Where the domain of the Amaranthine City feels like an empire in its last days, the Kingdom of Bones is one that’s already fallen. If a layer contains a fortress, it’s not preparing for a final battle; it’s what remained after the battle. The gates are shattered, and bloodstains and broken weapons are scattered across the floors. The people of this domain fought a dreadful war and lost . . . but this being Mabar, their bones remain. The skeletons of peasants continue their menial labors, seemingly oblivious to the futility of their actions. Even in death, these commoners are oppressed by their cruel lords. Wights, deathlocks, and vampire spawn might serve as the soldiers of the tyrants, while the overlords themselves may be vampires or mummy lords, still ruling from their ruined keeps.
All of the kingdom’s cursed nobles bow before the Bone King, who embodies the concepts of death and decay. A lich in rotting finery, he stands as a warning that even the mightiest lords eventually become dust and bone. He prefers to drain the life slowly from fragments he claims; he wants his hostages to dwell on their coming death while their land withers around them, for lords to turn on their people before he finally kills them all.
The Bone King’s statistics could be represented using Orcus as a foundation. He can serve as an Undying patron for warlocks, and is known to teach mortal wizards the foul rituals that allow ascension to lichdom. To all who serve him in this way, he grants titles in his kingdom—and the knowledge that when they die, they’ll be forever bound to serve in it. He makes few demands of these servants; they feed him whenever they use the powers he grants to slay the living. But a warlock may be tasked to destroy a lich or vampire—or even another warlock—because the Bone King desires them to serve in his kingdom.