[ic=The Song of Orpheus]They said this was the way. They said that if I followed the path, down through the rocks I would find it. Time has fled from me, here, until I cannot say how long I have trod. I do not feel hungry; I cannot bring myself to sleep.
My lantern burned out long ago, and yet I can see in these shadows. The walls of this cavern are slick with something like blood, something like tears, something like despair. I let myself believe my lyre would comfort me here, but I cannot imagine breaking the silence. This quiet devours minds and souls and time. Perhaps that is where my time has fled to, lost in silence. I don't even hear my own foot falls anymore.
Down, down I am going. Always down. And beneath it all, I will find her. No one comes back, they say. Perhaps neither shall I.[/ic]
You have ventured beyond the world, beyond the real, into the shifting landscape of dream and nightmare, the world of the dead and the ever-living. The Underworld.
Never so far from Earth, but never quite like it, the underworld waits beyond the liminal spaces. Most mortals that enter never return. Here the wars of men are left behind for the wars of faeries and monsters. Here islands soar in the sky, dragons rule the seas, and fiends drag the damned into fiery torment. Here magic is not a feared whisper in the dark, but the foundation of life.
The Realms
The underworld is another reality beneath the physical plane, a new world that connects to the Earth through hidden gateways. Seven realms compose the underworld, realms of giants, faeries, and ghosts.
Mount Mashu
The mountain of gods. The mountain of the dead. Mount Mashu is the heart of the underworld. It rises up from the sea to unfathomable heights. They say no one has ever reached its peak. Even the dead cannot complete the journey.
Within the mountain, stretch the endless tunnels of shadow. Here the souls of the dead that have fallen into the underworld are drawn. They wander the timeless paths in half light, until they reach the underground plains at the base of the mountain: the plains of Sheol.
The Skysea
The roots of the World Tree reach down from the Earth, from the unknown reaches of the sky in the underworld. Clusters of land have formed around these roots, creating islands in the sky surrounding Mount Mashu. This is the Skysea: glorious, shinning realm of the Seelie, and paradisiacal dream of the fallen.
These lands of eternal spring are home to many fae nations, all part of the Celestial Court which holds together the underworld. All bow before the wisdom and power of the Celestial Emperor.
Tartarus
Beneath the base of Mount Mashu, below even the shadows of Sheol, Tartarus is the realm of the Unseelie. Here the Primordials imprisoned the Watchers that displeased them. Here the twisted fae torment those shades that fall into their grasp. Here the goblin kingdoms rise, plotting to overthrow their Seelie cousins in the Skysea.
The Inferno
Deep underground, surrounding Tartarus, the Inferno is a volcanic realm of fire. Fire giants dwell here, simmering in chaos and destruction, waiting for the chance to unleash the apocalypse.
Cedar Forest
Cedar Forest surrounds Mount Mashu, a mysterious realm said to be home to the deep gods. Some say the forests holds the answers to every question, every mystery. Others say it holds questions no one should ask.
The World Sea
The World Sea, Patala, spreads out from Cedar Forest, reaching all the way to the encompassing shores of Jotunheim. Here dwell the dragons and sea spirits in their watery kingdoms.
Jotunheim
Beyond the World Sea, the frozen plains of Jotunheim are home to the giants. They long since fled the mortal world and found sanctuary only in the far reaches of the underworld. Here they plot vengeance against Earth and the Underworld alike. The great Lokaloka Mountains bound Jotunheim, forming a boundary against the total chaos beyond.
Has a very Norse feel to it, I am rather interested to see where this goes.
It's a more refined version of the building the underworld (http://www.thecbg.org/e107_plugins/forum/forum_viewtopic.php?69024.last) brainstorming project for Eschaton.
Norse cosmology, as well as others (especially Hindu, Celtic, and Greek), did have a fair influence on developing the ideas here.
Wasn't sure if it was ok to post in here. The intro is great - it instantly makes me want to read more. Mount Mashu, Tartarus, and The World Sea are sounding more and more like very interesting places - I'd like to hear more on them.
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]The first time I heard it, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. There was nothing down here, nothing to make any sound. But as the strange light that had guided my steps faded, the sound increased. More sounds joined the clanking, sounds like hammers, like tools, like voices. Madness had found me at last; perhaps my trek had ended.
