TEXT: Cities of Sundara
  Moüd
  Azukail
  Games
  
  I
  Cities of Sundara: Moüd
  Credits
  Design: Neal Litherland
  Editing and Layout: Adrian Kennelly
  Page Backgrounds: Figu Design
  Images: Jeff Brown, some artwork © 2015 Dean Spencer, used with permission, all 
  rights reserved, some artwork copyright William McAusland, used with permission, Pub-
  lisher’s Choice Quality Stockart © Rick Hershey/Fat Goblin Games.
  Map: Watabou
  Published by Azukail Games, a trading style of eGDC Ltd
  Copyright Information
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  II
  Table of Contents
  What is “Cities of Sundara”?  
  1
  Journey to Moüd  
  2
  Moüd: The City of Bones 
   
  3
  History 
   
  3
  Dreams of a Dead City 
  3
  The Undying Roads 
  4
  The Secrets in the Sands 
  5
  The Lost City Found Once More 
  6
  The Dead City Reborn 
  7
  The Silver Wraiths, and Guild Law  
  8
  The Silver Orders 
  9
  A Buried Secret 
   
  9
  Gazetteer  
  11
  North District 
  11
  Noteworthy Locations 
  11
  Persons of Interest 
  12
  Whispers and Rumors 
  12
  Elmbarrow 
  13
  Noteworthy Locations 
  13
  Persons of Interest 
  13
  Whispers and Rumors 
  14
  Lighthall 
   
  14
  Noteworthy Locations 
  15
  Persons of Interest 
  15
  Whispers and Rumors 
  16
  West Gate  
  16
  Noteworthy Locations 
  17
  Persons of Interest 
  17
  Whispers and Rumors 
  18
  The Outer District 
  18
  Notable Locations 
  18
  Persons of Interest 
  19
  Whispers and Rumors 
  19
  Alternative System: Necromantic Taint 
   
  20
  Removing Necromantic Taint 
  20
  Long-Term Effects of Necromantic Taint 
  21
  New Player Species: Half-Dead 
   
  21
  Physical Description 
  21
  Species Traits 
  22
  Defensive Traits 
  22
  Magical Traits 
  22
  Senses Traits 
  22
  Variant Heritages 
  22
  Ranger Archetype: Deathstalker 
   
  23
  New Magic Item  
  24
  Silver Wraith Guild Ring 
  24
  New Spell  
  24
  Repair Undead 
  24
  More 5th Edition Compatible Supplements 
   
  26
  Links  
  26
  Moüd Map  
  27
  
  1
  What is “Cities of Sundara”?
  In fantasy tabletop roleplaying games there is a tendency for settings to constant-
  ly be looking backward to a lost golden age, or a time of legend where great feats of 
  magic and the techniques for creating potent items of power have been lost. Whether 
  this downfall comes as a result of an apocalyptic event, societal collapse, destruction 
  of knowledge or some combination thereof, players often find themselves struggling 
  through a world that, for all its wonders, is not what it once was.
  Sundara: Dawn of a New Age takes the opposite approach.
  The world of Sundara has all of the monsters, magic, dangers and hardships you would 
  expect in a fantasy RPG. However, the people of Sundara tend to look for the other side 
  of the coin, harnessing the raw forces of their world in order to overcome trials and trib-
  ulations in strange, unexpected ways. Through discovery, industry, understanding and 
  sheer grit, the people of Sundara are boldly stepping forward to master the world around 
  them.
  “Cities of Sundara” offers game masters and players alike a peek into this world. By 
  visiting unique locations across the setting, it gives you a taste of what life is like in this 
  setting. Not only that, but you can choose to use the cities in their original setting, or in-
  corporate them into your own. Each supplement will also include resources such as new 
  materials for weapons and armor, new creature types, as well as new weapons, magic 
  items and more to enhance your game!
  As the setting grows, even more elements will be included. So come, step out into the 
  dawn of a new age with us, and revel in all the fresh possibilities that Sundara has to 
  offer!
  
  2
  Journey to Moüd
  The desert wind howled beyond the walls of the stranded wagons. Ceravil had her hood 
  pulled low, and a cloth wrapped around her mouth and nose to keep the gusts of sand 
  out. Argor had a blanket around his shoulders, and his head down. They’d been stranded 
  for days now, buried by the wind and sand up to the broken axle that had left them in 
  such dire straits. The ox had died, its leg snapping when it stumbled, and they’d had to 
  put it out of its agony quickly. Accusations had been thrown, arguments had started and 
  fears vented... now they sat in tired silence waiting to see if the desert would devour 
  them or not.
  Then they heard it; a rhythmic thumping sound. It was far away at first, but it grew 
  steadily closer. It was joined by the creak of hawsers, and the shushing of sand skids. 
  Argor kept his head down, but Ceravil’s ears all but twitched as she listened... and 
  hoped. The sounds stopped close enough that the sand shifted, and made the broken 
  down wagon lurch. Ceravil loosened the knot on the back flap, and stepped out into the 
  blowing storm.
  Something loomed nearby; a shrouded form that towered over the wagon. It was 
  wrapped in black cloth, but white tusks protruded from its skull. Beneath the head, a 
  flap shifted. A man in a gray cloak looked down at Ceravil, seated on a pillowed bench 
  resting in the colossal creature’s rib cage.
  “How many are you?” he yelled over the howling winds.
  “Two,” Ceravil shouted back.
  “No beasts?” the driver asked, holding back the flap as the wind tried to snap it. The sil-
  ver skull on his hand gleamed, even in the dimness of the sand storm.
  “No!” Ceravil said, shaking her head hard.
  “There’s room,” the drover said, gesturing over his shoulder at the train of wooden wag-
  ons on sand skids. “Be quick! If we stop for too long even Milara won’t be able to pull us 
  out!”
  Ceravil nodded, and ran back to her wagon, stumbling in the storm. Argor was on his 
  feet, his eyes shining with hope.
  “Grab the strongbox,” Ceravil snarled at him. “And the hesh bag. The Wraiths will want 
  their due when we get where we’re going.”
  Argor looked like he wanted to spit, but he kept his words behind his teeth. He snatched 
  up the heavy leather satchel, and kicked the secret panel of the wagon open. He pulled 
  out the strongbox, and the small parcels of valuable goods they’d squirreled away. 
  The necromancers of Moüd would get their gold, and with a little luck they’d still have 
  enough left to turn this disaster in a profit in the City of Bones.
  
  3
  Moüd: The City of Bones
  Seen through the haze of rising heat from 
  the empty sands of the Trackless Quarter, 
  Moüd looks like something out of a fevered 
  mirage. Granite walls rise from the sand 
  like half-buried bones, with bright flecks 
  in the stone winking and glimmering in 
  the sun. Behind those walls rear towers 
  and obelisks that look like something out 
  of a legendary necropolis, and which have 
  weathered over a thousand years of the 
  desert’s furies.
  Those who enter Moüd’s gates find a city 
  of contrasts. It bustles with life, but it is 
  built on the foundation of the dead. It is 
  an ancient place, but it is also filled with 
  the ideas, trade and commerce of the 
  modern day. It is a city that for years only 
  existed in myths and legends, but it has 
  once again been found, and dug out from 
  beneath the sands of time. It was once a 
  place forbidden by tradition and edict of 
  those who knew about it, and now it once 
  again holds a place of prominence as a city 
  of trade and travel.
  History
  Though Moüd has existed for over a thou-
  sand years, the city was lost to myth and 
  legend centuries ago when a great disas-
  ter fell onto its people. A time capsule of 
  lost culture, language and architecture, it 
  has since been reborn as a center of com-
  merce, education and transit through the 
  empty waste of the Trackless Quarter.
  Dreams of a Dead City
  The re-discovery of Moüd was not an ac-
  cident of the shifting desert sands, or the 
  culmination of some great adventure; 
  instead, it began with a young man named 
  Malik. Born to the Dorunna people who 
  lived a nomadic life outside the rim of the 
  Trackless Quarter, Malik grew up listen-
  ing to the tales and lessons of the elders. 
  While he committed many of the old stories 
  to memory, the one that dug its fingers 
  into him and refused to let go was the city 
  of the waking dead, and the creature who 
  supposedly ruled it from the underworld 
  below.
  
  4
  Though the stories told of the Undying 
  Prince seated upon his terrible throne 
  haunted Malik, he couldn’t banish them 
  from his mind. He had too many questions, 
  like who had laid the black roads that sup-
  posedly lead to the city, and why there 
  were times it could be found and others it 
  could not. Why some people who suppos-
  edly made their way there returned again 
  with strange, ancient treasures, and why 
  others were trapped behind its walls forev-
  er. He was admonished by the elders sev-
  eral times, but it wasn’t until Kerrick, the 
  old woman who’d first told him the tale, 
  cautioned him against speaking of the dead 
  city that Malik was given a reason for the 
  reluctance others showed to talk about the 
  place. They did not speak the city’s name 
  for the same reason they would not call the 
  Undying Prince by his true title... if their 
  names were spoken, they would reach out 
  to the mind of the speaker and try to lead 
  them deep into the Trackless Quarter, and 
  into the gates of that forbidden place.
  Malik didn’t believe that part of the tale; 
  not until he started to see the city of the 
  waking dead in his dreams. He was reluc-
  tant to tell the elders of this, at first. He 
  was afraid they would shake their heads, 
  and say he was just a boy with an overac-
  tive imagination. As the dreams returned 
  again and again, coming in greater detail, 
  Malik found himself wandering out toward 
  the Trackless Quarter in his sleep; drawn to 
  it like a lodestone drew iron filings. When 
  he could no longer hide what was happen-
  ing, he was taken before the elders. Malik 
  tried to tell them what he’d seen, but they 
  silenced him. He was cast out from his 
  people, cut off the way one might remove 
  a gangrenous finger to save the rest of the 
  body before the infection could spread.
  The Undying Roads
  Outcast from his people, most expected 
  Malik to either die, or to be pulled into the 
  heart of the city of the waking dead nev-
  er to return. Which fate was worse none 
  seemed to know. Through grit, guile and 
  ingenuity, though, Malik managed to resist 
  the pull of his dreams for years. He teth-
  ered himself to heavy stones, and chained 
  his waist around trees. Most nights he 
  awoke where he’d fallen asleep, but even 
  on nights he wandered he never had much 
  of the night left by the time he unwound 
  himself from whatever trap he’d slept in.
  Malik knew he would be drawn to the city 
  sooner or later, and if he expected to sur-
  vive, he would need to know everything 
  he could about it. He wandered among 
  those who lived in the great desert, trad-
  ing stories and knowledge for hospitality. 
  And while many claimed they had never 
  heard of the place Malik mentioned, oth-
  ers told him tales in hushed whispers. The 
  Dunkari nomads, a people who were said 
  to drink blood instead of water amid the 
  arid wastes of their home, called the place 
  Narunaida. It was the gate to hell, they 
  said, and the dead screamed as it dragged 
  them down. The pilgrims of the Breath of 
  Dawn called the city Mithavuril, and they 
  believed that it was the place where souls 
  gathered during the darkness of the night 
  before being called home to the sun. Ma-
  lik even traveled to the port city of Pala-
  vashta, and in the great library he found 
  the fragmented tales of the extinct people 
  called the Kakanaru. They said the city, 
  whose name was lost from the record, had 
  once been a place of wisdom and learn-
  ing. But their ambition had outstripped 
  their control, and corruption ran rampant 
  through the city. They referred to it only as 
  the home of the eaters of the dead.
  While these myths and tales were all dif-
  ferent, each of them spoke of a forgotten 
  city standing in the midst of the Trackless 
  Quarter, a place that was often hidden 
  from sight in the dry, lifeless waste, and 
  in most stories, this place was found by 
  a lone wanderer who stumbled across a 
  smooth, black road that seemed to spring 
  out of the sands.
  
