Shadespire was the jewel of Shyish's Mirrored City, grown fat on shadeglass, a wondrous substance that trapped light, memory and even souls within its facets. Its people mastered the craft and grew proud, until in their arrogance they defied the Great Necromancer himself. That defiance authored The Fall of Shadespire, and no ending in all the realms is crueller.
Nagash did not raze the city or slaughter its people. He did far worse. With a single dread working he severed Shadespire from the natural order of death, so that its citizens could neither truly live nor ever find the peace of the grave. The city slid sideways out of the world, into the spaces between reflections, a labyrinth of glass and shadow where time coils back upon itself.
Now the Mirrored City drifts as a cursed prize, and warriors of every faction are drawn into its shifting halls, seeking treasures or simply an exit that does not exist. The trapped shades of its people wander still, hollow-eyed reflections mouthing screams no one can hear. Even the servants of the nighthaunt shrink from the place, for it is a monument to what the ossiarch-bonereapers and their master can do to those who forget that all debts of the flesh are paid, in the end, to Nagash.
The chronicle continues
