Undervast
When the world was young, one of its four attendant deities decided that a contingency had to be set.
The Second deity had recently decided that she hated the Third, the Third decided that something had to be done about the Second, and so they began to fight.
The First had already done all that it was going to do for now, and had left.
That left the Fourth.
The Fourth wanted mostly to watch the planet grow and see what it did. The Fourth was happy to be able to exist, and had helped the First make the people and animals and plants, because the Fourth thought it would be criminal for him to be the only known thing in the universe that got to be happy. So, despite his inherent lack of ambition and freewheeling nature, he had taken steps.
The Fourth was fairly certain that if the Second and Third were allowed to carry on in the way that they were now, it would eventually wreck everything the Fourth had tried to make. He saw that they were stealing people as they died, indoctrinating them, and using them for their own ends to perpetuate their conflict.
The Fourth was not very strong and could not fight his siblings evenly. But he was just clever enough, just motivated enough, and once he got up and rolling, he was almost unstoppable. The burning Fourth, the Fourth of iron and machinery, wanted the people he had helped make to be happy and free, just like he was.
So he made a place where the dead could hide.
He set it deep in the earth and gave it a twist, so no one could find it accidentally. He made it very wide, and filled it with useful minerals, plants, animals, and water. A continent beneath the surface of the planet, where the the lingering dead would no longer have to choose between sorrow and rage. This would be their oasis, where they could live uncorrupted and do as they pleased.
He named it Undervast, because that was what it was.
The Fourth went into his brother the Third's fortress, and entered, for the Fourth cannot be stopped. There he saw the dead, only able to do two things under the Third's rule. Strain beneath the weight of the world's woes, or go out and struggle to bear heavy arms against the Second's many children.
The Fourth spoke to the ones that bore the colossal burden, sweating and suffering underneath it for eternity, and asked them if they would like to leave, to go somewhere where they could be free.
They said no, that their work was too important to abandon, that if they left, all the innocent people would be crushed by foes both nearby and from afar. They said that bearing the great shield was their choice, and that while it was very hard, they were proud.
The Fourth understood and left, both astonished and humbled that there were those that would use their freedom so selflessly.
He then went into his sister the Second's womb, where her children writhed and bled. He saw the dead fight, and eat, and rape, indulging in the things that made them feel whole, and powerful. They slicked themselves with gore and used their freedom in ways that stole freedom from others.
The Fourth spoke to the ones that had not yet become beasts, who gathered their power and suffered while wondering if they had made a dreadful mistake in thinking that this place would bring them pleasure. He asked them if they would like another chance, to go somewhere where they could do as they wished without making monsters of themselves.
Many said that they would, and the Fourth liberated them. He was quiet, and strong, and carried them down to the land he had made for them, where the Second would not find them. He gave them gifts, cleaned their wounds, and soothed their hearts. He told them to work their magics and build great kingdoms, to be happy, and safe, and free.
And so these noble dead, now wizards and soldiers and heroes of all kinds, with lessons and powers gained and earned from both the Second and the Fourth, made their way, far beneath the earth.
These were the Necromancers of Undervast, shepherds and marshals of the dead that chose the path of Liberty through the Fourth, and they used their many blessings as they wished.
The Lay of the Land
Undervast is, as the name would imply, vast.
It is a world beneath ours, spanning the layer of earth just under the surface.
There is light here, brought down from the Sun outside through a system of great Lenses made by the Fourth. Each Lens is like a small sun unto itself, shining evenly and constantly to illuminate the land for miles and miles in all directions.
The light from the Lenses shines to the world's ceiling of blank stone and earth, through which no denizen is able to break, and down to the ground, where there are small oceans and lakes, great fields of grass and forests of strange trees and colossal mushrooms. The light shines on the great crystal mountains, some of which are so clean and clear that they become furiously hot and impossible to climb.