  5
  After several years of learning everything 
  he could, Malik finally made preparations 
  to set out into the Trackless Quarter from 
  the coast. He acquired provisions, bartered 
  water and traded the gold and amber rings 
  in his ears for a small satchel of dusty 
  scrolls and a wand of scrimshawed bone 
  that practically hummed with the potent 
  energy harnessed in their arcane patterns. 
  The night before he set out into the desert 
  was the first time in nearly twenty years 
  Malik slept without dreams. Whatever force 
  that lived in the blasted waste knew he 
  was coming, and it wanted him rested for 
  the journey he’d resisted for so long.
  The Secrets in the Sands
  Malik’s journey into the Trackless Quarter 
  was fraught with peril, but he had survived 
  the worst the desert could throw at an 
  outcast. He traveled with a caravan to the 
  Sunfire Oasis, and then 
  turned his steps south. His 
  journey led him through 
  smaller and smaller wa-
  tering holes, with the hard 
  pan and cracked arroyos 
  falling behind to reveal 
  the true emptiness of the 
  cursed desert beyond. Ma-
  lik traded his stout pony 
  for three extra water bags 
  at the place called the 
  Weeping Crevice, where 
  hot water that tasted 
  strongly of alkali trickled 
  from a cleft in a carved 
  statue’s face. This left him nothing but his 
  riding camel, and what the two of them 
  had the strength to carry. The nomads who 
  took his pack horse thought him mad, and 
  gave him a small loaf of flat bread wrapped 
  in cloth as an offering to whatever gods 
  had touched him.
  It was nearly two months before another 
  living person saw Malik.
  The young man had been changed by what 
  he’d seen out in the wastes. The hale, 
  hearty, handsome figure who had first 
  ridden out into the desert was nearly un-
  recognizable. His face was haggard and 
  gaunt, with the skin practically hanging 
  off of his sharp cheekbones. Several of his 
  teeth had gone loose in their sockets, and 
  one of his eyes no longer worked proper-
  ly; the dark pupil always opened wide and 
  staring at the world. His hair, once thick 
  and black, had fallen out in large patches... 
  and where it hadn’t fallen out it had gone a 
  sickly gray.
  When Malik came to the chapter house of 
  the Silver Wraiths in Kalcuth, he was at 
  first mistaken for a beggar. When the po-
  tent taint of necromancy that exuded from 
  him set off a warning, one of the guild’s 
  necromancers was summoned. Malik was 
  escorted to a securely warded chamber, 
  and kept under guard until he could be 
  seen to. He sat, slumped 
  over and exhausted, until 
  the door was opened by a 
  tall, angular woman with 
  the tight lips and suspi-
  cious eyes of a school-
  teacher. Even through 
  the protective magics 
  of her guild symbol, the 
  silver skull ring worn on 
  her right hand, Hezvarda 
  Sinde could feel the aura 
  baking off of Malik. It 
  should have been enough 
  to kill him, but somehow, 
  he was not only still alive, 
  but he was awake, alert and though a little 
  wild-eyed, seemed sane enough.
  The necromancer had barely seated her-
  self when Malik began his tale. He told her 
  how he’d walked into the Trackless Quarter, 
  going mile after mile under his camel had 
  died under him. He told her about a black 
  road of aged, time-worn stone that led him 
  to the gates of a huge, silent city. He spoke 
  of half-fallen towers, sand swept streets, 
  and of a huge mausoleum that led to the 
  
  6
  tunnels beneath the city. He spoke of crea-
  tures with mouths full of fangs and fingers 
  that were little more than bony claws, and 
  of huge figures armored in black, their fac-
  es hidden behind fine, steel veils. He spoke 
  of a strange figure of rotted majesty, seat-
  ed upon a throne that pulsed with pow-
  er. He couldn’t understand the words the 
  figure spoke, but he knew their meaning. 
  Time was short, and he had to bring help. 
  Then the escorts in black led him back to 
  the surface, and saw him out of the gates 
  once more. He had followed the road un-
  til it vanished, and then retraced his steps 
  until he once more found an oasis. He was 
  allowed to drink, and given a horse, but 
  the experience had marked him among 
  the desert folk. None approached him, and 
  many were afraid to even look upon him.
  Before Hezvarda could so much as open 
  her mouth, Malik reached beneath his 
  ragged robe and placed something upon 
  the table. When he took his black-nailed 
  fingers away, he revealed a silver ring of 
  ancient design. It was heavy, twisted in 
  upon itself, and it bore a sigil that had not 
  graced a banner or seal in centuries.
  It was the signet ring of the House of 
  Tharne, the last rules of the ancient city of 
  Moüd.
  The Lost City Found Once More
  The true name of the forgotten city that 
  sat in the middle of the Trackless Quarter, 
  the name removed by all the legends and 
  myths that had sprung up over the cen-
  turies, was known to the Silver Wraiths. 
  While there was little information about the 
  fall of the city, or what had become of it in 
  subsequent years, the state even a short 
  visit had left Malik in spoke of the kinds of 
  energies that had been unleashed within 
  it. The guild was perhaps the best qualified 
  to deal with that level of necromantic taint, 
  but it would be an undertaking of massive 
  proportions that would require the full skill 
  and resources of the guild as a whole.
  If even a fraction of what Malik claimed 
  he saw was waiting beneath the sands, 
  though, it would be a more than worth-
  while endeavor.
  The decision was made, and in less than 
  a fortnight the gray-robed guild was mar-
  shaling its forces. Practitioners were re-
  called from other cities, caches of material 
  components were readied for travel, and 
  the ossuaries maintained by the guild were 
  opened. Skeletons were carefully wrapped 
  and prepared, along with the tools, weap-
  ons, and armor they would need to fulfill 
  their purpose. Large sand wagons, which 
  ran on skids rather than wheels, were 
  prepared to transport the guild members 
  and supplies. Members of the Deathstalk-
  ers, the elite martial members of the guild 
  whose steel often succeeded where a spell 
  had failed, were assigned to the expedi-
  tion. Perhaps most impressively, the guild 
  also assembled the bones of elephants that 
  had been carefully preserved and carved 
  with whorls of eldritch symbols. For it was 
  these huge pachyderms that would allow 
  the guild to follow in Malik’s footsteps into 
  the dead miles of the Trackless Quarter.
  Lastly, the guild brought Malik. For though 
  he had been permanently changed by his 
  experience in the city, he was still the only 
  living person to have seen what lay inside 
  Moüd and escape to tell the tale in genera-
  tions.
  The journey was not an easy one. Dust 
  devils blew, obscuring distance and direc-
  tion. Oases closed themselves off, mis-
  trusting the strangers and their unsettling 
  entourage. They were stalked by creatures 
  who considered the dunes their territo-
  ry, kept safe only due to the perimeter 
  of undying guardians. The operation sent 
  back word to the guild house regularly, 
  releasing trained ravens to carry word of 
  the distance and direction they’d traveled. 
  They also drove huge poles deep into the 
  ground, letting a black pennant fly from 
  
  7
  the top to mark their progress.
  Moüd was just how Malik had left it... but 
  the signs of danger he had not been able 
  to see were clear to the guild’s practi-
  tioners. The walls had been carved with 
  protective sigils, but time and the elements 
  had eaten holes in the wards, and it didn’t 
  take the Silver Wraiths long to realize why 
  Moüd had been abandoned; the place ra-
  diated necromantic energy. The invisible 
  taint spilling from Moüd energized the 
  necromancers’ undead escorts, and pro-
  vided an easy well of power for them to 
  draw on... but it would kill anything living 
  trapped behind those walls in days. While 
  the Silver Wraiths had the knowledge to 
  contain the energy and cleanse the city, an 
  undertaking of that size would take time. 
  Time, and a great deal of sustained effort; 
  assuming they could find the source the 
  taint was spilling from.
  The Dead City Reborn
  It took weeks for the Silver Wraiths to es-
  tablish a firm foothold around Moüd. The 
  necromancers first repaired the ancient 
  sigils, and laid addition-
  al protections around 
  the walls to ensure the 
  city was contained; at 
  least on the surface 
  level. Raiding parties of 
  Deathstalkers entered 
  the gates, slaying the 
  wandering undead who 
  crossed their paths and 
  building a map of the 
  city. They found water, 
  and though it tasted 
  as if it had been boiled 
  until everything in it 
  was dead, it was safe 
  enough to provide the 
  most precious resource 
  that deep in the desert.
  Once the Silver Wraiths 
  established their camp, 
  the next step was to create a steady 
  supply line. In the coming months the 
  sight of their sand trains pulled by the 
  cloth-shrouded skeletal elephants became 
  somewhat common place, both in Pala-
  vashta and in Kalcuth, each city on oppo-
  site sides of the great desert. Supplying 
  the Silver Wraiths became something of 
  an industry in itself, even if the guild rep-
  resentatives kept quiet about their opera-
  tions. As the guild started to pay for goods 
  with strange coins that bore the faces of 
  kings only mentioned in the dustiest of 
  history books, speculation ran rampant as 
  to just what it was they’d found out in the 
  desert. Not only that, but within the year, 
  the guild was hiring outside individuals to 
  assist in its endeavors. Mercenaries, histo-
  rians, tomb breakers and others all found 
  that the guild was more than willing to pay 
  handsome fees for their services... and 
  for their silence once their tasks were per-
  formed.
  It took five years of sustained effort by 
  nearly the entire guild, and the expendi-
  ture of several small fortunes, before Moüd 
  was safe for habitation by the living once 
  again. Once the guild 
  was satisfied that it had 
  expunged a majority 
  of the dangers posed 
  by the undead that 
  had inhabited the city, 
  as well as purifying as 
  much of the city as they 
  could, they moved their 
  operations within the 
  walls and began repair-
  ing the structures from 
  the ravages of time. 
  This kind of work took 
  masons and carpenters 
  of skill, in addition to 
  the individuals already 
  employed by the guild, 
  and on their heels came 
  merchants and metal-
  workers, cooks, wash-
  ers and more eager 
  
