, a thanatocrat appointed by the Elder Council. Viceroys maintain their own staff
like governors, working through local elites to run protectorates. Theoretically kept in check by
lictors, in practice viceroys grow less accountable to Skullstone the more remote their
protectorate, with the most influential and remote viceroys running theirs like private kingdoms.
Skullstone’s famous Black Fleet is small by the standards of other great Western powers,
restricted by Skullstone’s lack of timber. It boasts sleek caravels, enormous galleys, and oared
carracks. Ships are covered and crewed almost entirely by zombies, hoisting sails and rowing
ceaselessly. Fleet ships patrol coastal waters, escort merchant ships, and carry goods to foreign
ports. Duties rotate, but at any time half of the Fleet is engaged in economic activity.
Though it wages no wars, the Black Fleet is Skullstone’s favorite weapon of imperialism by
carrying dignitaries and spying merchants, extracted resources, Sable Order texts, and
necromancers and zombies. Captains and merchants alike keep detailed logs of the happenings in
every port they visit, vital information to feed the ministries trade policies and identify
opportunities to pull neighbors isles into the Dependency. Officership is viewed as an unpleasant
stepping stone to advancement elsewhere or a path to joining the thanatocracy. The highest
levels of the Fleet are largely thanatocrats, and ships crewed exclusively by the dead,
colloquially called ghost ships, lead trade expeditions into the Underworld.
Esoteric forces beyond Skullstone’s fearsome deathknights also exist, deployed primarily in the
Underworld. Creation knows little of these: monsters from the Sea of Shadows tamed by
necromancers; whale-corpses possessed by nemissaries; and strange, singular constructs such as
the Cloud Eater.

Religion
Religion in Skullstone is centered around worship of thanatocrats and a state-approved pantheon
called the Seventy-Seven Exemplars, consisting of ennobled ghost-saints and death-touched
gods. Mortals honor the Prince, their bodhisattva, by emulating the virtues of his Exemplars,
evoking them at sunrise and sunset and when speaking with the dead. Priests from the Office of
Just Reverence oversee Sable Order ceremonies in urban cathedrals and isolated cloisters, filing
reports to ensure their deities remain virtuous, loyal, and controlled. The Office is headquartered
in the cathedral-city of Remonstrance on Greyshores, the religious hub of the archipelago; away
from urban centers, spirits hold more power and clergy overlook disobedience, out of piety or
corruption.
The Exemplars include the Rose Corpse, patron of young lovers, beauty and compassion;
Clement Vesper, psychopomp-god of evening deaths, prayed to for grace and humility; Amazja
Ink-Tears, saint of the written arts and sadness; and solemn Suffers-in-Silence, beseeched for
tenacity in hardship and deliverance from misery.

Onyx
On the western slopes of Mount Vashti on the isle of Darkmist rests the metropole of Onyx. The
capital of Skullstone glitters softly above Deliverance Bay, an oil painting in monochrome.
Obsidian spires rise above crowded street corners, urban lighthouses whose beams cut through
dark nights, weather, and smog. Basalt stoas wrap plazas showcasing marble statues of ghost-
saints, and thanatocrats take their leisure on palanquins, ferried down vast boulevards by
zombies.
Lights of every color stain the night in Mistbloom district, home of bureaucrats and would-be
officials, adjacent to the city center. Art galleries, fine restaurants, tea houses and bordellos stay
open at all hours, their interiors warm and welcoming. Literati debate literature and study for
exams, and locals graffiti walls with poetry. Mistbloom is also home to Onyx’s famous
necrotheaters where trained zombies perform; in mezzanine boxes, elites intrigue and gossip,
hoping to catch the Silver Prince or one of his deathknights enjoying a show.
Closest district to the Silver Prince’s palace, Curve-of-Ivory houses Skullstone’s elites. Noble
families, wealthy merchants and esteemed government dignitaries dwell in sprawling, multi-
story villas of un-mortared, un-insulated stone. Bridges and aqueducts thread canals and grand
plazas. Elevated roofed corridors, colloquially referred to as the Ventricles, connect Curve-of-
Ivory to the Crown of Eternity for passage to government buildings.
The admission ceremony to the Obelion, Onyx’s foremost university, sees students have their
craniums figuratively split open: now and forever, their minds will be open to the knowledge of
Skullstone. Savants and artists from Skullstone, its protectorates, and the Underworld itself
gather (or are gathered) in its halls to create, teach, and research — provided they don’t question
the Sable Order. Eccentricity is the norm; the elderly Baihu Wilting Sun teaches necromancy
between meandering lectures about natural philosophy, while legendary sophist Emoln’s ghost
teaches history and ethics through languid days-long seminars punctuated with sudden, turbulent
interrogation and debate.
Most of Onyx’s population resides in the labyrinthine Ebon Canton. Families crowd in
tenements that lean over twisting alleys, aspiring bureaucrats and their families alongside
tradesfolk and people from the protectorates dreaming of prosperity and ennoblement. Quality of
life ranges from squalid to fair. Criminals and persecuted ghosts conduct dealings in bootleg
masoleums and hidden catacombs.
All trade in Onyx — and most in Skullstone — eventually flows through the port-district
Atramentous Heart. Tax collectors count tribute in lithic warehouses; thanatocrats board vast
ships, one-upping each other in the extravagance of their luggage. Traders from Creation and the
Underworld meet here to do business under whale-oil lamp posts, hawking wares and services
unique to their worlds; afterlife city-ships hire puissant guards to fend off pirates, undersea
ghosts sell shadowpearls to Guild factors, and outcaste privateers buy arms from spectral
artificer-princes.
In the Doors of Tomorrow sugar refineries, blast furnaces and shipyards throng with zombies
who never stop working. The heart of industry and military in Onyx, its drydocks house the
Black Fleet. The district is ringed by the headquarters of several dozen impotent trade guilds and
unions; they exist as an ornament to Skullstone’s industry, given ceremonial prestige only as
long as they remain unflinchingly patriotic.
 The High Families
The so-called High Families are old, influential, and quarrelsome, forever
intriguing against one another. Most prominent among them are the
Menjaro, eldest and most politically powerful, renowned for their Black
Fleet officers and bureaucrats; Sijapuros, genteel merchants, philosophers,
and diplomats with the most privately owned zombies; Amhala, the
youngest who are gaudy clergyfolk and crimelords who frequently engage
in familiar street brawls with Menjaro scions; and the Cerenye, romantic
artisans, scholars and explorers.

Noteworthy Individuals
Seated on the Younger Council, Vekan Amhala craves war. The thanatocrat spent his life
suppressing rebellions among protectorates, in one case famously exterminating an entirely
island over a breach of trade agreement to replace its populace with zombie laborers. His piety is
as strong as his bloodlust; he believes the Sable Order’s steady hand must pacify barbarians
before they destroy themselves. One of the Bloody Poppies (p. xx), his commitment to the
conspiracy is tested by his desire to extirpate the entire Menjaro family. He looks for ways to
undermine and embarrass them, jeopardizing the entire group if his efforts are exposed.
Solemn Ember-Among-Ashes, saint of the hearth and patron to children and paupers, is among
the most beloved Exemplars. Pious beyond reproach, they advocate for the common people to
the Silver Prince, and they sponsor the monastic order called the Drifting Cinders, whose priests
give alms and agitate for more equitable laws. Long favored by the Prince, the two have recently
fallen out over new polemics from the Cinders concerning inequality; Ember fears the Cinders
may be outlawed, and she replaced as Exemplar.
The very image of a solemn Black Fleet captain, iron-haired Give-Praise Gloam speaks through
her first mate until she reveals herself as outrageously foulmouthed. The cherfully amoral
merchant built her fortune through smuggling and information trading, cultivating a vast web of
contacts. She does this while spying for the Prince, double dipping by selling intelligence to the
highest bidder, or the one with the best bottle of wine. Nothing brings her more joy than bringing
interesting foreigners home — then they’re helpless to evade her pumping them for information
of interest.

Neighbors
Eighty years ago, Skullstone lictors deposed the mad prince of Wreath, turning the hilly, fertile
island into a shadowland protectorate. Now it’s the empire’s premier holding in the Neck, nexus
of all trade between Skullstone and the greater West. Wreath’s viceroy, Itaja Menjaro, rules the
island as his personal fiefdom, local nobility enriched via cooperation. Anzí funerary customs
involve sealing the dead in catamarans bearing grave goods; the viceroy plunders these ships and
reanimates corpses to work unto disintegration, and forbids ancestors from contacting their
descendants.
Rebels look for allies to help reignite revolution and cast off their overlords, especially among
their Anzí kinfolk who fled the island — most of whom now reside in the Crescent Archipelago
(Heirs To The Shogunate, p. 244) — but are viewed strangely for their acceptance of the dead
and necromancy. The feeling is largely mutual.
Brimhera is a protectorate by necessity. Desolated by Azurite privateers, the volcanic island-
nation signed treaties with Skullstone for aid and protection. Zombies rebuilt Brimherani roads
and cities, raised schools and courts; now, trade goes only to Skullstone. Brimhera’s dead, once
honored as emanations of the island itself, are marginalized under the Sable Order as dead who
endure without the blessing of Black Judges. Both worship and discussion of them are
discouraged; older Brimherani revere them quietly, while youths abstain entirely. The few
unexorcized ghosts endure in the holy Smoke Curtain Grotto, where they hide — and debate — a
course of action with the few living who still dare attend them.
Half of a continent sank into the Underworld all at once in the Usurpation, shattering into dozens
of ghostly kingdoms divided by swollen black rivers. This is the Demersal Anarchy, whose
dead have never stopped drowning under endless rains. Mightiest among its warlord-ghosts are
the Lacrimal Hexarchs, who rule from citadel-ports of stained glass. Even they struggle to resist
Skullstone; the Silver Prince has extracted wealth and treasures from the region for centuries.
Yet none know what relics lay at the Anarchy’s heart, where the rains fall hardest and behemoths
wander; the Prince is eager to send an expedition to find out.

Thorns
Once, music echoed along the streets of Thorns, spilling out from concert halls and teahouses,
and down from sumptuous apartments where the wealthy held salons. Artists captured snatches
of city life in vibrant paintings and dynamic sculptures. Diners enjoyed hearty stews, and
sausages heavily spiced with paprika. They nibbled on airy pastries spread with plum jam, and
paired dishes with sweet golden wines from the countryside’s many vineyards. Students flocked
to Thorns’ sprawling colleges to learn from and debate with renowned philosophers; aspiring
playwrights debuted their works in the grand Vaszyan Theater.
The city was a vassal of the Realm, though the Empress’ demands were rarely onerous. With the
Realm’s blessing, Thorns continued its own loose governance over several dozen lesser
provinces and city-states, collating their tribute and bringing historically quarrelsome aristocrats
into line.
Nearly 20 years ago, Thorns’ sudden and unusual attempt at expansion — and its armies’
subsequent failures — drove its population to the brink of civil war. Before the city could fully
heal the economic and social wounds left in its aftermath, an even greater disaster brought it low.
Four years ago, the Mask of Winters invaded, decimating Thorns’ defenses and turning the once-
glorious city into a shadowland — a citadel for the dead and beachhead of invasions still to
come.

Recent History
While the city mourned the death of its hereditary autocrat, Mazandan Sepehr, the Realm saw an
opportunity to strengthen their influence in the Scavenger Lands. Dismissing the autocrat’s elder
son as too much like his father — content with Thorns’ status in the region and disinclined to
rally its nominal vassals into a force of any meaningful strength — a dozen Dragon-Blooded
advisors approached the younger son, Istban. They offered him their backing if, in exchange,
he’d begin a military campaign against members of the Confederation of Rivers.
The bitter young man needed little convincing: Istban ordered his elder brother blinded and
thrown into a cell. The few administrators who objected to this power grab had two choices:
renounce the heir or occupy an adjacent cell. He remained alone in his imprisonment for another
13 years.
With the throne secure, Istban attempted to rally his vassals for conquest, but found little
enthusiasm from city-states and duchies for whom Thorns was a nominal tax and an oath sworn
too many generations ago. In late 750, he nonetheless sent forth the armies he could levy into the
River Province. Later dubbed The Autocrat’s War, what Istban and his advisors intended to be a
short, victorious conquest that would stir patriotism and increase Thorns’ regional footprint
instead dragged on for four years.
The final conflict drew in forces from throughout the region, including detachments from Nexus,
Great Forks, and other Confederation lands. All armies suffered heavy losses, due to the
fierceness of the battle and First Age weaponry deployed from both camps. While no formal
treaty was signed, the Battle of Mishaka ended the war — and with it, Thorns’ expansionist
attempts.
Thorns nearly fell into civil war in the immediate aftermath. The early months of the Autocrat’s
War sparked nationalist sentiment as common folk sought the chance to rise in station through
battlefield service and profits from plunder; Thorns’ failure crushed those hopes and made the
earlier patriotism ring hollow. Many of the city’s brightest young minds enlisted or had been
conscripted and died in the fruitless campaign; their losses severely impacted the city’s economy,
work force, and culture.
Toward the middle of 763, Istban visited the cells beneath the palace one last time. Years of
damp, neglect, and isolation had taken their toll, and his elder sibling was dying. Still, Istban
granted him no mercy, leaving him to perish alone in the dark. Shortly thereafter, the prisoner
went missing. A quiet but frantic search by Istban’s closest advisors turned up no useful leads.

The Invasion
Before the massive corpse-fortress Juggernaut burst forth before the gates of Thorns, Creation’s
denizens knew little to nothing of the Deathlords or their Abyssal knights. Thorns’ mortal
soldiers had no training that prepared them to defend against the invaders. Its Dragon-Blooded
garrison was swiftly overwhelmed, as the Mask of Winters sent his lieutenants into the city with
a host elite Lookshyan ghosts, zombie infantry, nemissaries, Underworld beasts, and other
horrors.
The city fell within days. The massive casualties — including the entirety of its garrison forces,
civilian defenders, and the Autocrat and his personal guard — turned Thorns into a shadowland.
Its buildings lay gutted and charred; shrines to its gods were obliterated, the Immaculate temples
reduced to rubble and ash. Those survivors who didn’t flee hid amidst the wreckage and emerged
into a city where the sun shone only weakly, and the ghosts of neighbors who’d died defending
their homes helped them sift through the debris.
The Mask of Winters views Thorns as a strategic bastion. It’s his beachhead in Creation, chosen
for its rough proximity to his Underworld holdings and because it was neither a Realm satrapy
nor a member of the Confederation of Rivers. The city holds little sentimental value for him, but
the blind deathknight known as the Rightful Heir by Red Iron Rebuked (p. XX) now resides in
the autocrat’s palace and sits on its throne. Once, he was Istban’s elder brother; now — at last —
he rules the city that was his by right.
Juggernaut
The undead behemoth that is the Mask of Winters’ corpse-fortress lies outside of Thorns, its
rotting bulk forming hills and gorges as the groaning carcass shifts in uneasy slumber. Bone-
spikes protrude from its spine, to which massive chains are attached. It rarely moves, but the
destruction it can wreak with a swipe of its arm is no trivial matter. It could grasp a Talon’s
worth of soldiers in its fist and crush them with little effort.
Teams of necromancers, artificers, and sorcerer-engineers have carved barracks and luxurious
quarters for the Mask’s deathknights within Juggernaut’s rotting shell. Scavenger lords trade
rumors of artifacts and other treasures hidden in alcoves of hollowed-out bone. Networks of
blood vessels serve as a guide for those familiar with the corpse-fortress’ layout, but these can be
a deadly maze to intruders, leading the unwary toward pits full of bilious fluid or forests of
grasping sinew. Cavalry and infantry stream out from between Juggernaut’s exposed ribs when
the march is called.
The Mask’s palace rises from between Juggernaut’s shoulders, a castle of polished bone and
gleaming gristle. The Deathlord is often in residence within, receiving reports from his agents in
Creation and the Underworld. He entertains diplomats in the Unveiled Hall, whose walls
reverberate with the sluggish beat of Juggernaut’s dead heart. The Mask uses such meetings as
both a threat and a boast: From the tops of the palace’s towers, his guests see the sheer expanse
of territory he’s taken and transformed in such short order. Confident generals understand how
swiftly the Mask’s armies might overwhelm their own, while more timid or pragmatic rulers
recognize the sense in remaining in the Deathlord’s good graces.

Thorns Today
Thorns has fallen far from its former splendor, though that decline began long before the Mask
of Winters’ assault on the city. The heavy casualties incurred during the war with the
Confederation sapped much of its vibrancy; scholars and artists were conscripted to fight
alongside its working-class infantry, and a generation of rich and poor alike returned home atop
the funerists’ wagons. Many left during the following years, seeking an escape from poverty,
unrest, and grief.
Today, the weak sun throws long shadows across emptied-out quarters. There’s work to be had
for the living and the dead alike. The city’s buildings — characterized by their dramatic pointed
arches, rib vaults, and soaring spires and lantern towers — suffered heavy damage in the
invasion. Driven by nostalgia and determined to transform it into more than a beachhead for the
Mask of Winters’ troops, the Red Iron Rebuke funds construction projects to restore Thorns to its
former glory.
However, the Underworld’s influence can be felt throughout: basalt replaces pale marble, and
stained glass windows depict the Mask of Winters and his deathknights’ epic deeds. Troops
living and dead put on military displays under the Seven Seasons Widow’s command in the
Amphitheater of the Cloven Sky. Statues of Thorns’ famed performers and orators line the arena,
though many have grown strange and twisted— vines grow in the cracks and wrap choking
tendrils around stone necks, even as storms of scouring rain melt the marble into new shapes.
The stubborn and faithful refuse to leave, eking out a living under their new circumstances.
Musicians compose dirges and perform for the deathknights and their ghostly visitors. Crime
bosses and smugglers fill the void left by murdered administrators. Many who didn’t flee after
the invasion stayed due to poverty, illness, or fear. Even those with the means to leave find it
hard to do so, as the Red Iron Rebuke has implemented new restrictions on travel.
Others revel in the changes, incorporating the shadowland into their new identity. New styles are
inspired by Stygian fashion, Underworld festivals as syncretized with Thornish holidays, and
customs adopt to the dead, such as keeping nocturnal business hours, making offerings before
feasts to nourish ghostly guests, and learning dead languages to converse with Underworld
neighbors.

Culture
Most homes in Thorns display elaborately carved and painted gates made of oak that residents
and visitors must pass through. Larger estates’ gates have two entrances: one large enough for a
carriage to pass beneath, the other sized for people on foot. The carvings depict the family’s
ancestors and their deeds, the Elemental Dragons, and blessings from the gods. Most gates are
topped with a shingle-roofed dovecote, where household members placed offerings and grave-
goods for their ancestors. The shadowland’s appearance has reunited some families with beloved
elders, making the gates a gathering place where youths consult with those who’ve gone before.
Other ghosts, whose families died in the fighting or fled the city, keenly feel the loss of the
offerings they once counted on.
Many Thornish dishes feature mahleb, a spice derived from ground cherry seeds. Used in breads
and pastries, it’s also mixed into a soft cheese that’s brined and braided. Savory dishes include
stews heavy with beef, potatoes, and cabbage, served with tangy sour cream to cut through the
fat. Often, a sweet pasta coated in ground poppy seeds comprises a second course. Though the
vineyards have struggled, cooks with access to pre-invasion vintages braise meats or roast
vegetables in it, and bottles scavenged from abandoned homes are common barter. Enterprising
vintners coax new varieties of grapes out of the bleak shadowlands soil, bottling wines that taste
of regret.
Poverty, scarcity, grief, and uncertainty have taken their toll on the city’s artistic and scholarly
culture. Residents are often too busy eking out a living to pursue their passions, though this
doesn’t mean the city is devoid of art and music, or that no great thinkers remain among the
citizenry. Musicians still play in teahouses and wineshops at the end of a long day. Eager to
restore Thorns to the center of learning and culture it was in his youth, the Red Iron Rebuke
sponsors public art projects, procures texts for libraries, invites performers to enliven his galas,
and commissions playwrights and troupes. Some Thornish artists disdain those who accept his
patronage, though many understand the need to put food on the table.
For many among the rabble, art is also an act of rebellion: workers sing protest songs; street
performers dramatize to the people’s plight; philosophers publish scathing missives on hidden
printing presses; and graffiti artists depict the Mask and his lieutenants in garish detail. The
Seven Seasons Widow sends her officers to root out the culprits on occasion, but they rarely find
them — residents saw nothing, and the rebellious know to go masked and quiet. Pamphlets are
often burned after reading, their details passed on by word of mouth.
Due to its long relationship with the Realm, the Immaculate Order had a strong presence in
Thorns. Temples to the Dragons dotted the city, and Immaculate monks were among the first
defenders when the Mask of Winters attacked — which numbered them among his lieutenants’
first targets. The few survivors were mostly recalled to the Blessed Isle, or escorted refugees to
safety in other Threshold cities. A few remain, protecting those who seek their aid or funneling
information on the deathknights’ activities to contacts outside of Thorns. The city’s other gods
fared better in the invasion’s immediate term, though the diminished population has left many
adrift as years passed and their worshipers died or fled. Some have left Thorns altogether,
following their adherents to other locations.

Thornish Refugees
Those Thornish who fled the invasion maintain their identity and culture
in enclave wherever they could establish a niche. Since few of those who
fled did so with more than what they carried, such communities are often
relegated to lower-class neighborhoods where they reside, such as the large
community in Nexus’ Nighthammer district, Lookshy’s Lower City, or near
Jiara’s river dockyards. Circumstances drive them to an egalitarian
welcoming of people coming from any social station to live side by side,
united by the memory of Thorns that was. Aided by former smuggling
gangs, they maintain informal networks along trade routes to help new
escapees find other friends and relatives who may have survived and
reunite those separated from their loved ones. Thornish elites with enough
wealth or foreign ties eschew such communities and live as guests among
their allies abroad, lobbying their hosts in Calin, Rook, or the Realm itself
to muster the forces to retake Thorns.

Governance
Although the Mask of Winters is often in residence in his palace atop Juggernaut, he leaves
management of the city to the Rightful Heir by Red Iron Rebuked. The deathknight has
reclaimed the title of autocrat and rules from the palace in which he and his usurper brother were
raised. The Heir tells all who will listen that he loves Thorns, and wants to do right by its people.
Privately, however, he can’t help but stoke his anger — for more than a decade he was left in a
cell to rot and few people lifted a finger to help him. While he recognizes that the people were
limited in their ability to aid him — what could they do, when Istban’s coup came at the Realm’s
behest? — he sometimes regards their current suffering as just punishment.
The Red Iron Rebuke grants titles and responsibilities to those servants and gaolers who offered
him succor during his imprisonment. Some, like the pampered seneschal Abarna Djeney, are
simply bad administrators, unprepared for being stewards of a city ravaged by poverty and
upheaval. Djeney oversaw a wealthy household before the Mask’s invasion, and possesses
neither an understanding of large-scale food distribution nor the contacts among Thorns’
criminal element to prevent theft or help procure additional goods. Others were corrupt even in
his father’s day, or have justified their decisions as doing what it takes to survive, even if it
comes at others’ expense.
Thorns’ people haven’t entirely embraced the Red Iron Rebuke’s return. While those who follow
his rules can live comfortably, pockets of resistance exist. Many chafe at the idea of taking his
charity when their loved ones died or were permanently injured during the invasion.
The Red Iron Rebuke holds particular resentment for the Dragon-Blooded and agents of the
Realm. He orders any found in Thorns to answer — painfully — for the crime of aiding his
brother. However, many Thornish residents adhered to the Immaculate faith, and remember the
Realm’s influence as a stabilizing one. A rebel group calling itself the Branches of Sextes Jylis
work to smuggle refugees to other cities where Thornish exiles have established homes. They
stand ready, should Jiara’s garrison come to their aid, or the Mouth of Peace send Immaculate
reinforcements from the Blessed Isle, but thus far their requests for help have gone unanswered.
Rumors have reached the Heir of a potential challenger to his hard-won authority: the ghost of
his brother Istban. A group of the usurper’s supporters — living and dead — have rallied around
him, providing shelter and offerings, hiding him from the Heir’s agents, and seeking
opportunities to put him back on the throne. Such knowledge infuriates Red Iron Rebuke; though
he believes this entity to be a convincing imposter, he must tread carefully nonetheless.
Mistreating his brother’s supporters only serves to drive more people to his side.

Afterlife
As a center of art and culture, Thorns’ ancestral afterlife was one of ease and leisure. In the
lavender-filled gardens of the Misty Revels, ghosts continue practicing the arts they loved in life,
or begin studying those they were denied access to. Paths wind throughout the island’s chilly but
pleasant climes, leading to promontories where painters capture Underworld vistas, or to
amphitheaters where musicians, orators, and thespians perform. For all its beauty, it is also land
of delirium and rueful introspection — its inhabitants find themselves utterly engrossed in their
art, isolated from one another even when a crowd gathers to regard the strange tides that
sometimes frost the isle’s shores with sapphire dust.
Many Thornish ghosts feel a measure of guilt even as they dwell in the Revels. Immaculate
teachings prepared them to pass into Lethe and rejoin the cycle of reincarnation after death, and
yet they linger. A handful of faithful Immaculate ghosts populate a distant corner of the isle,
visiting the Revels proper to harangue others into accepting Lethe’s embrace. A patient specter-
prince known as Abrigos courts these zealots under the guise of false piety, seeking a foothold in
the Revels where he can lure its artists into slavery for the well-to-do of Stygia.
Since the Mask of Winters invaded, fewer and fewer ghosts appear in the Revels. Most are those
of Thornish refugees, buried in their new lands with ceremonies and grave goods of home. The
ghosts of those who die in Thorns itself tend to remain in the shadowland city, put to work on
rebuilding or drafted into the Mask’s growing army. Some puissant ghosts of the Revels with
enough clarity of mind make the journey back to Thorns, where they take on rebel artists as
apprentices.

Noteworthy Individuals
The vineyard god Drinks-the-Sun saw much of her domain wither when Thorns became a
shadowland. For years, the fields that had once rang with hymns in her name lay fallow and
ashen, and her once-plump cheeks grew gaunt as sickness and poverty took her worshipers. Ever
resourceful, she’s reinvented herself, taking on additional duties as a protector of the sick — a
job the god Bitter Daro abandoned when he fled. An honored guest at Thornish salons both
before and after the invasion, she’s familiar with the city’s power-brokers and their rivalries. She
carried out a brief affair with the Seven Seasons Widow, though the two haven’t been seen
together in months.
Merchant prince Casim Thurat’s route takes his caravan from Thorns to Nexus, providing the
shadowland city with food, weapons, slaves, and materials. Thurat’s reliability pleases the Mask
of Winters, allowing the caravan a degree of latitude and providing its members — including the
Liminal Exalt Dame Crimson (Adversaries of the Righteous, p. XX) — opportunities to
smuggle refugees out of Thorns. Thurat’s motives aren’t entirely altruistic; his business turns a
healthy profit, and he counts some of the city’s crime bosses among his valued clients. He has
also ferried works of art out of Thorns, selling them to collectors around the Scavenger Lands.
While his main focus is on masterpieces made by mortal hands, he has on occasion acquired
artifacts instead; the Prince Resplendent has yet to discover this, but is unlikely to respond
warmly.
Samaha Terez serves as a scribe for the Abbot of Hunger and Dust, recording his decrees,
penning missives, and composing canticles from his wisdom. Formerly a poet in Istban’s court,
Terez rode out the siege in the hidden passageways formerly used for private conversations and
liaisons. She was discovered while venturing into the kitchens for food; deemed a spy and
dragged before the Abbot, her eloquent speech saved her life. She navigates among the Abyssals
and their intrigues as best she can, but quietly receives overtures for palace intelligence from
rebel factions.

Neighbors
Nearby polities are wary of Thorns and its new leadership. The Scavenger Lands remembers its
sudden expansion when mortal rulers and their Dragon-Blooded allies were in charge; now that
it’s under control of a Deathlord, local rulers watch warily for what conflicts might arise.
The Mask of Winters is careful in the relationships he aims to build. The horse lords of nearby
Marukan pay close attention to the Deathlord’s movements; their Council of Elders is divided
on whether they should treat with the Mask’s emissaries, or turn them away and risk a war. The
plateaus their clans are scattered across offer some protection should Thorns’ army march upon
them, and near-neighbor Lookshy maintains its largest redoubt in their lands, but victory isn’t
guaranteed. With every new territory Thorns annexes, more Councilors find it prudent to
consider to the Red Iron Rebuke’s offers.
Lookshy projects a strong posture against the Mask from afar. However, the Seventh Legion
makes no preparations to go to war just yet, and encounters between Lookshy and Thorns’
diplomats have been wary but cordial. The lack of action on Lookshy’s part has forced other
polities in the area to consider how best to protect themselves. Some even see opportunities that
had formerly been unthinkable — like the silver-rich satrapy of Perse, which courts an alliance
with the Mask of Winters in the hopes of throwing off Realm suzerainty.

Other Shadowlands
In Ashen Grave, dark clouds rain down gentle ash and cinders, the memories of the volcanic
eruption that transformed a city into a shadowland. Its ghostly inhabitants are made of vague,
smoky corpus and speak with raspy voices; nearby cultures sometimes venerate them as saints.
Faithful cultists are rewarded with access to sulfurous pits that bestow visions of how they will
die. Others among the living trade for the Grave’s many obsidian treasures with offerings of
meat, wine, and ice carted down from nearby mountains.
In the forests of the East, the unfortunate may find the Depthless Pines, a place where Creation
bleeds away beneath the darkness of the canopy and blends into the Underworld. Most travelers
have little idea they've stepped away from the living world until they realize that the forest has
fallen silent and what light filters to the ground has taken on a wan and grayish coloring. The
ghosts within ride ancient beasts, long extinct; they lead travelers off the beaten path to feast of
their flesh and blood, or to drive them mad for their amusement. Scavenger Lords pay high
prices for the forest’s supple gray lumber.
The Academy Eternal was a center of sorcerous learning in the Shogunate whose three great
masters, terrified of the oncoming Contagion but loath to relinquish their privileged positions,
sacrificed countless pupils in experimental rituals. They hoped to create a timeless demesne, but
instead pulled the surrounding area into the Underworld. The grounds outside the Academy’s
wards are a maddening sight, unpredictable pockets of time accelerating, freezing, and reversing
as their mindless working wars with the Calendar of Setesh. Only a few have been desperate
enough to risk their souls and lucky enough to escape the affected region, promising wealth,
knowledge, and glory to any who can reverse the working or enter it to free them. By day, its
borders lead to the tiny, forbidden island of Regret, off the Blessed Isle’s southern coast.
In the cold seas of the Northwest there lies a ring-island shadowland known as Seripsa — or, to
some savants, the Atoll of the Dark Mother. Despite its forbidding location, Seripsa sometimes
serves as meeting place for powerful dead — even some among the Deathlords, when the need
arises. Conflict is forbidden, for the damp and rocky ground is consecrated to the Old Laws;
those who betray an oath sworn here find themselves burdened with curses that no spell can
countermand, as the waters of the Underworld and Creation alike conspire to drown them at
every opportunity.
Chapter Four: Character Creation
This chapter details the process of creating Abyssal player characters.

Traits
You’ll make a number of choices about your character’s system traits in character creation. It
may help to skip ahead and read about those traits or reference their description in Exalted Third
Edition. A quick summary:
Caste: Your Caste is an archetypal role of deathly power. It makes it easier for you to gain
Abilities that fit that role and determines your anima powers. See p. XX
Attributes: Your character’s innate strengths and aptitudes (Exalted, p. 148).
Abilities: Your character’s skills. (Exalted, p. 149). Abilities also determine what Charms you
can learn. In addition to your Caste Abilities, you’ll also pick Favored Abilities, which receive the
same discounts, letting you broaden your character beyond their Caste’s archetype.
Apocalyptic Ability: One of your character’s Caste Abilities is their Apocalyptic Ability, letting
you learn Charms from it even if you don’t meet their Essence minimum.
Specialties: Your character’s specific areas of expertise within their Abilities (Exalted, p. 123).
Merits: Miscellaneous traits associated with your character's origin and backstory (Exalted, p.
157). Some provide mechanical advantages, while others give narrative benefits, like wealth or
minions. If you want an artifact or manse, you’ll take it as a Merit.
Charms: The Abyssals’ supernatural prowess. Charms are the most complicated part of the
game, but you don't need to read them all — just those available at Essence 1. Each Charm
requires a certain Ability rating, so you may want to pick Charms before Abilities. See Chapter 6.
Intimacies: Your character’s relationships, beliefs, and other aspects of their personality
(Exalted, p. 170). It’s harder for social influence to sway you against your Intimacies, but it’s
easier to convince you to do something your Intimacies support. Charms and other magic may
also draw on your character’s Intimacies.
Limit Trigger: A condition that causes your character to gain Limit, building to a terrible
manifestation of her Great Curse. See p. XX.

