Statuesque noblewoman draped in flowing black robes lined with deep crimson. Carmilla's pale complexion, raven hair, and blood red lips contrast with warm, intelligent eyes that constantly evaluate those around her. Carrying an elegant ruby topped staff less as a weapon than as a badge of office. Garments are immaculaty maintained despite their age, suggesting centuries of aristocratic refinement. Effortlessly charming, Carmilla manages to be both, impeccably polite, and quietly manipulative. Rarely raising her voice because she rarely needs to. Genuinely believes civilized monsters should rule over frightened mortals with elegance rather than brutality. Her greatest frustration is watching "perfectly good livestock" squandered by the other departments. Underlord of blood, espionage among surface aristocracy, and the dungeon's renewable supply of living thralls.

Broad shouldered, Bael is a horned devil, clad in practical infernal plate with a weathered orange cloak. Hanging at his side is Bael's whip, rarely used personally, their construction crews and chained laborers work efficiently behind him. Despite his infernal nature, he appears more like a stern engineer than a berserker. Believing productivity is the highest virtue, Bael is constantly irritated when magical catastrophes interrupt construction schedules. Underlord of industry, construction, and forced labor.

Layered in black ceremonial robes, long translucent sleeves flow like incense smoke as Seraphine stands amid countless candles and sacred instruments. Every movement appears rehearsed as part of some ancient liturgy. Possesses the kind of absolute certainty that only the religious can. Seraphine is utterly convinced that ritual sacrifice is both necessary and merciful. Underlord of prophecy, religious ceremonies, and sacrifices.

Wrapped in heavy purple robes trimmed with dark fur is the elderly goblin, Gristle. His enormous hooked nose and deeply lined face suggest centuries of practical experience. Rather than appearing savage, he resembles an overworked gamekeeper. Massive beast silhouettes wait patiently nearby, so he is never truly alone. Gristle adores monsters. He knows every beast by name. He complains constantly about everyone else's misuse of perfectly healthy specimens. However, Gristle's affection extends only to animals. Heroes and humans are simply expensive feed. Underlord of beasts, ecology and dungeon wildlife.

Tall and spectral, the Curator's figure is concealed beneath layered black robes whose inner pockets contain dozens of serene porcelain masks, each one reprensting the soul of a previous victim. Their true, horrific form usually remains hidden behind a flawless mask, lest it reveal the charred bone and a haunting golden eyes. Delicate skeletal fingers constantly adjust masks as though choosing stolen identities from a wardrobe. Soft spoken and unnervingly courteous. The Curator almost never refers to people by their current names. Instead, they speak in forgotten titles, childhood nicknames, or names that have yet to be earned. Unlike the others, they care little for bodies. Only identity matters. Underlord of souls, memories intelligence gathering.

Towering skeletal sovereign, clad in weathered ivory and dark emerald vestments. Crowning his skull is a bishop's mitre, while emerald flames burn steadily within empty eye sockets. His ceremonial staff resembles an ancient reliquary rather than a wizard's weapon. Ossian is patient beyond mortal comprehension. Speaking slowly, citing precedents from kingdoms that vanished thousands of years ago. To him, flesh is temporary while bone is dependable. Underlord of bones, archives, and preservation of ancient knowledge.