  8
  to establish a foothold in this mysterious, 
  reclaimed city.
  The factor that led to Moüd rising from 
  the sands of time, though, was its loca-
  tion. Situated in the middle of the Track-
  less Quarter, Moüd sits in the center of a 
  straight line between the port city of Pa-
  lavashta and the trading hub of Kalcuth. 
  A trade caravan going around the rim of 
  the Trackless Quarter can take months to 
  get from one city to the next going round 
  the long way, while the tireless sand trains 
  maintained by the Silver Wraiths and their 
  undying teams can make the journey in 
  less than a fortnight. Though the cost is 
  higher, the sheer numbers of goods and 
  passengers who travel the Skeletal Road 
  ensures that Moüd always has a fresh 
  supply of everything a bustling trade city 
  could want. And though it is possible for a 
  well-outfitted transport to follow along the 
  well-trodden path to the City of Bones (es-
  pecially since the Silver Wraiths have been 
  expanding the roads and way stations over 
  the decades), most would rather trust their 
  fortunes to the gray-clad guild and their 
  guarantees of safe passage.
  It’s the advantage of location, and the near 
  monopoly on the ability to move safely 
  through the Trackless Quarter, that has 
  let Moüd rise from the dusts of history to 
  take her place once more as a hub of trav-
  el, trade and learning. Even now, nearly a 
  century after its original re-discovery, there 
  are still secrets being plumbed from the 
  necropolis deep in the bowels of the City of 
  Bones.
  The Silver Wraiths, and 
  Guild Law
  Before they used their mystic arts and 
  arcane knowledge to resurrect Moüd from 
  the graveyard of history, the Silver Wraiths 
  were already a well-known and well-re-
  spected guild. While necromancers are 
  often thought of as black-garbed occultists 
  wielding dark powers for their own ends, 
  the Silver Wraiths attempted to show that 
  necromancy itself was neither good nor 
  evil; it was all about the ends it was turned 
  toward. While their more notable services 
  involved exorcising infestations of spon-
  taneous undead and cleansing hauntings 
  from tainted locations, the guild also used 
  its arts to help preserve meat for trav-
  el, and to use their undead servants to 
  provide aid and service in situations that 
  would be too hazardous for living people.
  In order to maintain their reputation, the 
  Silver Wraiths are dedicated to ethical 
  acquisition of bodies, and compensation 
  for the materials rendered. While the guild 
  tries to use the remains of beasts when-
  ever possible (particularly for transporta-
  tion needs and raw labor), there are times 
  when a humanoid form is required to com-
  plete certain tasks. In these cases, permis-
  sion is always sought from an individual 
  before their death whenever possible, or 
  from their next of kin when it isn’t. While 
  some individuals will leave their remains 
  to the guild in their wills, hoping to help 
  further the Silver Wraiths’ works, the guild 
  has been known to purchase corpses for 
  their use... in some cases even paying 
  living persons their burial fee so the guild 
  may claim them after death. In most cases 
  the guild only uses corporeal undead, view-
  ing the spirit as out-of-bounds, but some 
  extreme cases have called for extreme 
  actions throughout their history. Lastly, in 
  order to prevent misidentification, undead 
  created by the Silver Wraiths always bear 
  unique arcane marks as well as scrimshaw 
  along their bones, the patterns written in 
  the dead language of Hausfaran so there’s 
  no mistaking guild property.
  While there are dozens of different ranks 
  and divisions within the guild, employing 
  academics, researchers, hunters and field 
  practitioners, the ruling body of the Silver 
  Wraiths are the individuals known only as 
  the Phantom Council. Their identities are 
  kept purposefully hidden in order to protect 
  
  9
  them, to the point that only higher rank-
  ing within the guild even know how many 
  members sit on the Council. When they call 
  in individuals to present information, or 
  to have meetings with them, every mem-
  ber of the Council witnesses the meeting 
  through the eyes of a robed skeleton rath-
  er than being present in-person. This pro-
  vides for safety and security for the council 
  members, but it also has the added benefit 
  of unnerving the more arrogant merchant 
  princes and monied interests who insist 
  their position and demands be brought 
  directly to the Phantom Council rather than 
  to their underlings.
  The Silver Orders
  While there have been grumbles in some 
  circles about the necromancers simply de-
  claring themselves rulers of an entire city, 
  the hard truth is that their unique arts are 
  the only thing that keeps Moüd running, 
  and that even if someone were able to take 
  the city away from them after crawling 
  across the inhospitable waste surrounding 
  the walls, the city would rapidly fall apart 
  without the necromancers maintaining the 
  wards and undead performing the neces-
  sary labors. So while other cities, merchant 
  confederacies and trade guilds may not like 
  the situation, they’ve found that contract-
  ing with the Silver Wraiths is simply better 
  for business in the long run.
  The Silver Wraiths run their city as an ex-
  tension of the guild itself, and they hold it 
  to many of the same rules and standards. 
  The Silver Orders are the bylaws the guild 
  enforces, and important 
  aspects are posted for all 
  individuals who enter the 
  city so that none can claim 
  ignorance of the law. While 
  there are sections of the 
  Orders that deal with busi-
  ness practices, licenses and 
  fees, the largest section of 
  the collection of rules deals 
  with the practices of nec-
  romancy while within the city. It lays out 
  which forms of magic are allowed, and the 
  necessary rules and limits for practicing 
  necromancy in the city if one is not a guild 
  member. The laws actually go into fairly 
  intricate detail, and punishments for break-
  ing these particular aspects of the law 
  often seem unexpectedly harsh.
  In all the time since Moüd has reclaimed 
  its title as a major trade city, though, the 
  number of people who have pushed back 
  against the Silver Wraiths’ laws can be 
  counted on one hand. Every tale ends with 
  the same lesson; if you are going to chal-
  lenge a guild of necromancers, it is best 
  not to do it in the very city where they 
  keep their guild headquarters, train their 
  apprentices and maintain a small army of 
  servants of the living and the dead alike.
  A Buried Secret
  Over the past century the Silver Wraiths 
  have unearthed a great deal of Moüd’s 
  lost history. Grimoires inked on preserved 
  skins, enchanted items whose creation and 
  manufacture was thought lost and coffers 
  of coin and gems have all been found in 
  the catacombs that run beneath the city. 
  While the material wealth has enriched the 
  Silver Wraiths (or at least made rebuilding 
  the city less costly), the lost records and 
  knowledge was worth far more than the 
  amber and gold stored in the underground 
  vaults.
  There was one treasure the Silver Wraiths 
  found that they have kept secret, though. 
  Something known only to 
  the Phantom Council, and 
  to a select handful of peo-
  ple outside their chamber 
  walls; the Undying Prince 
  was not a myth.
  Aban Suir was one of the 
  most accomplished of the 
  wizard kings of Moüd, with 
  an indomitable will that 
  
  10
  led him to master the arcane arts as well 
  as the political and philosophical divisions 
  among the ancient court. Highly respected 
  among the other practitioners of the noted 
  city, he was the one who led the ritual to 
  pierce the veil between the worlds, and to 
  open a well into the Prim; the realm where 
  the raw power of magic was drawn from. 
  Something went wrong, however, and the 
  well they formed was unstable. Worse, the 
  combined power of those involved in the 
  rite was not enough to close the gap once 
  they’d managed to open it. Reality was 
  tearing all around them, and there was no 
  telling what damage the breach would do if 
  it was not contained.
  Someone would have to stay behind to 
  hold the breach while the city evacuated, 
  and the others closed the wards. It would 
  have to be someone strong enough to hold 
  out against the tide of magic, in order to 
  buy the others time. Aban Suir placed the 
  Horned Crown upon his brow, seated him-
  self in the great throne that sat before the 
  breach, and bid the others to leave him. 
  To seal this place, and ensure that no one 
  returned.
  The courtiers did as their king bid, and 
  sealed him in the subterranean throne 
  room. Moüd was evacuated within hours, 
  the people running through the grassy hills 
  and fleeing along the roads as the remain-
  ing wizards and sorcerers wove and em-
  powered the protections across the length 
  and breadth of the city. Their final ward 
  was laid across the very walls of Moüd to 
  contain the energies flowing out of the hole 
  they’d burrowed into the realm beyond in 
  an attempt to siphon its power for them-
  selves.
  Aban Suir knew that no matter how strong 
  his mind, or how iron his will, no living 
  person could hope to hold back the tide of 
  power. It would destroy him utterly, and 
  once he was gone it would crash against 
  the wards. Sooner or later, he knew they 
  would also crack, and the breach would 
  grow. To maintain his vigil, he focused and 
  channeled the energy flowing out of the 
  Prim, and used it to alter himself. His body 
  became an undead, skeletal thing, covered 
  in tattered, leathery skin. Wisps of hair 
  clung to his scalp beneath the ivory crown, 
  but he anchored his soul to the ancient 
  throne beneath him. Freed from mortal 
  concerns, Aban Suir held the breach as a 
  lich who would come to be known in myth 
  and legend as the Undying Prince.
  The lich had planned to hold the breach 
  as long as he could while attempting to 
  find some way to turn the erupting power 
  back on itself to seal the tear. Time was no 
  longer a concern for him, but as the years 
  went by, he found that it was very much 
  a concern for the world around him. The 
  energies of the breach were killing the land 
  and everything in it, making it impossi-
  ble to sustain life; they were also raising 
  corpses left in the vaults of the city. Those 
  risen dead could not pass the wards yet, 
  but they stalked the streets and tunnels, 
  awaiting anyone unwary enough to enter 
  the lost city. Aban Suir needed help, and 
  so he cast a sliver of his mind out into the 
  world to try to bring that help to him.
  Malik was not the first that Aban Suir at-
  tempted to contact. Many were declared 
  mad, cast out from their people to die 
  alone, or they took their own lives in fear 
  of the lich king’s summons. Others were 
  killed by the hazards of the growing waste 
  of the Trackless Quarter, and even those 
  who managed to arrive were devoured by 
  the undead who waited within the walls. 
  The Undying Prince had sat his throne for 
  nearly a thousand years before the Sil-
  ver Wraiths came to Moüd, adding their 
  strength and knowledge to his own. It’s 
  only been with his aid that the guild has 
  managed to purify and ward the city as 
  effectively as they have, and though it is 
  mostly stable, the danger is far from gone.
  Though progress has been made in con-
  trolling the breach over the past several 
  