There are animals roaming these places. Great leviathans and plucky fish swim through the clear oceans and rivers. Huge behemoths the size of small mountains sleep in the wide fields, playing host to whole ecosystems upon their backs. Swift birds, curious mammals, and busy insects thrive wherever the plants and water stay. The deserts are quiet, and brooding, but alive all the same. Even the irradiated wastelands, scarred battlegrounds left over from the Necromancers' great wars, are home to some unusual and vibrant life of their own, adapted to a harsh but exhilarating existence.
And then there are the cities, most ruled by one Baron, which smoke and clang and hum with industry, progress, and life.
The Necromancer Barons of Undervast
Among the dead that inhabit Undervast, there are those that are oldest. Ancient wizards, the ones first placed in the world and blessed by God, each with power enough to make them a demigod in their own right. Some use their power quietly, administrating little and keeping to their towers to learn and study the mysteries of the universe. Others preach and build, forging great kingdoms of crystal and white stone from the bare earth. And still others dig down, carving great molten foundries into the hot earth, where colossal weapons of war are smelted and assembled.
All the Barons are different, but all are powerful, and move through their world with their own missions in mind.
Valgest, the Chancellor of Blades, Lady of the Cathedral, the Baron of Pure Faith
“There is no greater glory than rendering oneself unto God! Forget yourself, and slave before Him! Fall to your knees, sinners! Kneel in your filth, and look Above! God awaits the advent of the righteous! Suffer well, languish in His name, and become worthy! For only then shall he descend, and carry us to absolution!”
There are few in Undervast that do not live literally or figuratively in the shadow of the Cathedral, the great crystal and steel monastery city raised in the name of that which Undervasters call God, or more informally, the Boss. And at the center of this grand monument to devotion is Valgest, the Chancellor of Blades and minister to all Undervast's faithful.
Tall, thin, and sharp, Valgest is the sword of God, in more ways than one. She is never seen outside of her suit of gleaming silver armor, laden with sheath after sheath of blades to be wielded by her many arms upon the miserable flesh of the sinner. Priest to many, guardian to others, and hated foe of a select few, Valgest shines like a beacon under the earth, ever ready to cut away the filth of her world.
The Chancellor is just as ancient as the other Barons, but has retained one fact in mind across thousands of years: all the souls of the land owe their continued existence to a single force, which she met, communed with, and was saved by. She has made it her mission to reunite with her God, and believes that it is only by living a life of purity and faith that this can be achieved. She also believes that all others must follow her example to guarantee their salvation, and this places her at odds with some citizenry, and more dangerously, other barons.
Molcru, the Sower, Lord of the Glade, the Baron of Sacred Filth
“Now stop, and watch. Aha, you see? All it takes is a little water, a little light, and a tiny iota of compassion. People act like growing things is some mystic process. Things want to grow, they want to live. If you pay them only a little attention and care, you'll be amazed what you can harvest in turn.”
Away from the clanging metal hives inhabited by most Undervasters, in the depths of the great southern forests, there is a place where all roads eventually lead. Corpses, waste, and the unwell enter, and crops, medicines, and healthy people leave. A place of disgusting miracles, where putrescence and rot are transformed into fresh growth and new life, and despair is exchanged for hope.
The Glade is a complex compound, equal parts graveyard, landfill, hospital, and farm. Overseeing the steaming heaps of garbage and rows of fresh vegetation is Molcru, a humble Baron scarcely distinguished from his students and followers. Dressed in tattered rags of brown and green and standing at little more than five feet, the Sower is an unassuming and gentle figure, walking among the rows and readily approached by any who seek his wisdom. Were it not for the massive nexus of vital energy flowing from his body and felt by all within miles in any direction, he would be difficult to tell apart from any other worker of the Glade.
Molcru cares not for fighting, politics, religion, or mysticism. His only love is life, and he has dedicated his eternity to growing, healing, and nurturing it in all its forms, wherever he goes. Disease and miasma scatter before his smile, grass and flowers grow in his wake, and the crippled and broken spring to their feet with newfound strength at a wave of his hand.
