Necropolis

A city of shadows deeper than ocean trenches and filled with denizens just as strange. A city of streets and alleyways so numerous that many are still unnamed, unmapped and of unknown origin. A city of misfits and monsters, the cursed and the damned and the dead, restless and otherwise. A city that some of the residents believe is dreaming them all.   In this city there are towering, intimidating skyscrapers and antique, decaying rowhouses. Temples to gods across time and culture and tenements that defy architectural logic. Cyclopean halls of power where shadowy puppetmasters and brokers perpetuate decades if not centuries-spanning machinations. Foul industry pollutes the air and rivers for the lower classes while the elite masters of the factories live in gothic opulence above and apart from the masses. The air is thick equally with decay, smoke and simmering resentment.   This is Necropolis. This is where everyone who doesn't belong ends up eventually. At least, that's what the locals tell each other. In this city, nothing is free, life is cheap and death is only the beginning.