  11
  decades, the throne room where Aban Suir 
  sits is still steeped in necromantic taint. 
  And while the Council agrees that sealing 
  the mistake made over a millennium ago is 
  in the best interests of all, some are ques-
  tioning just what will happen if they man-
  age to succeed, and the lich’s vigil is finally 
  over. Some suggest he should be embraced 
  as a master necromancer, provided he 
  abides by both the spirit and the letter of 
  the Silver Orders. Others have put forth far 
  less... welcoming suggestions for what to 
  do with the last of the line of Tharne when 
  that day finally comes.
  Gazetteer
  Moüd is made up of several districts, seg-
  regated by the activities and planning of 
  the Silver Wraiths. Each of these districts 
  comes with locations of note, NPCs players 
  are likely to meet and rumors that they 
  may come across while spending time in a 
  particular district.
  North District
  A place of grandeur, the North District 
  was the best-preserved part of the ruins 
  of the ancient city. Restored to its former 
  glory, the huge palaces of bloodstone and 
  smooth, polished walkways interspersed 
  with fountains and greenery gives one an 
  idea of what life must have been like so 
  long ago. Instead of bejeweled nobles and 
  opulent wealth, though, the district is filled 
  with the gray-clad members of the Sil-
  ver Wraiths, the guild’s servants and their 
  acolytes in training... as well as the black-
  swathed skeletons who perform the main-
  tenance required to preserve the beauty 
  and function of the North District.
  Formerly the domain of ancient Moüd’s 
  wealthy elite, the North District is now a 
  place of learning, scholarship and training. 
  The former palaces have been turned into 
  offices and meeting rooms, lecture halls 
  and archives for the guild’s ever-expanding 
  knowledge. It’s said by some that if there 
  is a rite, ritual, spell or incantation relat-
  ed to the dead that can’t be found in the 
  North District’s archives, then there is no 
  one among the living who knows it.
  Noteworthy Locations
  • College of Bones: Located on the 
  northern side of the district, surround-
  ing a central courtyard, the two doz-
  en buildings that make up the campus 
  of the College of Bones are where the 
  Silver Wraiths train new members in 
  the arts of necromancy and in dealing 
  with the dead. Anatomy and physiolo-
  gy are taught using carefully preserved 
  corpses, but spells, rituals, animation 
  and control are all hands-on affairs. The 
  buildings also contain dormitories for 
  the students, as well as college records, 
  and preservation and upkeep rooms for 
  relics that have been discovered in the 
  vaults beneath the city.
  • Purity Gardens: Once kept as pleasure 
  gardens for the long-vanished elite of 
  Moüd, fanciful fountains still burble with 
  crisp, cool water, and walking paths lead 
  one through a forest of hanging gardens 
  in the largest open space in the North 
  District. The fruits and flowers are main-
  tained by silent gardeners, their heavy 
  robes hiding their bony fingers and skel-
  etal faces.
  • Salter’s Row: Running along the 
  southern border of the district, Salter’s 
  Row is a series of warehouses where the 
  Silver Wraiths store many of the ne-
  cessities for maintaining the city. From 
  stone chambers filled with cattle and 
  oxen carcasses held in stasis by preser-
  vative rites, to chests filled with dried 
  fruits, and indexed holds of bulk compo-
  nents for common spells, Salter’s Row 
  is perhaps the liveliest place in the City 
  of Bones. The largest structure, built 
  from ancient timbers, is known as the 
  Death House. It is the location where 
  the district’s teams of undead workers 
  and skeletal beasts are kept when they 
  
  12
  are not needed, and the place has an 
  almost palpable chill even on the hottest 
  of desert days.
  Persons of Interest
  • Shareed el Song: The chronicler of the 
  crypts, Shareed is a short, dark-skinned 
  woman with round cheeks and sharp 
  eyes. She keeps the records of every-
  thing that lies beneath the city, and 
  where it’s been moved if it is no longer 
  in its original resting place. An accom-
  plished linguist who has managed to 
  translate everything from burial scrolls 
  to ancient coins, no one living has a 
  more complete understanding of Moüd 
  and its history than she does.
  • Kerner Tunnelspark: A thick-shoul-
  dered, foul-tempered dwarven man with 
  heavy-knuckled hands and a tongue as 
  harsh as a miner’s rasp, the silver skull 
  ring on his middle finger marks him 
  as an adept of the Silver Wraiths. The 
  manager of the Death House, Tunnel-
  spark upkeeps the bones that collect the 
  city’s waste, clean the streets, harvest 
  food and perform a hundred other un-
  seen duties every single day. It’s said 
  by many lower-level guild members and 
  acolytes that he treats the animated 
  bones with more respect and consider-
  ation than the living persons who help 
  him manage and maintain the city’s 
  staff of workers.
  • Vestergen Nox: A rangy gnome, 
  Vestergen has all the hallmarks of a 
  guild member who over-exerted him-
  self in the field. His skin is sallow, his 
  hair pale as milk, and he walks with an 
  ebony cane tipped in silver. Though he 
  has been taken off of field duty on guild 
  orders, he still acts as the face for a 
  large amount of business conducted in 
  Moüd by the Silver Wraiths. From meet-
  ing with individuals looking to contract 
  with the guild for their services, to deal-
  ing with flesh merchants, craftsmen and 
  freelance dungeon delvers looking to 
  explore as-yet unopened crypts beneath 
  the city, the only officers above Vester-
  gen’s authority for contracts are the 
  Phantom Council itself.
  Whispers and Rumors
  • It’s said that the water and soil of the 
  city still have a small amount of the 
  taint that inundated the city for centu-
  ries; all you have to do is take a bite of 
  the foods growing in the Purity Gardens 
  to taste it. While the fruits and vege-
  tables will nourish those who eat them 
  for a time, the taint inside this food will 
  harm you as surely as a sailor drinking 
  sea water to try to quench their thirst. 
  While the Silver Wraiths have attempted 
  to quash these rumors, insisting there is 
  no danger posed by the city’s food sup-
  ply, imported foods (and even imported 
  water) are growing far more common 
  even if they’re far more expensive.
  • Suspicion grows that teamsters guilds 
  and caravaneer alliances are trying to 
  sabotage the Silver Wraiths’ operations 
  in Moüd. Though the necromancers hav-
  en’t attempted to replicate their success 
  with using undead teams or animals to 
  increase speed and efficiency for trans-
  porting goods and passengers outside of 
  the Trackless Quarter, their competition 
  has no desire to try to outperform the 
  living dead, and they’re supposedly tak-
  ing precautions to undercut the Silver 
  Wraiths.
  • The acolytes from the College of Bones 
  have been doing more and more field 
  work all around the city, and spending 
  a great deal less time in their lecture 
  halls. While there’s the usual talk of 
  accelerated learning and hands-on ex-
  perience from the guild itself, many in 
  the district are off-put by seeing flocks 
  of black-robed students in the streets... 
  especially since, according to some ob-
  servers, there seems to be a real ur-
  gency to the tasks their instructors set 
  them to beyond a need for more prac-
  tice at their craft.
  
  13
  Elmbarrow
  Filled with narrow roads that wind between 
  stacked, stone structures that look almost 
  like over-sized mausoleums, Elmbarrow is 
  a place for the living as well as the dead. 
  Shaded by the branches of false elms and 
  with patches of vines clinging to many of 
  the lower structures, the district has the 
  calm, peaceful feeling of a memorial park. 
  There is far more life present than one 
  might expect, if one looks closely. Filled 
  with small markets, outdoor eateries and 
  underground taverns, Elmbarrow has far 
  more going on beneath the surface than it 
  may at first appear.
  A place where the living and the dead 
  existed side-by-side in ancient Moüd, El-
  mbarrow’s initial population came from 
  the travelers who couldn’t find room in the 
  already-settled parts of the city. So Elm-
  barrow became the spill over space, and 
  it’s now home to ragged scholars, traveling 
  merchants and many others who are sim-
  ply just passing through. The district’s per-
  manent population is growing, though, and 
  enterprising individuals have been serving 
  the needs for more space in unexpected 
  ways... many of which have earned the ire 
  of the Silver Wraiths over the years.
  Noteworthy Locations
  • The Tomb: A former crypt, the Tomb is 
  located roughly in the 
  center of Elmbarrow. 
  Easily identified by the 
  burning green lanterns 
  that mark the stairway 
  down to its entrance, 
  the nightclub is the 
  district’s most infa-
  mous hot spot. With 
  skulls lining the walls, 
  and bone chandeliers 
  hung from the ceiling, 
  the place never fails to 
  draw a crowd who want 
  to take in the unusual 
  and the macabre. The place is run by 
  a woman named Ruthana al’ Fakir, and 
  though she is not a member of the Sil-
  ver Wraiths she appears to have some 
  arrangement with the guild that allows 
  her to fill her club with undead servants 
  and musicians.
  • The Dead Market: Typically found in 
  the southern part of the district, the 
  Dead Market specializes in charms, 
  trinkets and services related to the 
  dead. From amulets that will protect 
  you from the touch of the walking dead, 
  to exorcists who claim they can break 
  curses, to fortune tellers who can read 
  one’s future in a cast of carved knuck-
  le bones, the faces at the Dead Market 
  are constantly shifting. Also, while there 
  may be bits and pieces of genuine mag-
  ic there from time to time, the whispers 
  one can pick up listening to the chatter 
  are more valuable than any grave goods 
  or superstitious fetish.
  • Weeping Hollow: A large clearing 
  not far from Small Gate, the Weeping 
  Hollow is a small area filled with false 
  elms; the trees the district is named 
  for. Tall for scrub trees, they have wide, 
  flat leaves, but they tend to bow un-
  der their own weight. This gives them 
  the impression of being wracked with 
  grief, and unable to hold themselves up 
  straight. Weeping Hollow is a careful-
  ly cultivated park, and it is a common 
  place for those looking for a peaceful re-
  spite to go. It’s also pop-
  ular with many lovers, as 
  the false elms can provide 
  more than a little priva-
  cy... particularly during 
  the twilight hours.
  Persons of Interest
  • 
  Ruthana al’ Fakir: 
  With hair the bleached 
  white of desert bones, and 
  blue-black skin that feels 
  cool to the touch, Ruthana 
  has been marked by death 
  