Step 1: Concept and Caste

Start character creation by talking with your Storyteller about her plans for the game, and
discussing character concepts with your fellow players. Think about your character’s origin,
personality, skills, and the heroic archetypes that inspire her. Determine which of the five Abyssal
Castes (p. XX) fit her best.
You should also choose which Deathlord your character serves:
The Bishop of the Chalcedony Thurible (p. XX): The Bishop preaches a doctrine of oblivion,
teaching that the annihilating embrace of the void is the only escape from the suffering of
existence. His deathknights are evangelists, crusaders, philosophers, and inquisitors.
The Black Heron (p. XX): The preeminent killer among the Deathlords’ ranks, a legendary
assassin who hides behind the façade of a charming ghost-queen. Centuries ago, her forces
suffered a devastating defeat from which she’s still recovering. She now holds court in Stygia,
courting allies and rebuilding her power.
The Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils (p. XX): The Dowager is the
Neverborn’s most faithful servant among the Deathlords, though she’s by far the least lucid
among their ranks. Peering into the Well of Udr, she dredges forth nightmares and monsters to
unleash against the living. Her deathknights have broad leeway in following her cryptic
instructions, though they must occasionally hunt down her horrors when they rampage out of
control.
Eye and Seven Despairs (p. XX): A master of necromancy and artifice, the Eye toils ceaselessly
at creating undead abominations and world-killing weapons. Their deathknights assist them in
their workshops and laboratories, act as intermediaries to those seeking the Eye’s horrific
creations, and retrieve esoteric knowledge, exotic materials, and lost wonders of the Underworld.
The First and Forsaken Lion (p. XX): A grim warlord eternally imprisoned in cursed armor by
the Neverborn, the Lion’s true ambition is to conquer the Underworld. Their deathknights are the
greatest of the Deathlord’s generals and champions among the Legion Sanguinary, the
Underworld’s paramount fighting force.
The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears (p. XX): The Lover is a cruel witch-queen, driving
heroes to despair so they may learn the folly of their attachments and desires. Her deathknights
share her cruel enlightenment with the living, lead her forces in war, and subvert mortal societies.
The Mask of Winters (p. XX): A statesman and spymaster, the Mask of Winters is notorious for
his conquest the Thorns. He plays politics with mortal princes, turning kingdoms and nations
against each other and poisoning them from within. His deathknights are ambassadors, generals,
bureaucrats, and spies.
The Silver Prince (p. XX): The Silver Prince reigns over the Skullstone Archipelago, where
zombie servants toil. The Prince dreams of cultural domination, believing Skullstone is a perfect
society that will one day assimilate all Creation. His deathknights live as royalty, serving as
diplomats, privateers, priests, and cultural luminaries.
The Walker in Darkness (p. XX): The Walker in Darkness is a figure of dark temptation,
promising princes and queens their heart’s desire in bargains he seems to be true. He leads the
Company of Martial Sinners, an elite band of mercenaries, selling their services to plunge the
realms of the living into war. His deathknights lead the Company’s forces , collect on the
Deathlord’s bargains , and speak on the Walker’s behalf in foreign courts.
Another Deathlord: There may be Deathlords who reign over the Underworld; you can work
with your Storyteller and playgroup to invent them and explore their themes and ambitions.
No Deathlord: Some Abyssals abandon the service of the Deathlord who chose them or refuse to
ever enter it. These renegades are sometimes called deathknights-errant, choosing who — if
anyone.

Step 2: Attributes
Each Attribute begins with one dot. Next, of the categories of Attributes — Physical (Dexterity,
Stamina, Strength), Social (Appearance, Charisma, Manipulation), and Mental (Intelligence,
Perception, Wits) — choose one as primary, another as secondary, and the third as tertiary.
Distribute eight dots between your primary Attributes, six dots between your secondary
Attributes, and four dots between your tertiary Attributes. Attributes can’t be raised above five.

Step 3: Abilities
Choose five of the Abilities associated with your Caste as Caste Abilities.
Dusk: Archery, Athletics, Brawl, Melee, Resistance, Ride, Thrown, War.
Midnight: Integrity, Larceny, Linguistics, Lore, Performance, Presence, Resistance, Survival.
Daybreak: Awareness, Bureaucracy, Craft, Investigation, Lore, Medicine, Occult, Sail.
Day: Athletics, Awareness, Investigation, Dodge, Larceny, Socialize, Stealth, Survival.
Moonshadow: Bureaucracy, Integrity, Linguistics, Occult, Presence, Ride, Sail, Socialize.
Next, pick five Abilities of your choice as Favored Abilities. Taking Brawl as a Caste or Favored
Ability also makes Martial Arts a Caste or Favored Ability.
Choose one of your Caste Abilities as your Apocalyptic Ability. You can learn Charms of your
Apocalyptic Ability as though you had Essence 5.
Divide 28 dots among your Abilities. Each starts at zero, and can’t be raised above three without
spending bonus points. Abilities can’t be raised above five. Each Favored Ability must have at
least one dot assigned to it.
Assign four specialties (Exalted, p. 123). You must have at least one dot in an Ability to take a
specialty in it.

Step 4: Merits
Choose ten dots of Merits.
Abyssals in a Deathlord’s service at character creation gains them as a three-dot Mentor for free
and distribute five additional dots among the Backing, Command, Contacts, Cult, and Resources
Merits.

Step 5: Charms
Choose fifteen Charms (p. XX). Most Abyssal Charms require a minimum rating in their
associated Ability — if you don’t qualify, you’ll need to raise that Attribute’s rating with bonus
points.
You may choose Martial Arts Charms or Evocations in place of Abyssal Charms. If you choose
Ivory Circle Necromancy or Terrestrial Circle Sorcery as a starting Charm, you may also learn
spells in place of Charms.

Step 6: Intimacies and Limit Trigger

Choose Intimacies (Exalted, p. 170) to represent your Abyssal’s beliefs and relationships.
Intimacies can represent motivations, religious beliefs, worldview, friends and enemies, morals,
idiosyncrasies, or other important parts of her life. Many Abyssals have Ties toward their
Deathlord, Principles related to the chivalry of death (p. XX), and Ties to the living and the
undead. There’s no maximum on how many Intimacies you may choose. Starting characters must
have at least four Intimacies. At least one must be Defining, and one must be Major. Likewise, at
least one must be positive, and one must be negative.
Choose a Limit trigger — a circumstance that exacerbates your Abyssal’s Great Curse (p. XX).

Step 7: Bonus Points

You have 15 bonus points that can be spent any time during character creation to raise your
character’s traits.
<BEGIN TABLE>
TRAIT COST

Primary or Secondary Attribute 4 per dot

Tertiary Attribute 3 per dot
Caste or Favored Ability 1 per dot
Non-Caste, Non-Favored Ability 2 per dot
Specialty 1
Merits 1 per dot
Caste or Favored Charm 4
Non-Caste, Non-Favored Charm 5
Spell (Occult Caste or Favored) 4
Spell (Occult non-Caste, non-Favored) 5
Evocation 4
Willpower 2 per dot
<END TABLE>
It’s most cost-effective to spend bonus points on Caste and Favored Abilities and Colleges or to
raise Abilities above 3. Using them to buy Charms, Evocations, or spells is the least efficient
option.

Step 8: Finishing Touches

You begin at Essence 1. Abyssals have (10 + [Essence x3]) personal motes and (26 + [Essence
x7]) peripheral motes, for 13 personal motes and 33 peripheral motes at Essence 1.
You begin with five Willpower, which can be raised with bonus points.
You begin with seven health levels: a −0 level, two −1 levels, two −2 levels, a −4 level, and an
Incapacitated level. You may gain additional health levels with Ox-Body Technique (p. XX).

Death’s Champions
The above rules are for creating Abyssals who’ve been Exalted for no more than a year. For more
experienced deathknights, make the following changes:
• Your starting Essence is 2.
• Choose thirteen dots of Merits, in addition to bonus Merits from your Deathlord.
• Choose twenty Charms.
• Spend eighteen bonus points.

Drawing the Last Breath

A mortal player character (Exalted, p. 125) who Exalts as an Abyssal during play gains the
following benefits:
• The Caste that best fits the character’s concept.
• Five favored Abilities, each of which she must have at least one dot in.
• Ten Charms.
• A Limit trigger.
• At the story’s end, the Abyssal gains five Charms and two dots of Willpower for free, and
assigns two dots among primary Attributes, two dots among secondary Attributes, and one dot
among tertiary Attributes.

Character Creation Summary

Step 1: Concept and Caste
• Consult with the Storyteller and other players, and come up with a character concept.
• Choose your character’s Deathlord.
• Pick a Caste. Note its anima powers.

Step 2: Attributes
• Place one dot in each Attribute.
• Divide 8 dots among primary Attributes, 6 dots among secondary Attributes, and 4 dots
among tertiary Attributes.

Step 3: Abilities
• Mark your Caste Abilities.
• Select five Favored Abilities, which can’t be the same as Caste Abilities.
• Select one of your Caste Abilities to be your Apocalyptic Ability.
• Divide 28 dots among all Abilities. None may be raised above 3 without spending bonus
points, and each Favored Ability must have at least one dot.
• Assign four specialties.

Step 4: Merits
• Select 10 dots of Merits.
• If you serve a Deathlord, gain them as a Mentor and distribute an additional five dots
among their associated Merits.

Step 5: Charms
• Select 15 Charms.

Step 6: Intimacies and Limit Trigger

• Choose at least four Intimacies, including at least one Defining Intimacy, one Major
Intimacy, one positive Tie, and one negative Tie.
• Choose your Limit trigger.

Step 7: Bonus Points

• Spend 15 bonus points.

Step 8: Finishing Touches

• Record Essence (1), personal motes (10 + [Essence x3]), peripheral motes (26 + [Essence
x7]), health levels (−0/−1x2/−2x2/−4/Incapacitated) and Willpower (5).

Castes
Dusk: Merciless killers, warrior poets, ruthless strategists, and terrifying warlords, the Dusk
Caste ride out from the Underworld leading armies of the undead and leave only death in their
wake.
Caste Abilities: Archery, Athletics, Brawl, Melee, Resistance, Ride, Thrown, War.
Midnight: Speakers for the dead, subversive cult leaders, Underworld mystics, and undying
martyrs, the Midnight Caste drive the living to despair, spread the ancestor cult, and poison
societies with their words.
Caste Abilities: Integrity, Larceny, Linguistics, Lore, Performance, Presence, Resistance,
Survival.
Daybreak: Master necromancers, genius artificers, philosophers of death, and implacable
inquisitors, the Daybreak Caste wield the forbidden wisdom of the dead and violate the natural
order in pursuit of power.
Caste Abilities: Awareness, Bureaucracy, Craft, Investigation, Lore, Medicine, Occult, Sail.
Day: Relentless assassins, masters of intrigue and infiltration, assassins, merciless inquisitors,
and hunters of the guilty, the Day Caste walk among the living like wolves among sheep.
Caste Abilities: Athletics, Awareness, Investigation, Dodge, Larceny, Socialize, Stealth, Survival.
Moonshadow: Underworld diplomats, honey-tongued deceivers, envoys to the living, and
keepers of the Old Laws, the Moonshadow Caste sow discontent among the living, make and
break treaties, and raise up empires of the dead.
Caste Abilities: Bureaucracy, Integrity, Linguistics, Occult, Presence, Ride, Sail, Socialize.

Bonus Point Costs

<BEGIN TABLE>
TRAIT COST
Primary or Secondary Attribute 4 per dot
Tertiary Attribute 3 per dot
Caste or Favored Ability 1 per dot
Non-Caste, Non-Favored Ability 2 per dot
Specialty 1
Merits 1 per dot
Caste or Favored Charm 4
Non-Caste, Non-Favored Charm 5
Spell (Occult Caste or Favored) 4
Spell (Occult non-Caste, non-Favored) 5
Evocation 4
Willpower 2 per dot
<END TABLE>
Chapter Four: Traits
This chapter details Abyssal’s unique traits, Castes, Great Curse, character advancement rules.

Abyssal Nature
Death’s Chosen are heirs to a legacy of heroism that has been warped and corrupted by the Deathlords.
They are not

Life in Death
The Abyssal Exalted have not died, yet death is their very Essence. They’re considered undead only when
this is beneficial for them. Both living and lifeless, they don’t receive the usual benefits of undeath.

Creatures of Darkness
Sworn to the murder of Creation and suffused with the unholy power of the Neverborn, the Abyssals are
marked as creatures of darkness by their very nature. This renders them vulnerable to certain magic —
especially that of the Solar Exalted. However, this isn’t immutable: a deathknight who proves herself an
ally of Creation might eventually cease to be creatures of darkness. For Abyssals who seek redemption by
becoming Solars (p. XX), this is almost always part of their journey. This is a narrative milestone rather
than a mechanical one, something that should come at the resolution of a deathknight’s narrative arc or at
an especially dramatic moment.

Enemies of Fate
When an Abyssal draws their Last Breath, the thread of their fate is severed by what should be their death
— and yet they live. Suffused with the otherworldly power, they who should not live don’t exist within
fate’s weave. They can never return, no matter how long they spend in Creation, though Sidereal magic
can temporarily restore an allied deathknight’s place within fate.

Death’s Chivalry
Obeying death’s chivalry brings an Abyssal into a dark harmony with her Exaltation, calming her
troubled soul. When she faces great hardships or making significant sacrifices to fulfill death’s chivalry,
she gains one Willpower and rolls one die, losing Limit equal to her successes.
When an Abyssal accomplishes a major character or story goal that upholds death’s chivalry, her
temporary Willpower rises to equal to her permanent Willpower if it’s not already higher. She rolls
(higher of Essence or 3) dice, losing Limit equal to her successes.

The Trappings of Death

Outside of the Underworld and the shadowlands, deathknights suffer a −2 penalty on all rolls unless
wearing the trappings of death or dwelling within a place associated with death, like a graveyard or Abys.
The difficulty of noticing the trappings can’t exceed 5 — anything subtler than that is insufficient to
provide this benefit.

The Lunar Bond

In the First Age, many Solars and Lunars forged bonds between their very souls, ties that would persist
beyond their death through every reincarnation. Even the Deathlords’ power could not taint this bond.
When an Abyssal first encounters her Lunar mate, she usually experiences a flash of recognition. She may
not understand what the bond she feels it, but its presence is unmistakable. She forms a Minor Tie toward
him — typically a negative Tie at first.
A player who wants to guarantee her Solar mate will be a prominent and positive figure in her Abyssal’s
life should the Allies Merit. Otherwise, her mate’s appearances and role are up to the Storyteller — he
could be an enemy, friend, rival, lover, or more. Note that not all Abyssals have Lunar mates.

Martial Arts
Abyssals have Mastery with Martial Arts (Exalted, p. 427). They can learn Sidereal Martial Arts under
under the tutelage of a Sidereal — or through battle against one.

Necromancy and Sorcery

Abyssals can initiate into Void Circle necromancy (p. XX), but only Celestial Circle sorcery.

Evocations
Abyssals are resonant with soulsteel and certain exotic substances of the Underworld, and neutral with all
other materials (Arms of the Chosen, p. 16).

Merits
New Merit: Whispers (•• or ••••)
Type: Purchased
Prerequisites: Non-Abyssals must commune with the Essence of the Neverborn within the Labyrinth or a
similar font of the dead titans’ power to acquire this Merit.
Abyssals seeking spiritual communion with the Neverborn learn to hear the Whispers of the dead titans,
an almost-silent susurrus that is the dead titans’ perpetual death rattle. Those who wander the Labyrinth
may come to hear them too, as the Deathlords have; ghosts who do so are sometimes called specters.
There are no words, no demands, no explanations; the Neverborn speak in cryptic premonitions and
nightmarish visions. Those who listen to Whispers can glean insight and meaning from them, but they
take a heavy toll on minds never meant to bear them and unable to shut them out.
Once per session, a character with Whispers can pay one Willpower to invoke one of the following
benefits:
• Introduce a fact about death, the undead, the Underworld, or necromancy without requiring an
applicable Lore background, or add (higher of Essence or 3) non-Charm dice if she has one.
• Add (higher of Essence or 3) non-Charm dice on any roll to navigate the Underworld or avoid the
perils of its terrain, or on rolls to understand the thoughts and passions of the undead (including read
intentions and profile character actions).
• Add (higher of Essence or 3) necromantic motes towards a spell she is shaping. This isn’t
compatible with sorcery.
• Call on her Whispers in a Decision Point as though they were a Major Intimacy of nihilistic
despair and enmity towards all living things — or, for characters with four-dot Whispers, a Defining
Intimacy.
Characters with four-dot Whispers can do so once per day instead.
Some Abyssal Charms have the Whispers keyword, granting additional benefits to characters with this
Merit.
Drawback: Whispers can distract or overwhelm those receptive to them. Once per session, the Storyteller
may inflict either a –(Whispers) penalty on a social or mental roll, or a −1 penalty to Resolve or Guile for
an instant. The player can describe what alien or horrifying sensations her character experiences as part of
her stunt.

Existing Merits
Allies
An Abyssal’s Lunar mate is a five-dot Ally. Most ghosts are one-dot Allies; especially powerful ones are
three-dot allies.

Backing
Many Abyssals holding Backing within organizations and institutions led by their Deathlords, like the
First and Forsaken Lion’s Legion Sanguinary or the ecclesiastic hierarchy of the Bishop of the
Chalcedony Thurible’s Shining Way.

Command
Many Abyssals lead battle groups of zombies or war ghosts (Exalted, pp. 502-504), which possess Might
1. Such battle groups cost an additional dot.

Demesne/Manse
Deathknights often claim Abyssal demenses and manses, whether in shadowlands or the Underworld
proper.

Familiar
Abyssals can take undead animals (p. XX) as familiars. Zombie animals can only be familiars if they still
retain a spark of the animal’s identity.

Retainers
Most ghosts are two-dot Retainers, as are Ghost-Blooded. Especially powerful ghosts may be four-dot
Retainers.
BEGIN ONE-PAGE SPREAD

Dusk Caste
Dusk heralds the coming night, the darkness that sweeps across Creation as the sun dies. One day, it will
never rise again. Such is the grim promise of the Dusk Caste. They are the right hand of death, the Swords
of the Abyss, butchering armies and laying waste to nations. When the Peacebringers ride to war, they
leave naught but corpses and silence in their wake. They exult in slaughter, in the forsaken hymns of their
victim’s screams and the sound of soulsteel cutting flesh.
The Children of Ash count peerless killers, brilliant tacticians, morbid warrior-poets, and merciless
warlords among their ranks. They uphold death’s chivalry through martial prowess and strength of arms,
granting the gift of peace with the edge of a blade. They serve their Deathlords as generals, bodyguards,
tacticians, and front-line champions, leading armies of the damned against their masters’ foes. It is rare
that the Deathlords deploy the full force of their might, but that may soon change now that the Dusk Caste
command their legions.
Most Deathlords prefer to choose Peacebringers from those already skilled in violence and warfare,
whether it’s a young hero cut down on the battlefield or a seasoned veteran who’s reached the end of her
years. Others are chosen for their murderous potential, given the power to act on the hatred, bloodlust, or
avarice that festers within their hearts. Some Deathlords enjoy choosing Dusk Castes from those who died
violently, savoring their poetic justice of a Peacebringer avenging their own death.
Renegade Dusk Castes wield their deadly prowess to their own ends. They might roam the Underworld as
sellswords or wandering heroes, championing ghostly armies and waging the wars of the dead. Others
turn their blades against the wicked, whether otherworldly fiends or all-too-human monsters, protecting
those they hold dear by cutting down that which threatens them. Peacebringers who hold positions of
command may convince their soldiers to defect with them, forging elite mercenary companies — and
occasionally lending aid to their Deathlords’ foes.
Caste Mark: Peacebringer’s Caste Marks are a dark mirror of the Dawn Caste’s: eight-pointed starbursts
of darkness bleeding from their edges.
Anima Banner: A Dusk Caste’s anima banners are pitch black, occasionally edged with gray or tinged
with dark reds or purples. It’s sometimes accompanied by screams of terror, a sound like an endless death
rattle, or the scent of blood, ash, or rust.
Iconic Anima: A storm that rains blood and offal; a vast spectral figure of a ferocious nocturnal predator
or slavering carrion-eater; a black-mailed fist descending from the sky to strike the earth; a legion of
phantom knights marching behind her; etc.
Anima Effects: Dusk Castes’ anima effects enhance their battle prowess, making them terrifying
champions of death (p. XX).
Caste Abilities: As unparalleled masters of violence and warfare, Dusk Castes choose Caste Abilities
from Archery, Athletics, Brawl, Melee, Resistance, Ride, Thrown, and War.
Associations: Death by violence, the season of spring, the color white, the Eastern direction, the full
moon.
Sobriquets: Peacebringers, Children of Ash, Swords of the Abyss, They Who Sing Forsaken Hymns.
Concepts: Aristocratic duelist, avenger of the dead, chivalrous warrior-poet, Deathlord’s general, foul-
mouthed cavalier, gladiator set free in death, killer for hire, slayer of the wicked, veteran legionnaire, war-
necromancer.
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Midnight Caste
Midnight silences the world’s endless clamor, revealing the alluring beauty of the night as the sun lies
dead. Hidden by the deepest of darkness, the dead conduct their forbidden rites. This, the Midnight Caste
teaches, is the true face of death, a beauty unblemished by life’s imperfection. They Who Speak
Blasphemous Truths preach death’s glory to the living, promising freedom from suffering in the embrace
of the grave. Such is the Deathspeakers’ compassion that they will not rest until all have escaped from the
meaningless lie that is life. Among the dead, they are bleak prophets and terrible god-kings, exerting their
authority as Death’s Lawgivers.
The Children of Silence are skilled in swaying minds and subverting beliefs. They bend the wills of the
living and the dead alike through fiery rhetoric, enthralling performances, or spiritual teachings. The
ignorant and the foolish shun death’s perfection, and so the Echoes of the Abyssal must often conduct
their dark rites in secret, employing all manner of subterfuge. They serve the Deathlords as evangelists,
hierophants, and patrons of forbidden death-cults, spreading their masters’ bleak gospel through both the
Underworld and Creation. Some Midnight Castes willingly seek out the Whispers of the Neverborn,
seeking a deeper communion with the fallen titans.
Many Deathspeakers are chosen from those who have already embraced death in their mortal life:
ancestor cultists, funerealists, denizens of shadowlands, morbid outcasts, and more. Others are chosen for
their devotion and zeal: ascetics who fast unto death, willing martyrs, cultists who defy the suppression of
their faith. Some Deathlords delight in choosing Midnight Castes from those whose faith has been broken,
tempting monks to death’s service.
Midnight Castes who defy their dread masters often embrace the mantle of Death’s Lawgiver. They might
champion ancestor cults, speaking for the dead and rebuking their faithless descendants, or preach their
own gospels of death. Others seek rulership, wresting kingdoms of the dead away from unworthy rulers
and casting down decrepit regimes. Some scorn the Deathlords, but not their cause, becoming dark
prophets of the Neverborn and leaders of apocalyptic cults.
Caste Mark: Deathspeakers’ Caste Marks are dark reflections of the Zenith Caste’s, solid black discs that
bleed from their edges.
Anima Banner: Most Midnight Castes’ anima banners are blacker than black, visible even in total
darkness, though some are tinged with deep blues. It’s sometimes accompanied by eerie hymns, the
murmuring of insects, or the cries of nocturnal predators, or by the scents of dead flowers, funereal
incense, or burnt offerings.
Iconic Anima: A ruined temple or mausoleum; a spectral choir singing paeans to the Abyssal’s glory; a
sacrificial bull dying atop an altar of blood-stained basalt; leaden tablets engraved with unholy
commandments; etc.
Anima Effects: Deathspeakers’ anima effects let them reanimate the dead, summon ghosts to their
corpses and bind them as familiars, and sway others through words or performance — especially the
dead. (p. XX).
Caste Abilities: As death-priests, subversive demagogues, and dread prophets of the Neverborn,
Midnight Castes choose Caste Abilities from Integrity, Larceny, Linguistics, Lore, Performance,
Presence, Resistance, and Survival.
Associations: Death by nature, the season of summer, the color yellow, the Southern direction, the half
moon.
Sobriquets: Deathspeakers, Children of Silence, Echoes of the Abyss, They Who Speak Blasphemous
Truths.
Concepts: Ancestor cult priest, blasphemous theologian, disgraced monk, judge of the dead, leader of a
forbidden cult, prince of the Underworld, revolutionary leader, speaker for the Neverborn, shadowland
nomad, subversive orator.
END ONE-PAGE SPREAD
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Daybreak Caste
As the hated sun rises to drive back the dark, its light banishes the last lingering mysteries, lest these
blasphemous truths be discovered by the living. But there is no secret that can be kept from the Daybreak
Caste, no forbidden lore that lies beyond their grasp. The Bleak Exaltation has given them all eternity to
master the world’s mysteries and hone their unclean arts, achieving a perfection denied to mortal scholars.
Relentless in their pursuit of knowledge, the Pyrekeepers seek out ancient libraries of long-dead
civilizations, pore over forbidden tomes of deathly lore, and conduct gruesome experiments on corpses
and souls.
The Children of Bone seek knowledge of all kinds, from lost texts of long-dead civilizations to the
research notes of an alchemist’s apprentice on the verge of a breakthrough. Some jealously hoard their
learning, burning libraries, murdering scholars, and defacing monuments to keep their secrets out of
others’ hands. The Deathlords prize the knowledge their Pyrekeepers can offer, along with their skill as
necromancers, artificers, and delvers of the Underworld’s depths. Some ply the Sea of Shadows, carrying
out voyages of exploration or retrieving ancient secrets from far corners of the sunless realm.
The Deathlords seek insight, cunning, and ambition in their Daybreaks. The Pyrekeepers’ ranks include
the likes of savants, physicians, and learned elders, but also those who’ve dirtied their hands in pursuit of
knowledge, like scavenger princes, grave robbers, and inquisitors. Mortal necromancers are especially
prized, gifted pupils eager for their masters’ dark knowledge. Those whose curiosity proves their undoing
are especially appealing as Daybreaks to some Deathlords.
Renegade Daybreak Castes are still driven by the pursuit of knowledge — indeed, some defect so that
they may dedicate themselves wholly to the study of the Underworld’s secrets. Some hoard whatever
knowledge they find for themselves, while others profit off secrets, acting as intelligence brokers to
princes, merchants, and even other Deathlords. Some errant Pyrekeepers turn their wisdom to
compassionate ends, tending to the sick or building marvels of engineering, though the gruesome nature
of their work may disquiet the living.
Caste Mark: Pyrekeepers’ Caste Marks resemble those of the Twilight Caste: black circles with only the
top half filled, dripping with blood that weeps from its edges.
Anima Banner: A Daybreak Caste’s anima banner is typically a black mingled with greys, purples, dark
greens, bruise-blues, and dark reds. It’s sometimes accompanied by the sounds of twisting muscle and
splintering bone, or the smell of rotting parchment, charnel smoke, or embalmed corpses.
Iconic Anima: Labyrinthine patterns of impossible geometries; an ever-watching eye that shines with
baleful light; countless tomes set ablaze in an inferno of pyreflame; a withered tree whose boughs bear
gruesome fruit; etc.
Anima Effects: Pyrekeepers’ anima effects let them draw power from dark inspiration grant insight into
supernatural forces, and let them vanish and reappear in places steeped in death (p. XX).
Caste Abilities: Scholars of the forbidden and masters of death’s mysteries, Daybreak Castes choose
Caste Abilities from Awareness, Bureaucracy, Craft, Investigation, Lore, Medicine, Occult, and Sail.
Associations: Death by pestilence, the season of autumn, the color orange, the Western direction, the
crescent moon.
Sobriquets: Pyrekeepers, Children of Bone, Eyes of the Abyss, They Who Work Unclean Arts.
Concepts: Artisan of undead horrors, battlefield chirurgeon, calculating strategist, Deathlord’s artificer,
explorer of the Underworld, historian of a bygone era, necromantic prodigy, obsessive magistrate,
scavenger prince, scholar of forbidden knowledge.
END ONE-PAGE SPREAD
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Day Caste
The light of day promises safety to the living, but its promise is a lie. Death can come anywhere, at any
time, and there is no refuge from it. The Day Caste are the proof of this, the hidden knives of the
Deathlords. Those Who Dwell Among the Wretched walk unseen in Creation, insinuating themselves into
mortal communities like wolves hidden among the flock. Only the trail of bodies that litters their their
wake betrays their presence, though the Daywalkers are gone long before their victims are found. All that
the living can do is weep over the grisly remains as their delusions of safety are shattered forevermore.
The Children of Blood are masters of subtlety, upholding death’s chivalry from the shadows. Many are
killers, well-versed in the arts of unseen death, while others are masters of espionage, tracking, or
criminal endeavors. Day Castes serve their lieges as assassins, spymasters, thieves, and saboteurs, both
among the living and within the citadels of their Deathlord’s foes. Some act as their liege’s unseen
enforcers, leading their Deathlord’s secret police to root out dissent and disloyalty within the ghost-king’s
domains. Others deal with the Underworld’s crime syndicates, subverting them to their Deathlord’s ends
— or their own.
The Deathlords choose many of their Day Castes from those already skilled in subterfuge: grifters,
thieves, poisoners, spies, and the like. For other Daywalkers, subtlety isn’t a skill, but a part of their lives,
whether by choice or necessity: dissidents under harsh regimes, escaped slaves fleeing pursuit, urchins
living on the streets. Some Deathlords seek only the most callous and hateful of Day Castes, lest the
Children of Blood come to feel sympathy for the mortals they must often walk among.
Some renegade Day Castes sell their services as spies and assassins, commanding a hefty fee for their
incomparable prowess. Others turn their skills to political or ideological ends, while others seek a
redemption of sorts by hunting down and slaying the wicked. Some renegade Daywalkers never leave
their Deathlord’s service, working from within to undermine their liege’s agenda, assassinate key agents,
and leak information to powerful rivals.
Caste Mark: Daywalkers’ Caste Marks mirror those of the Night Caste: empty black circles that bleed
from their edges.
Anima Banner: A Day Caste’s anima banner is typically black and grey, sometimes tinted with sickly
greens. It’s sometimes accompanied by whispering voices, stifled screams, or eerie silences, or by the
scents of extinguished candles or poisonous flowers.
Iconic Anima: Phantom assassins made of sharp-edged shadows; a gallows hung with the corpses of the
Abyssal’s most recent victims; spectral images of coiling serpents or other venomous animals; a cloud of
mist stained crimson with blood; etc.
Anima Effects: Daywalkers’ anima effects grant insuperable subtlety, concealing their anima, their
presence, and their identity (p. XX).
Caste Abilities: Walking unseen among the living in pursuit of their prey, Day Castes choose Caste
Abilities from Athletics, Awareness, Investigation, Dodge, Larceny, Socialize, Stealth, and Survival.
Associations: Death by chance, the season of winter, the color indigo, the Northern direction, the new
moon.
Sobriquets: Daywalkers, Children of Blood, Shadows of the Abyss, They Who Dwell Among the
Wretched.
Concepts: Criminal kingpin, Deathlord’s spymaster, deep cover agent among the living, hunter of the
wicked, infamous assassin, relentless bounty hunter, shadowlands smuggler, street urchin, thief spared
from the gallows, vigilante detective.
END ONE-PAGE SPREAD
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Moonshadow Caste
As the bloodstained moon eclipses the sun, the dark of night swallows up the day. The living look up to
the baleful omen hanging in the sky, holding their breath as they silently pray for it to pass. Such is
grandeur of the Moonshadow Caste. They are envoys of the end, harbingers of doom who speak in
honeyed words. They stand at the crossroads of life and death in a darkness that is neither day nor night,
bringing together the living and the undead.
The Children of Dust are masters of diplomacy and manipulation, silver-tongued schemers versed in the
etiquette of both Creation and the Underworld. As emissaries and ambassadors of the Deathlords, they
conduct negotiations with neighboring powers, traveling to the courts of foreign powers to forge binding
treaties that seem to benefit both sides. Secretly, they sow discord and foment upheaval, rendering
communities both living and dead vulnerable to their Deathlord’s plots. Some are tasked with preserving
order within their liege’s domain, arbitrating disputes among the Deathlord’s servants and subjects.
The Deathlords often seek their Moonshadow Castes from those gifted in deception: demagogues
peddling lies to the masses, treacherous courtiers skilled in palace intrigue, double-dealing power brokers.
Even the pettiest of deceptions might catch a Deathlord’s eye: the child who lies to avoid her parents’
wrath, the rake who feigns love for her paramours, the merchant with crooked scales. Other Webspinners
are chosen for their skill in shaping societies or overseeing complex affairs of state, like pitiless tyrants,
bureaucratic functionaries, leaders of cultural movements.
Some renegade Moonshadows seek to create a better world, one that has no place for their Deathlord —
and perhaps, no place for the dead. Among the living, they often work through envoys, proxies, and
agents, manipulating affairs in Creation from the Underworld’s shadows. Among the dead, they can
proclaim their authority openly as Death’s Lawgivers, excising corruption and unjust laws like a cancer.
Some seek to rally opposition against their former liege, forging coalitions between unlikely allies and
sabotaging the Deathlord’s diplomatic relations.
Caste Mark: Webspinners’ Caste Marks are an inversion of the Eclipse Caste’s: a black disc within a
black ring that bleeds from its edges.
Anima Banner: A Moonshadow Caste’s anima banner is typically colored with translucent grays and
blacks, sometimes glimmering with faint pale purple and green. It’s sometimes accompanied by the sound
of clinking chains or scratching quills, or by sickly-sweet scents of pomegranates, perfume, or honey.
Iconic Anima: A vast spider web, lit by moonlight; a procession of gilded and bejeweled skeletons; a
barrow-hoard of ancient treasures; a death-barge sailing a river of shadows; etc.
Anima Effects: Webspinners’ anima powers let them seal oaths, learn the magic of strange spirits, and
invoke ancient pact of hospitality.
Caste Abilities: As ambassadors and diplomats of the Underworld, Moonshadow Castes choose Caste
Abilities from Bureaucracy, Integrity, Linguistics, Occult, Presence, Ride, Sail, and Socialize.
Associations: Death by deprivation, Calibration, the color silver, the Central direction, the gibbous moon.
Sobriquets: Webspinners, Children of Dust, Judges of the Abyss, They Who Walk Within Webs of
Deception.
Concepts: Agent provocateur, assassinated noble, courtly intriguer, Deathlord’s propagandist, envoy of
the dead, master of brinksmanship, merchant of death, shadowland shaman, tragic poet, Underworld
power broker.
END ONE-PAGE SPREAD

Anima
As the Abyssal Exalted expend Essence, they become wreathed in the chilling darkness of their anima
banner. For every five motes of Peripheral Essence she spends in an instant, her anima banner rises
one level.
BEGIN TABLE

Anima Level Effects

Dim The Abyssal’s anima is invisible.
Glowing The Abyssal’s anima outlines her body in darkness. Her Caste Mark
shines with darkness and begins to bleed, visible through anything placed over it.
Stealth and disguise rolls suffer a −3 penalty.
Burning The Abyssal’s anima flares into aura of radiant darkness. It casts an
eerie chill, and objects caught within it may corrode, wither, or rot. Stealth is
impossible.
Bonfire/Iconic The Abyssal’s anima ignites into a bonfire stretching into the
sky, visible for miles around. Upon reaching bonfire, and at suitably dramatic
moments, her anima manifests a personalized iconic display: Her anima
completely illuminates her surroundings within short range. Stealth is impossible.
END TABLE

Anima Effects
For one mote, an Abyssal can:
• Cause her Caste Mark to manifest for as long as she desires.
• Sense the approximate location of any nearby shadowlands.
• Extend fangs, allowing her to deal lethal damage with decisive savaging attacks against grappled
enemies. She can drink the blood of the living to regain motes if they’re willing or helpless, gaining one
mote for each level of lethal damage she inflicts.
Dusk Anima Effects
Death is Inevitable (Permanent): At bonfire anima, the Peacebringer adds (Essence/2, rounded up) to her
base Initiative when she resets to base Initiative after a decisive attack.
Fear Made Flesh (Permanent) The Peacebringer adds (Essence/2, rounded up) non-Charm dice on
threaten rolls and other fear-based influence, and can affect characters who’re normally immune to fear,
like zombies and automatons. This doesn’t overcome magical immunity to fear.
Walking Apocalypse (10m; Reflexive; Instant): The Peacebringer resets all Charms related to combat
and movement. Once per day.

