The Ossuary Dominion 

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“Let the living sweat. My dead do not complain. They simply build the future.” 

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Where kingdoms rot under the weight of tradition and divine tyranny, the Ossuary Dominion rises—an empire not of gilded illusions or fragile democracies, but of bone, smoke, and bound will. Governed by Her Sable Magnificence, Xandera of Hextor, the Dominion is both a sovereign nation and a sacrament to undeath. Its spires pierce the heavens not to pray—but to remind the gods they are no longer required.

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Foundation of Bone & Bloom

The Dominion’s genesis lies in rebellion—not against tyrants, but against the cosmic hypocrisy of life and death itself. It was born when necromancy, long whispered as taboo, was formalized into institution, guild, and statecraft.

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Xandera did not simply raise the dead. She repurposed them. Not as soldiers alone, but as laborers, architects, harvesters, and artisans.

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Today, the Dominion is a sprawling necrocracy where the undead toil without rest or need, birthing an economic engine unrivaled across the continent. Factories pulse with ceaseless productivity. Mines echo with the chiselings of corpses too mangled to speak but still capable of carving. Foundries belch black smoke into a blood-red sky—not from slave labor, but from loyal, tireless husks, made to work beyond death.

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This deathless economy has allowed the Dominion to underbid its neighbors, flooding trade networks with surplus goods, necroforged tools, and enchanted artifacts that would cost thrice as much elsewhere. Other nations grumble about ethics; meanwhile, their nobles purchase Dominion steel for their armies and Dominion silk for their beds.

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Industries of the Dead

The Bloom-Factories
These massive temple-factories are where undead workers weave enchanted textiles from spider silk and embalmer’s thread, blending artistry with arcana. Some are living tapestries—stitched from the skin of condemned nobles, enchanted to whisper secrets as they sway in the breeze.

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The Graven Mines
Beneath the Dominion’s fetid hills, ghoulish miners extract necromantic ores—soulstone, cryptite, marrowglass—that fuel their golemcraft and wardsmiths. Accidents are common. Mourning is not.

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Ossuary Workshops
Skeletal artisans chisel old bones into jewelry, charms, and ceremonial armor. Every item holds a whisper of the life it once belonged to, adding “personality” to each product. These goods are sold in distant black markets and elite necromancer courts alike.

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The Barrow Caravans
Nomadic bands of embalmed oxen and bone-drivers ferry goods through the swamps and ruins, keeping trade alive even where roads have succumbed to entropy. These caravans serve as both merchant fleet and mobile fortress.

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Social Order of the Dominion

The living serve as visionaries, managers, artists, and commanders. The dead do everything else.

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Citizenship is not denied to the dead—they are posthumously conscripted into service, often ceremonially, their essence fed into a new body or vocation. Some nobles even choose to die early, returning in gilded skeletons or barrow-golems to continue their legacy in a more “efficient” form.

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Magic deemed heretical elsewhere is not only tolerated—it is celebrated. Blood alchemy, soul grafting, parasitic familiars, and necrotic flora cultivation are all regulated professions, taught in Bone Academies and certified by the Hollow Seal.

Even in death, one may rise in status—if not in flesh, then in utility.

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Military and Defense

The Dominion's military is composed of:

• Marrowguard: Intelligent undead commanders and tacticians

• Wight Vanguards: Speed-enhanced zombies modified for combat

• Disruptor Golems: Flesh-and-metal abominations stitched from captured monsters

• Living Officers: Mages, necroseers, and enchanters who guide the horde

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Territorial defense is further bolstered by bioluminescent necroflora, which scream when disturbed and spray bone-spores to paralyze intruders. Ancient barrows, repurposed as military bunkers, dot the swampland like cysts ready to rupture.

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Political Philosophy

The Dominion believes that death is not the end, and thus, should not be feared nor revered, but utilized. All things that rot feed progress. All gods that demand praise without labor are false. The Dominion seeks to resurrect the Betrayed God—the first sovereign of undeath, cast out by the heavens—and in doing so, reshape the world into one where beauty, obedience, and purpose persist eternally.

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Reputation Among Other Nations

• Feared by priests, who call Xandera “The Black Bloom” and warn that her dominion is a blasphemy.

• Respected by traders, who profit immensely from her underpriced exports.

• Coveted by scholars, who envy her unrestricted magical institutions.

• Despised by kings, who see in her the end of bloodlines—and the rise of perfectly loyal subjects who cannot die.

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“Let them build empires of flesh and faith. I will build a kingdom that will never rot—because I already rule the rot.”

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The Seven Pillars of Kilk-mire

"An empire is not built on stone alone, but on blood, shadow, coin, and oath. I do not fear chaos—I employ it." 