"You live, mortal man. The living don't belong here." A voice spoke to me, in some accent I could not place. My eyes searched fruitlessly in the dark. When the lantern flickered to life, I jumped backwards. Before me stood a gnarled old man just over four feet tall. He ambled over to me with a limp and glared up at me with beady green eyes. "We keep these around for when the sky ones come. Not that we like to encourage them, mind." I opened my mouth to speak, but for once my voice failed me. "Ah, if you were a shade I'd just send you on your way, but you walk like you've purpose. Me thinks you fool enough to come down here after someone, thinking maybe you can have 'em back. But you can only join them." The creature spat at my feet and flashed a knife with the hand not holding a lantern.
"Please," I begged him. "Please, I must find Eurydice. You've no idea what I've come through."
The old man chuckled. We had attracted a small audience, all gnarled old men like this creature. "We know more than you think, mortal man. But you've no idea what you'll go through still. Give us a reason to send you on as more than a ghost."
And so I gave the only gift I could. I played my lyre for them. I sang. To my amazement, my antagonist soon wept, wept tears that sparkled like ice. More of his strange kind congregated around me. When my song finished the old man bade me play another.
Once I had done so, he stood silent for a long moment. "I shall take you on, mortal man, though you may regret it more than I. I do not ask your name, for you shall not have a name for long here."
I shuddered as the old man extinguished the lantern, and jerked when his knobby hand grasped mine. For a long time we walked, neither of us speaking except when he warned me where to step. In time we came to more tunnels, these filled with a luminescent blue-green mist. I thought I saw other men and women here, I thought I had found people. In my state, I forgot where I was. Only when one of the figures turned towards me and I saw its hollow eyes did I recognize it as nothing more than a shade.
Down the tunnel others were wailing. Some, those not following the path down, they bored into me with glowing red eyes. My guide jerked me forward. "Do not look on them. Do not think on them. Do not pity them."
After such time as I cannot count, my guide pointed to the tunnel ahead. The luminescent mist had cleared, and yet I could see, as though what lay head lay in twilight rather than dark of night. I turned to thank my guide, but he was gone. I followed the tunnel to what seemed an endless staircase. Three times I had to stop to rest, as the tireless dead passed me by. If I did not meet their gaze, they paid me no mind.
At the base of the stairs I found a black river. Whispers seemed to fill the air, the entire cavern smelled of earth. I approached the river and the small boat upon it. In the boat stood a shrouded figure, holding a ferry pole. "You wish passage, mortal?" The figure asked when I neared his boat. I nodded, shivering though the chill was slight here. "How will you pay?" I reached for my lyre. "I've no need of songs. Were you a shade, I might ask part of your soul. Since you live, I will settle for part of your life. Twenty years," he whispered.
I stood there trembling, on the banks of the black river. And then I took the ferryman's hand, and he took his price.[/ic]
Mount Mashu
It rises from the sea in the heart of the underworld, stretching up into the clouds, a mountain unlike any found on Earth. Eerie quiet pervades its slopes. It is called the mountain of the gods, the mountain of the dead, the realm of mist, the realm of shadow.
Niflheim
The upper slopes of Mount Mashu are called Niflheim, the realm of mist and cold. These frozen slopes are nearly empty of life. Some say that no one has ever climbed the mountain, not even the dead, and yet some continue to try, drawn by the legends. They say that the mists have a voice, and they name that voice Mommu, god of mists, who alone might understand the mysterious of the mountain. Few have returned, and none of those that do speak of their journey, save to say that little can survive the slopes for long.
Somewhere, perhaps at the peak of the mountain, lies the Well of Cold, Hvergelmir, from which eleven icy rivers flow, each spiraling around the mountain. The most prominent of these rivers are the Cocytus, the Styx, the Lethe, and the Slith--these four rivers eventually find their way into the interior of the mountain.
In these upper reaches of the mountain, one can find the Ice Caves of Niflheim. This maze of blue crystal catches the sunlight from outside and reflects it deep into the mountain. The Ice Caves connect to the Dark Fields.
