Moüd
Though Moüd has existed for over five thousand years, the city was lost to myth and legend centuries ago. A time capsule of lost culture, language and architecture, it has since been reborn by the efforts of the Necromancers known as the Silver Wraiths as a center of commerce, education and transit through the empty waste of the Akkian Desert.
Something went wrong, however, and the well they formed was unstable. Worse, the combined power of those involved 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 Shadowed Helm upon his brow, seated himself 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 remaining wizards and sorcerers wove and empowered 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 themselves.
Aban Suir knew that no matter how strong his mind or will, no living person could hold back the tide of power. It would destroy him and crash against the wards, and sooner or later they would crack and the breach would grow into the world. So he did the only thing he could, no matter how reviled, and used the energies he was channeling to become an undead, skeletal thing himself. A Lich like the Pharaohs he so vehemently sought to destroy. Freed from his mortal concerns, Aban Suir held the breach for milennia and would become known in myth and legend as the Undying Prince
But Moud was not destined to remain in obscurity forever. Obrax was not the first person Aban Suir reached out to, but many were declared mad and cast out and the young Akkian Nomad was the first to make it to the Dead City.
Obrax's journey into the desert was fraught with peril, and his people being so superstitious about the ancient buried cities in the desert (especially the city of Moud) he was outcast and unable to rely on their oases and supplies.
It was nearly two months before another living person saw Obrax, and the young man had been changed by what he'd seen out in the wastes. Where he had been hale, hearty, and handsome before he was now nearly unrecognizable with his haggard and gaunt skin gone pale and hanging off his bones. He had lost several of his teeth and one of his eyes was milk-white with blindness. When Obrax came to the chapter house of the Silver Wraiths in Zandria, he was at first mistaken for a beggar. It was only the extreme necromantic energy radiating off of him that set off warning to the guild members.
Obrax told a tale of finding the roads of black obsidian that lead to Moud and found a city of time-worn stone filled with half-fallen towers, sand-swept streets, and hordes of undead. He spoke of a massive mausoleum that lead to a warren of tunnels beneath the city, and of a swirling energy of shadow and death that called itself the Undying Prince.
Lastly, the guild brought Obrax. For though he had been permanently changed by his experience in the city, he was still the only person to have seen what lay inside Moud and escape to tell the tale.
The journey was not easy, as the Akkian Nomads closed of their oases and mistrusted the strange outsiders. It was only through the guild's own prowess and their skeletal elephant trains that they managed to make it to the city and establish a foothold and realize why Moud had been abandoned: the place radiated nercomantic energy. The invisible taint spilling from the city revitalized their undead excorts, but it would kill any living thing trapped inside within days. So they began to work.
They shored up the wards and defenses of the city, sent raiding parties of Deathstalkers in to slay the wandering undead and map the city. They found water, and though it tasted as if it had been boiled, it was the most precious resource they could find in the middle of the desert. It took five years of sustained effort from nearly the entire guild, but eventially Moud becane a city of it's own again—with the sight of their sand trains pulled by skeletal elephants becoming common in the desert.
Akkian Princedom
Once the seat of one of the great Akkian Royal Families, Moud was a thriving hub of commerce, trade, and culture. When Akkia began to turn towards Sun worship in the late 2400s, Moud was the one city that stood apart—proclaiming the Sun Pharaohs and their pursuit of immortality blasphemous and heretical. Things reached a breaking point in the early 2500s, when the wizard king of Moud, Aban Suir lead the ritual to pierce the veil into the realm of death in an attempt to bring justice to the unholy kings of Akkia and their corrupt form of immortality.Something went wrong, however, and the well they formed was unstable. Worse, the combined power of those involved 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 Shadowed Helm upon his brow, seated himself 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 remaining wizards and sorcerers wove and empowered 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 themselves.
Aban Suir knew that no matter how strong his mind or will, no living person could hold back the tide of power. It would destroy him and crash against the wards, and sooner or later they would crack and the breach would grow into the world. So he did the only thing he could, no matter how reviled, and used the energies he was channeling to become an undead, skeletal thing himself. A Lich like the Pharaohs he so vehemently sought to destroy. Freed from his mortal concerns, Aban Suir held the breach for milennia and would become known in myth and legend as the Undying Prince
Rumor from the Sands
Were it not for the disaster of Moud, some would claim the city was lucky—as it's downfall lead it to avoid the Glorious Empire of Ferro entirely and especially miss The Akkian War and the wholesale slaughter that scoured the Pharaohs and their cities from the face of Kronos.But Moud was not destined to remain in obscurity forever. Obrax was not the first person Aban Suir reached out to, but many were declared mad and cast out and the young Akkian Nomad was the first to make it to the Dead City.
Obrax's journey into the desert was fraught with peril, and his people being so superstitious about the ancient buried cities in the desert (especially the city of Moud) he was outcast and unable to rely on their oases and supplies.
It was nearly two months before another living person saw Obrax, and the young man had been changed by what he'd seen out in the wastes. Where he had been hale, hearty, and handsome before he was now nearly unrecognizable with his haggard and gaunt skin gone pale and hanging off his bones. He had lost several of his teeth and one of his eyes was milk-white with blindness. When Obrax came to the chapter house of the Silver Wraiths in Zandria, he was at first mistaken for a beggar. It was only the extreme necromantic energy radiating off of him that set off warning to the guild members.
Obrax told a tale of finding the roads of black obsidian that lead to Moud and found a city of time-worn stone filled with half-fallen towers, sand-swept streets, and hordes of undead. He spoke of a massive mausoleum that lead to a warren of tunnels beneath the city, and of a swirling energy of shadow and death that called itself the Undying Prince.
Raising a Dead City
It took the Silver Wraiths months to marshal their forces, for they knew if even a fraction of what Obrax spoke of was true, it would require the resources of the guild as a whole. Nercomancers were marshalled from all over the continent, Deathstalkers recalled from their pilgrimages and most importantly, undead summoned to make the journey.Lastly, the guild brought Obrax. For though he had been permanently changed by his experience in the city, he was still the only person to have seen what lay inside Moud and escape to tell the tale.
The journey was not easy, as the Akkian Nomads closed of their oases and mistrusted the strange outsiders. It was only through the guild's own prowess and their skeletal elephant trains that they managed to make it to the city and establish a foothold and realize why Moud had been abandoned: the place radiated nercomantic energy. The invisible taint spilling from the city revitalized their undead excorts, but it would kill any living thing trapped inside within days. So they began to work.
They shored up the wards and defenses of the city, sent raiding parties of Deathstalkers in to slay the wandering undead and map the city. They found water, and though it tasted as if it had been boiled, it was the most precious resource they could find in the middle of the desert. It took five years of sustained effort from nearly the entire guild, but eventially Moud becane a city of it's own again—with the sight of their sand trains pulled by skeletal elephants becoming common in the desert.
Founding Date
9030AC
Alternative Name(s)
City of Bone
Type
Large city
Owning Organization
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