Midnight Anima Effects

Death’s Master (10m [3m]; Simple; Instant): Invoking her dread authority, the Midnight binds a ghost to
herself. She must touch him and roll (Intelligence + Occult) against its Resolve. If successful, he’s bound
to her, and counts as her familiar (Exalted, p. 161). This doesn’t compel his obedience. She can summon
the ghost to her reflexively for three motes, or banish it for free, returning it to its Underworld abode. She
may bind up to (Essence) ghosts.
Prophet of the Void (5m; Supplemental; Instant; Mute): The Deathspeaker adds (higher of Essence or 3)
non-Charm dice on an inspire, instill, or threaten roll. The undead count as having a Minor Intimacy
supporting it, and she can influence even mindless undead. This power’s cost is waived at bonfire anima.
Wake From Death: (1m or 10m, 1wp; Simple; Instant): For one mote, the Midnight reanimates a corpse
as a zombie (Exalted, p. 502). Once per day, she can spend ten motes, one Willpower to summon the
ghost of someone who’s been dead no more than three days to his corpse. This doesn’t let her bind the
ghost.

Daybreak Anima Effects

Chthonic Gateway (10m, 1wp; Reflexive; Instant): The Pyrekeeper can use this power on her turn to
vanish into her anima’s darkness. This isn’t immediate — if she moves or suffers forced movement or
knockdown before her next turn, this power is negated. Otherwise, once her next turn begins, she
disappears. She reappears at the next sunrise at a location associated with death that’s somewhere within
ten miles. She might appear in a shadowland, an Abyssal manse, a great mausoleum, the tomb-palace of a
ghostly prince, or the like.
Essence-Flensing Insight (5m; Simple; Instant): The Daybreak rolls ([Perception or Intelligence] +
[Awareness, Investigation, Lore, or Occult]) against the Guile of a supernatural being to discern a useful
detail about his magical power. This might reveal that a Zenith Caste with numerous Integrity Charms
will be difficult to persuade or that a Dragon-Blood’s daiklave can smite creatures of darkness. She must
already be aware a character is supernatural to use this power on him. This power’s cost is waived at
bonfire anima.
Twisted Genius Inspiration (—; Reflexive; Instant): While at burning anima or higher, the Pyrekeeper
can either gain one Willpower, add (Essence + highest Mental Attribute) necromantic motes to a spell
she’s shaping, or add a free full Excellency on any mental action, other than Join Battle. (The Excellency
counts as a Charm bonus). Once per day.

Day Anima Effects

Caul of Shadows (Permanent): At bonfire anima, the Abyssal’s anima engulfs her in darkness, making it
impossible to discern her identity or any details of her experience. This concealment is perfect, defeating
even magic like Eye of the Unconquered Sun (Exalted, p. 273).
Embrace of Shadows (2m; Reflexive; Instant; Mute): The Daywalker mutes all motes spent in an instant.
Walking in Daylight (3m; Supplemental; Instant; Mute): The Abyssal ignores up to (higher of Essence
or 3) points of penalties on a Stealth roll.

Moonshadow Anima Effects

Death’s Emissary (Permanent): While conducting diplomacy or other legitimate business with spirits or
the Fair Folk, the Webspinner and her companions are protected by ancient pacts, requiring her hosts to
observe local customs of hospitality and preventing them from attacking her or her entourage. If the
Moonshadow or one of her companions breaks the peace first, they lose this protection.
Keeper of the Old Laws (10m, 1wp; Reflexive; Instant): When the Moonshadow hears someone make a
promise or swear an oath, she may invoke the Old Laws to seal the pact. She may manifest her Caste
Mark and anima banner in a brief display if she wishes. Those who violate the pact suffer consequences
chosen by the Storyteller, often a punishment that reflects the nature of their violation.
Unworldly Emissary Secrets (Permanent): The Moonshadow can learn Eclipse Charms for eight
experience or four bonus points each.

Character Advancement
Abyssals gain five experience points per session.
BEGIN TABLE

Attribute increase current rating x4

Non-Caste, Non-Favored Ability increase current rating x2
Caste/Favored Ability increase (current rating x2) − 1
New Ability 3
Specialty 3
Purchased Merit new rating x3
Willpower 8
Abyssal Charm 10 (8 if Ability is Caste/Favored)
Martial Arts Charm 10 (8 if Martial Arts is Caste/Favored)
Sidereal Martial Arts Charm 12 (10 if Martial Arts is Caste/Favored)
Spell 10 (8 if Occult is Caste/Favored)
Evocation 10
END TABLE

Abyssal Experience
Abyssals can earn Abyssal experience by fulfilling Experience Bonuses and Role Bonuses. She can
achieve each of these once per session, which grants two Abyssal Experience. It can be spent on any
experience cost except learning Abyssal Charms.

Expression Bonus
Once per session, a deathknight can earn two Abyssal Experience from:
• Expressing or upholding Major or Defining Intimacies in a way that reveals something significant
about her or provides character growth.
• Facing significant challenges or danger to uphold Major or Defining Intimacies.
• Facing significant obstacles from Flaws (Exalted, p. 167).

Role Bonus
Once per session, a deathknight can earn two Abyssal Experience from:
• Intentionally ceding the scene’s “spotlight” to another player character to set him up for an
interesting or dramatic moment or directly supporting him in such a moment.
• Dusk Caste: Using martial prowess in service to death’s chivalry; defeating a powerful enemy;
harming, killing, or destroying someone or something the Peacebringer has a negative Major or Defining
Tie toward; inciting violent conflict or wanton destruction to uphold a Major or Defining Intimacy.
• Midnight Caste: Using social influence or leadership in service to death’s chivalry; Inspiring a
nontrivial character to uphold one of the Abyssal’s Major or Defining Intimacies in a significant way;
enduring great hardship for the sake of a Major of Defining Intimacy; or spreading the worship of the
dead, the bleak doctrine of the Deathlords, or similar teachings.
• Daybreak Caste: Using intellect, knowledge, or necromancy in service to death’s chivalry;
discovering lost lore of the Underworld or similarly valuable knowledge; learning something that helps
advance or protect a Major or Defining Intimacy; creating a last work of supernatural power, like an
artifact or necromantic working.
• Day Caste: Using stealth, subterfuge, and underhanded means in service to death’s chivalry;
stealing something that help furthers her or her Circle’s goals; gaining an advantage against someone by
uncovering his secrets; upholding a Major or Defining Intimacy through illicit or illegal means.
• Moonshadow Caste: Bringing the living and the dead together in service to death’s chivalry;
resolving a significant dispute; overcoming social or geographical obstacles that stand in the way of her or
her Circle’s goals; inspiring or taking part in the destruction or transformation of a social institution.

Training Times
Raising traits with experience points requires training or time spent gaining practical experience. Multiple
traits can be trained simultaneously if it makes sense. A mentor can reduce the times listed below, as can
devoting one’s time fully to training.
BEGIN TABLE

Attribute (new rating) months

Non-Caste/Favored Ability (new rating) weeks
Caste/Favored Ability (new rating) days
Specialty two weeks
Purchased Merit (new rating) weeks
Willpower one month
Charm (Ability + Essence minimum) days, or (Ability minimum) days if
Caste/Favored
Spell (Circle x2) weeks
Evocation (Essence minimum x4) days
END TABLE

Raising Essence
An Abyssal’s Essence increases once she’s spent a certain amount of experience (not including Sidereal
experience). She must then cultivate her Essence while meditating in the Underworld’s depths or other
places tainted by death, though a player character’s Essence may increase instantly in dramatic, character-
defining moments.
BEGIN TABLE

Essence 2 50 xp
Essence 3 125 xp
Essence 4: 200 xp
Essence 5: 300 xp
Essence 6: Only available at Storyteller’s discretion.
END TABLE
When using experienced character creation rules, (p. XX), reduce these thresholds by 50.

The Great Curse

The Abyssals’ corruption did not spare them from the Great Curse. It still festers within the depths of
their souls, taking root in the deathknights’ apocalyptic vows. A deathknight might rebel against the
Deathlords and the Neverborn, but even those who defy the cause of death and betray their masters must
contend with the darkness within.

Gaining Limit
An Abyssal who defies her dark purpose, rolling dice and gaining Limit equal to her successes under the
following circumstances.
• When she purposefully saves a life or acts indirectly to save many lives, she rolls three dice.
Mercy shown in the name of death’s chivalry doesn’t incur this.
• When she interacts with the living as though she were one of them, she rolls two dice. This
doesn’t punish simply for being seen as one of the living — she’s free to infiltrate Creation, so long as she
never forgets that her place is among the dead.
• When she answers to the name she had in life or otherwise acknowledges her mortal life, she rolls
one die.
Each of these triggers can only occur once per scene.

Losing Limit
The Abyssal can lose Limit in a number of ways
• Upholding death’s chivalry (p. XX).
• Accomplishing a legendary social goal (Exalted, p. 134), which lets her lose one Limit.
• Spending downtime among the dead, which lets her lose one Limit. She can gain this benefit in
Creation if she surrounds herself in the trappings of death.

Bleak Expiation
An Abyssal doesn’t experience Limit Breaks or reset her Limit when she reaches Limit 10. Instead, the
Abyssal Great Curse takes the form of Bleak Expiation, a torment inflicted upon the deathknight by her
own baleful Essence.
Expiation occurs under the following circumstances:
• Once the Abyssal reaches Limit 10, the Abyssal automatically suffers Expiation at the next
dramatically appropriate moment.
• The Storyteller can call for Expiation once per session.
• An Abyssal’s player can invoke Expiation once per session. The Storyteller may delay it if it
would be dramatically inappropriate in the current scene.
When an Abyssal suffers Expiation, she rolls (higher of Essence or 3) dice, or ten dice if she’s at Limit
10. She loses Limit equal to her successes, minimum one, as the Great Curse stirs. The Storyteller
determines what form this, allocating the Limit purged by the roll among the manifestations listed below
or similar effects. The severity of a manifestation is rated like an Intimacy, based on how much purged
Limit it costs: one for Minor, two for Major, or three for Defining.

Expiation in Brief
A summary of Expiation:
Step 1: The Abyssal reaches Limit 10, or her player or the Storyteller inflicts
Expiation (maximum once per session, each).
Step 2: The Abyssal rolls (higher of Essence or 3).
Step 3: The Abyssal loses Limit equal to her successes, minimum one.
Step 4: The Storyteller spends the purged Limit on the Expiation’s effects (1 for
Minor, 2 for Major, 3 for Defining).

Blight
A Blight taints the world with death’s Essence, corrupting natural things with the touch of rot, entropy,
and decay.
Minor Blights are eerie and unnerving, but can’t cause anything more than superficial harm. Their effects
are limited to the Abyssal’s immediate presence — out to long range in combat. Ongoing effects last for
one day unless otherwise specified. Examples include:
• Food spoils or crumbles to ash.
• Temperatures fall rapidly.
• Flames are snuffed out.
• Nearby vegetation wilts, and grass dies when the Abyssal walks over it.
• Standing water freezes.
• A chill wind follows in the Abyssal’s wake.
• Shadows lengthen and grow darker.
Major Blights have a larger scope, capable of affecting a large town or a significant portion of a city. It
can inflict meaningful harm or destruction, comparable to what mundane dangers or calamities might
cause. They last one session unless otherwise specified.
• Crops wither and cattle are born stillborn in large numbers for the next season.
• A sudden thunderstorm fills the sky, raining down tears and crackling with black lighting.
• Corpses rise as ravenous zombies, remaining animated until the next sunrise.
• Insects, vermin, and other small animals die en masse.
Defining Blights can affect small cities or much of a large city, potentially inflicting supernatural perils.
They last one session unless otherwise specified.
• A shadowland opens for (Abyssal’s Essence) days.
• A great thunderstorm fills the sky, crackling with black lightning and raining down chips of
razor-sharp bone.
• An earthquake ravages the land, unearthing ancient graves.
• The dead rise en masse as rampaging zombies, remaining animated for the rest of the story.

Corruption
The Great Curse poisons the Abyssal’s soul, twisting her into a heartless champion of the grave.
Whatever compassion they cling to turns to ash, while hatred drowns out the light of hope.
All levels of Corruption share three effects: imposing Intimacies, weakening Intimacies, or inflicting
Whispers.
Imposing Intimacies
The Abyssal gains an Intimacy with the same intensity as the Corruption. This can’t be resisted with
Willpower, and the Intimacy can’t be weakened by any means for the rest of the session. Examples of
suitable Intimacies include
• Negative Ties, especially toward the living.
• Intimacies based on cynicism, despair, or sorrow.
• Principles that reflect a positive outlook on death.
• Principles that align with death’s chivalry.
• Ties of fascination for things that are darkly beautiful, like graveyards, blood, wolves, or spiders.
Weakening Intimacies
The Corruption weakens an Intimacy of the same intensity or lower. It can’t be restored to its former
intensity for the rest of the session. Suitable Intimacies are those antithetical to the kinds of Intimacies
that Corruption can inflict. Examples include:
• Positive Ties toward the living.
• Intimacies based on hope, joy, or compassion.
• Principles that reflect a negative outlook on death.
• Principles that run counter to death’s chivalry.
• Intimacies related to things from the Abyssal’s mortal life.
Imposing Whispers
The Abyssal temporarily gains Whispers (p. XX). Minor Corruption inflicts two-dot Whispers for one
session. Major Corruption can inflict two-dot Whispers for one story or four-dot Whispers for one
session. Defining Corruption inflicts four-dot Whispers for one story. The Abyssal can gain Whispers
permanently for experience debt (p. XX).

Stigmata
Stigmata brand the Abyssal as one of the damned, marking her with an eerie and unworldly figure. Some
are subtle, omens recognized only by the wise. Others are unmistakable, revealing the Abyssal’s dark
nature to all who see her.
Minor Stigmata are subtle, either difficult to notice or possible to explain away. They last one scene
unless otherwise specified. Examples include:
• The Abyssal’s skin becomes unnaturally cold.
• The deathknight casts no reflection, or her reflection appears as a rotting corpse.
• The smell of grave dirt and decay clings to the Abyssal.
• Raitons follow the deathknight in large numbers.
• The Abyssal’s shadow distends, its proportions growing warped and inhuman.
• The deathknight’s presence unnerves animals.
• The deathknight’s eyes glow red, are filled with solid black, or undergo similar changes.
Major Stigmata are much harder to conceal or explain, marking the Abyssal as a thing of death. They
last one session unless otherwise specified. Examples include:
• The Abyssal’s hands drip endlessly with blood, soaking through anything used to cover them.
• The Abyssal’s shadow takes on a life of its own, moving independently of her.
• Animals flee from the deathknight’s presence unless they’re familiars or have been trained for
battle.
• The Abyssal suffer a Minor Stigmata for one session.
Defining Stigmata are unambiguous and unconcealable manifestations of monstrosity. They last one
session unless otherwise specified. Examples include:
• The Abyssal’s flesh rots and withers, giving her the appearance of a shambling corpse and
inflicting a −3 penalty on Appearance rolls.
• Eerie phantoms swirl around the Abyssal, weeping or silently screaming.
• Mortals find the Abyssal’s presence unbearable, bleeding from the eyes when they look on her
and treating any positive Ties toward her as one step weaker.
• The Abyssal suffer a Major Stigmata for one story.

Storytelling Expiation
The Great Curse isn’t meant to punish players. The Storyteller should use it to
create dramatic moments or conflicts for a deathknight that will be enjoyable for
the players, if not for their characters. Keep this in mind both when deciding when
to invoke Expiation and when choosing effects. Choosing multiple Minor effects
may be less harsh than a single Major or Defining one, but it may set up a better
moment in the story.

Thralldom
Thralldom usurps the Abyssal’s will, holding her to the vows she’s sworn. It compels the Abyssal to do
something that either upholds death’s chivalry, exemplifies her Caste’s role, or otherwise serves the
Neverborn’s will. The Thralldom’s level determines what level of task it can compel (Exalted, p. 216):
inconvenient tasks at Minor, serious tasks at Major, and life-changing tasks at Defining.
Thralldom can only compel acts that the Abyssal could complete in the current or next scene. It can’t
force her to act against an Intimacy whose intensity equals or exceeds the Expiation’s, nor can it compel
anything would be unacceptable influence (Exalted, p. 220).
Chapter Six: Charms
Great and terrible is the power of the Abyssal Exalted. Their prowess is a dark reflection of the Solars’
arete, corrupted by the bleak power of the Neverborn and the baleful legends forged by the Deathlords.

Power of Death’s Chosen

Excellencies
The Abyssals’ simplest powers are their Excellencies. When a deathknight makes an (Attribute + Ability)
roll, she may add dice to it for one mote each with that Ability’s Excellency. She may also use
Excellencies to raise her static values — Evasion, Parry, Resolve, and Guile — paying two motes for each
+1 bonus.
Gaining Excellencies: An Abyssal automatically gains the Excellency of any of her Caste or Favored
Abilities she has at least one dot in, as well as any other Abilities she knows at least one Charm from.

Dice Limit
Abyssals can’t add more than (Attribute + Ability) dice from Excellencies or other magic to a roll, or
more than ([Attribute + Ability] / 2, rounded up) to a static value.

Charms and Ability Restrictions

By default, Abyssal Charms can only enhance actions and static values that use their associated Ability.
This includes Simple and Reflexive Charms that create actions, which must use the Charm’s Ability. For
instance, a Melee Charm can’t be used to counterattack with Brawl unless it specifies otherwise.
Some exceptions exist. If a Charm enhances or creates a roll or static value that normally doesn’t use that
Charm’s Ability — e.g., Occult Charms that enhance attacks — that Charm can be used with the normal
Ability for that roll or value. Additionally, some Charms allow the Abyssal to substitute one Ability for
another for certain rolls or values. They can enhance such actions with Charms of both Abilities.
Abyssal Charms can be freely combined with Evocations.

Keywords
Abyssal Charms use the following keywords in addition to those listed on Exalted, p. 253.

Versatile
Combat Ability Charms with this keyword can enhance attacks and parries with Martial Arts if the
Abyssal uses a weapon compatible with that Ability. Versatile Charms from multiple combat Abilities
can’t enhance the same action.

Whispers
This keyword provides additional benefits for Abyssals with the Whispers Merit (p. XX). Such effects
often use (Whispers) calculations. Its value equals the Merit rating of the Abyssal’s Whispers.
Whisper Charms sometimes invoke the Abyssal’s use of her Whispers. This means they count against the
reset limit on using Whispers.

Charm Concept: Negative Principles

Some Abyssal Charms invoke or exploit negative Principles. Like negative Ties, these are Principles that
express or are based on a negative emotion. Examples include “Fear is the greatest teacher” or “I am
easily stirred to wrath.”

Archery
Barrow-Knight Panoply
Cost: —; Mins: Archery 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal is one with her arsenal, each weapon an extension of her killing intent.
While the Abyssal has one full-cost attunement to an artifact weapon, she reduces the attunement cost of
further artifact weapons by three motes each. This doesn’t stack with other discounts. It doesn’t matter
what Ability the weapons use.
If the deathknight ends her full-cost attunement, she must commit enough motes to bring another
attunement to its full cost, or else all discounted attunements end.
Special: This Charm may alternatively be learned as a Brawl, Melee, or Thrown Charm.

Bloodthirsty Arrow
Cost: 1m; Mins: Archery 2, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s arrow twists through the air in search of her prey.
The Abyssal reduces an enemy’s Defense bonus from cover by one, or inflicts −1 Defense on an enemy
without cover.
If the attack benefits from aiming, it can strike enemies behind full cover, passing directly through the
obstruction as long as there’s some opening for the attack to pass through. However, such enemies still
receive +3 non-Charm Defense from the cover.

Bolts of Inescapable Dread

Cost: 3m; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
Loosing an artful warning shot, the Abyssal destroys her foe’s hopes of escape.
The Abyssal fires a warning shot, a difficulty 1 gambit rolled against the lower of an enemy’s Defense or
Resolve. Enemies suffer −2 Resolve if their Initiative is lower than the Abyssal’s or they can’t perceive
her.
If the gambit succeeds, the Abyssal’s terrified victim suffers a −1 penalty on all rolls for the rest of the
scene, which increases to penalty of the (higher of Abyssal’s Essence or 3) on disengage and Awareness
rolls. While within short range of the Abyssal, he also suffers −2 Evasion and Resolve.
If the victim crashes the Abyssal or deals 3+ decisive damage to her with an attack, he may pay one
Willpower to resist this effect.
Special activation rules: The Abyssal can use this Charm reflexively on her first turn in combat, and it
doesn’t count as her attack for the round. If she wins Join Battle, she can use this Charm immediately,
making a gambit against any number of enemies who see the shot. She makes a single Initiative roll,
adding +1 difficulty for each nontrivial enemy past the first, maximum 4.

Deadly Feathered Maelstrom

Cost: 4m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
Her fingers an unnatural blur, the Abyssal draws and fires a barrage of arrows.
The Abyssal makes up to (Dexterity) decisive attacks dividing her Initiative evenly among them, rounded
up. She doesn’t need to aim to attack enemiesat medium range. Each 10 on these attack rolls adds one die
to that attack’s damage roll. Her Initiative doesn’t reset until all attacks are completed.

Elegant Executioner’s Art

Cost: 1m; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
The deathknight draws in close, savoring the fear in her victim’s eyes.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she attacks from close range. A withering attack’s Accuracy is
calculated as if it had been made from short range, and it adds (higher of Essence or 3) Overwhelming. A
decisive attack adds a non-Charm success on the attack roll.
With an Archery 4 repurchase, this Charm can enhance attacks from any range as long as the deathknight
uses her movement action to move towards her target on the same tick. She also gains this benefit against
enemies she’s reflexively pursued him as part of a successful rush since her last turn.

Ravenous Hunter’s Yearning

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
The Abyssal dedicates herself to the hunt, making her more alert, deft, and aggressive.
The Abyssal chooses an individual to be her quarry. She adds one non-Charm die on rolls to track him,
rush him, or oppose his disguise or Stealth rolls for each of the following that’s true:
• She’s faced her quarry in combat in the current story.
• Her quarry has a −1 or higher wound penalty.
• She has a Major or Defining Tie that supports pursuing her quarry.
• Her quarry has a Tie of fear that applies to her.
This Charm’s Willpower cost is waived if the Abyssal uses it against an enemy after damaging him with a
decisive attack or crashing him with a withering attack.
With an Archery 5, Essence 3 repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a three-mote surcharge to treat all the
living as her quarry. This can’t receive the discount above.

Twisting Spiteful Shaft

Cost: 2m; Mins: Archery 4, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
The deathknight’s arrow burrows through her victim’s flesh, boring deeper and deeper towards
his heart.
The Abyssal adds one die of damage to a decisive attack. If it deals 3+ damage, her arrow begins
burrowing into her victim. His wound penalty is increased by −1, and he suffers (Abyssal’s Essence) dice
of lethal damage at the start of each of his turns, ignoring Hardness.
Removing the arrow requires an (Wits + Medicine) roll at difficulty (higher of Abyssal’s Strength or 3),
as a miscellaneous action.

Hundred Paces Bite

Cost: 2i; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only, Versatile
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s hunger knows no bounds, supping on distant bloodshed.
When the Abyssal deals damage with a decisive attack, she steals (1 + attack roll extra successes) motes.
She can’t gain more than (Dexterity, Perception, or Strength) motes per round with this Charm.

Stealing Motes
A number of Abyssal Charms let them steal motes. Motes can only be stolen from
characters with mote pools of their own, and the deathknight can’t steel more
motes than an enemy has. She may choose whether to drain personal or peripheral
motes with such effects, adding them to the same pool she steals from.

Relic Arrow Method

Cost: 1m; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Uniform, Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal plucks a phantasmal arrow from the memories of war that echo through the
Neverborn’s nightmares, a bolt of smoke and hatred given form.
The Abyssal can make an Archery attack without needing ammunition (including firedust). Once per
scene, she can suffuse an arrow with undying hatred, adding two non-Charm dice on the attack roll.
A second purchase of this Charm lets the Abyssal use it to reflexively reload weapons with the Slow tag.
This makes such weapons compatible with magic that creates multiple attacks as long as she reloads for
each attack.
Whispers: When the Abyssal uses this Charm to add dice on an attack roll, she can invoke her Whispers
to convert them to non-Charm successes.

Banished Bow Arsenal

Cost: 1m; Mins: Archery 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Relic Arrow Method
The Abyssal’s empty hands cannot be trusted; her weapon is always but the void’s breadth
away.
The Abyssal banishes an Archery weapon and its associated ammunition Elsewhere. She can recall them
to her hands by reflexively ending this Charm.

Exquisite Relic Bow

Cost: 5m, 1wp (+1m); Mins: Archery 4, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Relic Arrow Method
The Abyssal’s killing intent takes form as a spectral weapon, a vicious bow of night-black
Essence or a flamewand roaring with sickly green pyreflame.
The Abyssal creates an artifact Archery weapon from Essence. The type of weapon created and its exact
appearance are the same each time she uses this Charm.
The deathknight can use Relic Arrow Method’s dice-adding effect to enhance attacks made with the
summoned weapon without regard for its once-per-scene limit, although each use beyond the first incurs a
one-mote surcharge.
This Charm may be repurchased any number of times, each repurchase adding an Evocation to the
summoned weapon. These Evocations draw their themes and function from the deathknight’s personality,
Caste, and iconic anima banner.

Sun-Swallowing Voracity
Cost: 4m; Mins: Archery 4, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual, Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Splinter of the Void
The Abyssal’s arrow shares her hunger for the world’s end, drawing in and devouring all light.
If the Abyssal’s attack hits, it extinguishes all light sources other than anima banners that her projectile
passed within short range of while in flight. Mundane light sources are snuffed out, while magical lights
return once the scene ends.
If the attack’s target has an anima banner, it’s reduced by one level if he suffers withering damage, or
resets to dim if he’s crashed. Against decisive attacks, he loses one anima for each level of damage he
suffers.
When used outside of combat, no roll is required unless the deathknight attempts a particularly difficult
shot.

Hail of Gelid Death

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Deadly Feathered Maelstrom
The Abyssal’s arrow freezes and shatters in mid-air, showering razor-sharp ice on friend and
foe alike.
The Abyssal makes a decisive attack roll against all other characters — friend or foe — within medium
range of a point within her weapon’s range. This makes it possible to attack foes beyond her weapon’s
range.
The attack has a base damage of (Perception) dice against each hit enemy, and she divides her Initiative
evenly among them. Battle groups and trivial characters aren’t included in dividing up her Initiative, but
still suffer the same damage as other foes..
If the Abyssal’s attack benefits from aiming, she may avoid harming allies instead of that action’s usual
benefit.

Splinter of the Void

Cost: 2m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Aggravated, Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Hundred Paces Bite, Relic Arrow Method
Necrotic Essence engulfs the Abyssal’s arrow, a crackling black nimbus of annihilation.
The Abyssal’s decisive attack ignores (higher of Essence or 3) points of Hardness, and rerolls 1s on the
damage roll until they cease to appear. It deals aggravated damage to living enemies.

Iron Sleet Attack

Cost: 6m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Splinter of the Void
The Abyssal’s arrow radiates unearthly cold, freezing her victim’s lifeblood from within.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after rolling 3+ successes on a decisive damage roll. She can forgo one
level of damage to prevent her target from taking his movement action this round — or next round, if he’s
already taken one. Alternatively, against an enemy who’s successfully rushed or disengaged from the
deathknight, she can deny him that action’s benefit, letting her move without provoking his reflexive
movement.

Fatal Sniper Focus

Cost: 3m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravenous Hunter’s Yearning
The Abyssal lines up a shot with a deftness and precision that puts all living flesh to shame.
The Abyssal ignores penalties from non-visual conditions on an attack roll and can attack out to extreme
range, limited only by her ability to perceive her foe. Withering attacks calculate their Accuracy bonus as
their target was at short range.

Pulse of the Prey

Cost: 1m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Fatal Sniper Focus
The Abyssal’s senses hone in on her foe’s Essence, granting accuracy to match her malice.
The Abyssal reflexively aims before making a decisive attack, and converts the dice added by aiming to
non-Charm successes.
With an Essence 5 repurchase, this Charm can be used on withering attacks against crashed enemies. It
hits and rolls damage even if the attack roll fails. She can only do so once for each crash period.
Unhesitating Violence Attitude
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Fatal Sniper Focus
Even as she withdraws, the Abyssal rains death down on her foes.
When the Abyssal successfully disengages, she may reflexively make a withering or decisive attack
against an enemy whose opposed roll she beat.

Gasp of Dead Gods

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Splinter of the Void
As the deathknight draws back her bowstring, she calls up a swirling maelstrom of wailing
phantasms that collapses into a light-eating bolt of entropic Essence.
The Abyssal makes a decisive attack against an enemy with lower Initiative. She ignores the limitations
of her weapon’s range, and can attack out to long range without needing to aim, or at extreme range with
an aim action. The attack has a base damage of (current temporary Willpower), which doesn’t include the
deathknight’s Initiative or reset it. This is doubled as long as the Abyssal meets one of the following
conditions, tripled for two conditions, or quadrupled for three or more:
• The attack benefits from aiming.
• The target is crashed.
• The target has a wound penalty of −2 or higher.
• The Abyssal is within close range of her target.
• The target has a Tie of fear that applies to the deathknight.
With a repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a three-mote, three-anima surcharge to add her Initiative to this
Charm’s damage. (It isn’t multiplied). She resets Initiative on a hit. If she kills her victim, she gains (his
Essence + 3) motes as she drinks in the last of his life’s Essence.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by crashing an enemy whose Initiative was at least ten points higher
than the Abyssal’s.

Merciless Hunter’s Hand

Cost: 7m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Unhesitating Violence Attitude
Seizing upon even the slightest moment of weakness, the Abyssal dispatches her foes with
deadly force.
When an enemy within range of the Abyssal’s weapon is crashed, she may reflexively make a decisive
attack against him.

Perfect Murder Meditation

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Pulse of the Prey
The deathknight’s murderous intensity refines her precision and focus.
The Abyssal makes a decisive attack, adding up to (higher of Essence or 3) attack roll extra successes as
dice of damage for each of the conditions below that she meets. If she meets three or more conditions, she
adds all extra successes to damage.
• The attack benefits from aiming.
• The target is crashed.
• The target has a wound penalty of −2 or higher.
• The Abyssal is within close range of her target.
• The target has a Tie of fear that applies to the deathknight.

