Resting in her nighted cloak, Moonshadow seems to be the perfect laboratory for those of darker pursuits. Indeed, a cabal of necromancers did spring up for a while, the rising of the dead drawing them in like flies to a corpse. Of course, the numbers thinned when they realised that there would be no return trip; that and the price of such magics in this place.
Often, in our world, when the dead were raised, they were bound by the iron will of the one who raised them. However upon the blighted world of Moonshadow this does not always hold. For every corpse raised, skeleton animated and ghost summoned that obeys the will of their... benefactor, three or more turn upon them in mindless rage and hunger. Few survive such encounters, for there are no early signs to their fell betrayal; one moment they obey perfectly, the next, rotting claws and ghostly hands bury themselves in warm flesh that quickly cools and joins their ranks.
The dead raised upon Moonshadow that do not turn upon their masters prove to be unusually durable; though these too may turn upon their creator given enough time. It need not be said that few risk the raising of the dead or binding of spirits in this place; though for those desperate enough sometimes the reward far outweighs the risk.