The messenger

   The old woman turned and grabbed a quill and paper from the table beside her door. Scrawling "Your sister's name is Sinead. You still hunt her killer" on the paper. She barked out "Andrei!" A small boy came scurrying around from in back of her humble hut. "Tell the big man in the armor, that just got a room at the Dark Rose who sent this" The young boy took off at a run down the dirt street towards the other end of town.

   Lord Tobias Nathaniel Bishop Marchande, third hereditary Duke of Marchande, stared listlessly out the tower window. So many responsibilities weighed on his mind. He missed days past when he was free in the world. He and his companions roamed the world seeking out adventure and danger. "I should never have taken the land grant." He said to himself looking upon the sword in it's well worn scabbard propped up in the corner of his library.

   The small boy stumbled up to the front door of the inn. Huffing and puffing from the effort of running across town he says "Mister... Milady Rowena Bloodrose DeAmberville asked me to give you this." He handed the large red headed man a scrap of parchment.

More of the Nemyrothean Plains.

   Beneath the vast Nemyrothean plain, resides the greatest concentration of evil in the known universe. Under the chaotic weather, primordial swamps, and roaming vicious beasts is an enormous eternally dark necropolis. At the center of it all is The Arch Demi-Lich Vceshkark.
   Vceshkark was the first of the Sorcerer Kings. The most evil of the liches imprisoned beneath he Nemyrothean plains. He committed such atrocities that they are remembered to this day. The Slaughter of Skeleton Springs, The decimation of Laborton, The collapse of the Dwarven mines of Khragzuaille. All of this strife and torment inflicted upon our world. From what the legends tell us of this horrific otherworld creature. He has existed for 6000 years as an undead abomination. It might be longer than that, but that's as far back as written history takes us. It is said that he was among the first denizens in the realm of undeath, second only to Void Father.
   Kreschi of the Glareij, perpetrator of the Heineary massacre, resides under the flats and monoliths of the plain also. As does Praetax the Conqueror. There is such a concentration of evil in that place, it has blighted the surrounding countryside. The blasted landscape surrounding the the plain, is a stark contrast to the plain  itself. The plain  a scoured from time to time by great storms of such intensity that no animal can exist on the plain. Just a massive sea of grass, interspersed with the enormous stone slabs covering the tombs.
   There isn't a soul alive that has explored the plains fully. Many have tried, only to disappear into the legend of the plains. Some have vanished for a day or two. To return white skinned and emaciated. Almost as if their very life force has been sapped or drained away. None of these intrepid explorers has even spoken of their time on the plains. In fact they don't speak at all. Sages and scholars have all tried to pry from them what these poor lost men and women have seen, but to no avail.
  

Lair of the Lich Kings

A vast plain interspersed with areas of smoothed stone 500 feet across. Under each multi piece stone slab, is an inverted pyramid of stone. At the tip is a coffin sized area where the previous heroes of legend have imprisoned the various Lich Kings. These powerful diabolical sorcerers, have appeared periodically across the millennia. No one in living memory can remember the first one. During that period of eternal imprisonment, the Kings have learned how to cooperate and wreak havoc across the surface, across the sparse expanse of the Nemyrothean plains. No explorer has survived trying to count them all.