Piercing Ghost Barb

Cost: —(+4m, 2i); Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Dual, Perilous
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodthirsty Arrow
The Abyssal’s loosed arrow becomes a wailing phantasm, passing through all obstructions to
strike true.
The Abyssal can pay a four-mote, two-Initiative surcharge when she uses Bloodthirsty Arrow to make her
projectile intangible until it strikes her foe, rendering the attack unblockable. She ignores light and heavy
cover completely, and can pierce full cover without needing to aim or have an opening to attack through..
The target’s soak and Hardness are halved against the attack, rounded down, except for any granted by
magic.
The ghost-arrow’s flight can be impeded by wards against the undead and by living plants. An enemy
wielding a just-uprooted sapling could block it, while a wall that’s had a line of salt drawn along one side
would prevent the arrow from passing through.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by landing a decisive attack that resets the Abyssal’s Initiative and
building back up to 15+ Initiative.

Rapacious Vulture Approach

Cost: 1m, 1i; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Pulse of the Prey
The deathknight’s hungry gaze sights new prey as she flits from shadow to shadow, her every
move a prelude to murder.
The Abyssal can take a move action and aim on the same turn, and can flurry an aim with a rush or
disengage.
If the Abyssal moves toward a foe and uses Pulse of the Prey against him on the same turn, she waives
that Charm’s Willpower cost.

Screaming Wraith Arrow

Cost: 6m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Perilous, Withering-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Piercing Ghost Barb
An arrow of pure malice flies from the Abyssal’s bow, and those struck by it feel their flesh,
blood, and Essence scream in torment.
The Abyssal makes a withering attack against an enemy within short range, adding her Initiative to its
raw damage. This resets her Initiative to base, though she still gains Initiative from the attack as usual.
If the Abyssal’s Initiative is at least ten higher than her target’s, the added damage is post-soak.
With Essence 4, if this crashes its target, he suffers (Abyssal’s Essence) dice of lethal decisive damage,
ignoring Hardness, as his heart seizes from fear.

Setting Sun Pursuit

Cost: 4m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Ravenous Hunter’s Yearning (x2)
A long hunt only heightens the Abyssal’s hunger for bloodshed.
The Abyssal may use this Charm after a successful tracking roll, rush, or Awareness roll opposing a
character’s Stealth. She banks a special pool of Initiative equal to her total successes on that roll,
maximum (Perception or Wits). When she Joins Battle against that enemy, she may add the pooled
Initiative to the Initiative she receives from Joining Battle.
Alternatively, when the Abyssal makes a decisive attack against that enemy, she may add the pooled
Initiative to its damage roll. She can use this to attack him while crashed, using only the Initiative from
the pool for the attack’s damage.

World-Wounding Darkness
Cost: 6m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Sun-Swallowing Voracity
The Abyssal wounds the world, revealing the terrible emptiness beyond existence.
The Abyssal makes a special decisive attack against all characters within short range of a point within her
weapon’s range., without needing to aim. The roll is difficulty 1 by default, but the Storyteller may
increase it for especially tricky shots.
If successful, the projectile pierces through reality, a void that draws in everything within close range.
Characters within short range of the projectile must roll (Stamina + Resistance) or (Dexterity + Athletics)
against the Abyssal’s attack roll. Battle groups suffer a −4 penalty.
Those who fail this roll are pulled into close range of the void and fall prone. Affected target suffers
(Abyssal’s Essence) dice of decisive damage as the void tears flesh from bone, plus an additional die of
damage for each success by which the Abyssal’s roll beats theirs, up to a maximum of the deathknight’s
Initiative. This damage ignores Hardness and doesn’t reset the Abyssal’s Initiative.
Special activation rules: If the Abyssal uses Sun-Swallowing Voracity together with this Charm, it
extinguishes all light within medium range of where the projectile falls, as well as those it passes within
short range of.

Heart-Numbing Spike
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 4
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only, Psyche
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Gasp of Dead Gods, Screaming Wraith Arrow
As the deathknight and her alien masters have flensed away their old identities, so must her foe.
If the Abyssal deals 3+ decisive damage, her enemy loses one Willpower, plus an additional Willpower
for each 10 on the damage roll, maximum (higher of Abyssal’s Essence or 3). For each point of
Willpower he loses, one of his positive Intimacies is weakened by one step. Defining Intimacies can’t be
affected unless the damage dealt exceeded the target’s base Resolve. The Abyssal can target specific
Intimacies she’s aware of; otherwise, the Storyteller chooses. The victim may resist this by paying an
additional Willpower for each Intimacy he wishes to preserve
If this attack incapacitates the Abyssal’s victim or reduces his Willpower to zero, he loses all memories
associated with any Intimacies that are completely eroded. If someone or something reminds him of an
Intimacy, he may pay three Willpower to regain his memories of it.
Reset: Once per scene. Once the Abyssal uses this Charm against a character, he’s immune to further
uses for (his Resolve) days.

Last Days Portent

Cost: 15m, 5i, 1wp; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 5
Type: Simple
Keywords: Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: World-Wounding Darkness
The deathknight takes aim at the hated daystar, plunging the battlefield into a night broken only
by the dim constellations of the Underworld.
The Abyssal looses an arrow at the sun, rolling (Dexterity + Archery) at difficulty 5. If successful, her
projectile implodes, devouring all sunlight. This has the following effects, which last for (1 + extra
successes) hours:
• Darkness blankets the battlefield, extending out to (Essence + 3) range bands from the Abyssal’s
location when she used this Charm, inflicting a −3 penalty on vision-based rolls.
• Light sources within range are extinguished, as with Sun-Swallowing Voracity. Anima banners’
radiance is diminished, as if they were one step lower.
• The darkness counts as a shadowland, although it doesn’t open into the Underworld.
• It counts as being night for relevant effects. Using this to begin casting a ghost-summoning spell
or similar magic shortens the ritual’s duration to one hour.
In the Underworld, Malfeas, and other realms of existence, the Abyssal can snuff out the light of their
alien suns or their nearest equivalent.
When the Abyssal uses this Charm to uphold a negative Defining Intimacy or a Defining Principle based
on death’s chivalry, she may extend its range to (Essence) miles once per story.
Reset: Once per day.

Uncanny Extermination Instinct

Cost: 1m; Mins: Archery 5, Essence 5
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Perfect Murder Meditation, Rapacious Vulture Approach
The Abyssal’s killing precision has become second nature, an effortless extension of her being.
The Abyssal adds (Essence) dice of decisive damage or raw withering damage on an attack that benefits
from aiming.

Athletics
Raiton’s Nimble Perch
Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 1, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: None
The deathknight’s footwork and poise approach perfection, moving with the grace of those no
longer burdened by flesh.
The Abyssal gains perfect balance, and can stand or run on surfaces too narrow or weak to support her
normally without needing to roll.

Spider Pounce Technique

Cost: 2m (1m); Mins: Athletics 2, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal moves in impossible bounds, landing in a hunched crouch only to leap away again.
The Abyssal uses a reflexive move action to jump one range band vertically or horizontally, without
needing to roll.
If the deathknight uses this Charm on multiple consecutive turns, the cost of activations past the first is
reduced by one mote.

Earth-Forsaking Attitude
Cost: 3m (+3m per 3 range bands); Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Spider Pounce Technique
The Abyssal drifts through the air with eerie weightlessness.
The Abyssal can make a horizontal leap without needing anything to kick off against, , and can end her
movement in midair. On her next turn, she must use this Charm again to continue the leap or fall to the
ground. In addition to any horizontal motion, she descends one range band for each consecutive use of
this Charm past the first, though a stunt can circumvent this. Leaps that span multiple range bands require
a running start.
Alternatively, the Abyssal can avoid all damage from a fall. For falls greater than two range bands, she
must pay a three-mote surcharge, plus another three motes for every three range bands beyond the third.
With an Athletics 4, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a two-mote surcharge to use this Charm
without jumping, gliding eerily across the ground. She doesn’t lose elevation while gliding through mid-
air and can cross multiple range bands without needing a running start.

Falling Scythe Attack

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Earth-Forsaking Attitude
The Abyssal arcs through the air with the fatal force of a reaping scythe to cull the ranks of the
living.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she jumps into close range with an enemy and make a non-ranged
attack against him on the same turn. She adds (higher of Essence or 3) to the raw damage and
Overwhelming of a withering attack, or that many dice of decisive damage.
If the Abyssal uses Earth-Forsaking Attitude to avoid falling damage after this attack, she reduces its total
cost by two motes.

Dread Strength Discipline

Cost: 3m or 3i per dot; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Dual
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: None
A dark strength braces the Abyssal’s every muscle and tendon, letting her crush stone to
powder and rip her enemies’ heads from their shoulders.
The deathknight gains up to (lower of Essence or Strength) bonus dots of Strength, paying three motes or
three Initiative per dot. This can raise her above Strength 5. She also adds these dots on decisive damage
rolls.

Cowards Die Screaming

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Strength Discipline
Witnessing the Abyssal’s impossible might, her victims know that their time is nigh.
The Abyssal treats a successful feat of strength roll as a threaten roll against any number of characters
who witnessed it. If the feat required Strength 5+, all targets suffer −1 Resolve against this influence.
In combat, this influence costs one Initiative to resist, in addition to the usual cost.

Corpse-Might Surge
Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Strength Discipline
Exerting herself beyond the limits of what mortal flesh can endure, the Abyssal revels in unholy
strength.
The deathknight adds (Essence) dice on a feat of Strength and adds +2 to her effective Strength rating to
determine what feats she can attempt. If this raises her effective Strength over a feat’s minimum, each dot
over adds an additional bonus die.

Ruined World Armament

Cost: 4m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Dual
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: None
Steel gates and stone walls are no guarantee of safety against the deathknight; before her awful
strength, they are yet another weapon.
The Abyssal gains the following benefits when fighting with improvised weapons:
• She waives the Initiative cost to attack with them.
• They gain +1 Accuracy.
• They add +(Essence/2, rounded up) to their damage and Overwhelming.
• Medium and heavy weapons gain the Smashing tag. If they already had it, the deathknight waives
the Initiative cost and Defense penalty for making smash attacks.

Broken Mausoleum Barricade

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ruined World Armament
The deathknight topples monuments and shatters tombs to shelter herself amid their stony ruin.
The Abyssal treats a successful feat of strength roll as roll to take cover (Exalted, p. 198) — either behind
whatever object she lifted up, or the rubble left behind by a feat of demolition. The cover’s Defense bonus
is increased by +1 until her next turn. This doesn’t use her movement action.
With Athletics 5, Essence 3, the Abyssal can pay a two-Initiative surcharge when she uses this Charm to
make a feat of strength reflexively. Such feats are limited to scenery and other narratively unimportant
things, letting the deathknight lift or destroy them to provide cover.

Headstones Flung Like Pebbles

Cost: —(3m); Mins: Athletics 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Ruined World Armament
Death’s Lawgiver topples cenotaphs and monuments, casting them aside with a casual toss.
When the Abyssal makes a ranged attack with an improvised weapon, she can roll (Strength + Athletics)
and ignores penalties for objects unsuited to throwing. She can pay three motes to increase its range by
one band, maximum long, and add one die of decisive damage or post-soak withering damage for each
range band the projectile crosses.
Alternatively the Abyssal can make a ranged feat of demolition by throwing an improvised weapon,
gaining the benefits above. Instead of adding damage, each range band it crosses adds one die on the roll
if she extends the feat’s range.

Shadow Races the Light

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s wicked swiftness preys on her foe’s imperfections, winnowing away his speed.
The Abyssal she makes a rush or an opposed Athletics roll in a speed-based competition, the opposing
character’s 1s and 2s force him to reroll successes, starting with 7s and moving up.

Behemoth-Felling Approach
Cost: 2m, 2i; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Strength Discipline, Shadow Races the Light, Spider
Pounce Technique
The deathknight topples even the greatest of foes, slaying titanic beasts with bounding strikes,
superior strength, and incomparable speed.
When the Abyssal attacks a Legendary Size enemy, she adds an automatic success on the attack roll and
ignores the defensive benefits her enemy receives from his size. This doesn’t let her grapple him.
This Charm’s Initiative cost is waived and it loses the Perilous keyword against enemies the deathknight
has a negative Major or Defining Tie toward.

Blood-Curdling Swiftness
Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow Races the Light
The Abyssal lunges for her victim with inhuman speed, a gruesome nightmare too swift to
escape.
The Abyssal treats a successful rush as a threaten roll against her target. If successful, he must use his
next turn to flee the deathknight or otherwise seek safety, suffering a −3 penalty on movement actions
opposing her until that turn ends. This costs one Willpower and (Abyssal’s Essence) Initiative to resist.
With Athletics 5, Essence 3, the Abyssal can pay a one-Willpower surcharge to extend this Charm’s
influence to all enemies who witnessed the rush.

Flickering Image Strike

Cost: 3i; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Raiton’s Nimble Perch, Shadow Races the Light
The deathknight outpaces her enemy with impossible speed, surrounding him with ghostly
afterimages that seem to strike from every angle.
When the Abyssal attacks an enemy at close range whose Initiative is lower than hers (prior to paying this
Charm’s cost), she rolls (Dexterity + Athletics) opposing his (Perception + Awareness). If successful, the
attack becomes a surprise attack, imposing a −2 penalty on her victim’s Defense against the attack.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by landing a decisive attack that resets the Abyssal’s Initiative and
then rising to Initiative 6+.
Killing Field Attitude
Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow Races the Light
There is no escape from the deathknight, for anywhere she stands is a killing field for her foes.
The Abyssal can use Athletics Charms that enhance rushes on rolls opposing an enemy’s disengage.

Mist Over Ice

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Until the Exalt stops running
Prerequisite Charms: Raiton’s Nimble Perch, Shadow Races the Light
Lightening her body with Essence, the Abyssal’s tread becomes as insubstantial as a ghost’s.
While running, the Abyssal can move over unstable surfaces, even water. She never risks damaging or
breaking thin or flimsy surfaces, and isn’t affected by environmental hazards whose surface she runs over.
This Charm remains active for as long as she continues to run.
With Athletics 5, Essence 2, the Abyssal can activate this Charm with instant duration, letting her safely
pause on an unstable surface for long enough to complete a single action. However, this doesn’t grant any
protection against environmental hazards.

Crouching Gargoyle Stance

Cost: 3m; Mins: Athletics 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Mute
Duration: (Essence + 2) rounds
Prerequisite Charms: Mist Over Ice
The Abyssal draws on her unsurpassed speed and incomparable balance to move in defiance
of gravity, scuttling up walls or loping along ramparts.
The Abyssal can move up or down sheer vertical surfaces like walls or move upside down on horizontal
surfaces like ceilings. If she ends this Charm’s duration while somewhere she couldn’t normally stand and
doesn’t renew it, she falls as usual.

Nowhere Is Safe
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One hour
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow Races the Light
The Abyssal moves with the speed denied to those born of flesh — she is as a shadow, a
nightmare, a creeping dread.
The Abyssal doubles 9s on rushes and opposed Athletics rolls in speed-based competitions. When she
rushes an enemy, he loses one Initiative for each 10 she rolls. Outside of combat, she moves with
incredible speed, capable of maintaining a speed of (Dexterity x10) miles per hour over open terrain.
If the Abyssal reactivates this Charm at the end of its duration, she waives its Willpower cost.
If the Abyssal has Superior Weapon-Body (p. XX), it adds (Essence) dice on rolls enhanced by this
Charm instead of doubling 9s.

Roaring Void Lunge

Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 4, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Nowhere Is Safe
The howls of the Neverborn race behind the Abyssal like the thunder that follows a nightmare of
lightning.
When the Abyssal succeeds on a rush, her target loses two Initiative.

Death Draws Near

Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Blood-Curdling Swiftness
The Abyssal closes in on her prey with a languid ease matched only by her impossible speed.
When the Abyssal rushes an enemy, up to (Essence) of his 1s subtract successes. She also gains this
benefit on opposed Athletics rolls for races and similar tests of speed.
If the Abyssal knows Killing Field Attitude, this Charm’s benefit applies on rolls opposing disengages.

Ebon Lightning Flash

Cost: 4m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Raiton’s Nimble Perch, Shadow Races the Light
The Abyssal lunges towards and past her foe in a single perfect motion, glancing over her
shoulder to watch her victim’s corpse split in half.
To use this Charm, the Abyssal must have Initiative 6+. She can attack a lower-Initiative enemy within
medium range, instantly dashing into close range before she strikes. She doubles a withering attack’s
post-soak damage or adds (Essence) dice of damage on a decisive attack. This uses her movement action.
This Charm is incompatible with jumping, flying, and other forms of movement other than running.

Indomitable Force Unleashed

Cost: 5m; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Strength Discipline
As her flesh falters and threatens to yield, the Abyssal steels herself with unliving Essence,
erupting with terrible might.
After rolling a feat of strength, the Abyssal may use this Charm to reroll all dice that show failures.

Death’s Inevitable Grasp

Cost: 4m; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Indomitable Force Unleashed
The Abyssal’s strength is as inexorable as the doom she portends, dragging down pillars and
shattering chains.
The Abyssal adds (Strength) non-Charm dice on a feat of strength.

Shrapnel Rain Demolition

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ruined World Armament
The Abyssal crushes her foe beneath stone and shrapnel, burying him in an untimely sepulcher.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after using an improvised weapon to deal 3+ decisive damage or crash
an enemy. She destroys the weapon with the force of her blow, trapping the target beneath the debris.
He’s knocked prone and can’t take any movement actions until the obstruction is cleared with a feat of
strength or other action. The minimum difficulty of such rolls and the minimum Strength requirement for
feats is (Abyssal’s Strength).

Sky-Cleaving Wraith
Cost: 7m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Until the Abyssal stops leaping
Prerequisite Charms: Earth-Forsaking Attitude
Gathering her Essence, the Abyssal leaps to the sky with a horrible screaming sound, her
passage carving a bloody red cut through the sky.
The Abyssal can use her movement action to make a tremendous leap on her turn, jumping up to four
range bands horizontally or three range bands vertically. She can’t jump fewer than three range bands
normally, but using Spider Pounce Technique lets her make a controlled jump of two range bands. Such
leaps can’t be flurried, but the deathknight can make one reflexively on the turn she uses this Charm.
If there are any enemies within close range when the Abyssal leaps, she must make a disengage roll with
(Strength + Athletics) to do so.. If she succeeds, enemies within close range whose opposed rolls failed by
2+ successes fall prone. Trivial enemies automatically fall prone.

On Wings of Night
Cost: 10m, 1wp (2m or 2i per turn); Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Sky-Cleaving Wraith
Eerie wings unfurl from the Abyssal’s anima, beating down soundlessly to send her skyward.
The Abyssal can fly with her movement actions, letting her move vertically or horizontally through the air
and hover in place when not moving. If she uses Stepping Outside Existence while in flight to rush an
airborne foe, she waives its Willpower cost.
In combat, the Abyssal must pay two motes or two Initiative at the start of each subsequent turn.
Otherwise, this Charm ends, causing her to drift harmlessly down to the ground.
Special activation rules: The Abyssal can use this Charm reflexively at the apex of a leap made with
Sky-Cleaving Wraith, waiving its Willpower cost.

Stepping Outside Existence

Cost: 4m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Blood-Curdling Swiftness, Death Draws Near, Roaring Void
Lunge
Driven by hunger for a distant foe, the Abyssal lunges through the darkness that lies beyond the
world.
The Abyssal rushes an opponent within medium range. If successful, she instantly teleports into close
range with him without crossing the space in between, instead of a rush’s usual benefits.
While using Nowhere Is Safe, this Charm’s range becomes long.

Superior Weapon-Body
Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Corpse-Might Surge, Death Draws Near, Earth-Forsaking
Attitude (x2)
The Abyssal has honed her body to a perfection denied to the living.
The Abyssal doubles 9s on Athletics rolls.

Swifter Than a Scream

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ebon Lightning Flash
The thrill of murder urges the Abyssal onward to her next victim with incredible speed.
After incapacitating a nontrivial enemy with a decisive attack, the deathknight can move one range band
towards another nontrivial enemy. If she enters close range with him, she may reflexively make a decisive
attack against him with (Dexterity + Athletics) dice of damage.. This follow-up attack doesn’t reset her
Initiative.
If the Abyssal uses this Charm multiple times in a single tick, she waives the Willpower cost of
activations past the first.

Incarnate Doom Ascendancy

Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 4
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Corpse-Might Surge, Indomitable Force Unleashed
The Abyssal is entropy incarnate. The things of the living world are paltry flinders in her grasp.
The deathknight lowers the minimum Strength for all feats of strength by two.

Last Wind Empowerment

Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 4
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Stepping Outside Existence
Desperate to take one last step before death can claim her, the Abyssal draws on a surge of
unimaginable speed.
The Abyssal can take a second movement action on her turn this round.
Reset: Once per scene.
Mountains Become Dust
Cost: 4m; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 4
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Corpse-Might Surge, Indomitable Force Unleashed
Knowing that all things will cease to exist one day, the deathknight finds strength within herself
to hasten things to their ends.
The Abyssal adds a free full Excellency on a feat of strength and can attempt it even if its physical scale
would normally be impossible given her size and leverage. She could punch a hole through a keep’s wall
large enough to let a battle group for, or lift an entire building.
A feat of demolition can damage or destroy a portion of a large object extending one range band beyond
what she could normally accomplish. A feat of strength can lift objects she’d normally lack the leverage
to, as though her grip’s leverage extended one range band beyond what she could normally lift. Every
three extra successes extends a feat’s scale by one range band.
Reset: Once per scene unless reset by performing a difficulty 10+ feat of strength.

Light-Killing Stride
Cost: —; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 5
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Last Wind Empowerment
The Abyssal transcends speed and distance — she is the darkness that precedes light, the
death at the end of all life.
The Abyssal automatically succeeds on a rush or an opposed Athletics roll in a test of speed. On extended
actions, she counts as having rolled one more success than her opponent, if her own roll isn’t higher.
If multiple characters use an effect like this Charm, such as Solars’ Living Wind Approach, each receives
a result of one success more than the highest number of successes on any one roll.
Reset: Once per scene.

Titan’s Last Labor

Cost: 1m, 1wp; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 5
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Incarnate Doom Ascendancy
Cast down into darkness and reborn to end the world, the Abyssal draws forth infinite strength
to scar Creation with her legend.
The Abyssal doubles 7s on a feat of strength and ignores its minimum Strength requirement.

Temple-Shattering Ruination Curse

Cost: 10m, 1wp, 3a; Mins: Athletics 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Mountains Become Dust, Titan’s Last Labor
The deathknight lays low mighty temples and palaces, making their rubble monuments to her
might.
The Abyssal can activate this Charm after destroying a structure with a difficulty 10+ feat of demolition.
The structure’s ruins and the land out to one mile from them are cursed:
• The cursed land counts as a shadowland until the end of the story or until the Abyssal uses this
Charm again. It doesn’t open into the Underworld. If the deathknight uses this Charm in the Underworld
or a shadowland, the ruins instead draw specters and other undead afflicted with Whispers to it.
• A Defining Blight (p. XX) chosen by the Abyssal afflicts the land, lasting until at least the end of
the current story.
• The first time someone sees the ruins, he’s instilled with a fear-based Intimacy if the feat’s
successes exceed his Resolve. The Abyssal chooses the Intimacy upon using this Charm. For instance, a
ruined Immaculate temple might spread a Principle that the Immaculate Order is powerless against the
dead. Mortals and Essence 1 ghosts must spend three Willpower to resist this influence, while trivial
characters are automatically affected and can’t resist with Willpower.
• If the feat upholds a negative Defining Intimacy, the ruins permanently become a lesser Abyssal
demesne. If the feat accomplished a legendary social goal, it forms a greater demesne.
Reset: Once per story.

Awareness
Awful Clarity Insight
Cost: 5m; Mins: Awareness 2, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: None
Death has sharpened the Abyssal’s senses, lending her perception inhuman clarity.
The Abyssal doubles 9s on Awareness rolls.

Abyssal Awareness vs. Multiple Foes

When the Abyssal uses the Awareness Excellency, she can pay a two-mote
surcharge to extend its duration until her next turn, providing its bonus to all
Awareness rolls she makes to detect hidden enemies. A number of Charms also
specify that their duration can be extended this way. The Abyssal need only pay
the two-mote surcharge once to extend the duration of all valid Charms she
activates at the same time, including the Excellency.

Ominous Portent Method

Cost: —; Mins: Awareness 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Awful Clarity Insight
The Abyssal has a sixth sense for danger, eerily prescient in matters of life and death.
When the Abyssal makes an Awareness roll to detect a hidden enemy or other danger, she gains one mote
for each 9 she rolls and two motes for each 10. This can’t exceed the number of motes spent enhancing
the roll.
Additionally, the Abyssal can make Awareness rolls while asleep, unconscious, or incapacitated,
suffering no penalties for doing so. She may awaken instantly upon successfully detecting a threat, or
even revive herself from unconsciousness if incapacitated, though she still suffers the effects of
incapacitation.

Superior (Sense) Focus

Cost: 3m or 6m, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: One scene or Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Awful Clarity Insight
Death opens the Abyssal’s senses to drink in the richness of the world she must slay.
Upon learning this Charm, the Abyssal’s player chooses one of the following sets of sense: vision,
hearing and touch, or smell and taste. While using this Charm, the Abyssal gains the following benefits
with the chosen senses:
• She adds two dice on (Perception + Awareness) rolls using an enhanced sense, or two successes
on unopposed rolls. The Storyteller is encouraged to give her wide leeway in stunting incredible feats,
albeit potentially at high difficulties: counting a mass of soldiers at a glance, hearing at frequencies below
human range, “reading” a tapestry by touch alone, etc.
• She increases the range at which she can make out small detail with the enhanced sense: 300 feet
for vision or hearing, or (Essence x600) feet for scent. This range is increased for larger details, at the
Storyteller’s discretion.
• She ignores up to one point of penalty on rolls with any Ability caused by external conditions that
impede the enhanced sense, aiding in feats like seeing in total darkness, listening through stone walls, or
scenting old trails.
• With a stunt, she can use specialties in other Abilities on Awareness rolls using the enhanced
sense
This Charm lasts one scene for three motes or indefinitely for six motes, one Willpower.
The Abyssal can repurchase this Charm to select an additional set of senses. She must pay this Charm’s
cost separately for each set she enhances, but can enhance multiple sets of senses with a single activation.

Countless Grasping Phantoms

Cost: 3m; Mins: Awareness 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Superior Hearing and Touch Focus
A spectral chill radiates from the Abyssal, a spiritual emanation of her sense of touch that rimes
the world with her icy fingerprints.
Grasping spectral limbs hang in the air around the Abyssal out to short range, with the following effects:
• The Abyssal’s sense of touch extends through these phantoms, letting her make touch-based
Awareness rolls within this range without physical contact. She can use Charms that enhance her sense of
touch on any Awareness rolls made in this range.
• When a hidden enemy within this range moves and rolls (Dexterity + Stealth) to maintain
concealment, he suffers a −2 penalty from the grasping phantoms.
• When she Joins Battle, she adds three non-Charm dice as she’s aware of at least one concealed
enemy in the scene.
If the Abyssal knows Inhuman Perfection of Hearing and Touch, this Charm’s range extends to medium,
and she can determine the size, shape, and velocity of anything that moves through this range without
needing to roll.

Void Stares Back

Cost: —; Mins: Awareness 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Superior Sight Focus
No mere darkness dares hinder Death’s Lawgiver.
The Abyssal ignores penalties from poor lighting and darkness on vision-based Awareness rolls with any
Ability.
While using Superior Sight Focus, when the deathknight Joins Battle while in poor lighting, she adds
bonus dice equal to the penalty these conditions inflict on other characters’ rolls.

Bloodshed Beckons
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Superior (Sense) Focus (x2)
Her senses honed to a razor’s edge, the deathknight is attuned to the flow of violence.
The Abyssal adds (Perception + Awareness) dice on a Join Battle roll. For each 10, she rerolls one failed
die, starting with 1s and moving up.
For each failed die that’s rerolled into a successful one, the Abyssal banks one automatic success. For the
rest of the scene, she can add these banked successes on any Awareness rolls she makes opposing an
enemy’s Stealth.

Discerning Barghest Vigil

Cost: —; Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Superior Smell and Taste Focus
The Abyssal’s predatory focus discerns subtle scents that linger like the shallow breaths of the
slow-dying.
The Abyssal’s sense of smell lets her reflexively discern how many people are present within the same
room or similar space as her, or within medium range in combat. This includes characters who’re hidden
from her, potentially revealing that an enemy is hidden somewhere within range.
For each character within this Charm’s range, the Abyssal can discern what general category of being
they are: a human, an animal, a spirit, a zombie, etc. If she detects the scent of someone she’s encountered
within the last day or had extensive past experience with, she identifies him automatically.
With Awareness 5, Essence 3, the Abyssal can always detect dematerialized characters by scent.

Morbid Inspiration Witness

Cost: 5m; Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Awful Clarity Insight
The deathknight finds apocalyptic insights in the setting of the sun, the entrails of slaughtered
beasts, and the death rattles of her victims.
The Abyssal rolls ([Intelligence or Perception]) + Awareness with (Essence) successes as she finds
inspiration in the morbid, the eerie, or the darkly beautiful: an albatross dropping dead in flight, three
black cats crossing the same street in sequence, lightning striking a distant temple. She banks her
successes and gains a Major Principle representing a creative goal inspired by it: the wings of a dying
butterfly might inspire her to create a flying monstrosity, while the eerie light of the sun setting on a
shadowland might inspire a work of oracular poetry. She can’t voluntarily erode this Intimacy, and it
can’t be weakened below Minor as long as she has any banked successes remaining.
The Abyssal can add up to (Essence) banked successes on Craft, Linguistics, Occult, and Performance
rolls related to her creative goal. They count as a non-Charm bonus, except on extended rolls. Medicine
rolls involved in creating or altering undead can also be enhanced. These rolls need not directly contribute
toward the Abyssal’s goal — a deathknight obsessed with building a butterfly-winged horror could add
successes on a Linguistics roll to boast of her plans in a letter to a rival.
Upon fulfilling her goal, the Abyssal loses her Principle. If she has any banked successes remaining, she
rolls twice that many dice and gains motes equal to her successes, as well as one Willpower for each ten.
If she ends this Charm before completing her goal, she loses one Willpower and can’t use this Charm
again for the rest of the session.
Whispers: When the Abyssal adds banked successes on a roll, she may invoke her Whispers to add an
additional (higher of Essence or 3) non-Charm dice. She can’t do so on extended actions/

Shadow-Eating Spirit
Cost: 3m; Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Superior (Sense) Focus
Even the bravest must strain to meet the depthless pits of the Abyssal’s eyes.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after an Awareness roll opposing another character’s Larceny or Stealth.
Up to (Essence) of his 1s subtract successes when determining if he beats the Abyssal’s roll. This doesn’t
affect other characters’ opposed rolls.
Special activation rules: This Charm’s duration can be extended as per the Awareness Excellency.

Fervent Caprice Focus

Cost: —(+1m, 1wp); Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Morbid Inspiration Witness
Driven by obsession, the Abyssal discovers dark truths beyond mortal ken.
The Abyssal can pay a one-mote, one-Willpower surcharge when she uses Morbid Inspiration Witness to
heighten her obsession, letting her spend banked successes on the following effects. She must use them in
a way that advances her creative goal or directly relates to it.
1 success: Add one mote toward the cost of a Craft, Linguistics, Medicine, Occult, or Performance
Charm.
2 successes: When the Abyssal creates an undead or completes a Craft project, she may reveal a small but
useful quirk in her creation: a zombie’s teeth have been capped with iron, a daiklave’s pommel houses a
useful storage compartment, the antidote she brewed is highly flammable, etc..
3 successes: Add (higher of Essence or 5) silver craft points or (Essence) gold points toward the cost of a
Craft project or Craft Charm.
3 successes: Challenge or introduce a fact using one of the Abyssal’s Crafts or a specialty in Craft,
Linguistics, Medicine, Occult or Performance as a Lore background.
5 successes: Add one Willpower toward the cost of a Craft, Linguistics, Medicine, Occult, or
Performance Charm.
5 successes: Waive the Willpower cost of resisting influence that opposes the Abyssal’s Principle from
Morbid Inspiration Witness.

Shroud-Piercing Clarity
Cost: —; Mins: Awareness 4, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow-Eating Spirit
Who can escape the Abyssal’s notice? Her awareness is the inevitability of the grave.
The Abyssal reduces the cost of Shadow-Eating Spirit by one mote, and is no longer limited in how many
1s she can penalize the opposing character for.
If the Abyssal has purchased Superior (Sense) Focus twice, the opposing character’s 2s also subtract
successes.
If the Abyssal has all three purchases of Superior (Sense) Focus, the opposing character’s 1s subtract two
successes instead of one.

