New Domain: Mortosia

[Rock of the Fraternity]

An eternity ago, on one of the myriad Outlander worlds beyond the Mists, there was a man named Reynold Guncher. He was an evil man, a Dread Necromancer who relished the darkest aspects of his craft. He killed, he maimed, he tortured both the living and the dead, he created undead. All who tried to stop him were slain, either by his own hand or those of his undead slaves -- including his family. As his lust for more slaughter and his own seemingly inevitable transformation into a Lich grew, he plunged more and more of his world into darkness. He even created a necromantic virus, to spread the empire of undeath that he envisioned for himself...

... and then the Mists rolled over his dark kingdom, and when the sun next rose, there was only barren earth where the heaving kingdom of crypts and charnel pits had been. The people of that distant world rejoiced, all unknowing that somewhere in the depths of the Mists, Mortosia had been born.

For uncounted years, Mortosia was a place of stark terror and decay. At its heart stood a city of ziggurats and tombs, a city of the dead and the undead. Surrounding the tomb city was a sterile desert inhabited by the mindless undead, and surrounding the desert was a narrow strip of grass and forests, where the domain's few living people eked out a miserable living, huddling in permanent terror.
Reynold huddled inside his city atop a rotting throne, forever scheming for ways to extend his foul might beyond the borders of his prison and to eradicate the few traces of life that remained in his lands. But try as he might, some life always remained. Either the raids by his undead slaves would miss a few children, hidden between the roots of a tree, or some poor souls would wander in out of the Mists. Never did Reynold have his perfect empire of death and undeath, and even if he could ignore the presence of living souls in his realm, he could not for a moment forget that a living heart still beat in his own chest. Surrounded by the fruits of his labour, the visible signs of his power, Reynold nursed a cold fear that he would someday die of old age or be slain by one of the creatures he commanded, and become a slave for eternity, rather than the Lich he desperately wished to be.

Then came the holy man. No one even remembers his name, nor what faith he represented. One day he came out of the Mists, and helped the living of Mortosia to organize themselves against the raids by the undead. With his support, they built the first city of the living, a fortress bolstered by divine magic and the growing courage of the living.
To the terror and surprise of the living, the holy man then crossed the desert. The mindless undead could not stop him, and he instead laid many to rest.
The foul creatures of the dead city tried to bar this aberration, this man of light the way, only for Reynold to call them back. Into the great throne room, the stranger went, to confront the lord of Mortosia atop his rotting throne. Reynold longed for a chance to snuff out this living soul, who dared to disturb his land and fed the cold fear in his heart. He was ready for anything -- except the words the holy man spoke as soon as he stood before the lord of Mortosia.

"Reynold Guncher. I come to offer you absolution."

The holy man and the lord of Mortosia were alone for an hour. Then for twelve. Then for twenty-four. Undead lurked at the doors to the throne room, eager to know what was happening, but still too afraid of Reynold to intrude. They could hear the two men talking, but could not understand what they said.
Then came the earthquakes. Mortosia trembled and shook from one border to the other, casting the great city of the undead into rubble and tearing great chasms in the land. When the tremors had ended, things were... different.

Undead raiders still travelled out of the city of the undead to attack the living, regardless whether they crept through the forests as nomads or stood strong in their city. They acted at the command of Reynold Guncher.
But while many raiders manage to strike at the living, just as many are wiped out before they can get to the living, or just after they have completed their grim tasks. As soon as they leave the desert, they become prey... to Reynold Guncher.

It is not entirely clear what happened between Reynold and the holy man. From the few details Reynold has let slip, it seems that the holy man had him completely figured out, leading all the atrocities he had committed back to one thing: the darklord's fear of true death, and the punishments he thought would await a Dread Necromancer. After forcing Reynold to face this fact about himself, reducing all his evil deeds to the acts of a man afraid, he made him see that his ultimate fate would be the result of his actions in life.
For the first time since he had started his mad rampage on his homeworld, Reynold knew remorse. For the first time, he wished fervently that he had not acted the way he had. For the first time since he had awoken in the city of the undead, Reynold wept for the person he could have been, even as a Dread Necromancer.
For the very first time, the bonds of his curse trembled and were strained...

... and the Dark Powers struck to ensure that this toy would not escape.

The Reynold Guncher who sits on the rotting throne and sends out undead to end all life in his realm is Reynold as he used to be, except for one detail: he is not only trapped in his domain, he is trapped in his city. If his undead slaves knew that his power reaches no further than the city's limits, they would desert him in droves, and he would eventually be alone with nothing more than mindless thralls to serve him. This Reynold continues to lust for his undead apotheosis and live in fear, but he is not only afraid of death and torment eternal. He fears eternal loneliness in the ruined city that surrounds him like a trap.

The Reynold Guncher who wanders the domain and turns his necromantic power against the very undead who try to annihilate all life is what he desperately wanted to be after the holy man made him face his own faults. This Reynold is a man filled with sadness, but also with determination. He is desperate to right his wrongs, and does so by protecting the living of his domain. He does not expect gratitude, and he lives alone when he can. Stories are starting to spread among the living, however, of the not-dead who fights for them. The living of Mortosia believe that actions speak louder than reputations, and they are growing fond of their ghoulish protector.

While the Not-Dead, Reynold's incarnation that is free to wander the land, though not to leave it, is no longer an evil monster, the status of Darklord clings to both Reynolds. Either is capable of closing the domain's borders by conjuring a black fog out of the earth, which kills living creatures at a touch and reanimates them as ravenous undead -- and also of dispelling it.
As long as one Reynold Guncher lives, the other can not truly die; they will inevitably return to life in the last safe place they have known. For the Reynold in the city, that is his throne room. For the Reynold who is known as the Not-Dead, that may be any place inside Mortosia that lies outside the city.