Dark Fields
Aliases: Svartalfheim, Nidavellir, Erebus
The newly deceased drawn into the underworld often find themselves in the sunless realm of the Dark Fields. Here gnomes mine precious metals and gems, for their king in his palace of gold. The gnome kingdom is one of the lands of the Celestial Court, so their king answers to the Celestial Emperor.
The Darkfields are bounded by Nidafjoll, a small mountain range within the mountain itself. These mountains are the source of the gnomish mines. Some of the rivers from the Well of Cold through these fields, most notably the Styx.
The gnomes will shepherd ghosts from their domain onto the Caverns of Grief. They do not care to have shades amongst them for long, and even less so for specters.
Caverns of Grief
Aliases: Kyopelinvouri
The Caverns are a series of tunnels located beneath the Dark Fields. Here those ghosts without the strength of will or courage to continue on remain trapped in their misery, wandering and wailing through the tunnels. Unlike the usually lightless Dark Fields, these tunnels are light with eerie half-light, though from no apparent source. Those that press on continue ever downwards through the maze, and eventually come to the base of the mountain, the Nether Realm.
The Nether Realm
Aliases: Sheol, Duat
The only easy exit from the Caverns of Grief is a wide stone staircase that travels down into the massive cavern of the Nether Realm. Beyond the foot of the stairs, the Acheron blocks the way. The Acheron is fed by the Cocytus, which falls in a waterfall from above, creating a lake to the west. Shades with influence can barter with the ferryman, Kharon (http://www.thecbg.org/wiki/index.php?title=Kharon), for passage across. Those that cannot pay or will not meet Kharon's often terrible price must follow the river bank around its spiral.
Beyond the Acheron lie the Fields of Tears, an empty plain the dead must cross to reach their final destination. Most travel west to the Yama Loga, the palace of Yama (http://www.thecbg.org/wiki/index.php?title=Yama). Here, the judges appointed by the god of the dead may grant souls reprieve and send them to the Skysea. Most, however, are ferried across the Styx to the Asphodel Meadows. The Yama Loga hides the pool of Mnemosyne, the well of memories, a secret guarded closely by the lord of the dead.
Souls that follow the spiraling Styx to the east will eventually find its outlet in Acherusia, the marsh at the heart of the Nether Realm. This swamp endangers even the dead, for at its center lies the Pit, Abaddon, a chasm that stretches to Tartarus. The Styx and the Acheron converge at Acherusia, each forming a spiral around the other. Between their inner spirals lie the Asphodel Meadows, the place where most shades congregate. These fields lack either the torments of Tartarus or the pleasures of the Skysea paradise. The shades within find refuge from the horrors found in other regions, but they also find a prison without hope, their memories turning to dust.
The magma river, Phlegethon, runs along a plateau above the meadows, providing illumination. It empties off the edge of the cliff into the Pit in a waterfall of fire. Its source is said to be magma far beneath the mountain, perhaps as far as the Inferno itself.
The Lethe, river of forgetfulness, lies beyond the Yama Loga. A bridge crosses the river, but only those that win the favor of the gatekeeper can use it. Any other soul must wade the river, and to touch its water erases the memory of the past. Most souls that the judges send to the Skysea are forced to wade the river, thus beginning new lives in paradise. Beyond the Lethe, the Bifrost rainbow bridge connects to the Skysea.
The intro for the most recent post is, again, awesome. So far the only thing I can really ask is to see more of specific areas. Do you have any maps of any smaller regions (lairs of particular nonmortals or whatnot)?
There does seem to be a bit of a contradiction with the description of Nilfheim - you say no mortal and few fae can survive its slopes, but then later you say some choose to make the journey, and suggest that some return. I'm assuming however that this is a sort of set up for an epic quest for players or notable NPCs - is this what you intended?
I'm getting the vibe that this setting is made for people to go on journeys into the Underworld and go all over the place visiting each area and encountering a new foe. Talk about epic journey.
I would like to see more specifically on the Well of Cold, and on the boatman. The significant rivers in mythology have always been my favorite bits.