Ghostly Sentinel Technique

Cost: 3m per wraith, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Countless Grasping Phantoms
Wraiths of smoke and spectral metal emerge from the deathknight’s outstretched hand, cast off
to be her roving eyes.
The Abyssal can create up to (Essence) wraiths, paying three motes each. The wraiths acts as an extension
of her perception, allowing her to make Awareness rolls based on any sense as though she were in a
wraith’s position. Additionally, she can ignore penalties on non-Awareness action from darkness, mist, or
other sensory impediments if at least one wraith would not suffer them from its vantage. If Countless
Grasping Phantoms is active, that Charm’s spectral sense of touch is also conveyed through the wraiths,
extending its effect to encompass characters within short range of any wraith as well as the Abyssal.
The wraiths appear within close range of the Abyssal. On each of her turns, she can reflexively move a
single wraith one range band, or use her movement action to reflexively move each wraith one range
band. As dematerialized entities, they are capable of passing through walls and similar material
obstructions. They can’t move beyond long range from her.
The wraiths are immaterial. Against magic capable of attacking dematerialized targets, they have Evasion
(Abyssal’s Perception), and can be destroyed with a difficulty 3 gambit. They can’t be targeted by normal
withering or decisive attacks. If the Abyssal conceals herself with a Stealth roll, the wraiths also receive
the benefits of her roll against enemies capable of perceiving dematerialized targets.
The Abyssal may purchase the following upgrades for her wraiths for three experience points or one
bonus point each:
Dauntless: The difficulty of gambits to destroy the wraiths increases to (Abyssal’s Essence + 3,
maximum 6).
Eager: The cost of creating wraiths past the first is reduced by two motes.
Enduring: The Charm’s duration is extended to one day.
Far-Roving: The wraiths’ maximum range increases to (Perception + Essence) range bands.
Haunting: Rather than creating a stationary wraith, the Abyssal can create one that ceaselessly pursues an
individual she can see, manifesting within close range of him and following him unfailingly out to its
normal range limits.
Insightful: The Abyssal can make profile character and read intentions rolls through her wraiths.
Legion: The maximum number of wraiths is increased to (Perception + Essence).
The player may work with the Storyteller to create new upgrades.

Pulsing Veins Focus

Cost: 3m; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Discerning Barghest Vigil
The Abyssal always recognizes the scent of her prey.
When the Abyssal makes an Awareness roll against a living character, she adds successes equal to his
wound penalty. If she succeeds on a roll opposing a living enemy’s Stealth in combat, she gains one
Initiative as her hunger mounts.
Special activation rules: This Charm’s duration can be extended as per the Awareness Excellency.

Shadow-Slaying Impulse
Cost: 1m, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bloodshed Beckons, Ominous Portent Method, Shadow-
Eating Spirit
The deathknight deprives her foes of the shadows’ safety, forcing them into the open.
The Abyssal reflexively makes a decisive attack against a concealed enemy that she’s aware of. If she
hits, her enemy is driven from his current hiding spot to a new one, and must roll (Dexterity + Stealth) to
maintain his concealment as usual. He can reflexively move one range band if necessary to do so, but this
uses his movement action for the round. If there aren’t any other hiding spots he can reach, his
concealment is broken automatically.
Inhuman Perfection of (Sense)
Cost: —; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Superior (Sense) Focus
The Abyssal’s unwavering focus casts aside the frailty of mortal limitation.
This Charm upgrades Superior (Sense) Focus, and must be purchased separately for each set of senses.
While using Superior (Sense) Focus to enhance the chosen set of senses, the deathknight gains addition
benefits:
• The range at which she can make out fine sensory detail is further extended: one mile for vision
or hearing, or (Essence/2, rounded up) miles for scent.
• Instead of reducing sensory penalties by one, she halves them, rounded down.
• When she makes a (Perception + Awareness) roll using an enhanced sense, she reduces the cost
of any instant-duration Awareness Charms she uses to enhance it by one mote each. If all five of her
senses currently benefit from this Charm, she gains this discount on all Awareness rolls, including Join
Battle.
• While using Awful Clarity Insight, she rerolls 6s until they cease to appear on Awareness rolls
using the enhanced sense.

All-Seeing Overlord’s Lair

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Ghostly Sentinel Technique, Inhuman Perfection of (Sense)
(x2)
The deathknight knows all within her dread domain, watching from every shadow.
The Abyssal extends her senses throughout a stronghold she’s claimed for herself — an attuned manse,
her Stygian manor, a fortress occupied by her army, etc. She gains the following benefits:
• She can perceive everywhere within the structure at once, unimpeded by its walls or similar
obstructions. She must still make Awareness rolls as usual to focus on details, adding (Essence) non-
Charm successes on such rolls.
• For particularly dramatic and noticeable things — a bonfire anima, a warstrider on the march, a
bellowing tyrant lizard — the Abyssal can perceive them as long as they’re within (Essence) miles of her
lair, or (Essence x5) miles while using the applicable Inhuman Perfection of (Sense).
• Enemies within range of the Abyssal’s senses can’t make unexpected attacks against her, even if
she failed to beat their Stealth roll.
• Ghost Sentinel Technique’s range is extended to encompass the entirety of her lair. If she has the
Far-Ranging Upgrade, they can travel up to (Essence) miles from it.
This Charm ends if the Abyssal leaves her stronghold.
With Essence 4, the Abyssal can use this Charm in shadowlands or the Underworld, without needing
control over them. This extends her senses out to one mile, treating that area as her citadel, but her
perception can’t cross a shadowland’s boundaries into Creation.

Unyielding Phantom Fixation

Cost: 1wp; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Shroud-Piercing Clarity
Transcending the limits of mortal perception, the Abyssal bears witness to the world’s bleak
truths .
The Abyssal can use this Charm after an Awareness roll to reroll all dice. She can activate additional
Charms to enhance the reroll.

None Deceive Death

Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 4
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One tick
Prerequisite Charms: Inhuman Perfection of (Sense) (x2)
The living crave pleasant illusions, closing their eyes to the world’s sorrow, but the deathknight
faces truth unblinkered and undaunted.
The Abyssal experiences a moment of heightened awareness out to long range. She sees through the
concealment of any hidden enemies within range, and likewise perfectly sees through disguises — even
shapeshifting. Invisibility, magical silence, and the like are no impediment to her senses, and she can see
through all forms of sensory illusion or other magic that distorts or impairs the senses, including
Sidereals’ resplendent destinies.
While using Inhuman Perfection of (Sense), this Charm’s range extends an additional (Essence) bands of
extreme range for the enhanced sense.
Unrelenting Obsession Genius
Cost: —(+4m); Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 4
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Fervent Caprice Focus
Turning her gaze inward, the Abyssal glimpses feverish impossibilities of her own invention.
The Abyssal can pay an additional four-mote surcharge when she uses Fervent Caprice Focus, making the
Intimacy she gains an Obsession (Exalted, p. 169). She spend banked successes on the following effects
as long as it’s related to her goal:
4 successes: Add one white point toward the cost of a Craft project or Craft Charm.
5 or 7 successes: Use a Craft, Linguistics, Medicine, Occult, or Performance Charm that’s currently
“down” without needing to reset it. This costs seven successes for Charms that can only be used once per
story and five successes for other Charms.
7 successes: Waive the cost of a Craft, Linguistics, Medicine, Occult, or Performance Charm with instant
duration.
7 successes: Temporarily gain a Craft, Linguistics, Medicine, Occult, or Performance Charm for Morbid
Inspiration Witness’ duration. The Abyssal must meet its prerequisites, and can only use it for purposes of
her goal.
Reset: Once per session, the Abyssal can invoke her Whispers to roll (Whispers) dice, banking her
successes.

Piercing Gaze of the Unmaker

Cost: 10m, 1wp (+10m); Mins: Awareness 5, Essence 4
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: All-Seeing Overlord’s Lair
The Abyssal’s perception transcends the prison of the world, casting her gaze upon all that she
must one day destroy.
The Abyssal casts her perception out from afar. She may choose a specific location — a manse, a small
village, a city district — within (Essence x5) miles, letting her observe it as with All-Seeing Overlord’s
Lair. This doesn’t let her perceive anything beyond the observed area’s boundaries.
Alternatively, the Abyssal can choose an individual, object, or other specific thing, like “my nemesis,
Panther,” “my daiklave,” or “the intruders in my lair.” If a qualifying target is within (Essence) miles, she
can observe its immediate surroundings. If there are multiple targets that fit the Abyssal’s description, she
can pay a ten-mote surcharge to observe up to (Essence + Perception) of them. She can only observe one
at a time, requiring a miscellaneous action to switch between viewpoints.
Anyone observed with this Charm feels a faint unease, as if being watched by something malevolent. If
the Abyssal seeks out a specific individual, she can heighten this, letting her make a (Manipulation +
Awareness) threaten roll against him. This Charm’s range is doubled while using All-Seeing Overlord’s
Lair, or while all five of the Abyssal’s senses are currently enhanced with Inhuman Perfection of (Sense).
With an Essence 5 repurchase, the Abyssal can pay twenty-mote, one-Willpower surcharge to waive this
Charm’s range limit once per story. She can even peer even into other realms of existence.
Reset: If the Abyssal fails an Awareness roll against a target of her observations, she can’t use this Charm
against him again for the rest of the session.

Brawl
Brutish Violence Exercise
Cost: —; Mins: Brawl 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Uniform, Versatile
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal overwhelms her foe’s defense with sheer force, sending him reeling back.
The Abyssal can use Strength instead of Dexterity on unarmed attacks and attacks with heavy weapons.
Such rolls don’t benefit from effects that grant bonus Strength dots, double successes on Strength rolls, or
replace her Strength with a higher value.

Killing Fist Technique

Cost: —(1m); Mins: Brawl 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s violent endeavors have honed and hardened her fists.
The Abyssal’s unarmed attacks can deal lethal damage, and she can parry attacks that deal lethal damage
bare-handed. For one mote, an unarmed withering attack ignores (Essence) soak. If she has an Intimacy
relevant to her motivation for fighting, she ignores (Essence + Intimacy) soak.

Dead Man’s Grasp

Cost: 1m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Death’s Lawgiver seizes her enemies with a grip like rigor mortis.
The Abyssal adds an automatic success on a grapple attack roll and (higher of Essence or 3) dice on the
Initiative roll.

Inescapable Iron Grip

Cost: 2m per round of control; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dead Man’s Grasp
Bracing her limbs with the tenacity of the unliving, the deathknight tightens her grasp.
When the Abyssal would lose rounds of clinch control from being attacked or damaged, she can prevent
this by paying two motes per round of control she preserved. She can use this Charm after the attack and
damage rolls.

Terminal Velocity Approach

Cost: 5m; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dead Man’s Grasp
The deathknight grants her enemy the mercy of a swift release from her grasp, sending him to
meet his end.
When the Abyssal throws a grappled enemy, she can hurl him out to short range, and adds an additional
+2 dice of raw damage for each round of control she expends. If she uses this Charm after grappling an
enemy with Titan-Murdering Grasp (p. XX), she can throw even Legendary Size enemies.
With Essence 3, the Abyssal can expend two rounds of control to extend the throw’s range to medium,
inflicting damage as a short-range fall (Exalted, p. 232). These rounds of control don’t add to the throw’s
damage. Alternatively, she can expend four rounds of control to throw her enemy to long range, inflicting
damage as a medium-range fall.

Owl Seizes Mouse

Cost: 3m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
A blur of killing speed, the deathknight rips into her enemies before they can do anything but
scream.
The Abyssal can use this Charm at the beginning of a round to immediately take her turn, regardless of
Initiative order. She must use it to attack an enemy at short range, reflexively moving one range band
toward him. She can use any combat Ability to attack. This doesn’t use her movement action for the
round.
With Brawl 5, Essence 3, the Abyssal can pay a one-Willpower surcharge to steal (Essence, maximum 5)
Initiative from her target, which she gains, before making the attack.
Reset: This Charm can only be used against an enemy once per scene unless reset against him by
crashing him.

Ravaging Torment Blow

Cost: 1m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal preys on her maimed foe’s weakness, striking at already-broken bones and digging
her fingers into open wounds.
The Abyssal adds dice equal to her target’s wound penalty on the raw damage of a withering or decisive
attack. If his wound penalty is increased above its base value, only (Essence) extra points count toward
this.
While using Dark Messiah’s Wrath, (higher of Essence or Strength) points of extra wound penalties count
toward the Abyssal’s damage.

Agony Crucible Strike

Cost: 1m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
The Abyssal strikes with cruel precision, inflicting as much pain as possible.
If the Abyssal deals 5+ withering damage or any decisive damage with an attack, her victim’s wound
penalty increases by one until the end of his next turn.

Blood-Drinking Palm
Cost: 2i; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only, Versatile
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Agony Crucible Strike or any three Martial Arts Charms
Bloodying her fists against countless foes, the Abyssal feasts on crimson bounty.
When the Abyssal deals damage with a decisive attack, she steals (enemy’s wound penalty + 1) motes
after damage has been applied, maximum (Dexterity, Stamina, or Strength). If she incapacitates her
victim, she steals (his Essence + 3) additional motes, which don’t count toward this limit.
Against grappled enemies, the Abyssal can use this Charm to make a savaging attack by baring fangs and
drinking their blood. She deals lethal damage, and can steal motes equal to her rounds of grapple control
if that’s higher.

Dark Messiah’s Wrath

Cost: 5m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
The deathknight’s calm and restraint conceal a roiling core of rage, ceaselessly gnawing at its
fetters as it strains to break free.
The Abyssal abandons all restraint, entering a berserk fury:
• She adds dice equal to her wound penalty to the post-soak damage of withering attacks and the
damage of decisive attacks, maximum (Strength).
• She treats any Intimacies relevant to her motivation for fighting as one step stronger. Those that
are already Defining instead provide a +5 Resolve bonus or −4 Resolve penalty.
• She suffers −1 Defense, which can’t be negated.
• She can’t withdraw, use social influence for purposes unrelated to combat, or cease fighting until
all enemies are incapacitated or have fled. She’s still capable of tactical thinking and intelligent decision.
Ending this Charm prematurely crashes the Abyssal, setting her to Initiative –3 (if not already lower).

Scream-Rousing Sermon
Cost: —; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Dark Messiah’s Wrath
Even in the depths of murderous rage, the Abyssal preaches her bleak gospel with bloodied
fists and thunderous words.
Dark Messiah’s Wrath no longer prevents the Abyssal from making influence rolls unrelated to combat so
long as they inspire despair, sorrow, or other negative emotions, instill Principles that she holds or
negative Ties, or leverage such emotions or Intimacies with persuade actions.
While using Dark Messiah’s Wrath, the Abyssal gains +1 Resolve and adds dice equal to her wound
penalty on any influence rolls she makes, maximum (highest social Attribute). Any enemy whose Resolve
is beaten by an influence roll loses one Initiative.

Lashing Tempest Palm

Cost: 7m; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
The Abyssal’s blow unleashes a maelstrom of spiritual pressure, sending her victim flying.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after making a decisive damage roll. As long as she rolls at least one
success, her enemy is knocked prone and loses one Initiative, which she gains after resetting to base. With
more successes, she can strike with even greater force:
• With 3+ success, she can knock her victim into an object or surface within close range to inflict
damage per a short-range fall (Exalted, p. 232), destroying flimsy objects like thin wooden walls.
• With 4+ successes, she can strike him into an object or surface at close range with enough force
to inflict damage per a medium-range fall and leave cracks in thick stone walls, or knock him to short
range, inflicting damage per a short-range fall.
• With 5+ successes, she can knock an enemy to short range and inflict damage per a medium-
range fall.
With Essence 3, the Abyssal doubles her successes on the damage roll for the purpose of determining how
far she can fling her enemies. With 7+ successes, she can knock an enemy out to medium range and
inflict damage per a medium-range fall.

Playing With Broken Prey

Cost: 3m; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
Try as he might to defeat the deathknight, her foe’s grievous injuries take their toll.
When an enemy with lower Initiative attacks the Abyssal, she adds his wound penalty to her Parry or
Evasion, maximum (Dexterity). If the attack misses, it doesn’t inflict an onslaught penalty.

Pain Beyond Endurance

Cost: 4m, 1i, 1wp; Mins: Brawl 3, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Withering-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
Striking without regard for anything but breaking her victim, the deathknight floods his mind with
pain.
The Abyssal makes a withering attack, adding an automatic success on the attack roll and (Essence) raw
damage. It ignores soak, except the natural soak from an enemy’s Stamina. She doesn’t gain Initiative
from this attack — instead, for every two Initiative she’d gain, her enemy’s wound penalty increases by
−1 until the start of his next turn.
With an Essence 3 repurchase, the Abyssal gains Initiative from the attack as usual.

Embrace of the Grave

Cost: 4m; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dead Man’s Grasp
The Abyssal’s deadly embrace is as inescapable as the mortal coil.
After succeeding on a grapple gambit’s attack roll, the Abyssal can use this Charm to add her attack roll
extra successes as bonus dice on the control roll.

Rending Entropy Strike

Cost: 4m, 1m per die; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ravaging Torment Blow
Entropic Essence and apocalyptic fury fuel the deathknight’s savage strike.
After a successful attack roll, the Abyssal can use this Charm to add attack roll extra successes as dice of
damage, paying one mote per die.

Screaming Victim Demolition

Cost: 5m; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Lashing Tempest Palm
The Abyssal shakes the pillars of Creation until they shatter, burying her foes beneath rubble
and corpses.
The Abyssal makes a reflexive feat of demolition with a forceful blow, adding (Strength) automatic
successes. She can spend Initiative instead of motes on the Athletics Excellency or other Athletics
Charms she uses on the roll. If successful, the Abyssal completes the feat with a single strike, even if it
would normally require an extended period of time. If she fails, she can’t retry that feat until her next
round.
Alternatively, the Abyssal can use this Charm after knocking an enemy back with Lashing Tempest Palm
or throwing him with Terminal Velocity Approach, treating the falling damage roll as a feat of demolition
to destroy whatever her enemy collides with. (The automatic levels of damage inflicted for falling count
as automatic successes on the roll). If successful, her victim suffers (feat’s minimum Strength/2, rounded
up) additional dice of decisive damage, ignoring Hardness.

Sinner-Flaying Remonstration
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Brawl 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Clash, Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Owl Seizes Mouse
The Abyssal’s murderous instincts respond to the slightest provocation with brutal speed,
lunging to strike her foe before he can touch her.
The Abyssal reflexively clashes an attack with a decisive attack.
A Brawl 5, Essence 3 repurchase reduces this Charm’s cost to four motes if the Abyssal’s wound penalty
and her victim’s wound penalty have a combined total of −4 or higher.

Hundred-Handed Onslaught
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Sinner-Flaying Remonstration
The Abyssal’s fists swing with blinding speed, hammering her enemy with blow after blow.
The Abyssal makes ([Stamina or Strength/ 2, rounded up] + 1) decisive attacks against a single enemy,
dividing her Initiative evenly among all attacks, rounded up. Each 10 that appears on the damage roll of
these attacks adds one die to the damage rolls of all subsequent attacks made as part of this Charm.
A Brawl 5, Essence 3 repurchase increases the number of attacks the Abyssal can make to ([higher of
Stamina or Strength] + 1), and adds additional damage dice: +1 die on the first attack, +2 on the second,
and so on.

Illustrative Overkill Technique

Cost: 5m; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Agony Crucible Strike
The deathknight cows her foes with grotesque feats of ecstatic violence.
When the Abyssal’s decisive attack incapacitates a nontrivial opponent, she can use this Charm to make a
(Strength + Brawl) threaten roll, adding any excess levels of damage beyond her enemy’s remaining
health levels as non-Charm successes. Resisting this influence costs one Willpower and Initiative equal to
the Abyssal’s extra successes over the target’s Resolve. If the slain enemy was especially powerful, like
an Exalt, this influence costs an additional Willpower to resist. The same is true if the Abyssal’s attack
caused narratively significant destruction, like destroying a landmark with Screaming Victim Demolition.
Alternatively, the Abyssal can use this Charm on her turn to reflexively kill a trivial opponent within her
weapon’s range. She makes a threaten roll, but doesn’t receive any of the benefits above. This doesn’t
count as her attack for the round, but she can only do so once per turn.

Unmatched Cruelty Approach

Cost: —; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Versatile, Withering-only
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Dark Messiah’s Wrath
The Abyssal takes grim satisfaction in her enemies’ despair.
When the Abyssal crashes an enemy with a withering attack, she gains an additional (Essence, maximum
5) Initiative.

Violence Begets Violence

Cost: 4m, 1i; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Counterattack, Withering-only, Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Playing With Wounded Prey
Every move made against the deathknight is a step toward one’s own grave.
After an enemy deals enough damage with a withering attack to reduce the Abyssal’s Initiative below
his, she can use this Charm to make a withering counterattack. She doesn’t gain Initiative from its
damage roll.
Alternatively, the deathknight can defend against grapples, using this Charm after an enemy’s control roll.
His 1s subtract successes. If the Abyssal beats his roll, she takes control of the grapple rather than merely
escaping it.
With an Essence 4 repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a one-Willpower surcharge when she uses this
Charm to make a counterattack, letting her gain Initiative normally from the damage roll.
Reset: Once per round unless reset by recovering from Initiative Crash

Entropic Scourge Annihilation

Cost: 8m, 1wp; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Withering-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Pain Beyond Endurance (x2)
Wreathing her fists in a corona of annihilating Essence, the deathknight tears through all
resistance.
The Abyssal’s withering attack is unsoakable and doubles 9s on its damage roll.
Reset: Once per scene unless reset by landing a decisive attack with Initiative 20+.

Explosive Gore Eulogy

Cost: —(+1wp); Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Illustrative Overkill Technique
Having concluded her bloody sermon, Death’s Lawgiver casts what remains of her victim back
into her allies’ arms.
When the Abyssal uses Illustrative Overkill Technique after incapacitating a nontrivial enemy, she may
pay a one-Willpower surcharge to make a decisive attack with her victim’s corpse, slamming or flinging
it at an enemy within close range. Her Initiative doesn’t reset from the attack that triggered Illustrative
Overkill Technique. The attack benefits from any Charms used on the initial attack, assuming they’re
compatible, and the Abyssal can use additional Charms to benefit it.
If the Abyssal knows Terminal Velocity Approach, this Charm’s range extends to short. She can increase
it further by expending excess levels of damage, instead of adding them as successes on her threaten roll.
Forgoing one level extends it to medium, while three levels extends it to long.
While using Dark Messiah’s Wrath, the Abyssal waives this Charm’s Willpower surcharge.
Reset: Once per round

Foe-Fed Abattoir
Cost: 2m; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Unmatched Cruelty Approach
Screams and desperate cries for mercy only stoke the Abyssal’s hunger for violence.
When the Abyssal’s Initiative is reset by succeeding on a decisive attack, she can use this Charm to add
+2 to the base Initiative she resets to.

Five Knife Fist

Cost: 4m; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Killing Fist Technique, Ravaging Torment Blow
Jagged spikes of dark Essence burst from the Abyssal fingertips, rending through bone and
steel.
The Abyssal adds +(Strength) Overwhelming on an unarmed withering attack. On a decisive unarmed
attack, she instead doubles 10s on the damage roll and rolls an additional die of damage for each damage
roll 10.
A repurchase of this Charm lets the Abyssal use it as a Simple Charm for five motes, one Willpower,
extending its duration to one scene. Alternatively, she can invoke this version reflexively for two motes,
one Willpower after damaging an enemy with the Supplemental version of this Charm.

Grievous Agony Attack

Cost: 3m; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Agony Crucible Strike, Pain Beyond Endurance, Rending
Entropy Strike
With cruel abandon and monstrous force, the Abyssal shatters her enemy’s bones.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after a decisive damage roll, letting her forgo levels of damage to inflict
one of the crippling effects below. She must deal at least one level of damage. Against grappled enemies,
she can expend two rounds of grapple control in place of one level of damage.
Arm-Wrenching Twist (2 levels): The victim loses the use of one arm, dropping anything held in that
hand and suffering a −3 penalty on actions that require both hands.
Foe-Blinding Jab (2 levels): The victim is blinded, suffering a −3 penalty on rolls that depend on vision.
Skull-Ringing Strike (2 levels): The victim is dazed and concussed, losing (Abyssal’s Strength)
Initiative. He suffers a −3 penalty to all mental and social rolls and a −1 penalty on physical rolls.
Leg-Hobbling Blow (3 levels): The victim falls prone as the Abyssal wounds his leg. He suffers a −3
penalty on movement actions and treats all terrain as difficult terrain.
Characters with Exalted Healing recover from these effects after a day’s rest. Mortals require medical
treatment.
With Essence 5, the amount of damage that the Abyssal must forgo for each effect is reduced by one.

Titan-Murdering Grasp
Cost: 3m; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Embrace of the Grave
No giant is beyond death.
The Abyssal adds (Essence) automatic successes on a grapple attack roll, and her enemy’s 1s on the
control roll subtract successes. For the duration of the grapple, she adds (Essence) dice of damage on
savaging attacks. If she knows Blood-Drinking Palm, its Initiative cost is reduced by one.
The Abyssal can use this Charm to grapple enemies with Legendary Size, though she can’t drag, restrain,
throw, or slam them without an appropriate stunt.

Life-Annihilating Castigation
Cost: 7m, 3i, 1wp; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 4
Type: Simple
Keywords: Aggravated, Perilous, Withering-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Entropic Scourge Annihilation
Soul-destroying pyreflame swirls like an inferno around the Abyssal, revealing the awful depths
of her wrath.
The Abyssal makes a withering attack, multiplying her post-soak damage by her (opponent’s base wound
penalty + 1) and rerolling 1s on the damage roll.
If the deathknight crashes her opponent, pyreflame erupts from within him, inflicting (Abyssal’s Strength)
dice of aggravated decisive damage, ignoring Hardness and rerolling 1s until they cease to appear. Each
10 on the withering damage roll adds another die of decisive damage — and if the Abyssal used Entropic
Scourge, so do 9s. An opponent killed with this attack is burned away to nothing, leaving no ghost or
even ashes.
Reset: Once per scene unless reset by incapacitating an especially powerful enemy, like an Exalt.

Manifold Murder Arts

Cost: —; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 4
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Foe-Fed Abattoir Meditation
Exulting in rage and bloodlust, the Abyssal becomes an unstoppable force of violence.
The Abyssal invokes a free full Brawl Excellency.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by landing a decisive attack that resets the deathknight’s Initiative
and then reaching Initiative 12+.

Void Avatar Embodiment

Cost: 15m, 1wp, 3a; Mins: Brawl 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Aggravated, Clash, Dual
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Manifold Murder Arts, Sinner-Flaying Remonstration
Apocalyptic darkness envelops the deathknight, leaving her a howling void of violence, a
shadow cast against the world.
The Abyssal gain the following benefits:
• Her unarmed attacks are limned with the annihilating darkness of the void. They count as artifact
weapons when used with Brawl, deal aggravated damage, and ignore Hardness.
• Enemies with Ties of fear toward her suffer a –(Intimacy) penalty on attack rolls against her.
• Once per round, she can pay one Willpower or five Initiative to clash an attack made against her
with a special (Stamina + Brawl) decisive attack. If she wins the clash against an enemy at close range, he
suffers (Abyssal’s Essence + attack roll extra successes) dice of aggravated damage, ignoring Hardness.
This doesn’t include the Abyssal’s Initiative or reset it. Against ranged attacks, winning the clash
provides no benefit beyond blocking the attack.
• She can’t be reduced below Initiative 1 by attacks made from beyond close range.
• When using magic that provides increased benefits based on how high her wound penalty is, her
overflowing necrotic Essence lets her count as having a −5 base wound penalty when it’s advantageous to
her.
Special activation rules: If the Abyssal uses Dark Messiah’s Wrath together with this Charm, she waives
that Charm’s cost and doesn’t suffer its Defense penalty.

Bureaucracy
Calculated Avarice Understanding
Cost: —; Mins: Bureaucracy 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Experienced in unscrupulous dealings, the Abyssal cheats others while ensuring none ever
dupe her.
The Abyssal gains the following benefits.
• She adds (Essence) automatic successes on rolls with any Ability to appraise the condition of
goods or recognize their value in a given market.
• She adds an automatic success on read intentions rolls against prospective buyers or sellers
seeking to transact with her.
• She gains +1 Resolve against bargain rolls and similar influence.
• She gains +1 Guile against effects that would reveal her dishonesty in mercantile dealings, such
as misrepresenting the value of goods being sold.

Serpent Knows Its Own

Cost: 3m; Mins: Bureaucracy 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Calculated Avarice Understanding
Death’s Lawgiver knows the worth of all things, whether measured in silver, grain, or blood.
The Abyssal makes a special ([Perception or Wits] + Bureaucracy) read intentions roll against someone
seeking to buy from her or otherwise deal with her in a mercantile context. Success reveals his Resources
rating and whether he intends to cheat or exploit her in their deal. If he does, she adds (Essence) Resolve
against all bargain rolls that character makes in that scene.
Alternatively, if the Abyssal can’t tell if someone is interested in buying her wares or otherwise engaging
in trade with her, she can use this Charm to discern both his intent and his Resources rating.

Wicked Bargain Mastery

Cost: 3m; Mins: Bureaucracy 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Calculated Avarice Understanding
Having bartered her name and soul away for immortality, Death’s Lawgiver is no stranger to
hard bargains.
When the Abyssal makes a bargain roll with Presence or Socialize, she adds (Bureaucracy) dice and
rerolls 6s until they cease to appear.

Subtle Functionary Ways

Cost: —; Mins: Bureaucracy 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Death’s Lawgiver conceals truth behind lies and knowledge in ignorance, employing subtle
nuances of tone, body language, and professional jargon to shape assumptions.
The Abyssal may reflexively invoke one of the following attitudes. Each can be leveraged with social
influence as though it were a Minor Intimacy.
Corruption: Any character who desires or intends to have dealings with a corrupt official will perceive
the Abyssal as dishonest, dissolute, and open to bribes in whatever position of authority she may hold,
ensuring she will be sought out by those looking to make backroom deals, solicit abuses of her power, or
otherwise circumvent the law. Characters attempting to uncover or investigate corruption never
experience this assumption, even if they seek to deal with corrupt officials as part of their investigation.
Honesty: The Abyssal appears utterly incorruptible in whatever position of authority she may hold.
Investigators and auditors are inclined to pass her over when rooting out corruption or abuses of power,
and those in need of help that only an honest official can provide will assume that she can aid them.
Expertise: The Abyssal affects the bearing of a professional, well-versed in matters of bureaucracy,
finance, and trade, and will be sought out by those in need of such help.
Incompetence: The Abyssal comes across as a newcomer or an incompetent in mercantile or bureaucratic
concerns — a perfect dupe for dishonest swindlers, predatory lenders, or savvy legal professionals.
Only one attitude can be active at a time, but the Abyssal can change between them reflexively.

Traitor-Extirpating Instinct
Cost: 5m; Mins: Bureaucracy 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Subtle Functionary Ways
The deathknight judges a soul’s worthiness to serve.
The Abyssal makes a (Perception + Bureaucracy) read intentions rolls against a member of an
organization, adding (Essence) automatic successes. Success reveals the strongest Tie he holds towards it.
She succeeds automatically against characters who don’t use magic to resist or who have less temporary
Willpower than her.
With a Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3 repurchase, the Abyssal can use this Charm to discern Ties towards
organizations she belongs to, rather than her target. She only succeeds automatically against characters
whose permanent Willpower is lower than her own, even if they don’t use magic.

Eloquent Example Inspiration

Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One investigation
Prerequisite Charms: Traitor-Extirpating Instinct
Blood and fear grease the wheels of bureaucracy, leading inexorably toward the truth.
The Abyssal begins an investigation into an organization by making a demonstration out of one of its
members, publicly punishing him for some offense, real or fabricated. She doesn’t need any authority
within an organization to investigate it, so long as the group’s leadership approves her punishment —
either in advance, or by giving it their imprimatur after the fact.
The Abyssal adds five automatic successes on Investigation and Socialize rolls made in the course of the
investigation. When she deals with organization members in the course of the investigation, their fear
encourages honesty. This counts as a Minor Tie of obedient fear toward her. If their Resolve (including
modifiers from Intimacies) is lower than the Abyssal’s (Charisma or Manipulation), this counts as a
Major Tie instead.
This terror is all the greater if the Abyssal initiates her investigation with a fatal punishment. The Tie is
imposed in all interactions, not just those related to the investigation, and organization members suffer −2
Resolve when determining its intensity.

Efficacious Hierarchy of the Damned

Cost: 8m; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One task
Prerequisite Charms: Subtle Functionary Ways
Death’s Lawgiver brings order to the Underworld with unmatched efficiency, bypassing
millennia-old backlogs or obstruction from timeless ghost-ministers.
The Abyssal significantly accelerates the rate at which an organization can complete a task: tasks that
would take a century or less are completed in a season, those that would take a season are completed in a
month, those that would take a month are completed in a week, those that would take a week are
completed in a day, those that would take a day are completed in minutes, and those that would take less
than a day are completed practically instantly. At the Storyteller’s discretion, this may represent the
project having been initiated in advance, rather than ludicrous speed.
This doesn’t speed physical labor carried out by the organization’s members, but rather affects planning,
authorization, allocation of resources, and similar bureaucratic tasks. The Abyssal must interact with the
organization to use this Charm, but need not lead it — soliciting the task or aiding the organization with it
is sufficient.
With Essence 2, the time needed to complete a task is instead reduced by (Essence) degrees — for
example, if obtaining a loan from a ghostly trade consortium would normally take a month, an Essence 2
Abyssal could obtain it in a day, an Essence 3 Abyssal could obtain it within minutes, and an Essence 4
Abyssal could obtain it almost instantly.

