Nocturne

“Why would a person come to a place like this of their own free will? To study necromancy? Or just to hear the song of the Void?”

— Aramin, aether-freighter captain

The Aether is never exactly safe for humans, but no part of it is more dangerous than the Howling Void, the vast cancerous well of darkness at its center. Even if one avoids the Void’s ravenous gravitational pull and the feral ghosts which issue from it, merely being in its presence is hazardous. Most aethernauts are more than happy to steer well clear of it.
To a rare few, however, the keening of the Void is a siren song. Those who prefer the feeling of terra firma beneath their feet may travel to the Ghostlands to study the Void’s effect on stable reality—but if one wants to get as close as possible to the thing itself, there is nowhere better to go than the city of Nocturne.
Nocturne is by far the closest settlement to the Howling Void; popular conjecture holds that its founders, a cabal of singularly powerful necromancers, chose this location to augment their powers, but who can say? The Black Synod guards its secrets jealously.

The Black Synod

The origins of the group which founded Nocturne are shrouded in mystery; nobody knows where its members come from or who they used to be. They do not appear to age; in the three-and-a-half centuries since Nocturne’s founding, they have remained its rulers.
In that time, they have amassed a bevy of undead servants to do their bidding. The Synod doesn’t much care about the taboo against raising unaltered human bodies which prevails elsewhere in Orphan, and Nocturne is home to a good number of animated skeletons, gilded and ornamented until they are works of art as much as they are servants. Still others are even more impressive feats of necromancy: fanciful amalgams of bone, or apparently sapient constructs who act as stewards and butlers.
The Synod rules the city as a group, although formal meetings between all of its members are few and far between; it delegates the more menial tasks of the city’s day-to-day running to its undead lackeys.

A Dreary Place

Prior to the construction of Waste-Walker, the safest route between the Aether’s hemispheres was via Nocturne and the Ghostlands. These days, this route sees much less traffic. It is perhaps telling that the average aethernaut would rather brave the Radiant Waste than so much as stop for provisions in Nocturne.
Nocturne is a great necropolis of an aether station, where cathedralesque buildings loom over silent boulevards. Lamps splash their feeble yellow light on their black walls, only further accentuating the ever-present darkness. The Void is visible to the naked eye from the night-dark streets, and its ceaseless howling, while not deafening, is always audible.
The architecture of Nocturne displays a recurring motif of death; the facades of buildings are carved with representations of bones and skeletons, or ornamented, ossuary-like, with actual remains. In places, the city is a patchwork of material and ethereal architecture.
At the center of Nocturne stands the Stele, which, according to the Synod’s official history, was the very first structure erected in the city. It is an imposing monument: an obelisk fully twenty feet tall, made of pale, smooth stone, unmarred by any inscription. It is unknown what, if anything, it is supposed to symbolize or commemorate—but it is apparently important enough to the members of the Synod to appear on Nocturne’s flag.

The City of the Dead

Further contributing to its deserted, sepulchral feel, Nocturne’s population is tiny for a city of its size—and its living population is even smaller. The grand majority of Nocturne’s inhabitants are undead servants of the Synod, and the remainder is mainly diplomats from other countries. Individuals who come to Nocturne and settle down of their own volition are few and far between.
Some who travel to Nocturne are magically inclined individuals, there to study the art of necromancy. Others come with scientific aims: to study the Howling Void or spectral architecture, or to research the history of the city. The Synod, in its austere way, welcomes these outsiders—but those who ask too many questions are invariably rebuffed.
Over the course of its history, there have been very few births in Nocturne. This is due in part to its small population size, but also to the deleterious effects of living in such proximity to the Howling Void. Babies delivered in Nocturne are almost always stillborn; the few that survive are invariably fetchlings.

Resting in Peace

Orphan’s other countries have always been a little wary of Nocturne. Not only does it occupy a strategically significant position, situated as it is on one of the Aether’s choke points, but the wizards of the Synod are also extremely powerful. They could prove a serious threat, should they ever put their minds to it.
Fortunately, they seem content with their dark corner of the Aether, and appear to have little interest in conquest. In fact, Nocturne can hardly even be said to possess anything resembling an army. Still, even despite this fact, no one would be foolish enough to try to invade the city. The Synod’s mere presence is an effective deterrent.

NOCTURNE

---

Heads of state: The Black Synod
Languages: Aetheric
Currency: Nocturnal mori