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]The ferryman's boat lurched through the water as he pushed with his pole. A shiver ran through me. Someone had clawed out my insides, had stolen something deep within. I hadn't changed, hadn't aged, but I felt some part of me had forever fled. I kept my arms wrapped around myself, afraid to let the water splash me. The ferryman's presence loomed over me, but I would not look at him, could only watch the black river. Then boat rocked, banked on the far shore I hadn't realized we had neared.
The ferryman said nothing, so I rose and stepped out, avoiding the waters. He pushed the boat away from the shore without a word. On the far bank I could see the fallen, those that would not or could not pay. They watched me, never turning, never speaking, yet somehow seeming to beg.
The field before me was like gray wheat. Shades moved through it, some aimlessly, most towards a palace in the distance. I followed.
Braziers lit the palace exterior, but somehow its gray stone still chilled me. Fluted columns supported an arched roof. On either side of the entrance a guard stood, and though they looked like men, they held too still to be living. They did not impede me or any of the shades I followed as we entered.
A faint shaft of light shone through the hole in the atrium ceiling, but the men we saw, if men they were, sat in shadow behind a stone table. One at a time, each shade approached the table. I should think they each pled a case, though I could hear only whispers. After the first shade made its case, a judge pointed the west archway, and the shade floated off in that direction. The next, I still could not hear the judges' verdict, but one waved with its hand, and a pair of creatures came forward. At first I thought them like the old men that had led me from the Dark Fields, but these were more twisted, their skin of sickly color. The shade wailed as they laid hands on it, dragging it through the east exit to what torment I cannot say.
At last my turn came, and I stood before my three judges. They sat in silence until I could bear it no longer. "Please," I said, "I seek the soul of Eurydice. I must have her back. I have braved the trials of this place. Only return her, and I shall perform any feat you ask."
The judges turned to face one another, though if they spoke, I heard naught but the endless whispers that had pervaded the hall since I entered. Then the leftmost waved me to an archway beyond him. I took the path, passing statue-like guards every so often in the torch-lit halls. I came to a great hall, at the back of which, on a dais, sat two figures, a man and woman, each on a throne of bone. The man was sallow, his features sunken, his eyes seeming to glint in the light. The woman might have been beautiful, in less macabre surroundings. Each had long black hair in stark contrast to their bleached chairs. I began to open my mouth, but the man spoke before my words had formed.
"We know what you seek, Orpheus." He beckoned me closer and my feet moved without my even considering otherwise. "Show us your famous song, show us your love."
This was all I had to offer, so I again prepared my lyre. I would play Eurydice's song for them. And I would pray I might move my merciless lord, prayed I might bring a tear to the dark lady's eyes, and she grant me a boon for it.
[/ic]
Quote from: ÐевеÑ'оÑÑ,но удивиÑ,ÐµÐ»ÑŒÐ½Ð°Ñ Ð»Ð¾The intro for the most recent post is, again, awesome. So far the only thing I can really ask is to see more of specific areas. Do you have any maps of any smaller regions (lairs of particular nonmortals or whatnot)?
I would like to see more specifically on the Well of Cold, and on the boatman. The significant rivers in mythology have always been my favorite bits.[/quote]
I added a link in the text to my entry for Kharon.
Any thoughts on what more I could say on the Well of Cold? Obviously it's from Norse mythology, but it's mostly mentioned in passing.
It would probably be cool to explain at least the general surroundings - considering that significant mythical rivers flow from there it would probably be interesting for a lot of people to see how they originate in your setting, and why they do (if there's a reason). Even so it'd be cool to see more details about it and its denizens, if any; I keep wondering if maybe the boatman has a little shack sitting in the center of a giant lake at the bottom of this Well, that is his infamous abode even if he never spends time there.
I'll make sure to check out the additions and give you more of a response.
Very interesting mini-origin story on Kharon. After reading Yami and Yama it gets even more of a punch. It's unfortunate that you don't have a scanner, as the maps would add volumes even if the Underworld is massive and hard to map out. Maybe there's some mapping software you could use to do one up?
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]The lord's face remained impassive, but his lady seemed to favor me with the hint of a smile. She turned toward the lord of the dead and I thought they conversed, though neither spoke. Then both looked back to me. "What you want is not to be had, Orpheus," the lord said. "But you have pleased the Queen, so I shall offer to reunite you with Eurydice's shade."
