Epistle Nocturnis

Sigil: A large ring with a smaller ring inside; both being broken vertically by a jagged spike.

The industrial necroplex of Nocturnis is both the breadbasket and primary energy source for the scarlet continent. It boasts a massive undead population whose endless toil affords the nation endless luxury. It claims the Nocturnian Power Core, the nation’s namesake, as its golden birthrite.

Nocturnian architecture favors stone and metal spires that rise upwards into the ever present smog of the undead capital. The eldest spires stand aged and foreboding, covered with glowing dull purple arcane glyphs. These spire complexes house thousands and often a single spire will be devoted to one company complete with dwellings for all of its employees. The wealthy live at the tops of the spires, where the stone and metal breach the smog layer choking the nation capital.

Nocturnis’s old city was originally a massive walking battle fortress, crewed by thousands, powered by a prototype arcane energy turbine. After it suffered major damage the crew permanently parked it along the shore to cool its overheating systems. Over the ensuing ages a city was built upon the ruined machine’s superstructure. A calamity befell the city; the arcane turbine detonated and slew most of the city’s population. From the wreckage of that original settlement the first wave of undead citizens arose and the turbine transformed into the necrotic Power Core.

The city is under perpetual lavender illumination from the countless numbers of power runes lining the city’s spires and streets. The endless toil of the city refineries have left the capital blanketed in a thick industrial smog for millennia. The ground is infertile within the capital, the rain that falls is muddy with soot. In the center of the capital lies the Power Core. The relic is situated inside an enormous crater that slowly slopes downward before plateauing in the center some hundred feet down. The area is plain and undecorated around the core, anything built near its pulsing energy is slowly weathered away.

Nocturnis has hot running water and magically illuminated, environmentally controlled dwellings. It has a dedicated wayfarer guild to magically transport materials in and out of the nation. Dozens of spires act as airship docks and the bay houses a docking system for merchant ships. Hundreds of warehouse sized Phaustian ore refineries are scattered throughout the city, pumping black smoke and smelting down commodities mined from the city’s undercity and mountain range.

As one leaves the valley of spires and reaches the perimeter of the city a vast expanse of farmland lies, ever tilled by the walking dead. Nocturnis exports the most grain and grown food on the continent. Several churches of Foo and Simune soothe the land near the capital to allow for growth and prosperity so near the influence of the Power Core and the millions of undead that live within Nocturnis.

Nocturnis focuses its arcane colleges in pursuing discoveries that allow more efficient storage and transportation of the arcane energy drawn from the Power Core. Generations of apprentices being taught ancient secrets by a think tank of the best and brightest scholars whose experience span thousands of years.

The social classes of Nocturnis are separated into a living commoner caste and an undead nobility. Commoners live in relative luxury thanks to project funding from the Scarlet Empire. While the living work and raise families the dead lead lives of unending activity. Plays that last for days, balls that go on for weeks and parties that truly never end are the staples of nobility in Nocturnis. Many of the elder citizens of Nocturnis are crippled by the ennui of eternity. To this end exotic arts, culture novelties and entrainment are imported into the city to help spark the minds of those caught in deep languor. The everpresent smog of Nocturnis is intentionally cultivated and strengthened so that the sun never touches the majority of the capital; protecting many of it’s undead citizens from the ravages of daylight. Citizens who do not wish to live on as intelligent undead after death can elect to prematurely sell there bodies to be used by the city. Such mindless undead are used primarily for labor, tilling the vast farmlands of Nocturnis forever. Others are kept on retainer as foot soldiers within vast underground storage silos.

Fashion in Nocturnis is patterned after the crew of the original war machine. Uniform styled suits and dresses are popular, as are work overalls and mechanic jumpsuits for laborers. In ages past the hell lord known as the Hopeless King used Nocturnis as a puppet state in his plans to butcher the world. When posing as the human Nocturnian king he would often wear round framed, ruby lens eye glasses; despite its origin, this style of glasses are still a popular accessory for Nocturnian citizens.

Nocturnis is run by a group of merchants known as the Cemetery Consortium who are the heads of the various industries within the nation. It regulates the completion of projects the nation takes on for the Scarlet Empire in the preparations for the war against hell. Currently there is a power struggle as a wraith queen from the arctic known as the Sorceress has risen to prominence within the nobility of Nocturnis. She advocates the independence of Nocturnis from the Scarlet Empire’s many war projects.

Epistle Nocturnis

The Evicting Epistle Invictus