Principles of Misrule
Cost: 2m; Mins: Bureaucracy 2, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal is well-versed in the failings of the living and dead alike, citing their vices with
ministerial scorn.
The Abyssal can use Bureaucracy specialties as Lore backgrounds to challenge or introduce facts,
substituting Bureaucracy for Lore when she does. She doesn’t need a specialty for facts closely related to
her backstory or experiences, like the markets of a merchant prince’s homeland.
The Abyssal doubles 9s if the fact involves corruption, deceptive business practices, or other bureaucratic
wrongdoing, or if it involves the Underworld or the undead. She doubles 8s if it involves both.

Bottomless Hoard Unearthed

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Wicked Bargain Mastery
Clothed in finery befitting a prince of the dead, the deathknight wields her wealth as a weapon.
When the Abyssal openly flaunts her wealth as part of an influence roll with any Ability, she adds (her
Resources – target’s Resources) non-Charm dice. She can always leverage her evident wealth as part of
the action as though it were a Minor Intimacy. She also gains these benefits on threaten rolls that involve
threats of financial repercussions.
If the Abyssal makes a significant financial expenditure in relation to a social event, like throwing a lavish
masquerade or spending extravagantly on her wardrobe for a gala, this Charm’s duration is extended for
the entirety of the event, and she doesn’t subtract her target’s Resources from her own do determine how
many dice she adds. The Resources expended should equal the highest Resources rating possessed by any
of her guests, minimum Resources 3.

Due to the Dead

Cost: 4m; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bottomless Hoard Unearthed
Debts to Death’s Lawgiver weigh heavy on the soul.
When the Abyssal makes an instill, persuade, or threaten roll with Presence or Socialize, she can leverage
debts that a target owes to her or an organization she represents as if they were Intimacies. A debt’s
effective intensity depends on what it would take to pay off, either with a Resources expenditure
(Exalted, p. 578) or by performing a task (Exalted, p. 216).
Minor: An expenditure lower than the target’s Resources rating, or an inconvenient task.
Major: An expenditure up to one dot higher than the target’s Resources rating, or a serious task.
Defining: An expenditure at least two dots higher than the target’s Resources rating, or a life-changing
task.
The debt need not be real or legitimate, but the character must believe he owes it.
Reset: This Charm can only be used against a character once per scene.

Accursed Overlord Authority

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Efficacious Hierarchy of the Damned, Traitor-Extirpating
Instinct
The Abyssal rules with an iron fist, shaping her subordinates to her vision of the world.
The Abyssal expresses one of her Major or Defining Intimacies through her leadership of an organization,
requiring her to spend a scene engaged with that an organization in a way that supports the Intimacy.
Examples include making a dramatic speech to her followers, promulgating a set of rules, or employing
Eloquent Example Inspiration. All organization members who witness this or hear of it from others
intuitively realize the Abyssal’s Intimacy.
This has the following effects:
• All organization members who are aware of the Abyssal’s Intimacy gain its benefits as if they had
it themselves, but it can’t be leveraged against them with social influence. A character who violates the
Intimacy loses this benefit.
• The Abyssal adds (Essence) dice on influence rolls against group members that align with the
Intimacy.
• The Abyssal adds (Essence) on Awareness, Investigation, and Socialize rolls against group
members to uncover violations of the Intimacy.
If the Abyssal chooses a negative Tie, a positive Tie whose object is dead or undead, or a Principle that
expresses a positive view on death, the added dice are non-Charm and this Charm’s cost is reduced by
two motes.
The Abyssal can stack this Charm to affect multiple organizations, and can use it up to (Essence) times on
each organization.
With a Bureaucracy 5, Essence 4 repurchase, the Abyssal can pay a seven-mote surcharge to actually
impose the Intimacy on organization members, rather than only granting its benefits. Characters with
positive Defining Ties to the Abyssal when she uses this Charm can’t voluntarily erode the imposed
Intimacy. If such a character has the imposed Intimacy at Defining intensity, they can treat any influence
it opposes as unacceptable. Resisting this influence requires spending three Willpower for day over
(Abyssal’s Essence) different days, after which a character can begin weakening the Tie. The Abyssal can
only have one such enhanced use of Accursed Overlord Authority at a time.

Cunning Subversion Style

Cost: 5m; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Subtle Functionary Ways
Mustering the forces of decay and despondency, Death’s Lawgiver consigns her rivals’
aspirations to the grave.
The Abyssal slows the interval of time necessary to complete a project or bureaucratic task by (Essence)
steps: from days to weeks, weeks to months, months to seasons, or seasons to years. This doesn’t slow
physical labor, but the project is plagued by misfortune; plans go awry, workers are wracked by paranoia
and dark rumors keep volunteers away. Trivial characters involved in the venture sometimes die under
mysterious circumstances, leaving their ghosts to haunt the organization.
The deathknight need not interact directly with the task, nor need she be aware that it’s happening; the
ruthless efficiency of her leadership is sufficient to bring ruin to any challenge. She doesn’t learn whether
such a task is underway. If there isn’t, this Charm’s curse lingers, falling upon the first such task that
begins during its duration.
Up to (Essence) different projects can be simultaneously delayed by stacking this Charm.

Grave Imposition
Cost: 6m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Serpent Knows Its Own, Wicked Bargain Mastery
The deathknight brooks no argument or vacillation, pinning down each point of negotiation with
frightening efficiency.
The Abyssal doubles 7s on a bargain roll with Presence or Socialize. If her target resists with Willpower,
she gains one Willpower.

Shade-Summoning Conscription
Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Efficacious Hierarchy of the Damned, Principles of Misrule
The Abyssal’s shadowy network of underlings and catspaws draws the wicked and the damned
into her service.
The Abyssal rolls ([Charisma, Intelligence, or Manipulation] + Bureaucracy), doubling 9s. Every two
successes let her immediately gain one dot of Followers or Retainers. The characters these Merits
represent are recruited into the Abyssal’s organization. She can specify her requirements of the characters
she recruits in detail; if any recruits that match her description exist to be recruited, her agents will find
them.
At the end of the story, the Merits are lost as the recruited characters move on from the organization,
unless the Storyteller deems that the Abyssal’s treatment of them qualifies to retain them long-term as
Story Merits (Exalted, p. 158).
With Essence 3, the Abyssal can also use this Charm to gain Allies, Contacts, Cult, and Mentors.
Reset: Once per story unless reset by accomplishing a legendary social goal.

Hateful Scorn Panopticon

Cost: —; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Accursed Overlord Authority
Like blood seeping into the earth, the deathknight’s malevolence suffuses her organization.
When the Abyssal uses Accursed Overlord Authority with a negative Tie toward an individual, she may
proclaim that individual an enemy of the organization. She senses whenever an organization member
encounters her enemy, discerning the location of the encounter and the approximate distance and
direction there. This doesn’t reveal the nature of the encounter or the identity of the group members
involved.
With Essence 4, the Abyssal can use this with negative Ties toward groups, letting her sense when one of
her organization’s members encounters someone acting in their official capacity within the enemy group.

Regime-Toppling Whisper
Cost: 13m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Cunning Subversion Style
The Abyssal’s words eat away at organizations like acid, sowing discord with rumors and lies.
The Abyssal rolls ([Charisma or Manipulation] + Bureaucracy) to sabotage a project or other bureaucratic
task she’s aware of, as her player retroactively describes a whisper campaign or similar effort she’s
previously mounted against the project’s leader. That character opposes the deathknight’s roll with
whatever (Attribute + Ability) pool is most appropriate to the targeted project.
If the Abyssal succeeds, the sabotaged project will suffer at least (Essence) botches over its duration.
Each extra success she rolls adds an additional (Essence) botches. Such botches typically result in
breakdowns of communication within the organization, failing morale among project members, and
strained relationships between the project’s leader and others within the organization, if they aren’t
already the case.
Reset: This Charm can’t be used on an organization more than once per story.

Shadow Chancery Enterprise

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: One project
Prerequisite Charms: Cunning Subversion Style
The deathknight’s secret plans come to fruition, unseen in the darkness.
The Abyssal initiates a bureaucratic project or task in complete secrecy. Investigation or Bureaucracy
rolls to investigate the project while it’s ongoing automatically and read intentions rolls that would reveal
details of it fail automatically unless the investigator uses magic to enhance them or has a relevant
Defining Intimacy. Even then, they suffer a −4 penalty, and 1s on the roll subtract successes. Characters
must always roll to notice details about the project, even if no roll would normally be required, like
overhearing workers discussing it, must be rolled at a difficulty 1.
These benefits extend to the completed project until it is revealed through use. The work itself may be
evident, but its goal is obscured; during a project to raise a profane monument in a city square, the
ongoing construction can be perceived, but what is being built is magically obscured until it is completed.

Rotting Palace Proclamation

Cost: —(+5m, 1wp); Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Shade-Summoning Conscription (x2), Shadow Chancery
Enterprise
Death’s Lawgiver instills decay into the bones of an institution as she drains the life from it.
The Abyssal can pay a five-mote, one-Willpower surcharge when she uses Shade-Summoning
Conscription to reveal that she’s embedded a traitor, informer, or spy in a rival organization. Her double
agent’s position is established by spending successes from her roll on dots of Backing and Influence for
him, which cost only one success each.
At the Storyteller’s discretion, the Abyssal’s player can declare that an existing character has been her
double agent, rather than recruiting a new character.

Unsleeping Wickedness Industry

Cost: —; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Rotting Palace Proclamation
Unmatched in her foreplanning, the Abyssal relies on her servants to fulfill her will at the
moment when it matters most.
As the Abyssal spends a scene tending to the business of an organization she leads or otherwise engaging
with the group, her player retroactively reveals that an organization led by her has completed a project
off-scene (Exalted, 226). As usual, the project must be feasible to the organization’s nature and
resources. For example, a trade consortium could corner a market, organize a caravan with a mercenary
escort, or arrange a large loan, but would struggle to revise laws, repair a city’s walls, or raise a militia.
Reset: Once per story.

Soul-Dominating Debt
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute, Psyche
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Due to the Dead
On the occasions that she can be moved to largesse, the deathknight demands repayment with
interest.
The Abyssal makes a ([Charisma or Manipulation] + Bureaucracy) bargain roll with (Essence) automatic
successes against a single character to demand repayment of a debt to her or an organization she belongs
to. If the Abyssal succeeds, the weight of the debt is magnified in her victim’s mind, driving him to repay
it as soon as possible — even if he doesn’t actually owe it.
For debts that must be paid in money or goods, he’ll provide an amount representing a Resources
expenditure that’s one dot higher than what he owes (Exalted, p. 578). If he must perform a service to
repay the debt, this counts as a persuade roll to convince him to do so, reducing the level of Intimacy
needed to support the Abyssal’s demand by one (Exalted, p. 216). The Abyssal can demand repayment
for debts that aren’t actually owed, but no more than a one-dot Resource expenditure or an inconvenient
task. If he dies before repaying the debt, he lingers as a ghost, still bound by this Charm’s influence.
Resisting this influence costs (Abyssal’s Essence) Willpower. Doing so renders a character immune to
this Charm for one week.
This Charm is more effective against characters whose permanent Willpower is equal or less than
(Abyssal’s Essence). She doesn’t need to roll against them and they can’t resist with Willpower. Such
characters will give whatever she asks to repay the debt, even pledging to serve the Abyssal for the rest of
their lives — and beyond. Whether or not the debt actually exists is irrelevant.

Iron Tyrant Reign

Cost: —(+12m, 1wp); Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 5
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Accursed Overlord Authority, Unsleeping Wickedness
Industry
Death’s Lawgiver enacts an unquestionable decree, suffusing her dread authority, with the
weight of the Old Laws.
When the Abyssal enacts a law, rule, or regulation, she can pay an twelve-mote, one-Willpower surcharge
to use Accursed Overlord Authority, imbuing it with one of her Defining Principles. It affects all who
read or hear the law and are subject to its authority, though it doesn’t affect characters outside of whatever
territory that rule applies to. It also affects any mindless undead in that locale. The Abyssal doesn’t have
to proclaim the law by her own authority — as long as she’s involved in its enactment, she can use this
Charm.
While the Charm is active, any written codification of the law within will bleed through any covering
placed over it. The words outlast even physical destruction — if a carved stone stele is shattered, the
Abyssal’s edict lingers in the very air.
The Abyssal can only have one such enhanced use of Accursed Overlord Authority at a time. This Charm
isn’t compatible with Hateful Scorn Panopticon or Suffer No Betrayal.

Suffer No Betrayal
Cost: —; Mins: Bureaucracy 5, Essence 5
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Accursed Overlord Authority, Hateful Scorn Panopticon
Transgressors against death’s law must be brought to justice.
Hateful Scorn Panopticon alerts the Abyssal when an organization member acts against an Intimacy
imposed by Accursed Overlord Authority or witnesses someone else doing so. (This isn’t limited to
negative Ties).
If the transgressor is a member of the organization, the Abyssal can reflexively use Accursed Overlord
Authority to impose a Defining Tie of vengeful hatred toward him on that organization, instantly forming
one herself. She waives its Willpower cost against mortals and Essence 1 ghosts.

Craft
Entropic Crucible Understanding
Cost: —; Mins: Craft 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The deathknight’s legend of blood and destruction inspires her to feats of dark genius and fatal
design.
The Abyssal gains craft points as though she’d completed a basic project (Exalted, p. 240) when she:
• Upholds death’s chivalry (p. XX) either by using something she’s created or through her intellect.
• Obtains valuable raw materials or components for one of her Crafts.
• Successfully introduces a fact related to one of her Crafts or challenges such a fact.
• Succeeds on a Medicine roll while using equipment or medicine she created.

Apocalyptic Fervor Renewal

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Entropic Crucible Understanding
Sworn to the world’s destruction, the Abyssal hastens its final day with her dark creations.
The Abyssal gains additional craft points for fulfilling basic objectives (Exalted, p. 240) in certain ways,
adding “advanced” objectives to them:
• If her project causes another character to gain or strengthen a Tie toward her, she gains extra
points if it’s a negative Tie or a positive Tie of awe, desire, or obsession.
• If she gains something beneficial from completing the project, she gains extra craft points, she
gains extra points if that reward will aid her in serving death’s chivalry.
• If the project supports one of her Intimacies, she gains extra points if that Intimacy is a negative
Tie, a positive Tie to one of the dead, or a Principle involving death.
Each advanced objective the Abyssal fulfills grants two silver points for a basic project or one gold point
for others, in addition to a project’s usual rewards.
This Charm is compatible with effects like Entropic Crucible Understanding that let the Abyssal receive
project awards from non-Craft actions.

Perfection of Bleak Design

Cost: 6m; Mins: Craft 1, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Envisioning every flaw that might mar her handwork, the Abyssal flenses them from her design.
The Abyssal rerolls 6s on a Craft roll until they cease to appear.
With a Craft 3 repurchase, the Abyssal also rerolls 5s until they cease to appear.

Void Demiurge’s Art

Cost: 6m; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Perfection of Bleak Design
The Abyssal’s eerie genius demands expression in works worthy of her prowess.
The deathknight doubles 9s on a Craft roll. She can’t use this Charm on rolls for superior and legendary
projects.
With a Craft 5, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal can use this Charm on superior projects. She may pay a
surcharge of one Willpower and one gold point to double 8s.
With Craft 5, Essence 3, a third purchase lets the Abyssal use this Charm on legendary projects. She may
pay a surcharge of one white point to double 7s. (She doesn’t need to pay the previous repurchase’s
surcharge).

Thousand Lifetimes Expertise

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s prowess exceeds that of artisans fettered by mortal lifespans, a master of
countless crafts.
When the Abyssal learns this Charm, each dot she has in a Craft Ability grants her an additional dot that
she may place in another Craft Ability with a lower or equal rating. Likewise, each Craft dot the Abyssal
purchases with experience grants another dot that can be assigned to a Craft with an equal or lower rating.

Charnel Workshop Mastery

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
No scrap of carrion or splinter of bone is beneath the Abyssal artisan’s notice, imbuing her work
with deathly power.
The Abyssal excels in making use of the dead as raw materials: forging armor from iron mixed with bone-
coal, tanning a beast’s hide for a cloak, tempering a freshly-made daiklave by using it to execute a living
prisoner, etc. So long as such materials form an essential component of a project, she only needs two
extra successes to trigger an increased Craft reward on basic and major projects (Exalted, pp. 240-241).
A project can only benefit from one slain character, and a character’s remains can only enhance one
project.
Additionally, when the Abyssal uses a nontrivial character’s remains for a major project, the cost for her
first roll is reduced by (victim’s Essence) silver points. If she killed him herself, it’s reduced by
(applicable Craft) points, if that’s higher.
With Craft 5, Essence 3, the Abyssal can enhance superior projects using the remains of supernatural
beings. She reduces the first roll’s gold point cost by (victim’s Essence/2, rounded up). She doesn’t halve
her victim’s Essence if she killed him herself. Creating soulsteel artifacts always qualifies for this benefit,
treating soulforged ghosts as Essence 1 unless they’ve already been established as characters.

Frenzied Forge Within

Cost: 6m; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal works like a woman possessed, shaping molten iron with her bare hands and
forging masterpieces in a single, sleepless night.
The Abyssal undertakes a basic or major project without needing tools or a workshop, and completes it
with incredible speed. Most can be finished in seconds or minutes if she has all the necessary materials.
The most arduous, work-intensive projects can be completed in an hour if basic or a day if major.
With a Craft 5, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal can pay a four-mote, one Willpower surcharge to use
this Charm on a superior or legendary project. Such uses aren’t Mute. Such projects are typically
completed within (6 – Essence) weeks, though five-dot artifacts and N/A artifacts take that many months
instead. Manses instead divide the time necessary to complete them by (Essence, minimum 2), rounded
up.

Ceaseless Wicked Toil

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Frenzied Forge Within
The Abyssal’s hands are never idle, leaving her prepared for every contingency.
The Abyssal reveals that she’s previously created a mundane object and has it on her, rolling (Wits +
Craft) at a difficulty of the object’s Resources rating. She must have a Craft appropriate to the object, and
the object must be something she could have feasibly kept hidden on her.
On a successful roll, the revealed item counts as exceptional equipment (Exalted, p. 580). The Abyssal
gains craft points as though she’d completed a basic project (Exalted, p. 240), even if the object would
normally require a major project.
On failure, the Abyssal still produces the object, but it suffers a flaw determined by the Storyteller: a −1
penalty on all uses, falling apart at end of scene, etc. She doesn’t gain craft points.
Special activation rules: The Abyssal can use Magnificent Cenotaph Allure or Five-Fold Malice Curse
when she uses this Charm to confer their effects on the revealed object. These Charms use the result of
Ceaseless Wicked Toil’s roll instead of their own.
Reset: Once per scene.

Futile Labor’s Reward

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Apocalyptic Fervor Renewal, Charnel Workshop Mastery,
Frenzied Forge Within
Even in a doomed world, the Abyssal’s genius will endure until the moment of the end.
Upon learning this Charm, the Abyssal rolls (Intelligence + highest Craft) with a free full Excellency. She
gains silver points equal to her successes, and a gold point for each 10.
At the end of each story in which the Abyssal actively used Craft, she repeats this roll.
Magnificent Cenotaph Allure
Cost: 1m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal artist creates works of haunting passion and heartbreaking beauty.
Upon completing a Craft project to create a painting, sculpture, or similar work of art, the Abyssal imbues
it with emotion, rolling a ([Charisma or Manipulation] + Craft) inspire roll. A character viewing the
object for the first time is exposed to this influence. Ghosts are especially susceptible to such powerful
passions, suffering −1 Resolve against the Abyssal’s art. Alternatively, she can convey an instill roll to
create either a positive Tie or a Tie of fear toward herself or to the undead in general. The embedded
influence lingers for (Essence) weeks after this Charm ends.
The Abyssal can use this Charm on up to (Essence) objects at a time.
With a Craft 4, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal may use this Charm on anything she crafts, as long as
she incorporates artistic or ornamental elements into it.

Empty Heart Aesthetics

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Magnificent Cenotaph Allure
The Abyssal’s artistry lays bare the futility of mortal striving and the fleeting transience of joy.
When the Abyssal uses Magnificent Cenotaph Allure, she can convey an instill roll to weaken certain
positive Intimacies. She can target either positive Ties to a specific object, like “the Realm,” or positive
Principles related to a certain subject, like “positive outlooks on life.” The Storyteller should be flexible in
applying this — for instance, if the Abyssal targets positive Ties to the Realm, her influence could also
undermine positive Ties to the Scarlet Dynasty. Some viewers may be unaffected if they lack sufficient
context — a portrait depicting a prince’s famed defeat in battle would mean little to someone who’s never
heard of him. Affected characters can’t use the weakened Intimacy to strengthen their Resolve or in
Decision Points until they’ve recovered Willpower from resting.

The Anvil Screams

Cost: 4m, 4s/g/wxp; Mins: Craft 3, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Perfection of Bleak Design
The Abyssal pushes her craft to its very limit, drawing dark inspiration from past horrors.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after a roll for a major, superior, or legendary project, adding a non-
Charm success and rolls (Essence) non-Charm dice.
This Charm’s craft point cost depends on the kind of project enhanced: silver points for major, gold for
superior, or white for legendary.
With Essence 3, the dice bonus increases to (Intelligence + Essence).

Compatibility Check
Charms like The Anvil Screams that specifically enhance Craft rolls for projects
can’t be used with other Craft rolls, like Magnificent Cenotaph Allure’s influence
roll.

Empty Mind Enlightenment

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 4, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Void Demiurge’s Art
Emptying her mind of distraction, Death’s Lawgiver unleashes subconscious nightmares to
guide her craft.
When the Abyssal uses Perfection of Bleak Design on a major, superior, or legendary project, she adds a
non-Charm success for each failed die that’s rerolled into a success.
If a rerolled die shows a 10, or a number that the Abyssal’s doubled with Void Demiurge’s Art, she adds
an additional non-Charm success.

Dread Miracle Forging

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Futile Labor’s Reward
The Abyssal forges horrors the likes of which Creation has never seen, plumbing untold depths
of forbidden artifice.
The Abyssal permanently gains a superior project slot (Exalted, p. 241).
This Charm can be purchased up to (Essence) times.

Inspiring Darkness Reverie

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dread Miracle Forging, Thousand Lifetimes Expertise
Night brings renewed inspiration for the Abyssal, whether in the beauty of a quiet world or the
vivid terror of her nightmares.
Each night, at the stroke of midnight, the Abyssal gains (Essence + 2) silver points and one gold point for
each Craft she has at 5. She doesn’t gain this bonus during downtime.

Five-Fold Malice Curse

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Apocalyptic Fervor Toil
Death’s Lawgiver weaves deathly curses into her works; woe betide those who receive her gifts.
When the Abyssal completes a major or greater project, she can curse her creation. She chooses a trigger
for the curse from the list below:
• Upon giving the cursed object to someone, she can give them either a duty or a prohibition related
to that object or the terms of that deal. It can’t be greater than a serious task. If the target fails to perform
the duty or violates the prohibition, willfully or otherwise, the curse falls upon him.
• The Abyssal may choose one of her own Major or Defining Intimacies. She can’t choose a
positive Tie to the living, except for her Lunar mate. The curse is triggered if the object’s bearer acts in a
way that opposes that Intimacy.
• The Abyssal may have the curse trigger when the object’s bearer does anything intended to harm
or inconvenience her.
Once per scene, when the trigger condition is met, the curse falls upon the target. The Abyssal rolls
(higher of Essence or 3) dice, as if undergoing Bleak Expiation (p. XX), using her successes to inflict
Blights or Stigmata on the curse’s victim. She adds an automatic success if it required a superior project,
or two successes for a legendary project, It doesn’t trigger if the target doesn’t have the cursed object on
his person, or if he’s outside a cursed structure.
This Charm can be stacked to curse up to (Abyssal’s Essence) creations.
With Essence 3, the Abyssal may pay two white points to make a curse permanent. It no longer requires a
mote commitment and doesn’t count against her maximum number of cursed creations.

Malicious Mechanism Mastery

Cost: 3m, 3i, 1wp; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ceaseless Wicked Toil
The deathknight greets her enemies with an unseen arsenal, laying traps of exquisite cruelty in
anticipation of her foes’ folly.
The Abyssal reveals that an enemy within medium range has stumbled into one of her trapsm a one-time
environmental hazard with difficulty (relevant Craft). If the Abyssal uses this Charm against an enemy
within short range of a corpse, she adds +2 to the hazard’s difficulty.
Damaging traps have Damage (Essence)L, plus an additional die for each success the target failed by. .
Snares, pit traps, and the like instead inflicts the effects of being grappled on an enemy who fails his roll,
with one round of control plus an additional round for each success he failed by. The Abyssal can’t take
the usual special grapple actions, but doesn’t suffer any penalties. A trapped character or his ally can
spend their entire turn to reduce the clinch’s rounds of control by two. Attacking or damaging the Lunar
doesn’t subtract rounds of control.
If the Abyssal has a relevant Craft, she gains three silver points if her target fails his roll. If a damaging
trap incapacitates a nontrivial enemy or a snared nontrivial enemy surrenders or is incapacitated, she gains
additional gold points equal to his Essence.

Vision-Wracked Creator’s Fugue

Cost: 6m; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Entropic Crucible Understanding
Descending into her soul’s dark depths, the Abyssal harnesses wild genius and unfettered
imagination with iron will.
After five minutes in meditation or sleep, the Abyssal may exchange craft points of one type for another.
She may exchange silver points for gold points or gold points for white points at a rate of two to one, or
white points to gold points or gold points to silver points at a rate of one to two. Each activation only
allows her to convert one type of craft points.

Barrow-Mound Stockpile
Cost: —(+7m); Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Ceaseless Wicked Toil
Prolific in her dark craft, the Abyssal artisan is rarely found empty-handed.
When the Abyssal uses Ceaseless Wicked Toil while facing a significant challenge, she can pay a seven-
mote surcharge to reveal more dramatic contingency and preparation, as long as it could be completed
with a single major project (Exalted, p. 239-240). Examples include a strategic cache of ammunition, a
canoe concealed by a lakeside, a lavish banquet awaiting unexpected visitors, etc.
If this preparation’s larger than the Abyssal could carry on her person, her player declares a nearby
location where it’s stashed. She can’t reveal something that would solve the challenge outright.
If successful, the Abyssal is awarded as per a major project. If she fails, she still receives the rewards of a
basic project with the flawed item.
Reset: Once per session.

Drawn to Death’s Beauty

Cost: —(+4m); Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Psyche
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Apocalyptic Fervor Renewal, Empty Heart Aesthetics
Who can look away from death? The Abyssal’s works draw in those who gaze on them like
moths to folly’s candle.
The Abyssal can pay a four-mote surcharge when she uses Magnificent Cenotaph Allure to imbue her art
with death’s mesmerizing allure. Characters affected by Magnificent Cenotaph Allure’s influence are also
compelled to approach and claimher work. This fascination can be exploited as though it were a Defining
Intimacy. They suffer a −3 penalty on Perception and Awareness rolls to notice anything else.
Affected characters will face risks equivalent to a serious task (Exalted, p. 216) to approach or claim the
Abyssal’s creation, but won’t take actions that would obviously physically harm them. If no safe path
exists, they’ll stop and observe from where they are. In combat, they must use their movement action each
turn to approach it.
This costs three Willpower to resist, separate from resisting Magnificent Cenotaph Allure’s influence.
This effect fades immediately when Magnificent Cenotaph Allure ends. The Abyssal can only enhance a
single use of that Charm with Drawn to Death’s Beauty at a time.

Fallen Age’s Requiem

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Inspiring Darkness Reverie
Death’s Lawgiver bears a dream of paradise to the Underworld’s sunless lands, bringing forth
glories to forge a new age.
Upon learning this Charm, the Abyssal gains three white points. When she rolls for Futile Labor’s
Reward (p. XX), she gains an additional three white points.

Soul-Tarnishing Treasures
Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Psyche
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Five-Fold Malice Curse
Death’s Lawgiver pours her malice into her works, tempting those who bear them to dark deeds.
Upon completing a craft project, the Abyssal imbues her with a malign influence, compelling the object’s
owner to engage in some destructive or criminal behavior related to it. A sword might demand violence,
while a chalice might encourage drinking to excess. The Abyssal makes a special ([Charisma or
Manipulation] + Craft) persuade roll to determine the compulsion’s strength.
If the object’s owner has a Resolve lower than the Abyssal’s successes, he faces its temptation whenever
he has the opportunity to engage in the chosen act. He enters a Decision Point, requiring him to cite an
Intimacy whose intensity depends on the level of project used for the creation: Minor for basic or major
projects, Major for superior projects, or Defining for legendary projects. This influence only triggers
while a character has the objection on his person (or is inside of a structure), and doesn’t affect the
Abyssal.
Once a character has faced (Abyssal’s Essence) Decision Points, he’s immune to this Charm’s influence
for the rest of the story. However, the only way to be permanently freed of it is to abandon the object —
even magic capable of breaking Psyche effects is ineffective. Doing requires entering a Decision Point
and citing an Intimacy as above, but costs three Willpower.

Coveted Prize Craftwork

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Psyche
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Soul-Tarnishing Treasures
The Abyssal pours the allure of immortality into her work encouraging the weak-willed to fight to
possess it.
The Abyssal makes a special ([Charisma or Manipulation] + Craft instill roll against a single target as she
displays something she’s crafted with at least a major project. If successful, her target gains a Minor
Obsession (Exalted, p. 169) with acquiring it. If he had a Major or Defining Tie that supported the
Abyssal’s influence, his Obsession is Major instead.
Until the Abyssal’s target obtains the object, he can’t regain Willpower from resting, his dreams poisoned
by avarice. If he succeeds in obtaining it, he can’t give it up. Whenever he makes a read intentions roll, he
must make a Willpower roll against his Obsession if he hasn’t already done so that day. If he fails the
Willpower roll, he fails the read intentions roll automatically and believes his target seeks to obtain the
Abyssal’s creation.
Each time a character succeeds on a Willpower roll against his Obsession, its hold on him is weakened,
letting him regain Willpower from sleep that night. Once he’s done so (Abyssal’s Essence) times, he loses
the Obsession and is freed from this influence. However, once a character obtains the Abyssal’s work, he
can only resist is by abandoning it, requiring him to enter a Decision Point and cite a Major or Defining
Intimacy to pay three Willpower. Even magic capable of breaking Psyche effects is ineffective.
If he dies, he always returns as a ghost if able, still subject to this Charm’s influence and incapable of
resisting it. The ghost remains obsessed with protecting the object and his hungry ghost stalks and attacks
anyone who possesses the object.
Reset: This Charm can’t be used against a character more than once per story.

World-Slaying Arsenal Epiphany

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Barrow-Mound Stockpile, Frenzied Forge Within (x2), Void
Demiurge’s Art
A master of artifice and a forger of souls, Death’s Lawgiver unveils dread wonders of her
design.
The Abyssal can use Wretched Workshop Flourishing to create a two-dot artifact, without needing to roll.
She receives five gold points as long as this satisfies a basic objective (Exalted, p. 240).
With Essence 5, the Abyssal can create three-dot artifacts with this Charm.
Reset: Once per story.

Wretched Blacksmith Clangor

Cost: —; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Empty Mind Enlightenment, Perfection of Bleak Design (x2),
Void Demiurge’s Art (x2)
Striving beyond the ambition of mortal smiths, the Abyssal unleashes her unfettered genius.
When the Abyssal rolls for a Craft project, every three successes she receives lets her roll an additional
non-Charm die. Successes from these dice are counted in determining how many total dice she can roll
with this Charm — e.g., if she rolled three successes with the extra dice, she’d then roll another die.
With an Essence 4 repurchase, when the Abyssal rolls enough successes with this Charm’s extra dice to
let her roll additional dice, she rolls an additional three non-Charm dice. This benefit can only trigger
once, even if she rolls 3+ successes on the new dice.

Betrayal-Spurring Gifts
Cost: 15m, 1wp; Mins: Craft 5, Essence 5
Type: Simple
Keywords: Psyche
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Coveted Prize Craftwork or Drawn to Death’s Beauty
The gifts and treasures that fall from the hands of Death’s Lawgiver are fetters for those who
claim them, subjugating them to her dark will.
The Abyssal may use social influence to leverage gifts she’s made for others as though they were Ties of
gratitude to her. Gifts created with basic or major projects count as Minor Ties; those made with superior
projects count as Major Ties; those made with legendary projects count as Defining Ties. The gift need
not be on a target’s person, so long as he remains in possession of it.
Additionally, while using this Charm, the Abyssal waives the mote costs of Drawn to Death’s Beauty,
Five-Fold Malice Curse, Magnificent Cenotaph Allure, and Soul-Tarnishing Treasures, including uses
that are already active. Once this Charm ends, she must commit those Charms’ mote costs as usual to
maintain them.
Dodge
Ephemeral Presence Elusion
Cost: 1m; Mins: Dodge 2, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The deathknight is as insubstantial as a ghost, slipping past the blades of her enemies.
The Abyssal can activate this Charm after an attack roll against her to subtract one success.

Flitting Shadow Form

Cost: 2m; Mins: Dodge 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ephemeral Presence Elusion
Skilled in cheating death, the Abyssal escapes even impossible perils.
The Abyssal ignores penalties to her Evasion, including surprise attack penalties.