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1. The Thieves Guild – “The Hollow Tongue”

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Hidden beneath the moss-dripping bones of Kilk-mire’s foundations, the Hollow Tongue thrives in the sewer-veins and forgotten crypt-tunnels. These are not mere cutpurses, but an entrenched shadow economy that pays in silence, secrets, and silver.
The Guild survives by bribing officials, executing favors, and smuggling magical contraband in exchange for protection.

While Xandera publicly condemns thievery, she privately recognizes their utility—a grease that keeps the gears of a decaying city from grinding to a halt.

Specialties: Smuggling forbidden tomes, grave-looting, magical item trafficking, espionage.
Government Relationship: Semi-sanctioned via bribes and blackmail. Used by noble houses to settle vendettas quietly.

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2. The Black Hand – “Fleshless Mercy”

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Veiled in red silks and shadowglass masks, the Black Hand are the state’s most lethal instrument—assassins not just tolerated, but funded by the empire. Trained in alchemical poisons, silence-magic, and necrotic nerve-stitches, they are dispatched by decree from the Spinal Palace to remove traitors, rival nobles, rogue mages, or faithless clergy.

Every death they deliver is considered an act of mercy—cutting rot from the body politic.

Specialties: Public disappearances
Government Relationship: Directly under the Grand Necroseer. Operates from the Red Vault within the palace crypts.

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3. The Inquisitors – “Veilkeepers of the Spiral Eye”

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Clad in ossuary robes and crowned with glyph-inscribed helms, the Inquisitors serve as Kilk-mire’s magical bureaucracy. They regulate sorcery, catalogue ancient relics, and instruct the public through state-sanctioned arcanums. Far from purely scholarly, they possess enforcement power—capable of exiling rogue mages, confiscating volatile enchantments, and branding flesh with nullifying hexes.

Specialties: Relic recovery, magical law enforcement, spellcraft research, bloodline analysis.
Government Relationship: Operates under the Ministry of Magical Orthodoxy. Xandera herself once served as an Inquisitor.

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4. The Church – “The Blooming Veil”

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Not all in Kilk-mire kneel to decay with dread. The Blooming Veil is a state-aligned religious body that seeks to aid the people, deliver healing magic, and facilitate burial rites in line with necrotic philosophy. They run hospices, plague houses, and death-transition sanctuaries, ensuring the sick and poor are not abandoned—but reborn with dignity or purpose.

Specialties: Healing magic, alms distribution, corpse-preparation, necro-doctrinal rites.
Government Relationship: Operates under ecclesiastical approval. Funded by both tithe and royal decree.

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5. The Spineguard – “Veins of the Bloom”

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Kilk-mire’s law enforcers wear armor shaped like segmented bone, with helms that resemble hollow-eyed sentinels. The Spineguard are more than police—they are ritualistically branded guardians of state doctrine, trained in suppression magic, bonecraft weapons, and crowd enchantment.Their word is law on the streets, and their chain-gangs feed the empire’s labor engine.

Specialties: Civil control, riot suppression, necromantic compliance, relic lockdowns.
Government Relationship: Centralized directly beneath the Minister of Law and Order, appointed by Xandera’s hand.

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6. The Bloodletters – “The Crimson Chorus”

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Housed in the Ossuary Pits of Karn, the Bloodletters are elite gladiators whose violent artistry serves as entertainment and cultural spectacle. Matches range from ritual duels to grand reenactments of mythic wars using summoned undead, summoned horrors, or even bound monsters. Fighters build fame, wealth, and magical sponsorships—some even earn nobility by spilling enough royal blood on the sand.

Specialties: Ritual combat, necrotic weapon arts, fanatical followings.
Government Relationship: Empire-owned coliseums host the games. Fighters pay tribute for protection and fame.

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7. The Walking Dead – “The Bonebound Host”

Unlike mindless thralls, the Walking Dead are living warriors, bound in magical pacts to serve Kilk-mire’s needs. They operate as a mercenary extension of the state, answering contracts from both nobles and commoners—provided coin and cause align. Whether it be slaying beasts in the wilds, purging rogue undead, or extinguishing outlaw necromancers, they march without fear of what crawls, bites, or breathes.

Specialties: Bounty hunting, abomination purging, escorting necromancers to field sites.
Government Relationship: Semi-autonomous. Contracted via sanctioned Warlock Binders, who report to the Grand Necroseer.

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These seven factions form the living (and unliving) anatomy of Kilk-mire—each a vital organ in Xandera’s undead majesty. Some wear crowns, others wear masks. But all serve the great synthesis of rule, magic, rot, and resurrection.