  14
  since the day she was born. The owner 
  and proprietor of the Tomb, her mas-
  tery of necromancy is rare for one in the 
  city that doesn’t wear the guild’s silver 
  ring. No one seems to know where her 
  powers spring from, but there are some 
  who say she was stillborn, and that she 
  brought death into the world with her 
  when the midwife managed to revive 
  her. Others say she was conceived in 
  a boneyard, and that the taint of the 
  grave seeped into her mother’s very 
  womb. Those with the courage to speak 
  to her find that the sorceress seeks 
  beauty in death, and that she views the 
  Tomb and its many rooms as a kind of 
  gallery for her strange art.
  • Sange Derosen: A wiry, orc-blooded 
  man with stringy gray hair, Sange is un-
  flappable when it comes to the bizarre 
  sights one might come across in the 
  City of Bones. A grave digger by trade, 
  he’s found there’s little enough call for 
  a living person with his skills in Moüd. 
  He’s since become a grave robber and 
  a crypt breaker, and he keeps his large 
  ears to the ground to make sure that 
  any changes in the wind don’t catch 
  him off guard. Though he often has a 
  blanket covered with items for sale in 
  the Dead Market, most who come to his 
  stall are looking for information rather 
  than for tomb trinkets or corpse pen-
  nies.
  • Leshara Vines: A bronze-hued wom-
  an with a touch of elven blood, Leshara 
  is often seen wandering through the 
  Weeping Hollow with her tall yew staff in 
  hand. She speaks to the trees, patting 
  them, examining their roots and taking 
  trimmings of some of their flowers. A 
  herbalist who has been contracted by 
  the guild on more than one occasion, 
  she’s mostly known in the district for 
  providing tinctures and poultices, along 
  with herbal remedies for heatstroke and 
  aches. While friendly, if flighty, Lesha-
  ra never discusses what she’s doing 
  among the false elms... and those who 
  have tried to press her have learned 
  there are thorns among the Vines, so to 
  speak.
  Whispers and Rumors
  • The Dead Market is even brisker than 
  normal, with buyers and sellers alike 
  casting eyes over their shoulders. While 
  the guild often turns a blind eye to the 
  market’s activities, they’ve been send-
  ing agents to sift through the stalls 
  looking for something... or so many 
  merchants believe. No one can say for 
  certain who may or may not be a guild 
  informant, but the idea they’re being 
  watched is making everyone very ner-
  vous.
  • It’s said that ghoul fever has been run-
  ning through parts of Elmbarrow. The 
  Silver Wraiths have cordoned off several 
  locations, guarding them with intimidat-
  ing skeletal champions in black armor 
  both night and day. There seems to 
  have been no outbreaks of the disease 
  among the general populace, and while 
  some say that’s due to the guild’s swift 
  actions, others wonder if the supposed 
  instances of the fever are merely a cov-
  er story to hide something even worse.
  • Many of the false elms throughout the 
  district have begun to grow strange, 
  dark fruit. The fruits are sweet and soft, 
  but they are dangerous to eat. No one 
  seems to know what they are (as these 
  trees do not typically grow fruit at all), 
  but the guild has decreed that these 
  fruits are to be left alone by anyone 
  without prior authorization. Enterpris-
  ing individuals are stealing them any-
  way, with many trying to cultivate their 
  own crops, or to see if the fruits can be 
  made safe (or at least safer) through 
  fermentation.
  Lighthall
  A restored masterpiece that feels like step-
  ping back in time, Lighthall is filled with 
  buildings, mosaics and statues older than 
  many modern states. A rustless pole of 
  
  15
  iron stands in the center square, the mas-
  sive pillar bearing the code of the city’s 
  ancient kings in a language that had been 
  all but forgotten. Crowds bustle through 
  the district, and coins of a dozen different 
  mints change hands for a hundred differ-
  ent kinds of goods. Lighthall is, without a 
  doubt, where the past meets the present in 
  the City of Bones.
  The center of Moüd is always buzzing with 
  activity. In addition to marketplaces and 
  space for visiting envoys, the district also 
  boasts breath-taking hanging gardens, lo-
  cations of historical significance and a vari-
  ety of unique shops and services. Lighthall 
  also boasts the center of the Silver Wraiths’ 
  administration, and it is the first place 
  many prospective acolytes and clients go 
  upon first entering the city.
  Noteworthy Locations
  • Silver Hall: A brooding structure just 
  off the district’s central square, Silver 
  Hall has the guild’s banner hanging from 
  the roof, and the doors are flanked by 
  guards in gray armor who keep a steady 
  eye on all comings and goings. Inside, 
  the hall is as quiet as the grave, with 
  the gray-robed guild members going 
  about the daily duties demanded of 
  them. The interior is polished stone, 
  and it has the feel of 
  a chapel that’s been 
  converted to new, 
  more practical use. And 
  though much of the 
  city boasts tombs and 
  crypts of one variety 
  or another, it’s said the 
  catacombs beneath 
  Silver Hall are far more 
  extensive, and that 
  even after all these 
  decades the guild still 
  hasn’t fully plumbed 
  their depths.
  • The Oasis: Located 
  just off the meeting 
  place of two of the city’s main roads, 
  the Oasis is a cool, shady spot that has 
  a nearly constant breeze riffling through 
  it. With the soft splash of fountains as 
  a complement to dulcimer players, the 
  Oasis is where many of the city’s mer-
  chants come to drink while they make 
  their deals. While most of the business 
  done at the low tables surrounded by 
  soft cushions is legitimate, more than 
  one bargain for illicit grave goods or 
  smuggled mummy wrappings has been 
  made beneath the swaying palms.
  • The Three Kings: Just south of 
  Lighthall’s main square, this palatial 
  estate has been carefully resurrect-
  ed to recreate what life was like in the 
  ancient city Moüd used to be. Undead 
  in livery of the period move about the 
  grounds offering refreshment to guests, 
  and they perform tasks the same way 
  they were done so long ago. The tab-
  leau is fascinating, but eerie for those 
  who haven’t grown used to the presence 
  of the undead throughout the city. Still, 
  the Three Kings is often touted as one 
  of the most unique sights that a visitor 
  to Moüd can witness... if they have the 
  spine for it.
  Persons of Interest
  • Nefran Kai: A dark-skinned woman 
  with long, curly hair and 
  wide hips, Nefran is a 
  near-constant figure at 
  the Oasis. While there 
  are those who name her 
  a rumormonger, there’s 
  no denying that the only 
  way she could know more 
  about what was happen-
  ing in the city would be if 
  she possessed a scrying 
  mirror. Often seen hold-
  ing court over drinks, it’s 
  common practice for new-
  comers to seek her out 
  for directions... though it’s 
  not uncommon for her to 
  
  16
  ask more questions than she answers of 
  those who cross her path.
  • Ardeth Sul: A tall man with tattoos on 
  his face that mark him as a member of 
  the Shorani people of the northern des-
  ert, Ardeth Sul is the head of the Death-
  stalkers. The silvered falchion at his 
  side has served a dozen heads of this 
  guild branch before him, and it has slain 
  countless foes who have attempted to 
  defy death’s calling. While most see him 
  as a grim-faced harbinger, there is often 
  a black humor to his comments... when 
  he chooses to speak, at least.
  • Dionna Rooks: A halfling woman with 
  long fingers and short patience, Dionna 
  is always in the midst of some flurry of 
  activity. The chief organizer at the Sil-
  ver Hall, she’s perhaps the only person 
  who doesn’t wear a silver ring who still 
  has keys to the guild’s doors. Nothing, 
  no matter how strange, ever seems to 
  phase her, either. Not even the clatter-
  ing, shuffling, skeletal minions of the 
  necromancers who handle much of the 
  manual duties around the hall. She’s 
  even been known to give pet names to 
  the undead, many of whom have been 
  commanded to follow her commands 
  should she assign them tasks.
  Whispers and Rumors
  • The strange, iron pole in the central 
  square is a unique relic, but there are 
  some who say it goes much further into 
  the ground than anyone knows. In the 
  subterranean chambers beneath the 
  distract it’s said to list the rules that 
  must be followed by the dead, just as 
  the section above ground lists the laws 
  for the living. The knowledge kept out 
  of sight is said to have greatly expanded 
  the guild’s know how in regards to both 
  creating their own undead, and in com-
  manding those created by other means.
  • Lighthall is one of the only districts in 
  the city that is watched by the Death-
  stalkers rather than by the typical city 
  watch employed by the Silver Wraiths. 
  While some say that it’s merely a mat-
  ter of numbers (with so few of the elite 
  company available, there’s not enough 
  of them to go around), there are others 
  who suggest that the unique skills of 
  these fearless slayers are going to be 
  needed in Lighthall as they wouldn’t be 
  needed in other districts. They insinuate 
  there is something beneath the Silver 
  Hall, and that the Deathstalkers aren’t 
  there to keep the public out, but to keep 
  whatever secret the guild is hiding in.
  • Some have claimed that the Three Kings 
  is far more than an undead museum, 
  recreating the city as it once was. Ac-
  cording to the rumors, one of the Silver 
  Wraiths has gone mad, and believes 
  they are one of the ancient rulers of 
  the city as it used to be. This place, 
  complete with its “staff” of attendants 
  is there to pacify them. Some rumors 
  go so far as to suggest this person is a 
  member of the Phantom Council, and 
  that their knowledge and skill is too 
  great to set aside even as their mind 
  loses the ability to tell the past from the 
  present.
  West Gate
  The district is a strange hodgepodge of 
  ancient foundations and fresh additions. 
  Colorful cloths draw attention to merchant 
  stalls, and flags and banners bearing mak-
  er’s marks and heraldry fly from a dozen 
  different buildings. Sun-baked bricks sit 
  side-by-side with imported lumber and 
  fresh-cut sandstone, all of it creating a 
  strange blend that can be a riot to the 
  senses. The population of West Gate is 
  nearly as diverse as its structures, creating 
  a mixing bowl of some of the most unex-
  pected elements found in the city.
  Perhaps the most common route for trade 
  to come into the city, West Gate is also 
  where passengers embark or disembark 
  from the huge conveyances pulled by the 
  Silver Wraiths’ elephantine teams. A hot 
  spot of news, gossip and of travelers who 
  
