The Ninth Nation
Xexas and Loran were not the first of their kind. More than a thousand years before they began their pilgrimages to the extents of Autochthonia, a Jade Colossus called Onyx Observer ventured into the reaches to put down roots, and in time became the Patropolis of Nix. Situated deep in the pole of metal, but not so deep as to be beyond the interests of the Octet, his citizens prospered and the powers of the eight nations wondered if they who had always been eight might one day become nine. But this was not to be.
When one day the trade from Nix stopped coming, the eight nations presumed the situation was temporary. That the churning shuffle of the Great Maker’s inner workings had carried their new partner temporarily out of contact. But when time and magical communication failed to reach the city, they grew concerned, and sent their Champions to see what had befallen their elder counterpart.
The city they found was a ruin, a corpse, crumbling as if dead a thousand years, with its citizens skeletal remains heaped together at its heart. It was not a blight. A trace of the Void was there, but it was as faint as the stink of smoke and lightning and all those other trace elements the Custodians leave behind when they go to war.
And so the Champions turned for home, and warned their councils away, all the while careful never to utter the word: Necropolis.