Eox (Ih-ox)

Eox is among the most mysterious of the Pact Worlds, and it is likely the member planet most feared by citizens of the rest of the system. It is a dead world, killed long before the Gap in what is believed to have been fallout from an interplanetary war fought when most of the Pact Worlds’ idea of advanced technology was limited to metallurgy and printing presses. Most of Eox’s inhabitants are undead, with the most powerful— the bone sages—serving as regional lords with nearabsolute local authority. These centuries-old masters of magic and technology brook no interference with their plans, but they carefully keep their experiments and long-term schemes within the bounds of what the Absalom Pact permits member worlds to perform in their own territories… or at least, no outsiders have successfully proven otherwise

Geography

What was once a verdant planet with an ecosystem capable of sustaining life is now nothing more than a charred husk with a thin, poisonous atmosphere awash with radiation. With no remaining seas and little of the planet’s history surviving to the modern era, the massive mesa of Remembrance Rock serves as a planetary monument of all that Eox has lost. The Atraskien Shelf is the remnant of what used to be the continent of Atraskia, the largest landmass on Eox, before the world faced its cataclysm. The area remains somewhat raised above the basins and hollows that were once seabeds, though the massive upheavals that created the Facinora Basin also altered the relative altitudes of many areas, leveled mountain ranges, boiled bedrock, and altered much of the landscape. The atmosphere of the Atraskien Shelf is somewhat less toxic than the rest of Eox, but it has many more radioactive zones. Deminas Hollow is a lowland area formed by the basin of what was once the Deminas Ocean, before the seas of Eox boiled away. The hollow is the largest of the lowlands, stretching across the equator of the planet. Many areas of the Deminas Hollow are unclaimed by any bone sage, and home to both wandering bands of starving undead and small herds of the mighty ellicoths that are among the only fauna to survive Eox’s devastation. Those settlements within the hollow generally have stronger, taller walls for defense, and the notable wild areas are considered unsafe even by native undead. Another artifact of Eox’s disaster is a continent-sized crater, hundreds of miles deep and thousands across, known as the Facinora Basin, though the origin of that name was lost to history well before the Gap. The basin cuts close to the core of Eox, so the planet’s central heat and radioactive materials make the basin churn with lava and toxic gases even millennia after it formed. The region is extremely dangerous even by Eoxian standards, and most residents give it a wide berth. The basin is demarcated by a ring of mountains called the Fringe, which are home to a handful of twisted creatures that love heat but aren’t completely immune to fire. The southern cap of Eox is a vast, broken plain with few undead settlements. Though ellicoths are rare here, many varieties of the strange plants that cling to life on Eox can be found in this area. The original name of the region is unknown, as is its nature prior to Eox’s fall, but the gray, blasted rock and colorless scrubs common here give the territory its modern name: Gray Hollow. The vast, flat, northern reaches of Eox are known as Lacustria Hollow, the basin of what was once the arctic Lacustria Sea. Though no major settlements exist here, the area is littered with the wrecked remains of airships, diving spheres, sailing vessels, submarines, and underwater cities from the time when it was a thriving ocean beneath an eternal ice pack. What appear to be centuries of experimental ships, shattered strongholds, submerged ports, and wrecks suggest that before the planet was devastated, the Lacustria Sea was extremely active and saw trade, naval battles, eldritch wars, and even attempts to settle the seafloor. Though bone sages and Starfinders have been exploring these wrecks and runes for centuries, many are buried under hundreds of feet of dust, silt or even molten rocks, and new sites are constantly discovered after chemical sinkholes, earthquakes, or toxic storms. The Eternal Convocation approves more offworld expeditions to the Lacustria Basin than any other part of the planet, though most find nothing but rust and scraps of ancient textiles. As a result of this activity, the protected zone of the Lifeline was built at the southern edge of the hollow. The few cities on the world—strange settlements known collectively as the Necropoleis—are sprawling mixes of ancient tombs, high-tech mausoleums, and lifeless offices and factories. Some have accommodations for living visitors, specifically the city of Orphys and the trade zones of the Lifeline, but while they are generally considered the safest areas of the planet, no part of Eox is truly safe.

History

Residents

Some of Eox’s original living inhabitants, the elebrians, survived the cataclysm that destroyed the planet’s ecosystem in sealed underground bunkers, but the extent of the devastation made it clear that their old way of life could not be easily restored. Elebrian leaders conferred and decided to turn themselves and much of their population into undead beings, enabling them to survive on the surface. These spellcasters were the first bone sages, and many continue to rule the planet. However, a small population of living elebrians still exists to this day. They are often considered second-class citizens, relegated to settlements with breathable artificial atmospheres and radiation shielding. Though still relatively small, the largest contingent of living elebrians can be found in the Halls of the Living, an underground city that acts as a backdrop for various cruel shows broadcast for the rest of the planet’s amusement. The undead far outnumber the living on Eox and range from cannibalistic ghouls to charming vampires and from skeletal bone troopers to spellcasting necrovites. Except for the bone sages, who are almost all necrovites, social standing isn’t dependent on the type of undead a citizen is, though usually only the more powerful undead have the intelligence and drive to own their own businesses or climb the social ladder