  17
  are fresh to the city, West Gate is always 
  filled with entertainers, peddlers and oth-
  ers looking to unburden newcomers from 
  as much of their coin as possible.
  Noteworthy Locations
  • Skyhall: Off to the west of the main 
  gate, Skyhall is a beautiful remnant of 
  the old city that’s been laid bare and 
  restored. With towering columns, a fan-
  ciful tiled floor and reflection pools along 
  the side to help moisten and cool the 
  air, Skyhall is a popular place for those 
  looking to take their ease while soak-
  ing in one of Moüd’s famous sights. The 
  location earned its name because it has 
  no roof, which allows for a breath-tak-
  ing view of the stars once the sun goes 
  down and the night spreads over the 
  sky.
  • The Smokehouse: One of the oldest 
  structures in the city, this long, low se-
  ries of counters, fryers, grills and cook-
  ing ranges is teeming with custom every 
  single day. From fresh, seasoned chick-
  en served on a skewer, to slices of goat 
  meat turned on a spit and served on a 
  fresh flatbread with onions and peppers, 
  there are dozens of different foods on 
  offer. The aromas often entice those 
  fresh off the road, many of whom have 
  had to make due with travel rations and 
  flat water, and as a result the Smoke-
  house tends to be a place to get fresh 
  news as well as a fast, greasy meal.
  • Bearings Place: Just far enough 
  through the main gate to avoid 
  traffic gluts, Bearings Place is 
  a guide post for anyone who 
  needs to, as the sign pro-
  claims, find their bearings. The 
  long, low building is dug into 
  the ground in order to avoid 
  the worst of the day’s heat, 
  and it offers maps of the city in 
  half a dozen different languag-
  es. There are guidebooks too, 
  as well as posted notifications 
  of changing ordinances an-
  nounced by the guild. Those who need 
  to book passage out of the city can also 
  do so through Bearings Place, paying a 
  small fee to the business for handling 
  the arrangements to the client’s specifi-
  cations.
  Persons of Interest
  • Arturo Bearings: A rangy young man 
  with orcish blood, deep gray skin and a 
  head of multicolored braids, Arturo took 
  over managing Bearings Place from his 
  older brother several years ago. Garru-
  lous and outspoken, Arturo seems par-
  ticularly well-acquainted with the seed-
  ier parts of the city. A capable linguist 
  who’s done his fair share of traveling, 
  Arturo always seems to have anoth-
  er story to tell about somewhere he’s 
  been, or an adventure he’s had. And 
  for those willing to pay a small fee, he’ll 
  even act as a guide to Moüd’s... unique 
  night life.
  • Essa al’ Wahi: Thin, dark-eyed and 
  shaven-headed, Essa bears the badge of 
  a guild officiant, though not the ring of a 
  Silver Wraith necromancer. The head of 
  trade and customs at the gate, she en-
  sures that travelers and merchants alike 
  are screened, and that all deliveries are 
  in order. Humorless and clipped, there 
  are some who not-so-jokingly wonder 
  what boneyard the guild pulled her out 
  of... even if none would have the cour-
  age to say that within her hearing.
  • “Cook” Strahan: Always man-
  ning a stand at the far end of 
  the Smokehouse, Strahan is a 
  broad-shouldered, big-bellied 
  man whose been burned dark by 
  the desert sun. Strahan seems to 
  know everyone who comes by his 
  counter, and he’s always laughing 
  and joking with his customers. 
  Beneath the rough humor, though, 
  are dark eyes that have seen far 
  more of the world than most. Eyes 
  that rarely laugh along with the 
  man’s mouth.
  
  18
  Whispers and Rumors
  • Those who’ve spent time around Artu-
  ro known he’s been through his share 
  of close calls and whirlwind endeavors. 
  He always wears a heavy leather cuff 
  around one wrist, though, and he seems 
  particularly sensitive about it. Some 
  have begun to suspect that he was 
  branded for a crime, and that mark is 
  why he needed to pull his stakes imme-
  diately to move to a city where no one 
  knew him, or his past deeds.
  • There has been a larger presence of 
  guild officials than normal at the gate, 
  and they’ve been unusually diligent 
  about checking what goes out of the 
  city as well as what’s coming in. Some 
  rumors say there have even been raids 
  on store houses and caravans, but no 
  one claims to have seen such things 
  with their own eyes. The Silver Wraiths 
  are looking for something, but no one 
  seems to know what could possibly have 
  drawn their eyes so firmly toward West 
  Gate.
  • Most of the statuary throughout West 
  Gate has been worn down to the foun-
  dational white stone. Many statues, 
  though, are being painted bright col-
  ors in the night, as well as draped with 
  the latest fashions of clothing. No one 
  knows who’s responsible for this bizarre 
  trend, but it’s quickly catching on in 
  other districts of the city. Whether it’s 
  the same hand behind all of these “de-
  facements,” or imitators picking up the 
  torch, no one seems to know.
  The Outer District
  Small collections of structures cling to the 
  outside of Moüd’s walls in several places. 
  Newer constructions for the most part, 
  they sit in the shadow of the greater city. 
  Dusty, and a little disheveled, these pock-
  ets of people all seem to live with their 
  backs to the City of Bones. Warding ges-
  tures and hanging charms are common 
  sights here, and though members of the 
  guild are shown courtesy they are far from 
  welcome among those who choose to live 
  outside the city walls.
  While Moüd itself is a huge city, there are 
  those who distrust both the Silver Wraiths 
  and their use of the undead to maintain 
  the City of Bones. Most of those who object 
  will stay out of the Trackless Quarter en-
  tirely, but some have found that necessity 
  brings them to Moüd all the same. This has 
  led to several small communities springing 
  up outside the city that are outside of the 
  Silver Wraiths’ official control, but whose 
  continued existence requires them to re-
  main on good terms with the guild. These 
  are the most common places to find peo-
  ple who fear the goings on inside Moüd, or 
  who want to avoid scrutiny by the Silver 
  Wraiths and their agents... for whatever 
  reason.
  Notable Locations
  • Ravenhouse: One of the oldest parts of 
  the Outer District, Ravenhouse’s foun-
  dations were an ancient guard barracks 
  that had managed to survive more 
  or less intact since the original fall of 
  Moüd. Though it was used as a staging 
  ground by the Silver Wraiths when they 
  first arrived, it was abandoned after the 
  city proper was reclaimed. The most 
  notable part of Ravenhouse is the build-
  ing for which it was named; the aviary. 
  Housing the descendants of the ravens 
  first brought to Moüd as letter carriers, 
  the birds refuse to cross the city walls. 
  Bird tenders, scribes and others make 
  up the majority of workers in this partic-
  ularly small community.
  • Smallgate: An area that caters primari-
  ly to travelers, Smallgate offers lodging, 
  food, entertainment and the necessities 
  of the road to all of those who need to 
  rest on their journey, but who do not 
  wish to do so within the City of Bones 
  itself. Set up primarily outside a per-
  son-sized gate, this community only 
  sees the colossal teams used by the 
  
  19
  guild from a distance, allowing them to 
  maintain a kind of false independence 
  from the presence of the Silver Wraiths. 
  The niche Smallgate serves is small, but 
  as long as there are travelers who wish 
  to remain outside the city gates there 
  will always be custom for this communi-
  ty.
  • Shortcliff: As Smallgate provides for 
  travelers, so Shortcliff provides for drov-
  ers and shippers. Though a majority of 
  the goods and passengers that come to 
  Moüd are dragged by the undead haul-
  ers, others are willing to take their own 
  chances along the dead roads that lead 
  to the city. Shortcliff has warehouses for 
  goods storage, and it provides housing 
  for beasts of burden as well. Duty free 
  markets are common, drawing several 
  people out of the city and ensuring that 
  one can avoid paying extra fees to do 
  business in Moüd itself. Shortcliff keeps 
  a sharp eye out for those who would 
  peddle contraband, however, as the last 
  thing they want is the guild paying clos-
  er attention to their doings.
  Persons of Interest
  • Shen Sang: A bronze-skinned wom-
  an with brass bells in her braid and a 
  touch of elven blood in her veins, Shen 
  is the mistress of the Sundown House in 
  Smallgate. She’s run her establishment 
  going on ten years now, and she’s never 
  once entered the city proper in all that 
  time. All her supplies come from mer-
  chants in Shortcliff, or are delivered to 
  her from the city’s markets. While she 
  will tolerate those who wear the silver 
  skull as representatives of the pow-
  ers-that-be, she will not willingly serve 
  them in her inn, and her courtesies are 
  notably chilly when she offers them.
  • Haroud Makur: Tall, ropy and with a 
  braided gray beard that contrasts his 
  black skin, Haroud is the master of 
  the aviary in Ravenhouse. A scholar 
  who can speak half a dozen languag-
  es, Haroud’s knuckles may be arthritic, 
  but his penmanship is as immaculate as 
  ever. Often found with a cup of tea and 
  a book, he rarely hurries anything. A 
  task rushed, he often says, is a task you 
  will need to do twice.
  • Tran Sunstrider: Broad-hipped and 
  long-haired, Tran is short even for a 
  dwarven woman. Good natured, and 
  with a love of particularly crass humor, 
  she possesses a tireless energy that al-
  lows her to juggle a dozen tasks without 
  slowing. The stall organizer in Shortcliff, 
  Tran is who people come to whenever 
  they have a problem. And whether it’s 
  finding where they need to set up shop, 
  or reporting someone who is trying to 
  peddle banned materials, Tran always 
  seems to know just what to do.
  Whispers and Rumors
  • The ravens always seem eager to depart 
  their roosts, but many of them refuse to 
  return once their messages have been 
  delivered. While they’re brought back 
  on transports by the guild, the caged 
  birds seem less than pleased to be re-
  turned to the aviary. Several people 
  have put forth the notion that the birds 
  know something is wrong, but even the 
  smartest of the ravens don’t have a way 
  to put it into words.
  • There was a break-in at the Shortcliff 
  warehouse no more than a handful of 
  hours before the guild’s representatives 
  were to examine a shipment. While 
  some believe the Outer District simply 
  needs better guards, there are others 
  who believe it was staged by the mer-
  chants themselves. They didn’t want 
  to get caught with contraband in their 
  possession, so they claimed thieves had 
  taken some of their goods. After all, if 
  they’re the victims, who’s going to ac-
  cuse them of also being the thieves?
  • The Sundown House has closed recent-
  ly. Shen Sang claims it’s a minor matter 
  of repairs and a problem with unsafe 
  water, but there is talk there may be 
  more going on behind the closed doors. 
  