Although other powers in Undervast would gleefully raze the Glade to the ground for its bounty of natural resources, none have. If Molcru and his followers were removed, filth would mount high in the streets, disease would run rampant, and injuries would fail to heal, leaving all of known civilization in putrid shards.
Molcru knows this, but makes no show of it. He goes about his work contentedly, glad to heal and feed any and all who cross his path.
Karchax, the Gunfire Marshal, Lord of the Foundry, the Baron of Molten Steel
“Breathe the smoke, and know that your time has come! Feel the rumble of the engines, and know that your brothers and sisters march with you! Watch as I flatten these pitiful worms, and earn victory alongside me! March on, my warriors! Onward, and be reborn in the glorious crucible of war!”
It is impossible to live in Undervast without being aware of Karchax. Loud, huge, and opinionated, Karchax's voice can be heard in every city, either directly through the loudspeakers he keeps installing everywhere or through the mouths of his henchmen.
The Marshal is an enormous and imposing construction, having long since left his corpse of a body behind in favor of a colossal suit of mechanized combat armor. Standing at over 10 feet, weighing enough to crack bridges and carrying enough cannons, machine guns, and flamethrowers to level a city by himself, Karchax is the living embodiment of what he believes to be the purpose of unlife: unending war.
The Steel Baron is only ever found in two places: in the heart of the Foundry, his subterranean weapons factory and base of operations, or on the campaign trail, leading the charge against his enemies and convinced unaligned Undervasters to enlist in his army. Karchax leaves the strategizing to his generals – he prefers to smash first and think later, and unfortunately for his foes, whatever Karchax smashes tends to stay smashed for good.
Despite his indulgence in simple brutality and carnage, Karchax is a Baron, and does have access to magic. His talent for manipulating fire, electricity, and metal combined with his love of war machines has resulted in creations that are as devastating as they are clever, his own body being a prime example. He employs few wizards of his own, but the Archsmiths, ten arcanist-generals with thaumic engineering talent rivaling that of their Baron, are more than enough to keep the steel flowing and the lead flying in the absence of raw magical might.
Never content with stillness or peace, Karchax marches on, leading his legions to eternal victory against those that would stand in the way of their fiery dominion.
Graywing, the Raptor, Lord of the Aerie, the Baron of Secret Winds
“…”
Baron Graywing is, in the eyes of the common citizens of Undervast, an enigma. Rarely seen outside of his tower, Graywing does not preach, does not build, and does not marshal troops.
The Raptor Baron cuts an imposing figure, standing at nearly eight feet tall. His body is obscured by leather armor, including his head, which is covered by a beaked helmet with one large, glowing yellow eye on each side. Like most of the other Barons, he has customized his own body through a combination of magic and alchemy. He has two sets of arms, one for fine manipulation and one with huge talons for lifting and slashing. The enormous gray wings for which he is named span over 20 feet, and fold to form a feathery cloak.
Baron Graywing is a divisive figure in Undervast, primarily owing to the fact that so little is known about him. Some surmise that his research will lead to a golden age. Others think that he is biding his time, hatching plans that will allow him to dominate the entire world. And still others just think he's insane.
Whatever the case, Graywing's status as a powerful unknown has resulted in multiple campaigns being launched against him, primarily by Karchax, who is convinced that Graying is up to something, even if he can't prove it. None of these would-be invasions have made it close to Graywing's tower, owing to his unchallenged status as the most powerful wizard in existence. Legions of troops fall asleep spontaneously, tanks and battle mechs disappear without warning, ammunition and weapons stockpiles turn into masses of harmless birds, and critical officers awake from their beds with Graywing himself standing over them, after which they are rarely heard from again.
Recently, rumors have emerged that Graywing has happened upon an astounding discovery: a way to break through the Ceiling, into the world Above. No one is sure if this is true or yet another wild tale, but if it is, life in Undervast will soon change forever.
Per 
