Plague-Mort The Undead

Be a tool after your life, like you've been one during it. Your death and life are but non-events in a game of which you are the pawn. Don't expect things to change for the best, you're in the Abyss, now.

Ruler: Arkach the Laughing (pl/♀tief/M(necr)17/Fated/CE) is the only living mortal in town, and the creator of the undead that now walk its streets. As the archlector of the former Outland's gatetown of Plague-Mort, she worked toward and succeeded in bringing the town into the Abyss. Once the town slid and the inhabitants were dead, she was left to herself surrounded by a sea of corpses. Anyone else would have fled to start a new life some place else.

She was not just anyone. She was a necromancer. And she stayed.

Arkach's last name was given by wonder-knows-who and does not reflect a humorous or happy laugh but rather her nervous, almost hysterical laugh. Though some denizens of Pandemonium seem to express the same kind of frightening hilarity, Arkach is not mad. She laughs because she's powerful and evil, a survivor in the Abyss. She laughs because she wants to seem secure and sure of herself, since the weak don't last long out here. She laughs too because in knowing there's always some bored Tanar'ri lord in search of something to destroy one gets a tiny bit nervous. Maybe she laughs because she's totally, perfectly alone for the first time in for centuries, and someone needs to laugh at her jokes.

Behind the throne: This Plague-Mort is the market of the Abyss, the only town nearby where the tanar'ri and other fiends can trade for Outlandish goods without having to fight for it. Every lord of in the plane of Finite Portals is ready to destroy any of their number who attack it, Arkach would never have been able to keep the town standing otherwise. However, where the lords can't attack for fear of reprisals, they can pressure. Every decision the archlector takes has been influenced by a demonic lord, and she is sure not to contradict the will of any other. Let's just say she's got very little space for maneuvers.

Description: A few miles from the portal to the Outlands, one amongst the line of ruined ex-gatetowns going by the name of Plague-Mort, is Plague-Mort the Undead, the Abyssal Market. Here, the powerful Tanar'ri can get a supply of Outlandish goods coming in from the current Abyssal gatetown. The Market is held by armies of zombies and animated skeletons, and commanded by a few intelligent yet still controllable undead, like ju-ju zombies and skeleton warriors. Deals are ratified in town only by the quasits and mephits - any more powerful fiend approaching the town is considered an invader. Deals are paid in advance and goods are delivered by undead. Clients who damage the "delivery men" never receive deliveries again until proper reparation is made.

This whole game is working out well and jink flows in vast quantities toward the pocket of Arkach, a woman some believe to be one of the richest mortals in the Abyss.

The city is neat and tidy yet awfully silent, and shows no special evidence of wealth, with the exception of the archlector's palace, overgrown and overly opulent. Since non-sentient undead do not need a home (they work 24/7) all the other buildings have been converted to storage, but one.

Interesting sites:

"The Palace of Wonders and Eminences" is an inn held by Ignoroth, a quasit Akrach received in payment for a minor deal. It provides rest, food and entertainment for the little emissaries dealing here. And, incredibly on this cursed plane, it does it all for free. Akrach makes her jink from trade not hosteling, after all.

Of course, the service is far from wondrous, and the place is in deep in disrepair, due to the quite undisciplined hosts and guests. The undead otherwise keep the city in good shape. The food is not exactly fine either. Yet the place has some lingering ambiance as it used to be the manor of the richest merchant in the city (now a zombie deliverer, like every other former mortal inhabitants of the city). Huge halls, luxurious furniture, statues and fountains, the place is truly beautiful; if a bit tacky at times.

Only the least powerful adventurers will be let in town, and then only if they have a large scale order to deliver. But for the ones who visit, this "palace" is absolutely safe, as long as his nerves can withstand the constant noise, fighting, and other disagreements caused by the mephit and quasit customers.

Visitors generally do not stay long, and they rarely get involved with the town's matters in any way other than the deal they're here to conclude. Ignoroth himself stays ignorant of the whereabouts of his mistress. He knows perfectly well that his life is at stake, for no good Fated likes to share secrets with others, Arkach no less than any other member of her faction.

The militia: The town's best protections are the vigilant eyes of the Abyssal princes. But a cutter knows that having a back-up is no luxury in this plane. So the few powerful undead in the city, skeleton warriors, mummies, ju-ju zombies and the like are well armed and armored with magical equipment. Of course, the main line of defense is Arkach herself, who's quite a challenge; she has survived - and prospered - in the Abyss for centuries. And of course she's likely to have a plan C, D, and probably E and F too. The smart cutter will notice that there are about five thousand animated skeletons in the place as well.Current Chant: In a city where every inhabitant is dead, mindless and mute, not much changes. Yet, usual packages are currently stocked in the former barns, unusually close to the palace, and undead horses were recently spotted in town a type of undead never common before. It seems like the laughing necromancer is planning some expedition. If there was anyone to spread rumors, you might hear that she's planning to drop this township idea to deliver high value goods at long-distance from now on. Or that she's gained enough jink for her needs and plans to move away, back to some more populated plane. Of course, there's not many talkative chaps around and the quasits and mephits are solidly intimidated by the archlector, so odds are you won't hear nothin'. Not easily at least.