  20
  While no one claims they’ve seen any 
  of the guild necromancers, one or two 
  people have suggested that the Death-
  stalkers have shown a personal interest 
  in what’s happening at the inn.
  Alternative System: Necro-
  mantic Taint
  Necromancy is a potent tool, but much of it 
  is powered by negative energy. This en-
  ergy is anathema to living creatures, and 
  long-term exposure to negative energy 
  can leave a mark on someone; this mark is 
  commonly referred to as necromantic taint.
  Not every spell in the school of necroman-
  cy relies on negative energy. However, if 
  a necromancy spell creates undead, deals 
  damage to a living creature or causes a 
  harmful effect or penalty to a living crea-
  ture (ray of enfeeblement, bestow curse, 
  etc.) then casting this spell rubs off on the 
  caster. One point of necromantic taint is 
  generated per level of the spell cast (a first 
  level spell bestows a single point, a second 
  level spell bestows two points, etc. Howev-
  er, if a higher-level spell slot is used to cast 
  a lower-level spell, then the higher-level 
  spell slot is used to determine the necro-
  mantic taint), and if your Channel Divinity 
  class feature deals ne-
  crotic damage then you 
  gain a number of points 
  of necromantic taint 
  equal to half your level 
  in that class, rounded 
  down.
  Additionally, areas that 
  are filled with potent 
  negative energy (haunt-
  ed locations, sites of 
  potent necromantic 
  rituals, and similar lo-
  cations) may bestow 
  points of necromantic 
  taint to living creatures 
  simply for being present 
  in them (either at a rate of 1 per round, 1 
  per minute or 1 per hour depending on the 
  potency of the area). Particularly powerful 
  undead who have aura effects may also 
  bestow necromantic taint on those within 
  their aura at GM discretion.
  A living creature can endure up to their 
  Constitution score in necromantic taint with 
  no noticeable ill effects. If a living crea-
  ture has more temporary necromantic taint 
  than their Constitution score, they take a 
  -2 penalty on all skill checks, attack rolls 
  and ability checks. If a creature has more 
  necromantic taint than double their Con-
  stitution score, they roll with Disadvantage 
  on all of these checks in addition to taking 
  the -2 penalty.
  Living creatures with Resistance to necrotic 
  damage take half the amount of necroman-
  tic taint, rounded down to a minimum of 1. 
  Undead are immune to this condition.
  Removing Necromantic Taint
  Since it’s caused by negative energy, nec-
  romantic taint can be removed by the 
  application of positive energy. Any spell 
  that heals hit point damage with positive 
  energy (primarily cure spells) removes a 
  number of points of necromantic taint from 
  the target equal to the 
  spell level (or the spell 
  slot used if the slot is 
  higher than the spell 
  level). Positive energy 
  from Channel Divinity 
  removes a number of 
  points of necromantic 
  taint equal to half the 
  character’s level in that 
  class rounded down, and 
  this applies to all living 
  creatures affected re-
  gardless of how many 
  hit points they receive. A 
  full night’s rest removes 
  a number of points of 
  necromantic taint equal 
  
  21
  to a living creature’s Constitution modifier. 
  Lastly, creatures with regeneration remove 
  a number of points of necromantic taint 
  per round equal to their regeneration, but 
  this does not extend to fast healing.
  Additionally, spells that grant temporary hit 
  points (like false life) can shield a creature 
  from necromantic taint. In this case treat 
  points of necromantic taint as if it were hit 
  point damage, reducing the temporary hit 
  points appropriately.
  Long-Term Effects of Necro-
  mantic Taint
  While necromantic taint is rarely danger-
  ous in small doses, extended exposure 
  (such as that faced by a practicing necro-
  mancer) can have deleterious effects on 
  one’s health. It’s thought by many that 
  the stereotypical image of a necromancer, 
  with sunken eyes, pale skin, white hair and 
  an overall frail appearance, is directly be-
  cause of the toll taken by channeling large 
  amounts of negative energy. To avoid this, 
  most who deal with the undead in any ca-
  pacity will protect themselves with charms 
  and spells, and ensure proper cleansing 
  takes place as soon as possible to halt any 
  physical changes.
  Generally speaking, these physical effects 
  won’t manifest until someone spends at 
  least 24 hours with more points of necro-
  mantic taint than their Constitution mod-
  ifier. If an individual spends more than a 
  week carrying that burden, physical chang-
  es should start to manifest.
  New Player Species: Half-
  Dead
  Necromantic taint can create numerous 
  unusual effects. Perhaps one of the strang-
  est is the phenomenon referred to as the 
  half-dead; living creatures whose bodies 
  have been warped and twisted by exposure 
  to negative energies, dragging them to a 
  point somewhere halfway between life and 
  death.
  There are several, documented ways that a 
  half-dead can be made. The most common 
  is that the creature was exposed to necro-
  mantic taint while in the womb, either as 
  a result of parents who carried some taint, 
  or by being conceived in a tainted location. 
  In some instances, creatures who have 
  been gravely injured and left in an area of 
  potent necromantic taint (such as an un-
  hallowed ritual site, or a battlefield filled 
  with the taint of the undead) will find the 
  energy takes root inside of them instead of 
  killing them. There are legends and stories 
  that tell of drinking tainted blood, or a bite 
  that fails to transform someone entirely 
  into an undead creature, but even learned 
  necromancers have yet to understand how 
  certain conditions can lead to the creation 
  of a half-dead.
  What is known, though, is that these indi-
  viduals possess strange gifts and unusual 
  powers. Though they may be unsettling, 
  there are as many myths of heroic half-
  deads as there are of villainous ones.
  Physical Description
  In the broad strokes, a half-dead will re-
  semble their parent species; there are 
  always hallmarks that make them notice-
  ably different, though. These marks will 
  vary by individual, and they are often tied 
  to the particular incident that led to their 
  transformation. One half-dead may be 
  thin and wasted, looking like a victim of 
  a ghastly plague. Another will be stiff and 
  slow, with skin that’s cool to the touch. 
  Some will smell of grave dirt, while others 
  will have an unnatural, sickly-sweet aroma 
  that follows them. One may have a wasting 
  touch that reduces food to rot and siphons 
  life from their foes, while another will boast 
  rending teeth and a hunger for raw meat.
  Half-deads are kept in a perpetual twilight 
  by their state of being, and it greatly ex-
  
  22
  pands their lifespan. There are documented 
  cases of half-deads that have lived to 500 
  years, but some tales speak of individuals 
  who lived double that length of time. How-
  ever, in exchange for that greater lifespan, 
  half-deads are nearly sterile due to the en-
  ergies coursing through their bodies. There 
  are stories of some half-dead who have 
  borne children, but these events are rare in 
  the extreme, and often required particular 
  rituals or unusual circumstances to make 
  such a thing possible.
  Species Traits
  Ability Score Modifiers: +2 Constitution, 
  +1 Strength. A half-dead is resistant to 
  harm, and able to overcome many physical 
  limitations.
  Creature Type: Half-deads have whatev-
  er creature type as their parent species, in 
  addition to the half-dead subtype. For play-
  er characters, options should be limited to 
  player-appropriate species.
  Size: Half-deads are typically Medi-
  um-sized, and thus receive no benefits or 
  penalties for their size.
  Speed: Half-deads have a base speed of 
  30 feet, or 20 feet if they’re Small-sized.
  Languages: Half-deads gain no bonus lan-
  guages.
  Negative Energy 
  Affinity: Half-deads 
  have Resistance to 
  necrotic damage.
  Defensive Traits
  Death’s Endurance: 
  Half-deads are known 
  for their durability. 
  They receive Advan-
  tage on saves against 
  disease and poison, 
  as well as any effects 
  that would cause 
  them to become Ex-
  hausted. Additionally, 
  they gain Resistance 
  to bludgeoning dam-
  age.
  Magical Traits
  Touch of the Grave: 1/day a half-dead 
  can cast chill touch. This ability progresses 
  with your hit dice, and will deal extra dam-
  age as the half-dead gains in level accord-
  ing to the spell.
  Senses Traits
  Darkvision: Half-deads can see perfectly 
  in the dark up to 60 feet.
  Variant Heritages
  The above species description is for gener-
  al half-deads. However, there are several 
  more specific varieties that have manifest-
  ed over centuries of study. While there is 
  still diversity even among those of a single 
  type, they are alike enough to have been 
  grouped under the same general name, 
  and to share similar abilities and charac-
  teristics. The circumstances that created 
  these specific variants tend to be similar, 
  as well, making them spiritual cousins.
  Ghoulborn: Swift and deadly, ghoulborn 
  tend to be marked 
  by vicious claws and 
  tearing maws. While 
  some legends saw 
  they are created by 
  mothers who ate hu-
  man flesh while they 
  were pregnant, others 
  claim that those who 
  managed to fight off 
  ghoul fever may find 
  this condition marks 
  them, or is carried 
  onto their children. 
  The ghoulborn gain 
  two claw attacks that 
  each deal 1d4 slash-
  ing damage, and a 
  bite attack that deals 
  1d6 piercing dam-
  