Gracious Gift of Despair

Cost: 4m; Mins: Dodge 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Counterattack
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Flitting Shadow Form
All attempts to strike the deathknight are futile, revealing the meaninglessness of life itself.
If the Abyssal successfully dodges an attack, she counterattacks with a ([Charisma or Manipulation] +
Dodge) roll to instill a Principle expressing her attacker’s despair, helplessness, or insignificance.
If the Abyssal succeeds, her attacker can’t oppose her disengage rolls until the end of her next turn. This
costs one Willpower to resist, separate from resisting the instill roll.

Risen Revenant Grace

Cost: 1m, 1i; Mins: Dodge 2, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal is not seen to rise — one moment, she lies prostrate; the next, she stands light on
her feet.
The Abyssal reflexively rises from prone (Exalted, p. 198), doubling 9s. This doesn’t count as her move
action, and can be done outside her turn. If she uses this Charm upon waking from sleep or while resting,
she waives its cost and doubles 8s if a roll is necessary.

Incomparable Phantom Form

Cost: —; Mins: Dodge 3, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Suffusing her body with spectral Essence, the Abyssal becomes translucent and insubstantial.
When defending against an attack, the Abyssal may spend Initiative as if it were motes on the Dodge
Excellency against it. Doing so adds (Essence) to the maximum bonus she can add to Evasion with
Charms.
While using Untouchable Phantom Mien (p. XX), each point of Initiative spent on the Dodge Excellency
counts as two motes.
With Dodge 5, Essence 3, the deathknight gains one mote when she dodges an attack with this Charm,
maximum once per round.

Uncanny Impulse Evasion

Cost: 5m; Mins: Dodge 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Incomparable Phantom Form
The Abyssal moves before she knows why, guided by her preternatural instinct for danger.
The Abyssal can dodge an ambush or a similar unseen peril. Her base Evasion is set to 2, but she adds +1
for every 1 and 2 on the attack roll (or comparable roll for other hazards). If this raises her Evasion to its
normal base value, she may use other Dodge Charms against the ambush.

Shadow Fades at Dawn

Cost: 3m, 2i; Mins: Dodge 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Impulse Evasion
As darkness ever outpaces the light it flees from, the Abyssal moves beyond her foes’ reach.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after dodging an attack, leaping one range band in any direction.

As Receding Frost
Cost: 2m; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Incomparable Phantom Form
As the Abyssal escapes, the chill of her passing strips the speed from her pursuers.
When the Abyssal disengages, 1s on opposing character’s rolls subtract successes.

Unharried Specter Step

Cost: —(1m); Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: As Receding Frost
The Abyssal drifts across the battlefield with the blasé indifference of one well-accustomed with
death.
After the deathknight successful disengages, if her enemy pursues her and she uses her reflexive
movement, she can gain two Initiative if she uses her next movement action to enter close range with him.
Additionally, the Abyssal can spend one mote when she disengages to avoid losing Initiative.
Black Feather Blinding
Cost: 5m; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Until next turn
Prerequisite Charms: Incomparable Phantom Form
A cloud of dark feathers bursts from the Abyssal, concealing her within the swirling storm.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after dodging an attack, unleashing a whirlwind of black feathers that
extends out to short range until her next turn. Enemies caught within it suffer a −2 penalty on vision-
dependent rolls, which increases to −3 on attacks against the Abyssal.
With a Dodge 5, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a one-Willpower surcharge to extend the
whirling feathers out to medium range. The buffeting feathers inflict its penalty on all physical actions.
Enemies lose one Initiative each time they move into or within the feathers, and at the end of each round.

Stolen Victory Reversal

Cost: —; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Incomparable Phantom Form
The Abyssal’s flawless evasion daunts her foes, breaking their will to fight.
When the Abyssal successfully dodges an attack, her attacker loses one Initiative.
With a Dodge 5, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal gains the lost Initiative.

Artless Arrows Spurned

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Impulse Evasion
Disdaining her foes’ bumbling attempts to hurt her, the Abyssal redirects attacks to those more
deserving.
If the deathknight successfully dodges an attack, she may redirect it against an enemy within close range.
The attack and all effects enhancing it are rerolled, using the same dice pool, against the new target. Any
Initiative a withering attack would grant the attacker goes to the stylist instead.
If the Abyssal is hit by the attack she used this Charm against, she waives this Charm’s cost the next time
she uses it. She must do so before her next turn or lose this benefit.

Doom-Denying Grace
Cost: 4m; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Ephemeral Presence Elusion
With each blow the Abyssal evades, it seems less and less possible that she might ever be
struck.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after successfully dodging an attack, subtracting one success from
subsequent attack rolls against her.
This Charm is incompatible with armor.

Frozen Fears Blossom

Cost: 4m, 1i; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Counterattack, Perilous
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Gracious Gift of Despair
Fed by ennui and misery, the seeds of despair blossom into frozen flowers.
When an enemy with a Principle instilled by Gracious Gift of Despair or a similar Intimacy attacks the
Abyssal, she adds +1 Evasion. If she successfully dodges, his despair crystallizes into shards of ice
around his heart, dealing (lower of Intimacy or Abyssal’s Essence) dice of lethal decisive damage,
ignoring Hardness. This counts as a counterattack.
A damaged enemy suffers a –1 crippling penalty on physical rolls from chill within. The penalty from
multiple uses of this Charm stacks.

Entropic Hoarfrost Radiance

Cost: —; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Frozen Fears Blossom
The deathknight draws forth the chill of death’s misery from hearts conquered by despair.
Upon purchasing this Charm, the Abyssal chooses two of the below enhancements to Frozen Fears
Blossom. Some enhancements require her to pay a surcharge.
The Death of Joy (+2m): If the Abyssal deals damage, her target must weaken one of his positive
Intimacies.
Icy Wake of Despair (+3m): If the Abyssal deals damage, the ground freezes out to short range around
him, becoming difficult terrain (Exalted, p. 199) for the rest of the scene.
Razor Ice Blast (+2m, 2i): If the Abyssal deals damage, shards of ice erupt out to short range from her
victim, a one-time environmental hazard with difficulty 4, Damage (Abyssal’s Essence)L. Her victim
doesn’t receive a roll to resist the hazard.
Soul-Freezing Chill (+2m): The inflicted penalty also applies to the target’s Resolve. The Abyssal need
only use this effect once to apply it to all stacked penalties from multiple uses.
The Abyssal may purchase additional enhancements for three experience points or one bonus point each.
Her player may work with the Storyteller to create new enhancements.

Icy Sepulcher Entombment

Cost: —(+1m, 1i); Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Entropic Hoarfrost Radiance
The Abyssal’s enemies are already prisoners to their own despair; all that is necessary is to
demonstrate this truth.
When the Abyssal uses Frozen Fears Blossom against an enemy with a Major or Defining Principle
instilled by Gracious Gift of Despair or a similar Intimacy, she may pay a one-mote, one-Initiative
surcharge to imprison him in ice. If he’s damaged by the counterattack, he’s encased in rime, inflicting a
−3 penalty on physical rolls and preventing him from taking movement actions. This penalty subtracts
successes instead of dice on rolls to attack the Abyssal or to oppose her disengage rolls.
Breaking the enemy out of the ice requires a Strength 3 feat with difficulty (Intimacy + 2). Alternatively,
he can be freed by magical fire or heat, but only if it deals 1+ decisive damage to him.

Untouchable Phantom Mien

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Flitting Shadow Form
The Abyssal blurs and distorts in motion, untouched even by the attacks that seem to strike her
wraith-like form.
The Abyssal ignores penalties to Evasion against lower-Initiative enemies. At the end of each round, if
she’s within close range of an enemy and hasn’t been hit by any attacks that round, she gains one
Initiative.

Flickering Wisp Technique

Cost: —(2m); Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow Fades at Dawn or Unharried Specter Step
The Abyssal dissolves into mist and shadow, crossing the killing field in a blink.
When the Abyssal uses Shadow Fades at Dawn or Hanging Shrike Focus (p. XX), she can vanish and
reappear at her destination without crossing the space between. She must be able to see the destination.
The deathknight can also pay two motes to gain this benefit when she uses the reflexive movement from a
successful disengage.

Striking at Shadows
Cost: 5m; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Stolen Victory Reversal (x2)
Exploiting every flaw in her enemy’s form, the Abyssal lets him defeat himself.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after dodging an attack, causing her attacker to lose Initiative equal to the
1s on his roll.

Vanishing Shade Evasion

Cost: 3m per success; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Flitting Shadow Form
The deathknight finds every flaw in a foe’s attack, spurning their imperfect violence.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after an attack roll against her, causing her attacker’s 1s to subtract
successes for three motes each. If she successfully dodges, she can reflexively roll Stealth to establish
concealment if she’s in a suitable hiding spot, adding her opponent’s lost successes on her roll.

Futile Blows Spurned

Cost: 4m per level; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Vanishing Shade Evasion
The deathknight dances through killing blows, emerging unsullied and unscathed.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after a decisive damage roll against her, negating levels of damage for
four motes each.

Wraith-Form Avoidance
Cost: 4m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Stolen Victory Reversal (x2)
Cloaked in nothingness, the Abyssal dances through all that would harm her.
The Abyssal perfectly dodges an attack or other source of harm, even if it’s undodgeable. This doesn’t let
her defend against ambushes. Uncountable damage is negated completely; she becomes immune to a
recurring source of uncountable damage.
Reset: Once per scene, unless the Abyssal successfully dodges three decisive attacks using Incomparable
Phantom Form.

Beyond Death’s Reach

Cost: 5m; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Uniform
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Striking at Shadows
The Abyssal’s invincible grace is proof of her superiority over the living.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after successfully dodging an attack to gain one Initiative for each 1 or 2
on the attack roll.

Foe-Shaming Defense
Cost: 5m, 3i, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Counterattack, Perilous, Withering-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Striking at Shadows
The Abyssal toys with her enemy, evading his blow at the last possible moment to force him to
overreach.
After successfully dodging an attack, the Abyssal can use this Charm to make an unblockable withering
counterattack, rolling (Dexterity + Dodge). It has (higher of Dexterity or 3) raw damage. If she damages
him, he’s knocked prone and suffers a −3 penalty on rolls to rise from prone.
The Abyssal doesn’t gain Initiative from hitting or dealing damage, banking half of it, rounded up, in a
separate pool. The baneked Initiative can only be spent on the Dodge Excellency using Ephemeral
Presence Elusion or on Dodge Charms. It’s lost if she’s crashed or uses this Charm again, or once the
scene ends.

Hanging Shrike Focus

Cost: 3m, 2i, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Shadow Fades at Dawn
The deathknight hangs in the air as if on spectral wings, gazing down on her victims before
delivering them to their deaths.
The Abyssal leaps up to three range bands straight up, floating in mid-air at its apex. While in the air, she
can flurry ranged attacks with aim actions.
This Charm can only be used on the Abyssal’s turn and uses her movement action. If there are any
enemies within close range when she uses this Charm, she must make a disengage roll as part of this
action to successfully ascend, adding (Essence) automatic successes.
When this Charm ends, the Abyssal descends gently to the ground without taking damage. If the Abyssal
ends it prematurely to drop down and makes a non-ranged attack on the same turn, it receives the benefits
of aiming.
Special activation rules: If the Abyssal jumps or ascends beyond close range from the ground with a
Charm or other effect, she can use this Charm to hang in mid-air, waiving its Willpower cost.

Jubilant Mayhem Incitement

Cost: —(3m, 2i); Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Perilous, Uniform
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Artless Arrows Spurned
Arrows fly and blades swing seemingly at random, inciting pandemonium among the
deathknight’s foes.
The Abyssal may pay three motes and two Initiative when she redirects an attack with Artless Arrows
Spurned, make the redirected attack a surprise attack.
The redirected attack also counts as a special instill roll against all enemies who witness it, other than the
original attacker. The redirected attack’s target applies any Defense penalties he suffers to his Resolve as
well against this.
Affected characters believe the attacker struck his ally out of malice, incompetence, or inexcusable
carelessness. This weakens positive Ties toward him for characters who have them, and instills negative
Ties with a context chosen by the target’s player for those who don’t.

Queen of Killers Pirouette

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Clash, Dual
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Artless Arrows Spurned
With a smile and a graceful spin, the Abyssal effortlessly turns her opponent’s blades back to
their throats.
The Abyssal clashes an attack with (Dexterity + Dodge). If successful, her enemy’s attack is turned back
against him, hitting him automatically and retaining all effects used to enhance the original attack. Any
Initiative a redirected withering attack would grant the attacker goes to the stylist instead.
If the Abyssal knows Foe-Shaming Defense, winning the clash also knocks her enemy prone.
Tenebrous Cloud Dissolution
Cost: 10m, 1wp (1i per turn); Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Dual, Mute, Perilous
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Flickering Wisp Technique
The Abyssal melts into the air, becoming nothing more than dark, chill fog.
The Abyssal dissolves into a cloud of fog, with the following effects:
• She gains +2 Evasion. With an appropriate stunt, she can dodge unblockable attacks.
• She can’t take physical actions except for dodging, Stealth rolls, and movement actions, as well
as Charms like Breath-Seizing Mist that are explicitly compatible. She’s still able to speak.
• In combat, she can move two range bands on her turn as an action that can’t be flurried. She can
do so reflexively on the turn she uses this Charm.
• She can hover up to close range above the ground, letting her float over difficult terrain and
certain environmental hazards unimpeded. She can’t cross running water.
• She can pass through doors, walls, and other obstructions as long as they aren’t airtight or
magically warded against such intrusion.
• She’s immune to decisive damage unless its source is enhanced by magic, based on heat or cold,
or benefits from an appropriate stunt. Even then, decisive damage rolls against her subtracts (Essence)
successes unless they’re based on heat or cold.
• Grappling her is impossible without appropriate magic.
The Abyssal must pay one Initiative at the start of each of her subsequent turns or this Charm ends. It also
ends if she’s crashed.
Reset: Once per scene.

Breath-Seizing Mist
Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 4
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Until expulsion
Prerequisite Charms: Tenebrous Cloud Dissolution
The Abyssal flows into her victim’s lungs as a river of freezing mist, choking the life out of him
from within.
While using Tenebrous Cloud Dissolution, the Abyssal pours herself into an enemy’s lungs. She rolls
(Dexterity + Dodge) opposed by the (Stamina + Resistance) of a character within close range. In combat,
this is a difficulty 5 gambit that’s unblockable and undodgeable. Trivial characters and sleeping
characters don’t receive a roll to resist.
If successful, the victim begins to suffocate (Exalted, p. 232) and is unable to speak. He suffers a −3
penalty on all actions. The Abyssal can’t take other actions while suffocating him, but she can’t be
targeted by attacks or similar physical actions unless they benefit from appropriate magic or a stunt. She
waives Tenebrous Cloud Dissolution’s Initiative cost and can’t end that Charm voluntarily unless she
leaves her host.
On each of the victim’s turns, he can attempt to expel the Abyssal with another (Stamina + Resistance)
roll opposing her (Dexterity + Dodge roll). This action can’t be flurried. If he fails, the Abyssal steals
(Essence) Initiative from him.
While this Charm can affect enemies who don’t need to breathe, like zombies or characters using certain
magic, it can’t affect enemies with no lungs or respiratory system at all, like most automatons.

In Awful Glory Crowned

Cost: 7m, 1wp; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Psyche
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Icy Sepulcher Entombment
The deathknight revels in her enemies’ despair, glorying as they succumb to the freezing weight
of their failure.
If the Abyssal raises an enemy’s penalty from Frozen Fears Blossom to (higher of his base Resolve or 3),
she can use this Charm to crash him. He’s incapacitated instead if the exploited Intimacy is Defining or if
he’s a mortal, Essence 1 ghost, or trivial character, surrendering utterly to despair.
Either way, the Abyssal’s victim loses Willpower equal to the levels of damage dealt by the final use of
Frozen Fears Blossom. If this leaves them without any temporary Willpower, they gain a Defining Tie of
obedience toward the Abyssal with intensity equal to that of the exploited Intimacy.
Mortals and trivial characters affected who lose all Willpower die of despair unless the Abyssal spares
them. Such characters always leave a ghost, as do those who die in the same scene this Charm was used.
Their Ties of obedience linger past their death.

Thousandfold Shadow Perfection

Cost: —; Mins: Dodge 5, Essence 5
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Wraith-Form Avoidance
The deathknight savors her enemy’s despair in the face of an invincible foe
After dodging an attack with Wraith-Form Avoidance, the Abyssal is suffused with dark power. She gains
one Initiative, plus an additional Initiative at the start of each turn. She loses this benefit if she’s hit by an
attack, enters concealment, or is at long range or further from all enemies.

Integrity
Death’s Inscrutable Mask
Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal stills her heart, assuming the enigmatic mien of a corpse.
The Abyssal can Integrity instead of Socialize to calculate her Guile. As long as her demeanor in a scene
remains subdued and unemotional, she gains +1 Guile against rolls that would reveal her emotion-based
Intimacies or similar information about her emotions.

Immutable Graven Mythos

Cost: 4m (1wp); Mins: Integrity 1, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Such is the Abyssal’s dedication to her grave purpose that she remains immutable by will alone.
When the Abyssal is exposed to a Shaping effect, she can defend with this Charm, regardless of what
Ability she uses to resist. She adds (higher of Essence or 3) successes on her opposed roll or adds (higher
of Essence or 3) to the targeted static value. If the Shaping effect is rolled, its 1s subtract successes.
Even if the Abyssal fails, she can pay one Willpower to mitigate the consequences. If a transformation is
normally permanent, it becomes possible for the Abyssal to break it, though it’s up to her to figure out
how — often with the use of Lore, Medicine, or Occult.
The Abyssal also can’t be changed in a way that kills her, leaves her unable to take any actions, or stops
her from using Charms or other magic at all — at least, not immediately. The Storyteller can inflict a
weakened version of the effect that develops progressively, giving the Abyssal ample time to find a way
to break it, as above — seasons, or even years. Alternatively, the Storyteller can alter the transformation’s
nature so that it doesn’t have such an impact on the deathknight.
With an Integrity 5, Essence 2 repurchase, Immutable Graven Mythos’s bonus becomes non-Charm.
Against Shaping effects that are normally unrolled, the Abyssal rolls (Essence + current temporary
Willpower) against the opposing character’s (current temporary Willpower). That character loses one
success and one Willpower for each 1 or 2 that he rolls. Success negates that effect and renders the
Abyssal immune to it for the rest of the session. If the Shaping isn’t created by a character, the Storyteller
sets a difficulty for the Abyssal’s roll.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers instead of paying the Willpower cost to mitigate a
Shaping effect’s consequences.

Lesser Horrors Scorned

Cost: 1m; Mins: Integrity 1, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One tick
Prerequisite Charms: None
Having tasted death itself, the Abyssal is inured to the infirmities of the flesh.
The Abyssal ignores wound penalties to her Resolve and Guile, as well as penalties from crippling effects
or symptoms of disease.

Bound by the Old Laws

Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 2, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Having damned herself with one promise, it is not lightly that the Abyssal makes her vows.
When the Abyssal formally commits to an agreement, she may instantly form a Minor Principle
expressing her grim resignation to upholding her part of the deal. (This counts as a negative Principle). If
she genuinely intends to honor the bargain, her sincerity becomes self-evident to any other parties to the
agreement. If she doesn’t, she adds (Integrity/2) dice on Manipulation-based influence rolls against them
for the rest of the scene.
Upon fulfilling an agreement, the Abyssal discards this Principle, if she still has it, and gains one
Willpower. She can’t gain more than one Willpower per day this way.

Murder-Saint Dedication
Cost: 2m; Mins: Integrity 2, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Whatever compassion the Abyssal feels for the living, she does not permit it to impede her.
The Abyssal gains +2 Resolve against influence that would weaken a negative Intimacy. This doesn’t
protect Ties to the deathknight’s Lunar mate; her heart is not so easily hardened against him.
This Charm’s cost is waived when used to protect Ties toward mortals. With Integrity 5, it’s waived for
Ties toward any of the living.

Venomous Scorn Rebuke

Cost: 3m; Mins: Integrity 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Murder-Saint Dedication
Death’s Lawgiver has little patience for fools and sinners, swift to upbraid their unrighteous
ways.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she witnesses someone act in a way that violates one of her
Defining Intimacies or death’s chivalry. She forms a Minor Tie of contempt for him. As long as she
openly expresses her scorn, she increases that Tie’s Resolve bonus by one and adds (higher of Essence or
3) dice on influence rolls that solely target the offender or seek to turn others against him.
The Abyssal retains the Tie after this Charm ends.
With Integrity 5, the Abyssal can use this Charm when one of her Major Intimacies is violated.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke Whispers to use this Charm without provocation, tapping the limitless
hatred of the Neverborn.

Undying Stagnation Defense

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Integrity 3, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal permeates her being with death’s stasis, passing unchanged through the courts of
chaos.
The Abyssal and her equipment are immune to the effects of exposure to the Wyld and other environment
Shaping effects that would alter her body, mind, or equipment. She instinctively senses such perils in time
to use this Charm, and can use it even while asleep or incapacitated.

Wyld Exposure
Resisting exposure to the Wyld is a (Wits + Integrity) roll; failure results in
unwanted transformation that count as Flaws (Exalted, p. 167), addiction, or
Derangements. The difficulty, consequences for failure, and frequency at which
the roll must be made depend on the Wyld’s intensity. Certain ritual practices,
meditative disciplines, and warding talismans may add bonus dice; accepting
faerie hospitality may impose penalties. Once a character fails a roll against
exposure, she doesn’t need to make rolls for that specific location again for the rest
of the story.
Different Wyld locales have their own distinctive character. The mutations they
inflict reflect this: a glacial ziggurat transforms people into living ice; a
subterranean labyrinth twists those who pass through it into pale, elongated
creatures; a forest of speaking beasts traps humans in animalistic forms.
BEGIN TABLE WITHIN SIDEBAR
Intensity Difficult Interval Possible Effects
Bordermarch 3 Monthly Addiction. Largely superficial
transformations. No Derangements.
Middlemarch 5 Weekly Addiction. Minor Derangements.
Undesirable transformations, inflicting a −2 penalty on a limited range of actions
or similar detriments: physical dependency on an unusual substance, vulnerability
to iron, etc.
Deep Wyld 7 Daily Addiction. Major Derangements, or increasing
existing Major Derangements to Defining. Life-altering transformations: bodily
reconstructions that impose a −3 penalty on a broad range of actions; eternally
rotting and unhealing flesh; sapient, parasitic organs; etc.
END TABLE
Characters who roll against the Wyld may choose to go into experience debt to
purchase up to five dots of thematically appropriate mutations whether they
succeed or fail.

Gloaming Soul Reinforcement

Cost: 5m per 1wp; Mins: Integrity 3, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Lesser Horrors Scorned
Confronted by despair or temptation, the deathknight draws from unknown depths to steel her
mind.
The Abyssal can spend motes instead of Willpower to resist social influence or other mind-affecting
magic, paying five motes per Willpower.

Blood Before Surrender

Cost: 4m, 1ahl; Mins: Integrity 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Murder-Saint Dedication
Blood trickles from the Abyssal’s lips as she pushes herself to her utmost, burning away her
own deathless vitality to sustain her resolve.
When the Abyssal’s Resolve is beaten by an influence roll to convince her to undertake a serious or life-
changing task (Exalted, p. 216), she can use this Charm to perfectly defend against that influence.
Reset: Once per story, unless reset when events prove the Abyssal justified in refusing the influence in a
way that benefits or aligns with death’s chivalry or one of her one of her Defining Principles.

Becoming the Unfeeling Shade

Cost: 7m; Mins: Integrity 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Blood Before Surrender
Afflicted with unwanted feelings, the Abyssal feeds them to the yawning void where her heart
should be.
When the Abyssal is targeted by social influence that leverages one of her positive Intimacies, she
discards that Intimacy, losing it completely. If that Intimacy provided the support necessary for an instill
or persuade roll (Exalted, pp. 215-216), the roll fails automatically, unless she has another Intimacy that
can support the action.
The Abyssal can’t voluntarily reform the discarded Intimacy for the rest of the story. If someone tries to
instill her with that Intimacy, the roll follows the rules for overturning influence (Exalted, p. 221).
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers to discard any Intimacy when she uses this Charm,
consigning it to the nightmares of the Neverborn.
Reset: Once per session, unless reset by upholding a negative Major or Defining Tie.

Eternal Enmity Approach

Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Venomous Scorn Rebuke
The Abyssal draws strength from her hatred, implacable in the face of those she has named her
enemies.
Upon purchasing this Charm, she chooses one of her negative Defining Intimacies. It can’t be weakened
by any means, other than her voluntarily doing so, and any influence that would cause her to act against it
is unacceptable (Exalted, p. 220).
Characters can attempt to undermine this Charm’s defense with a special instill roll, rolling twice and
taking the lower result. The cost of any magic that enhances either roll must be paid separately. If
successful, the chosen Intimacy loses this Charm’s protection until the Abyssal gains Willpower from
upholding it.
If the Abyssal voluntarily weakens the enhanced Intimacy, it likewise loses this Charm’s protection until
she raises it back to Defining intensity. Alternatively, she can choose another of her valid Intimacies to
apply his Charm to.
An Essence 3 repurchase lets the Abyssal choose a second Intimacy for this Charm.

Dark Promises Fulfilled

Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 4, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Bound By the Old Laws
Drawing the oaths that bind her tight around her soul, the Abyssal summons up power to work
her dark miracles.
Brooding over her obligations, the Abyssal chooses one of the agreements she’s sworn to with Bound by
the Old Laws and still has a Principle for. She rolls ([Charisma or Manipulation] + Integrity), adding
(Intimacy) non-Charm dice, and gains motes equal to her successes. She can only spend these motes on
magic used to uphold her end of the deal, and she can’t spend them in combat. If she’s a necromancer or
sorcerer, the banked motes can also be spent on spells.
These motes are lost if not spent by the end of the day. If the Abyssal completes her part of the agreement
before then, she retains up to (higher of Essence or 3) of them, or all of them if she fulfilled a serious or
life-changing task to hold up her end (Exalted, p. 216).
Reset: Once per day.

Villain’s Heart Renewal

Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 4, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Murder-Saint Dedication
The Abyssal laughs at the failing efforts and faltering words of the so-called heroes who stand
against her.
When a character makes an influence roll against the Abyssal, she gains motes equal to his 1s and 2s. She
also gains this benefit against rolls to inflict Shaping effects or sorcerous curses on her. She can only
spend these motes on influence rolls, read intentions actions, Resolve, and Guile. Any unspent motes are
lost at the end of the scene.

Sworn to Everlasting Vengeance

Cost: 1m, 1wp; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Bound by the Old Laws, Murder-Saint Dedication
The Abyssal swears an oath of vengeance to stain the Old Laws red, binding herself to an
insatiable need for bloody revenge.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when an enemy deals her a significant defeat or setback, violates one of
her Major or Defining Intimacies in a significant way, or commits a similar wrong against her, or when
learns of such an offense. She gains a Defining Tie of vengeful hatred towards the transgressor. This
replaces any existing Ties she has toward them. It’s up to the Abyssal what form her vengeance will take,
but it must be either proportional or excessive compared to the wrong done to her.
As long as the Abyssal retains this Tie at Defining intensity, she gains the following benefits:
• She gains +2 Resolve against the offender, unless he leverages the Tie with an appeal to her
hatred.
• If she cites the Tie in a Decision Point, the cost to resist is reduced by one Willpower.
• She can use Venomous Scorn Rebuke against the offender without provocation. Instead of
forming a new Tie of contempt, she applies the Resolve modifier bonus to this Charm’s Intimacy.
The Abyssal can’t voluntarily weaken the Tie while this Charm remains active. If she goes a session
without working toward her revenge at all, she loses one Willpower.
Upon avenging herself, the Abyssal is filled with grim satisfaction, fully replenishing her motes and
temporary Willpower. Her Tie is converted into a Defining Principle chosen by her player to reflect the
impact of this experience on her worldview.
Reset: Once per story, unless reset by successfully attaining revenge. If the Abyssal maintains this Charm
for multiple stories, she must wait until the current story ends for it to reset.

Affliction of the Oathbreaker

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Dark Promises Fulfilled
Woe to those dishonor their pacts with Death’s Lawgiver, for their sins cannot be kept hidden.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when someone makes a promise to her or commits to an agreement with
her, forging a bond between them. If the deathknight has a Lunar mate, she can do so for promises made
to him in her presence. Should the target break his word, the Abyssal immediately senses his betrayal. She
discerns the general circumstances and context of the violation, and she gets a general sense of direction
toward the location where it took places. If she’s been there before, she identifies its exact location. For
the rest of the story, she doubles 8s on Perception rolls to find the offender.
A Moonshadow Caste waives this Charm’s cost if she uses it together with her oathbinding anima power.

Dark Will Ascendant

Cost: 4m; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Gloaming Soul Reinforcement
Finding grim certainty in her dark purpose, the Abyssal’s will is renewed.
The Abyssal gains one Willpower, which can raise her above her permanent Willpower. She can’t use this
Charm while in combat.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by upholding death’s chivalry or a negative Defining Tie.

Faithful Killer’s Reprieve

Cost: 4m; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Blood Before Surrender
Embracing her purpose as a world-killing weapon, the deathknight finds certainty amid storms of
doubt.
The Abyssal can use this Charm after her Resolve is beaten by influence that forces her into a Decision
Point. She can cite an act of death’s chivalry she’s performed in the current story — or the previous one,
if it ended shortly ago — as if it were a Defining Intimacy in a Decision Point. Doing so waives the
Willpower cost to resist.
Reset: Once per story unless reset by upholding a Defining Intimacy with an act of death’s chivalry.

Five Hearts Hatred

Cost: 3m; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Eternal Enmity Approach
Even specters tremble at the viciousness that seethes within the Abyssal’s soul.
Against influence that would weaken one of the Abyssal’s negative Intimacies, up to (Essence) 1s
subtract successes from the roll against her (but not other targets). If the targeted Intimacy is Defining, the
Abyssal can wait until after the influence roll to use this Charm.
Reset: An Intimacy can only be protected this way once per story, unless reset by accomplishing a major
character or story goal that upholds it.

Freedom in Chains
Cost: 7m, 1wp; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Gloaming Soul Reinforcement
The deathknight has sworn an oath to the Neverborn that can never be unspoken. No lesser
binding can truly hold her.
The Abyssal can use this Charm to break free of Psyche effects, possession, or any other magic that exerts
control over her body, mind, or soul. Before she can do so, she must first be forced to act against one of
her Intimacies or against death’s chivalry by it. After a scene spent contemplating or brooding over these
events, she can use this Charm to break free of that effect’s control.
Reset: Once per story, unless reset by accomplishing a major character or story goal in a way that
upholds death’s chivalry.

Clarity in Hatred
Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Whispers
Duration: Instant or Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Freedom in Chains
Clinging to what little remains to define her, the Abyssal finds an unassailable truth in the worst
of herself.
The Abyssal perfectly defends against a Psyche effect, Shaping effect, or sorcerous curse by invoking one
of her negative Defining Intimacies. She can commit this Charm’s cost indefinitely to become immune to
that kind of effect for as long as she keeps that Intimacy at Defining intensity. Defending against a
Shaping effect only grants immunity to other Shaping effects that change the same aspect of the Abyssal
— resisting a physical transformation won’t help her against spiritual mutilation.
If the Abyssal invokes a Principle protected Eternal Enmity Approach, she must give up its protection for
this Charm’s duration.
With Essence 5, this Charm’s cost is reduced by three motes.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers instead of an Intimacy. If she extends this Charm’s
duration, she can’t invoke her Whispers again until it ends.
Reset: Once the Abyssal ends this Charm, she can’t use it again until she’s spent a scene acting in
accordance with a Defining Intimacy she intends to use it through.

Revenge Beyond Reason

Cost: —(+4m); Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Eternal Enmity Approach, Sworn to Everlasting Vengeance
There are no words that can sway the Abyssal from her path of hate.
When the Abyssal uses Sworn to Everlasting Vengeance, she may pay a four-mote surcharge to grant its
vengeful Tie gains the protection of Eternal Enmity Approach.

World-Ending Void Apostle

Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: One scene
Prerequisite Charms: Gloaming Soul Reinforcement
As the Abyssal’s world crumbles around her, something vast and terrible stirs in the depths of
her soul, urging her to embrace her apocalyptic purpose.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she faces a profound challenge to her beliefs and Intimacies —
being forced to act against a Defining Intimacy, being imprisoned by enemies who challenge her loyalty
to her Deathord, watching someone she has a Defining Tie of love for die. She may waive the costs of up
to three Charms used to defend against social influence, physical injury, or disease or to threaten those
who’ve wronged her. This can’t waive experience costs.
Reset: Once per day unless reset by making a significant sacrifice in order to uphold a Defining Intimacy
or death’s chivalry.

Ego-Slaying Mastery
Cost: —; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 4
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Becoming the Unfeeling Shade, Dark Will Ascendant
Meditating upon nothingness, the Abyssal silences the ceaseless clamoring of the self.
The deathknight adds a free full Excellency to Resolve or Guile, or on an Integrity roll.
Reset: Once per scene, unless reset by successfully asserting Resolve against influence that opposes one
of the Abyssal’s Defining Intimacies.