Society

Politically, Eox is divided into individual fiefdoms. In each fiefdom, a bone sage—a title granted to only the most politically and magically powerful Eoxians—rules absolutely over potentially thousands of vassals, both intelligent and monstrous. While the bone sages constantly bicker and battle among themselves, they present a powerful unified front to the rest of the Pact Worlds, one that, contrary to popular rumor, is not so much evil as coldly amoral and utilitarian. The Eternal Convocation, a group of bone sages who set aside personal differences to come together and make decisions regarding Eox’s dealings with the rest of the system, maintains this unified front. From the jointly controlled necropolis of Orphys, the Convocation assigns Eoxian ambassadors to other Pact Worlds, appoints representatives to the Pact Council on Absalom Station, and establishes planetwide laws regarding when visitors from other worlds are allowed on Eox and how they are to be treated. Though the bone sages of the Eternal Convocation are not always among the most powerful of bone sages, their centuries-long unity in enforcing Eox’s Absalom Pact commitments has proven they have the numbers and political acumen that make them, collectively, more than a match for individual bone sages who might oppose them. In matters beyond those of dealing with the Pact Worlds and citizens from other planets, however, the Eternal Convocation is no more unified than any other collection of oligarchs, but conflicts between bone sages are rarely solved with direct combat. As timeless beings beyond the need for sleep or fear of age, bone sages know that such feuds are among the riskiest activities they can possibly engage in. Instead, when two bone sages disagree, they are likely to apply pressure to one another, trying to create problems that take an opponent’s time and money to fix, until it becomes clear that acquiescing to a rival’s demands is less burdensome than a lifeless cold war. When issues must be settled more quickly, proxy wars are often established, with third parties (never the Eternal Convocation, but sometimes the Conclave of Whispers) agreeing to enforce the result should one of the two undead rulers opt to renege after a loss. These proxy wars are frequently arranged as specific blood sports within the Halls of the Living, not only ensuring a large audience to guard against cheating, but also generating revenue to help offset the expense of the conflict. Only if a bone sage is pushed too far does the idea of eldritch vengeance become appealing. As long as private disputes do not spill into others’ realms or violate Pact World rules, they are generally allowed to continue without interference until one side is destroyed. Of course, if either side is weakened too much, another coldly calculating bone sage may join the fray to expand her own holdings. This laissez-faire attitude is generally carried down through the ranks of lesser oligarchs, important agents and servants, and the undead rank-and-file citizens. In most necropolises, the laws are simple and designed primarily to ensure the ruling class is not bothered or threatened. For example, while it is generally forbidden to attack other undead, this is a pragmatic measure designed to ensure enough workers and guards exist to protect the rulers of each settlement. Minor violations are likely to be overlooked as long as they do not create significant problems. The undead citizens of Eox know that they will not age, weaken, or lose their lifeless vitality. There is no concept of retirement, nor any real need for it. A ghoul tasked with guarding a wall knows that in 3 centuries, both the wall and the need to guard it will likely continue to exist and the ghoul will remain capable of filling that need. Further, Eox’s undead population tends to be stable, with no births, no deaths from natural causes, and enough new bodies coming in for trade or sale to ensure a slow trickle of undead to replace those lost to accidents or violence. Low-ranking undead’s lives of endless menial labor are undertaken not out of a sense of duty, but for a need to gain both credits and whatever is needed to sate their hunger. If a common Eoxian fears anything, it is having some supernatural hunger go unsatisfied, driving the undead to increasing desperation and eventual madness—the unclaimed wastes of Eox are filled with packs of roving undead driven by a desire to feed on living prey that no longer exists. For the most part, bone sages consider such packs to be useful as early defenses of their walled strongholds and a good way to ensure enemies of Eox do not establish secret bases on the planet. Beyond the largest and most powerful cities of the undead, thousands of smaller settlements and strongholds are scattered across the nearly lifeless world, each controlled by its own undead overlord. Many are younger or weaker bone sages, either incapable of or uninterested in ruling larger areas, but some are lesser undead of other types seeking to control as vast an area as their own abilities (and tolerance of the major bone sages) will allow. These settlements are significantly less stable than the Necropoleis, but their rules are also often less aloof, and more in need of assistance in the form of trade, mercenaries, or agents to handle issues beyond Eox.

Conflicts and Threats

More than once in recent centuries, champions of light and virtue have suggested that Eox and its undead populace represent a clear and present danger to all life within the system. After all, many undead feed on the living, and Eox is one of the few worlds known to have launched planetary assaults against its neighbors, even if such actions were in the ancient past. The idea of accepting a world of undead tyrants as allies does not sit well with many citizens of the various Pact Worlds. But as the bone sages are fond of reminding other planetary governments, Eox was the very first world to sign the Absalom Pact, and though many Pact World citizens are suspicious of the long-term plans of the denizens of Eox, there is no doubt that their power was instrumental in defending the system during conflicts with the Veskarium and later against the first attacks of the Swarm. The bone sages and their animated corpse minions are distasteful to many within the Pact Worlds, but Eox’s leaders are very careful to maintain diplomatic ties through the system. As feared and mistrusted as the bone sages are, their political machinations have so far prevented the authorities of other worlds from breaking the Absalom Pact’s terms in order to attack them. Of course, not everyone in the Pact Worlds avoids dealing with the undead of Eox. Numerous groups work with citizens of Eox to seek out and oppose the Corpse Fleet, the undead space armada created by defecting soldiers when the bone sages signed the Absalom Pact. Mercenaries and merchants alike appreciate the opportunities brought about by the cadaver markets where bodies are bought and sold, the trade in necrograft augmentations and dread technologies shunned on other worlds, and the academies that draw in engineers and spellcasters with their vast stores of knowledge. In the unpopulated stony wastes outside of the necropolises, strange, non-sentient creatures wander and hunt, thanks to centuries of radiation and sources of other magical pollution. Some of these beasts have adapted to feast on the necromantic energy that sustains the massive undead population, but this makes them no less dangerous to living beings. Chief among the natural threats of Eox are the elephantine ellicoths, whose touch can drain the souls of both the living and the undead.