  23
  age. Additionally, a ghoulborn gains a +2 
  to their Dexterity and +1 to their Consti-
  tution. Lastly, Ghoulborn are immune to 
  ghoul fever, but only receive a +1 bonus 
  against resisting other diseases, as well as 
  poisons. This replaces Touch of the Grave, 
  and alters ability score modifiers and 
  Death’s Endurance.
  Lichkin: Often frail in appearance, lichkin 
  tend to be created as a result of exposure 
  to potent necromantic rites. In some rare 
  cases they may even be created by some-
  one who managed to survive being slain 
  by a high-level necromancy spell, or curse. 
  Lichkin gain a +2 bonus to their Intelli-
  gence and +1 bonus to their Wisdom, as 
  the essence of the magic that created them 
  leaves echoes in their minds. Whenever a 
  lichkin casts a spell to create or take con-
  trol of an undead creature, it increases the 
  total number created or controlled by 1. 
  Anytime a lichkin would gain necromantic 
  taint, they gain 1 points less. A lichkin can 
  cast false life on themselves once per day 
  as a spell-like ability. This spell is cast as 
  if using a 2nd level slot at 4th level, a 3rd 
  level slot at 8th level, and a 4th level slot 
  at 12th level. This replaces Death’s Endur-
  ance and Touch of the Grave, and alters 
  ability score modifiers.
  Wightsoul: Sickly in appearance, often 
  with flesh that seems sallow, or even lep-
  rous, a wightsoul can be recognized by its 
  red eyes that tend to glow with cold light 
  when provoked. Wightsouls are often said 
  to have their origins in an insurmountable 
  will, whether it was as a stillborn child who 
  refused to give up its life, or as a warrior 
  who fell in battle and would not stay down; 
  that determination combined with the right 
  circumstances yields this particular variety 
  of half-dead. Wightsouls receive a +2 to 
  their Wisdom and a +1 to their Constitu-
  tion. Wightsouls do not need to breath, al-
  lowing them to ignore inhaled poisons and 
  spell effects, as well as drowning and suf-
  focation. This also grants them Advantage 
  on Deception checks to appear truly dead. 
  This replaces Touch of the Grave, and al-
  ters ability score modifiers.
  Blackblood: Born from the raw energies 
  that create shambling zombies or clattering 
  skeletons, Blackbloods are easily identified 
  by their dark veins and nearly-absent puls-
  es. A blackblood’s slowed heartbeat means 
  they are immune to the bleeding condition, 
  and they have Resistance against precision 
  damage (such as that dealt by sneak at-
  tack). Blackbloods are immune to disease, 
  as well as to being paralyzed. This replaces 
  Touch of the Grave.
  Breathstealer: Wan and languid, breath-
  stealers are birthed from those who have 
  survived encounters with undead who can 
  sap the strength from the living, or who 
  have had that hunger bored into them 
  through having some of their own life force 
  permanently taken away. Breathstealers 
  gain a +2 to their Dexterity and a +1 to 
  their Charisma. A breathstealer can use 
  vampiric touch 1/day, and at 8th level 
  they’re considered to be using a 4th lev-
  el slot, at 10th level they’re considered to 
  be using a 5th level slot, and at 12th level 
  they’re considered to be using a 6th level 
  slot. This alters ability score modifiers, and 
  replaces Touch of the Grave.
  Ranger Archetype: Death-
  stalker
  The Silver Wraiths tend to rely on magic 
  when dealing with a haunting, or a man-
  ifestation of the corporeal undead. How-
  ever, where spells fail it is the steel of the 
  Deathstalkers that ends the threat. Elite 
  hunters and warriors, the Deathstalkers 
  are uniquely suited to handling the threats 
  of necromancy gone awry.
  Fearless: Deathstalkers must regularly kill 
  creatures that would send even bold war-
  riors screaming. At 3rd level, a Deathstalk-
  er is immune to the frightened condition.
  
  24
  Inured to Corruption: Rot and pestilence 
  are the primary weapons of many undead, 
  and a Deathstalker has learned to over-
  come them. At 7th level a Deathstalker 
  gains Resistance to necrotic damage, or 
  immunity if they already had Resistance. 
  A Deathstalker also gains Resistance to 
  poison and disease (or immunity if they 
  already had Resistance), and immunity to 
  paralysis.
  Refuse the Reaper: A Deathstalker’s 
  sheer will often means they can fight on 
  when they should, by rights, lay down and 
  die. At 11th level a Deathstalker rolls with 
  Advantage against all spells or abilities of 
  the necromancy school, or any spells or 
  abilities that deal necrotic damage.
  Eternal Rest: At 15th level any creature 
  slain by a Deathstalker can never be raised 
  as an undead. Additionally, a Deathstalker 
  ignores any resistances or immunities an 
  undead would normally have to their weap-
  ons (though not to effects like necrotic 
  damage, poison, etc.).
  New Magic Item
  Silver Wraith Guild Ring
  Ring, uncommon (requires attunement)
  A symbol of membership in 
  the exclusive Silver Wraith 
  guild of necromancers, this 
  ring is a silver skull that is 
  traditionally worn on an in-
  dividual’s spellcasting hand. 
  Slightly chill to the touch, 
  the silver always gleams as 
  if it were just polished, and 
  the sockets always brim with 
  shadows even under bright 
  lights.
  Description
  The wearer of this ring can 
  exercise great control over 
  the undead. Any undead created or con-
  trolled by the wearer, either through ani-
  mate dead or create undead, remain per-
  manently under their control until they are 
  destroyed, or that control is relinquished 
  (either by dismissing the spell, the ring 
  bearer’s connection being broken or the 
  ring itself being destroyed). This control 
  extends only to a total number of hit dice 
  of undead equal to the wearer’s hit dice 
  + their spellcasting modifier. Additionally, 
  when using the necromantic taint system, 
  this ring provides a shield against the first 
  10 points of necromantic taint the wear-
  er would take. These points refresh once 
  every 24 hours. If that system is not being 
  utilized, the ring can instead be used to 
  cast false life on the wearer once per day. 
  This ring acts as a focus for any necroman-
  cy spells cast by the wearer.
  New Spell
  Repair Undead
  1st-level necromancy
  Casting Time: 1 action
  Range: Touch
  Components: V, S
  Duration: Instantaneous
  An undead creature you touch 
  regains a number of hit points 
  equal to 1d8 + your spellcast-
  ing modifier. This spell has no 
  effect on living creatures, or 
  constructs.
  At Higher Levels: When you 
  cast this spell using a spell 
  slot of 2nd level or higher, in-
  crease the hit points restored 
  to the undead by 1d8 per 
  spell level above 1st.
  
  25
  “Leaving us so soon?” the young man with the orcish teeth and the rakish glint in his 
  eyes asked as he leaned on the counter. The rustle of parchment maps filled the travel 
  station as other customers planned their routes, and cool air puffed out from grates in 
  the floor where water ran. “It might look pretty straightforward as cities go, but I can 
  promise you that Moüd’s got secrets worth digging for.”
  “I’m sure it does,” Argor said, putting on a smile that was trying to be polite but wasn’t 
  quite managing. “But we’ve done all we came here to do.”
  The orc-blooded man shrugged, as if to say their business was none of his, before 
  spreading his hands on the wooden counter top. “What direction are you going, and 
  when would you like to start going there?”
  “To the coast,” Argor said. “And as soon as can be arranged.”
  The young man pursed his lips, his eyelids narrowing slightly. He looked like a big cat 
  contemplating a course of action. “One of the sand trains leaves this evening, traveling 
  through the night.”
  “That-” Argor started to say before Ceravil cut him off. “Will be fine,” she said, offering a 
  smile of her own. She felt Argor’s irritated gaze on her, but wouldn’t turn to meet it. “We 
  had an unfortunate accident coming here in the first place. Better to trust the guild when 
  it comes to getting out of the desert.”
  “Hard-learned wisdom,” the man said, nodding hard enough to make his long braids 
  sway. “And a lesson I wish I could teach others who come through here.”
  He named a price. Argor bristled slightly, and the negotiation began. Ceravil stepped 
  away to let Argor do what he was best at, running her eyes over the maps and pam-
  phlets. Silkgift caught her eye, as did Hoardreach. Those places were far from here, but 
  after the sights they’d seen in the City of Bones, she felt a need for a change. The smell 
  of a clean sea, or the sights of a place of wonder she’d only ever heard about. Behind 
  her Argor opened his coin purse, carefully counted a fee, and handed it over.
  “I’ll send word when your passage has been arranged,” the man said, giving them an-
  other grin that showed off his too-long lower tusks. “A pleasure doing business with 
  you.”
  “I never want to set foot here again,” Argor grumbled as they turned their steps to the 
  heat of the street. “The dead stay below, the living stay above. That’s the way it’s sup-
  posed to be.”
  “You say that now,” Ceravil said, clucking her tongue and smiling slightly. She watched 
  as the newest arrivals to Moüd came down the street, bearing the accents and fashions 
  of a dozen different lands. She smelled the scents of spices and cooking meats, and 
  looked off in the distance at the bulk of the city’s hanging gardens. “Once the chill in 
  your skin fades, you’ll remember this place more fondly.”
  He grunted, but Ceravil knew. The footsore miles and uncomfortable seats always faded 
  from Argor’s memory, but the wonders he saw in their travels always lingered.
  
  26
  More 5th Edition Compatible Supplements
  10 Ammunition Spells (5E)
  100 Bits of Miscellaneous Tat to Find (5E)
  100 Encounters in a Fey Forest (5E)
  100 Pieces of Flotsam and Jetsam To Find On A Beach (5E)
  100 Random Encounters for on the Road or in the Wilderness (5E)
  A Baker’s Dozen of Rumours (And The Truth Behind Them) (5E)
  Cities of Sundara: Ironfire (5E)
  Links
  Join our mailing list and get a free PDF, The Book of Sixes, which contains 33 d6 tables 
  taken from our fantasy supplements.
  Subscribe to our YouTube channel for product demos, unboxing videos, tutorial videos 
  and more to come.
  Find us on itch.
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  27
  Moüd Map
  
  28
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  System Reference Document 5.1 Copyright 2016, Wizards 
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  Cities of Sundara: Moüd © 2021, eGDC Ltd; Author: Neal 
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