Court of the Dead

Your mortality has reached its end. Or perhaps you are a wandering force from the True Spirit Realm? Either way, your paths converge to the nexus that is The Underworld. No longer bound to your physical shell, all that you carry with you are the hopes, dreams, memories, and your own very soul of course.

Do you see the veil? Watch as it parts, granting you safe passage afforded by The Alltaker himself. This veil is a border of perpetual fog to which the Celestial Realms, and the Mortal Realm of Earth cannot see through. Do not attempt to go through it! Take my hand. I will guide you through the opening. Understand that once we pass through here, you will enter the Underworld. I have much to show you.


The thriving capital City of the Dead where spirit and soul born-beings dwell. Its foundations and bizarre structures are made from wood, metal, flesh, bone, dream, and arcane magic. Citizens of all shapes and sizes, crawl, walk, and fly through these streets. Illverness is the heart of our society, with its high walls and large gate to keep out the foul and wild, the only civilized bastion in this realm.



The large tower you see blooming at the center of this land is the Dirth Forge. Note the constant stream of etherea as it's being channeled up and out to the Celestial Realms. It is a shining beacon and constant reminder of the Dark Deed that we must accomplish to appease the Angels and Demons. Now look as that same etherea bleeds out into the canals and rivers veining throughout the city. This is sullied energy unfit for Heaven and Hell, and unruly for Death to use for his own agenda. Underneath the Forge is the seat of Death’s Court, where the factions gather to discuss important matters.

For every ferried spirit or soul that gravitates to our cause, there are countless others who stray from our path. Lost, or driven into madness upon the revelation of their new reality. Some view this as a prison, or an asylum, but the bulk of its work lies in the rehabilitation of the damaged.

The most selfless of our kind dedicate their lives to healing whoever is bound within these walls. Its Warden is Malavestros, a controversial figure known for his unpredictability. Despite what others may think of him, no one is better suited to look after the outliers than him.

Also known as the Armory of Endings, within its walls are a countless array of weapons fixed dramatically in stasis, all with their own story to tell. Don’t touch! If you’re in need of a weapon, you must speak to Ruse, caretaker of this great hall. While you may feel drawn to a particular item, she always has the final say. You should also know that this is not the only place one can retrieve a weapon. Many things have been found along the outskirts. Items not of this realm, but weapons tossed from the Celestial Realms and have found their way through the veil into our land.

Fortified by the bones of fallen warriors and invaders, it stands over one hundred feet tall. Throughout the ages it has repelled monsters from the Underworld’s outskirts, and withstood countless attacks both grand and laughable. They say its power comes from the united powers of the factions, and the will of those who defend it. However, it has never been tested against the legions of Heaven or Hell...

A gauntlet of statues that at first appears to honor legendary beings, though upon closer inspection is anything but. Encapsulated within these sculptures are the very souls and spirits themselves, martyrs of greed and cruelty, power-mad rulers, and repulsive killers that go against Death’s vision. It is hard for some of us to turn a new leaf from the thorny vines of our past selves. Look to Grendall’s Pillars as a reminder for all those who abuse their powers here in the Underworld.

This is the grand hall for combat, a labyrinth of dungeons made to test your mettle. Trials are set here for those to be appointed to a special duty within the Court. All are welcomed to participate, especially during the annual tournaments.


Understand that this structure framed with its many clocks do not determine the flow of things in the Underworld. Here, there is no concept of time, and though there is a cycle of illumination and shadow made from the glow of the Celestial Realms, there is no consistency likened to day or night. No warmth comes from whatever light is imbued upon us, and the darkness felt is that which we see in our own reflections. No, the Tower of Mocking Time is reserved for those that came from the Mortal Realm, a boding reminder to hold onto your memories for as long as you can, for all things eventually fade...

Perhaps the most cherished institution in Illverness. This grand repository for knowledge contains a near limitless catalog of tomes and parchments from many realities. With time an inconsequential factor here, scholars have spent eons organizing its sea of bookcases. There are two branches: The Maledictory, where artifacts get processed, and Conscientia Infinitum, where the more controversial and dangerous works are kept. The private libraries of Voxxingard, the Bone Faction’s headquarters located outside of Illverness, is the only establishment that rivals the Higst Athenaeum.


To truly experience Illverness as a community, one must venture into any of the four theaters of memory. With the exception of the Operata Mortalis, the other three are always on the move. Don’t concern yourself with their exact location; your desires will draw you toward them. Upon entering, your mind will connect to a stream of memories that aren’t your own. Performers will convey scenes like a stage performance as you embrace their thoughts, feelings, and emotions, shared together with everyone else in attendance. And should you allow it, your own memories can be offered to fellow patrons and vice versa. If you ever wanted to tell your story, these are the places to do it.


This vast bazaar is a city of its own within Illverness. Items from other realms are scavenged from The Wallows, and other parts of the Underworld. The entire area was once a massive crypt, the stone graves now serving as stalls for merchandise. One can get easily lost in its labyrinth of vendors, who set up shop wherever they can.