Immortal Malevolence
Cost: 1wp; Mins: Integrity 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ego-Killing Mastery, Revenge Beyond Reason, World-Ending
Void Apostle
The Abyssal has fettered her soul and found eternal life, rising again and again from certain
death so long as there is hatred still left in her heart.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she’s incapacitated or would suffer death for any reason, surviving
it by calling on a Defining Intimacy protected by Eternal Enmity Approach. She seems to die, yet endures
in a torpor that’s indistinguishable from death by anything less than Eye of the Unconquered Sun.
Come the next sunset, the Abyssal rises, with all damage and crippling injuries healed no matter how
severe they were. She may drag herself out of a grave, well, or the ashes of a pyre where hopefuls burned
her corpse. The only way her foes can kill her is to wait for her to rise, then try again. She can invoke
World-Ending Void Apostle when she rises, and can use it with Charms to aid in escaping imprisonment.
In exchange for the Abyssal’s survival, the chosen Intimacy loses Eternal Enmity Approach’s protection
for the rest of the story.
Special activation rules: If the Abyssal uses Sworn to Endless Vengeance together with this Charm to
swear vengeance on the enemy responsible for her “death,” she waives its Willpower cost. If she
successfully takes her revenge, she restores Eternal Enmity Approach’s protection to the chosen Intimacy.

Investigation
Crime-Unveiling Wickedness
Cost: —; Mins: Investigation 1, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Beneath the Abyssal’s conscious mind dwells a watchful darkness, always seeking out traces of
mystery.
Whenever the Abyssal could gain relevant information from a case scene or profile character action, her
intuition reveals this fact to her. The Storyteller should give her player a vague description of why it
would be useful — for example, that there’s a hidden trap she could detect with a successful case scene
roll, or that someone present in the scene is behaving suspiciously enough to warrant a profile character
roll.

Dread Inquisitor’s Surmise

Cost: —; Mins: Investigation 2, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Crime-Unveiling Wickedness
The Abyssal has come to expect crime and vice from those around her, and rarely finds herself
disappointed.
Whenever a character the Abyssal can perceive makes a Larceny roll, she is intuitively aware of this fact
and adds (Essence) non-Charm dice on an Awareness or Investigation roll to detect this use of Larceny.
She also gains this benefit when a disguised character attempts to do something he couldn’t without the
benefit of the disguise — such as walking past guards keeping out all but a select few — even if he
doesn’t roll Larceny.

Uncanny Detective Practice

Cost: 5m; Mins: Investigation 3, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Crime-Unveiling Wickedness
The guilty cannot hide their secrets from the deathknight’s gaze.
Upon purchasing this Charm, the Abyssal’s player chooses one of its two techniques: Cunning Scrutiny
Style, which enhances case scene rolls, or Guilt-Sensing Eye, which enhances profile character rolls.
Each technique lets the Abyssal add (Essence) successes and doubling 9s on its respective action’s roll,
and complete the action in a handful of seconds.
The Abyssal can repurchase this Charm to learn the second technique.

Malevolent Motive Intuition

Cost: 2m; Mins: Investigation 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Detective Practice
Hatred is a motive the Abyssal knows oh so well.
When the Abyssal succeeds on a profile character roll, she also learns one of her target’s negative Ties.
Alternatively, a successful case scene roll also reveals a negative Tie that motivated the events being
investigated, if there is one. The Storyteller should reveal the Tie most relevant to the Abyssal’s purpose
for making the roll.
If the Abyssal uncovers an Intimacy that she possesses herself, she’s refunded up to (her Intimacy) motes
spent on the roll, effortlessly recognizing such familiar enmity.
With Investigation 5, the Abyssal can narrow her focus to negative Ties with a specific emotional context,
like hatred or fear.

Whispers of the Vengeful Dead

Cost: 4m; Mins: Investigation 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Mute, Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Detective Practice
The unquiet dead call out for justice, and Death’s Lawgiver answers.
The Abyssal adds (higher of Essence or 3) dice on a profile character roll. For every three extra successes
she rolls, she can ask one of the following questions:
• Is he planning to commit an act of violence?
• Who is his greatest enemy among the dead?
• What has he done to disrespect or anger the dead?
• Whose death would hurt him the most?
If the Storyteller doesn’t have an answer in mind, the Abyssal’s player should provide one, as if
introducing a fact.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers to ask an additional question. She can wait until after
using her other questions to do so.
Reset: Once per scene.

Deception-Piercing Stare
Cost: 3m; Mins: Investigation 4, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Detective Practice
Having seen through the great lie of life, Death’s Lawgiver easily winnows falsehoods from truth.
The Abyssal can tell if someone is lying when he makes a statement. If the statement contains partial or
incomplete truths, she discerns which parts of the statement are false or misleading.
Against magic capable of contesting this perfect discernment, the Abyssal rolls (Perception + In-
vestigation) for her opposed roll, adding (Essence) automatic successes. The opposing character’s 1s and
2s subtract successes from his roll.

Phantom Justiciar Technique

Cost: —; Mins: Investigation 4, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Detective Practice
Fleeting suspicions and dark insights come to the Abyssal unbidden, guiding her investigation.
The Abyssal adds a free full Investigation Excellency.
Reset: Once per scene unless reset when a successful Investigation roll reveals information that aids the
Abyssal in upholding or protecting one of her Intimacies or death’s chivalry.

Depraved Heart Sympathy

Cost: 2m, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant or Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Uncanny Detective Practice
The Abyssal knows the guilty mind well, needing only the scantest of evidence to lay bare a
culprit’s heart.
The Abyssal makes a profile character roll by examining someone’s belongings, physical evidence of
their activities, or the like, without having to observe him directly. Access to abundant evidence or items
of personal importance to a suspect might grant circumstantial bonus dice, while sparse, outdated, or
misleading evidence inflicts a penalty. Tasting someone’s blood suffices as long as it was shed no more
than an hour ago, and adds (Essence) non-Charm successes on the roll.
If the Abyssal successfully profiles her target, she can then commit this Charm’s cost to preserve the
profile in her memory. Doing so reduces Uncanny Detective Practice’s cost by two motes when used to
follow up on that investigation. Additionally, Crime-Unveiling Wickedness alerts her to anyone who fits
the profile or any sequence of events that’s consistent with the profiled character’s customary
methodology.

Corpse-Questioning Technique
Cost: 3m; Mins: Investigation 3, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Crime-Unveiling Wickedness
Invoking the Old Laws’ authority, Death’s Lawgiver compels the testimony of the dead.
As the Abyssal examines a corpse, she rolls (Wits + Investigation) against the Resolve it had in life. She
may face penalties if a great deal of time has passed since it’s death or if it’s in poor condition, but if she
can overcome these, it’s possible to wrench answers from corpses that are no more than skulls.
Success revives an echo of the corpse’s selfhood, though little of its personality remains. The Abyssal can
ask the corpse one question, plus an addition question for each extra success. Corpses’ memories of their
lives fade rapidly. A freshly-slain corpse remembers only the last (Abyssal’s Essence) days of its life.
After a day, this is reduced to (Abyssal’s Essence) hours, then that many minutes once a second day has
passed. Once a third day passes, the corpse can only remember its final moments. Corpses can also recall
events in their immediate surroundings from the last (Abyssal’s Essence) days.
Against a zombie or other reanimated corpse, the Abyssal doesn’t roll. Instead of this Charm’s usual
effect, it stirs the zombie’s lingering selfhood and lets the deathknight question it through normal social
influence or Charms like Unsurpassed Interrogation Method, even if it’s mindless.
Reset: Once per scene. This Charm can’t be used on the same corpse more than once.

Fellow Killer Recognition

Cost: 5m; Mins: Investigation 3, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute, Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Malevolent Motive Intuition
Sworn to the end of all life, the Abyssal recognizes those who share her red-handed calling.
The Abyssal senses whether someone has ever killed another person, seeing hallucinatory bloodstains on
the hands of those who have. The more deaths he’s caused, the greater the profusion of blood, giving the
deathknight a general sense of how many lives he’s taken. She senses both direct and indirect
responsibility for death, seeing blood on the hands of both an assassin and his employer, or a soldier and
the king who ordered him to war.
This Charm is usually unrolled. However, the Abyssal must make a special profile character roll if her
target has a relevant Intimacy — a Tie of guilt, a Principle of pride in never being caught, etc. That
Intimacy increases his Guile against her roll, like with Resolve. She must also make this roll if such a
revelation would compromise her target’s disguise or significantly complicate it.
This Charm isn’t dependent on vision — a blind Abyssal might identify killers by a ghostly chorus of the
victim’s wails or some similar omen.
Whispers: If the Abyssal successfully identifies a killer, she may invoke her Whispers to receive a
fleeting vision that somehow relates to the most recent death. While such visions are too brief and hazy to
provide directly actionable information, they may supply leads, identifying people, places, or events
where Crime-Unveiling Wickedness might lead the Abyssal to relevant information.

Lingering Echoes of Anguish

Cost: 1m, 1wp, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 4, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Fellow Killer Recognition
Violence leaves stains more indelible than blood.
The Abyssal makes a special case scene or profile character roll to sense lingering traces of violent acts.
On a successful case scene roll, she experiences a nightmare-like vision of an act of violence that’s taken
place at that location. Successfully profiling a character likewise gives her a vision of one of his violent
acts. While these visions reveal the general nature of the act, they’re too hazy and distorted to give an
accurate depiction of events or reveal the identities of those involved.
By default, the Storyteller should choose whichever violent event is most relevant to the Abyssal’s current
intentions. Alternatively, an Abyssal may choose to view either the first act of violence or the most recent
one. However, traces of violence fade over time, depending on the nature of the act:
• Physical altercations, minor scuffles, and the like can be detected linger for days.
• Acts of violence that cause significant physical harm or emotional trauma linger for weeks.
• Death or torture lingers for years.
• Battles, mass executions, and the like linger for decades.
• Acts that cause a shadowland to open linger indefinitely unless the shadowland is closed.

Mystery-Slaying Genius
Cost: —; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Phantom Justiciar Technique
The deathknight’s razor-keen reasoning exposes truths that others would rather stay buried.
The Abyssal doubles 8s on an Investigation roll.
Reset: Once per scene.

Unsurpassed Interrogation Method

Cost: 5m, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Deception-Piercing Stare
If love of justice will not sway the guilty, then fear of Death’s Lawgiver must suffice.
The Abyssal makes a special (Wits + Investigation) threaten roll to interrogate a character. If successful,
her target must answer one question truthfully and to fully, plus an additional question for each of her
extra successes. He can refuse to answer or give a false response by paying one Willpower per question.
If the Abyssal’s victim escapes her presence, he doesn’t have to answer any further questions. In combat,
enemies can refuse to answer without spending Willpower, but may still answer at the Storyteller’s
discretion, especially if they have a relevant Intimacy.
Reset: This Charm can only be used against a character once per session.

Heart-Haunting Condemnation
Cost: 7m, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Whispers of the Vengeful Dead
Those who defy the justice of Death’s Lawgiver must face the wrath of the dead, tormented by
accusing specters and dreams of chains.
The Abyssal makes a ([Charisma, Manipulation, or Wits] + Investigation) threaten roll, accusing someone
of a crime or wrongdoing and urging him to confess and face punishment, provide restitution to his
victims, or otherwise atone. She doubles 8s if she presents evidence of her claim, or doubles 7s if the
evidence is conclusively damning. If she beats his Resolve but he spends Willpower to resist this
influence, he’s cursed to face the Abyssal’s justice.
Each night, the cursed character is beset by haunting apparitions, eerie omens, and awful nightmares,
echoing the Abyssal’s accusations. Their psychological impact is represented by the deathknight
repeating her influence with another threaten roll, as above, which she can enhance with magic as usual.
Against mortals with Willpower less than or equal to the deathknight’s Essence and trivial characters, a
successful roll may result in them being haunted to death should the Abyssal wish it, found drained of
blood or entirely bleached of color.
This haunting counts as a sorcerous curse. It ends once the Abyssal has made a number of additional rolls
equal to her extra successes, minimum one.
With Essence 5, when the Abyssal uses Lingering Echoes of Anguish to witness a crime or wrongdoing
that offends one of her Defining Intimacies, she can use this Charm from afar, paying a thirteen-mote
surcharge. Her initial threaten roll is conveyed by a haunting manifestation, no matter where her target
may be. She can only do so once per story.
Reset: This Charm can only be used on a character once per story.

Shadow-Magistrate’s Eidolon
Cost: —(+4m or +9m); Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Lingering Echoes of Anguish
The shadows of the unseen world whisper secret truths to those who listen.
The Abyssal can pay a four-mote surcharge when she uses Lingering Echo Meditation to experience a
more lucid vision, reliving events from the perspective of the primary aggressor as if she had been there.
She can make Awareness and Investigation rolls to examine things, and can use magic to enhance these
rolls normally. She can also use Investigation Charms that make sense in this context, like Deception-
Piercing Stare, though she can’t use Simple Charms.
The Abyssal experiences the emotional state of the character whose perspective she adopts, though
gleaning any insight into his thoughts, motives, or memories requires a profile character roll against him
within the vision. She gains a Minor Intimacy chosen by her player based on whatever emotion the killer
felt.
Alternatively, the Abyssal may pay a nine-mote surcharge to reconstruct a vision of a non-violent event
with a case scene roll. There must be physical evidence of the event for her to examine, and she may
suffer a penalty from old, damaged, or misleading evidence. She can choose whose experience she
perceives the scene from.

Soul-Invading Glance
Cost: 7m, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 3
Type: Simple
Keywords: Mute, Psyche, Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Unsurpassed Interrogation Method
Death’s Lawgiver rips secrets from her suspect’s mind, battering down the doors to mind and
soul.
The Abyssal makes a special profile character roll to pull information from someone’s mind. If
successful, she can psychically interrogate them, as with Unsurpassed Interrogation Method. She can
choose to learn one of the target’s Intimacies instead of asking a question.
If the Abyssal succeeds, her victim can feel a malevolent presence intruding on his mind as she seeks out
information, but can’t identify her as the source. Once her interrogation is complete, his memory of it is
erased unless he spent Willpower to refuse at least one question.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers to ask an additional question. She can wait until after
using her other questions to do so.

Unworldly Insight Revelation

Cost: 3m; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Mute, Whispers
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Mystery-Slaying Genius
The Abyssal seems to know things she couldn’t possibly know, drawing inferences and making
deductions beyond mortal reason.
When the Abyssal succeeds on a case scene or profile character roll, she uncovers an additional clue for
each extra success. This won’t necessarily solve the entire mystery with one good roll — the clues she
receives should either involve the evidence she examines and how it relates to what she already knows, or
take the form of a lead on a person, place, or event around which Crime-Unveiling Wickedness would
lead to relevant information. If the Storyteller runs out of clues to give, the Abyssal’s player can propose
theories on these topics for him to confirm or deny instead.
Even if the Abyssal fails, she still uncovers a single clue.
Whispers: The Abyssal can invoke her Whispers to uncover an additional clue on a successful roll. She
can wait until after other clues have been revealed to do so.

Bleak Justice Malediction

Cost: —; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 4
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Heart-Haunting Condemnation
The deathknight’s terrible condemnation falls upon all who would lend aid to the guilty.
When the Abyssal uses Heart-Haunting Condemnation, she can commit its cost indefinitely, causing its
curse to slowly spread to everything the offender cares about. When he uses a Tie to an individual to
resist the haunting’s influence — either by raising his Resolve or in a Decision Point — the curse spreads
to the subject of the Intimacy. If the original roll beats the new victim’s Resolve, they’re cursed with dire
misfortunes and hauntings that makes clear that the offender is the cause of that character’s woes.
For example, if a swindler draws upon his Intimacy of love for his wife to deny his victims restitution
because their relationship rests on the opulent lifestyle he can afford her, his wife may be attacked as his
victims converge on their home to retake his ill-gotten wealth. Any who die due to the curse linger as
ghosts and haunt the offender as the cause of their misfortune.

Omniscient Spymaster’s Web

Cost: 12m, 1wp; Mins: Investigation 5, Essence 5
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Shadowed Informant Scrutiny, Soul-Invading Glance,
Unworldly Insight Revelation
The Abyssal has eyes everywhere and nowhere, seeing all things through her agents,
informants, and spies. How could any secret be kept from her?
The Abyssal’s player reveals information previously supplied to her by her contacts, spy network, or
other sources, rolling (Investigation + Investigation) to retroactively gather information on a case. This
provides clues based on her successes, as with Unworldly Insight Revelation, but she’s not limited by the
evidence available to her when determining what this can uncover.
The roll’s difficulty depends on the complexity of the Abyssal’s investigation and the evidence already
available to her. Ferreting out a kingdom-spanning conspiracy with no evidence at all would be difficulty
10+, but it might fall to difficulty 7 after initial investigations turn up a lead, or even to difficulty 3 if she
secures a major collaborator’s confession.
Reset: Once per story.

Larceny
Master Criminal Panache
Cost: —; Mins: Larceny 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal knows the ways of the ruthless and the desperate, effortlessly insinuating herself
into the criminal underworld.
The deathknight may reflexively invoke any of the following attitudes. Each can be leveraged with social
influence as though it were a Minor Tie.
Familiarity: Criminals perceive the deathknight as a fellow criminal, viewing her as a potential
accomplice to be recruited, a threat to their turf, or potentially as a member of their own organization.
Menace: The Abyssal exudes terror. Criminals and those who are frequently victimized by criminals
view her as a threat to be avoided — a serial killer, vigilante, or similar peril.
Receptivity: The Abyssal adapts the bearing of one open to illicit business. Characters seeking to solicit
illegal or seedy services perceive the Abyssal as the perfect procurer of whatever they wish to obtain,
while those offering such services perceive her as a desirable customer.
Vulnerability: The Abyssal chooses a specific crime. Characters intending to commit that crime will
view her as their ideal victim — charlatans see her as a guileless rube, thieves as a wealthy and inattentive
target, and so on.
Only one of these attitudes can be active at a time, but the Abyssal can change between them reflexively.

Ill-Gotten Plunder’s Provenance

Cost: 2m; Mins: Larceny 3, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Master Criminal Panache
Whether staked by force or cunning, the Abyssal’s claims of ownership are impossible to refute.
When the Abyssal makes an instill roll to convince someone that an object or structure belongs to her, her
target can’t use Intimacies to increase his Resolve against it or spend Willpower to resist unless her claim
directly contradicts something he knows to be true.

Inconspicuous Funeral Guest

Cost: —; Mins: Larceny 2, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Shrouded in subtle portents of the grave, the deathknight moves unnoticed through the herd of
the living.
The Abyssal can benefit from trappings of death even if they’re so subtle that noticing them — or their
morbid significance — requires a roll of up to difficulty 7. When a character makes such a roll, his 1s
subtract successes. Trivial characters fail automatically.
If the Abyssal uses a disguise to impersonate someone who’s already dead, she counts as wearing
trappings of death.
With Larceny 5, Essence 2, opposing rolls’ 2s also subtract successes.

Lock-Weathering Touch
Cost: 1m or 5m; Mins: Larceny 2, Essence 1
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal shatters whatever bars her way.
For five motes, the Abyssal destroys a mundane lock, manacle, or similar restraint with a touch, rusting it
to nothingness.
Against magically-enhanced locks, the Abyssal can pay one mote to double 9s and add (Essence)
successes, assuming she has appropriate tools. She bypasses the lock even on a failed roll — instead,
failure indicates an unfortunate development, such as a guard coming to investigate, her lockpicks
breaking, a trap being triggered, or similar.

Death Claims All

Cost: 3m; Mins: Larceny 2, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal’s thieving hands are unburdened by any concern for law or propriety, effortlessly
claiming trinkets and treasures.
When the deathknight rolls Larceny to steal an object that isn’t currently in use or an attuned artifact, she
adds (Essence) successes and succeeds automatically unless opposed by magic. This theft can’t be
detected without magic or superhuman senses, and such efforts still suffer a −4 penalty.
Against magic that automatically reveals the use of Larceny actions, like Crime-Unveiling Wickedness,
this Charm forces their user to make a (Perception + appropriate Ability) roll opposing the Abyssal’s roll
for the theft. Observers’ 1s and 2s subtract successes on this roll.
With a Larceny 4, Essence 2 repurchase, the Abyssal may pay a three-mote surcharge to render her theft
undetectable for (Essence) minutes, even if it’s done in plain sight. This ends prematurely if a character
directly notices the stolen object’s absence, such as a messenger attempting to deliver a missing scroll.

Rapacious Wraith’s Grasp

Cost: 4m; Mins: Larceny 2, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Death Claims All
Reaching through silence and shadow, the deathknight harries her foes.
The Abyssal makes an unarmed disarm or distract gambit with (Dexterity + Larceny). This can also be
used to make custom gambits that benefit from diversion and legerdemain. If the gambit succeeds, the
Abyssal’s victim loses Initiative equal to the gambit’s cost. If this crashes him, the deathknight gains the
lost Initiative in addition to receiving an Initiative Break.
If the deathknight knows Reality-Subverting Gesture, she can use it to make a gambit at short range and
double 9s on the attack roll.

Iniquitous Verdict Assurance

Cost: 3m; Mins: Larceny 2, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
Elusive as a specter, the Abyssal consigns all evidence of her misdeeds to the shadows.
The deathknight adds (Essence) successes and doubles 9s on a conceal evidence roll. Investigation rolls to
detect the hidden evidence fail automatically unless enhanced by magic or superhuman senses.

False Heart Mien

Cost: 6m; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 1
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: One day
Prerequisite Charms: None
A master of disguise, the Abyssal moves unnoticed among the living.
The Abyssal adds two successes and doubles 9s on a disguise roll, and ignores penalties for disguising
herself as someone of a different race or gender. Additionally, her disguise can include increasing or
reducing her height by 10 inches, increasing or decreasing her weight by up to 10%, changing her
apparent age, and altering her voice or accent.
Rolls opposing the Abyssal’s disguise fail automatically unless enhanced by magic, and even magically
enhanced attempts suffer a −2 success penalty. Even a successful roll opposing the disguise doesn’t reveal
the Abyssal’s identity or appearance, only that she is not who she appears to be.

Red-Handed Villain Artistry

Cost: 2m, 1wp; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Iniquitous Verdict Assurance
The Abyssal leaves a macabre signature for investigators, whether a grisly message written in
blood or a rose left in place of stolen treasures, stirring both revulsion and obsession.
When the Abyssal leaves behind a message, calling card, or other distinctive signature as part of a conceal
evidence roll, she adds (Charisma or Manipulation) dice. Her roll also counts as an influence roll against
anyone who cases the scene. By default, this can either be a threaten roll or an instill roll to create Ties of
obsession, hatred, or morbid fascination with the crime’s perpetrator, but the Storyteller can allow other
rolls that fit the deathknight’s crime scene.
If an investigator’s Resolve is beaten by the Abyssal’s influence, his case scene roll suffers a penalty
equal to her threshold successes, minimum (Abyssal’s Essence), and his 1s subtract successes, even if he
spends Willpower to resist. Failure represents the target being so fixated on the Abyssal’s grisly signature
or his preconceptions about the suspect that he overlooks actual evidence.

Villainous Mastermind’s Foresight

Cost: 6m, 1wp; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 2
Type: Simple
Keywords: None
Duration: Indefinite
Prerequisite Charms: Red-Handed Villain Artistry
The ever-thoughtful criminal, Death’s Lawgiver remains three steps ahead of rivals and
investigators.
After a scene spent making preparations, the deathknight rolls (Intelligence + Larceny), banking
contingency points equal to her successes. She might prepare by casing a building, stealing useful
information, forging credentials, bribing local law enforcement, laying groundwork for an alibi, or the
like.
The Abyssal may spend contingency points on the following effects reflexively:
3 points: Waive Red-Handed Villain Artistry’s cost.
3 points: Retroactively reveal exceptional equipment (Exalted, p. 580) for a specific Larceny action
(lockpicking, disguise, etc.) on the deathknight’s person.
3 points: Make a conceal evidence roll retroactively to conceal a piece of evidence. The Abyssal can use
magic to enhance this roll as usual. The contingency point cost to use Inescapable Burden of Guilt or
Red-Handed Villain Artistry on the roll is reduced by two points each.
4 points: Waive Inescapable Burden of Guilt’s cost.
5 points: Gain +2 Guile or Resolve for one scene.
5 points: Reduce Insidious Shade Infiltration’s cost by five motes.
7 points: Retroactively erase a small piece of evidence, making it impossible to detect or uncover by any
means.
7 points: Waive Face-Changing Sleight’s cost.
The Abyssal must know any Charms enhanced with Villainous Mastermind’s Foresight.

Inescapable Burden of Guilt

Cost: 3m, 1wp; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Red-Handed Villain Artistry
The Abyssal frames another for her wicked deeds, consigning the innocent to the magistrate’s
judgment and the gallows’ finality.
When the Abyssal makes a conceal evidence roll, she arranges the scene such that the evidence appears to
implicate a specific character she’s aware of, rather than the actual culprit. An investigator who fails his
case scene roll believes he’s succeeded, but receives a false clue that points him towards the framed
character. Even a successful roll turns up the false clue the Abyssal planted in addition to the actual
evidence. A successful investigator is aware of the discrepancy, but not of which piece of evidence is true.

Unjust Appropriation Method

Cost: 5m; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Ill-Gotten Plunder’s Provenance
All things belong to death; the Abyssal merely hastens its inevitable claim.
After successfully stealing an object from someone, the Abyssal makes a special (Manipulation +
Larceny) instill roll against him. If successful, the target believes that the object belongs to the Abyssal,
and always has. He can resist for one Willpower, but must wait at least (Abyssal’s Essence) minutes to do
so, giving her time to flee the scene.

Vanisher’s Subtle Hand

Cost: 1m; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 2
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: Stackable
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Death Claims All (x2)
The Abyssal secrets away the tools of her iniquitous trade and the spoils she’s reaped thereby.
The deathknight conceals an object small enough to hide in one hand somewhere on her person. It’s
impossible for other characters to notice until she retrieves it. She can stack this Charm to banish up to
five objects.

Flawless Doppelganger Disguise

Cost: —(5m, 1wp); Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: False Heart Mien
The Abyssal is a thief of faces, concealing her dark nature behind another’s visage.
The Abyssal can use False Heart Mien for five motes, one Willpower to add an additional (Essence) non-
Charm successes on the disguise roll and waive the penalty for impersonating specific characters or
altering her body type beyond that Charm’s normal limits.
Even characters using magic can’t roll to contest the deathknight’s disguise unless she acts grossly out of
character, and they suffer an additional −4 penalty. This increases to −5 if they have previously failed a
roll against that disguise.
Additionally, the Abyssal’s disguise can alter the appearance of her anima banner and Caste Mark to
imitate other types of Exalt and manifest supernatural sensory displays, such as the lightning that crackles
around a storm god or the eerie chill that attends the presence of a dread specter.

Reality-Subverting Gesture
Cost: 1wp; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 2
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Death Claims All (x2)
The Abyssal’s phantasmal grasp reaches through the veil to seize her prize.
The deathknight doubles 9s on a roll to pickpocket or steal an item, and can call stolen items to her hand
from up to (Essence x3) feet away, or short range in combat. Such objects vanish instantly into her hand
without crossing the space between them, undeterred by any obstacles.

Thieving Entropy Feint

Cost: —(+1wp); Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 2
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Clash, Decisive-only
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Rapacious Wraith’s Grasp
The deathknight’s skillful fingerwork deprives her attacker of grace and skill.
The Abyssal can use Rapacious Wraith’s Grasp reflexively to clash a decisive attack for a one-Willpower
surcharge.

Insidious Shade Infiltration

Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Larceny 4, Essence 3
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Lock-Weathering Touch
The Abyssal moves as a shadow, seeping through the barred gates that protect the living from
horrors such as her.
The Abyssal moves through a doorway, window, portcullis, grate, or similar opening as if it wasn’t there.
In combat, this uses a reflexive move action.
With an Essence 4 repurchase, the Abyssal can use this Charm to pass through any barrier, not just doors
and similar openings. If she uses it on multiple consecutive turns, she waives the Willpower cost of all
uses past the first. Obstructions that span more than a single range band, like a fortified city’s walls,
requires multiple uses of this Charm, one for each range band. While moving through such obstructions,
the deathknight gains the benefits of full cover (Exalted, p. 199), though appropriate magic or stunts
might circumvent this. If she doesn’t renew this Charm at the start of her turn while doing so, she’s
ejected from the barrier at the point she entered it.

Chains Cannot Hold

Cost: —; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Insidious Shade Infiltration
The Abyssal’s soul is a chained and tortured thing, breeding contempt for any lesser restraint.
The Abyssal can use Insidious Shade Infiltration to escape restraints, like being tied up or manacled to a
wall. While grappled, she can use it reflexively to roll (Wits + Larceny) at a difficulty of her enemy’s
current rounds of control. Success frees her from the grapple. If she fails, she can’t use it again for the rest
of that grapple.

Cunning Hindsight Reveal

Cost: —; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Villainous Mastermind’s Foresight
Patient as death and cunning as night, the Abyssal schemer is never caught without a plan.
The Abyssal can use Villainous Mastermind’s Foresight reflexively without need for a planning scene,
revealing a scheme already in motion. She adds a free full Excellency on the roll and mutes all motes
spent on it.
Reset: Once per story unless the Abyssal’s plan faces a significant setback or obstacle from an
unexpected obstacle.

Flickering Shadow Masquerade

Cost: 10m, 1wp; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 3
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Mute
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: False Heart Mien
The Abyssal shrouds herself in falsehoods with but a gesture, changing faces between blinks of
an eye.
The Abyssal completes a disguise roll instantly.
If the Abyssal uses this Charm together with a non-Excellency Larceny Charm, she waives this Charm’s
Willpower cost.

Relics Justly Claimed

Cost: —(+3m); Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 3
Type: Permanent
Keywords: Decisive-only
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: Thieving Entropy Feint
The deathknight’s elusive grasp claims wrests away her foe’s treasures, looting barrow-relics
from their soon-to-be tomb.
The Abyssal gains the following benefits when she uses Rapacious Wraith’s Grasp:
• She can pay a three-mote surcharge to use it reflexively on her turn, without it counting for the
attack for the round. She can only do so once per turn.
• She doubles 9s on the Initiative roll.
• If she succeeds on a disarm gambit against an enemy within close range, she can reflexively
ready the weapon if she has a free hand. If it’s an artifact, she automatically breaks its former wielder’s
attunement and can choose to attune it herself.

Phantom Thief Perfection

Cost: 5m; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Until next turn
Prerequisite Charms: Flawless Doppelganger Disguise, Insidious Shade Infiltration,
Reality-Subverting Gesture, Villainous Mastermind’s Foresight
The Abyssal master thief seizes every distraction to work her wickedness unseen.
The Abyssal can use this after a Perception roll opposing her Larceny. 1s and 2s on opposing rolls
subtract successes — not just on that roll, but on all opposing rolls made against the Abyssal for this
Charm’s duration. This includes rolls made at the same time by other characters. The penalty stacks up to
a maximum of (higher of Essence or 3) successes.

Death-Cheating Deception
Cost: 1wp; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 5
Type: Reflexive
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Phantom Thief Perfection
Having cheated death once, it is a small matter to do so again.
The Abyssal can use this Charm when she’s incapacitated or would suffer death for any reason. Any
damage that would fill her Incapacitated health level is negated, as are other fatal effects. Her anima fades
to dim, and she immediately joins battle with (Wits + Larceny), ignoring her wound penalty, and gains a
pool of motes equal to twice her successes. These motes can only be spent on Dodge, Larceny, and
Stealth Charms to aid in avoiding or escaping the present danger, and are lost if not spent by the end of
the scene.
This also counts as a roll to enter concealment if the Abyssal’s current location affords her a suitable
hiding spot, or if there’s one within close range. If it’s the latter, the Abyssal reflexively moves to it,
without using her movement action. Onlookers who she hides from are convinced that they saw her die.
Reset: Once per story.

Unseen Midnight Mastermind

Cost: —; Mins: Larceny 5, Essence 5
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: None
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: Phantom Thief Perfection
Having attained the pinnacle of the thief’s art, the deathknight eliminates all that might give
away her schemes.
The Abyssal invokes a free full Larceny Excellency and mutes any motes spent on the enhanced roll.
Reset: Once per scene.

Linguistics
Scathing Cynic Attitude
Cost: —; Mins: Linguistics 1, Essence 1
Type: Permanent
Keywords: None
Duration: Permanent
Prerequisite Charms: None
Merciless in her criticisms, the Abyssal dismisses the words of lesser authors and orators.
The Abyssal can calculate her Resolve with ([Intelligence, Perception, or Wits] + Linguistics) against
effects conveyed through language — spoken, written, or otherwise. She gains +1 non-Charm Resolve
against written influence.

Blood Quill Calligraphy

Cost: 4m; Mins: Linguistics 2, Essence 1
Type: Supplemental
Keywords: Written-only
Duration: Instant
Prerequisite Charms: None
The Abyssal poet’s blood serves as ink, her finger more deft than any quill.
The Abyssal can write without ink or implements, using her finger like a stylus to scribe words in her
own blood. This adds (Essence) automatic successes on written threaten rolls and other fear-based
influence. Ties of fear to the undead and Principles expressing a negative outlook on death always
penalize character’s Resolve against it.
With Linguistics 5, the Abyssal’s writing is unaffected by the passage of time, weather, and similar
causes of damage or degradation, as does whatever surface it’s written upon. It bleeds through attempts to
cover it up. It can only be removed by a character’s direct efforts; actions to do so have a minimum
difficulty of