This is Sacagawea. Here, the Mormons are a superpower.
Part of the Oregon Trail runs through Deseret. For the most part, these arches and desert canyons are very well-protected. Alas, sometimes protection becomes danger...
This is the Great Sea. It's an inland sea, that seems to be a hearth of Mormon culture. The sea is bigger than you'd think. Here and there, there are islands in it...
This one, for instance. Its terrain is ragged, and it's cloaked in a softwood forest. All around it, the sea's waves beat.
Not too far from it, the Great Sea Gullery stands on a tower in the middle of the sea. All around it, California gulls fly. In it, the males rest, and the females lay and care for their eggs.
To the Mormons, the California gull is a sacred bird. Once, not too long ago, they saved the Mormons from an epic famine; one that surely would've been the end of Deseret, otherwise...
Anyway, back to the island. Among the many softwood trees, there's a monastery. At certain times of day, Mormon monks chant from inside.
Alas, don't let these men's white robes fool you. They're not monks, and nor are they ordinary Mormons. They're into light magic; its abuse, specifically.
Over the sea, the sun has set. Offshore, the tides rise. One joule of moonlight at a time, the full moon rises over the sea-fringed horizon.
In the dungeons inside the monastery, there are cauldrons full of water...from the sea. Iodine tablets are dropped into the water. The iodine fizzes, and fills the cauldron, turning the water white. The white soon vanishes, and the water's clear again. Just like that, the saltwater of the sea has been transfigured into potable freshwater.
Some of these monks are albinos. This is strange; the relatively non-monastic faction of the Mormon religion would probably reject them...out of racism, if not because the Book of Mormon ordered them to.
Some of these monks are mermen...from the Great Sea. Down there, merfolk can do magic; the most basic of this keeps them from dying of the sea's epic salinity. As monks, their robes aren't much different from maternity dresses.
There are also wraiths and zombies among the monks' ranks. They both wear robes. But then, of course, the wraiths would wear robes anyway.
Within these walls, alchemy is practiced...as is necromancy. Night magic is, too. Potion-making is a very big part of this.
From a water-filled dungeon, some mermen haul in a sarcophagus. It's made of cedar. Certain branding symbols on the wood, as well as some of the nails, confirm the coffin was made by Farnum Carpentry.
Together, the monks haul it upstairs. They place it on an altar in a high tower. In the vaults, the wraiths levitate around, and light torches. Below, some of the monks remove their robes.
Some of the monks assemble in a big group, and start chanting. Above, there are horseshoe arches that open into the night air. These arches, coupled with the emptiness of the vaults, amplify their chanting. A whirlwind of wraiths flies above them, as they chant...
A lone lobo comes upstairs, to witness what's going on. He seems confused...but interested.
One of the necromancers sits over the mummified head that's in the sarcophagus. He must be a zombie...because both of his hands look like they've seen healthier years. He closes his eyes, and meditates, while holding his hands over the corpse's crown.
As he does this, clouds of night magic are generated from both of his hands...