Thanastis

Thanastis. The Eye of Midnight. The Great Necropolis. The First Hell.

Thanastis, coveted jewel of the Dark Mother's interplanar empire. Where Her dread legions gather between battles. Where the Mausoleum looms tall over sprawling deadlands.

There, ancient engines and horrors rest beneath wind-scoured ruins, awaiting the Great Matron's clarion. Fell rituals that have doomed entire worlds line its profane libraries, guarded by Her cult of thaumaturges, devils, and constructs.

There, Moryac Aletor Thalor fulfills his House's millennium-long contract to the Dark Mother.

A venerable thaumaturge and inheritor of an honored yet demanding role, all Moryac wishes for is an end to his indenture. With each passing year, increasingly decaying infrastructure threatens to spiral beyond his cabal's control, to awaken the Dark Mother's martyred dead. Worse, the Mausoleum has felt more alive than ever, with many cabalists reporting unprecedented oddities. Gazes felt brushing against their spines, protective wards fraying decades earlier than they should, voices whispering from the inscrutable beyond. It had always been rather temperamental, yet never somalevolent.

All Moryac wants is a quiet evening to study ancient grimoires and an open space for practical demonstrations. A good pot of tea, perhaps. A warm bed, after all is said and done. Yet, it has been months since he last had any leisure time, and the Mausoleum has been on war footing for nearly three years.

Twenty generations or a thousand years of exemplary service was his House's price. Three-hundred have completed by his family thus far, but he is the last thaumaturge of his line. Over the last few months, one question has burned in the back of his mind:

Will he be able to serve the rest?