Living Graveyards
In a world where corpses can rise, specters haunt the night, and innumerable horrors straddle the line between life and death, is it truly so surprising that a graveyard may be just as perilous as the deepest jungle? Oh, not all of them, for certain. Not some muddy plot in a frontier town, no. But when a city, a kingdom, is immense and decrepit, swollen with history, riddled with catacombs and bloated by mausoleums, a second realm will sometimes grow up from within the lands of the living, sprawling for miles, latched on to its host. Courts of blood-drinkers, carrion-eaters, flesh-takers, their people the teeming masses of shambling rot drawn from the luckless masses dumped into its innards. No longer for peace of mind or restful repose, but as tribute. For so long as the graves are filled, their rulers have no need to leave. For where else would such a multitude of corpses, as food or as slaves, be delivered to their door? The flesh of humans provide unique nourishment, and cert...