My hand shook as I replaced my lyre on my back. I set my jaw and strode forward. "You had me play for you on false pretenses, my lord, if you knew you could not grant what I sought. I seek no empty ghost, but a woman of flesh I can hold in my arms and build a life with!" Undeterred by his glare, I advanced forward another step. "I shall find her, with or without your aid, my lord."
The lady's face too darkened, but it was the lord that spoke. "You do not comprehend with whom you take that tone, mortal. But you will. Goblin, you may have him."
At his words, a gnarled old man--like those that had dragged the wailing shade away from the judges--appeared from the shadows and laid its clammy hand upon me. Though the creature was small, its grip held like iron against my every attempt to pull away. It dragged me from the palace, towards another spiraling river. Shades stepped aside to allow the goblin and his victim to pass; none raised a hand to aid me. "The River Styx," the goblin told me, then shoved me into a smaller version of the boat the last ferryman had used. The goblin steered this boat himself, pushing along with a pole. I looked at the black waters. Could I swim for shore? "The river of hate," the goblin said as though reading my thoughts. "I wouldn't want to see what would happen to a mortal man that touched the waters."
So I waited as we followed the spiraling course of the river around; it bent much like the Acheron did, and like the Acheron, emptied into some fell swamp. Above us, a plateau shelf jetted out, and from it fell a waterfall of lava into some hole in the swamp. The goblin navigated the bog without a hint of fear, though I saw strange lights and twisted shades. My captor banked our vessel near the chasm into which the lava fell. The slight elevation of its lip kept most of the swamp water from spilling into it, though a continual rain of much poured over the side. The goblin dragged me to the edge. Was this it? Would he cast me into the pit?
Instead the creature found a spiraling path down along the sides of the pit. Even with the light of the falling lava, I could not see the bottom of the gap, though it looked like it might narrow as it went down. The goblin dragged me stumbling behind him. We pressed firm against the wall each time we had to pass beneath the lava waterfall. Its heat scorched my skin, until I felt I had nothing left to sweat. I was gasping for breath, stumbling every few steps, but the creature had no mercy. "How deep?" I rasped.
"Oh I suspect you won't have to see the bottom. We aren't going to the very bottom, only to the next level. The palace is down in the bottom." The goblin cackled then. "Yes, but not so nice as the one you just left. Not so friendly." He yanked my arm and pulled me in front of him so he could shove me along. "But I imagine we can find something fit to entertain you, living one."
I continued to stumble as the creature kicked me before it. My lungs baked in my chest and I swore my hair had begun to singe as we passed behind the magma fall once again. The goblin shoved me and I fell on the rocks, collapsing.
The creature grumbled and tried to yank me to my feet once again. My foot shot out and caught him in the groin. The goblin doubled over, moaning and cursing, as I pushed myself up. I placed my hands on the goblin's shoulders and shoved with what remained of my strength. The fiend fell backwards over the edge, howling as he passed through the magma fall--though his scream was a short one.
"I prefer to entertain myself," I called into the chasm.
[/ic]
I have made overworld maps in Photoshop before, but not in a long time. I'm not sure I remember how I did them. Plus, something like what I've described here has a vertical dimension, which makes it harder to map. But I could give a try, at some point.
Quote from: FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSEIt would probably be cool to explain at least the general surroundings - considering that significant mythical rivers flow from there it would probably be interesting for a lot of people to see how they originate in your setting, and why they do (if there's a reason). Even so it'd be cool to see more details about it and its denizens, if any; I keep wondering if maybe the boatman has a little shack sitting in the center of a giant lake at the bottom of this Well, that is his infamous abode even if he never spends time there.
I'll make sure to check out the additions and give you more of a response.
Well I could say there's some kind of connection to the water realm. So the well somehow pumps water out of the world sea (and it eventually would flow back there again) to the top of the world. The lake idea is interesting, but since the well is continually overflowing with eleven icy rivers, I'd think anything beneath the lip of the well would be underwater. Of course, since the fae are nature spirits, it's possible the well itself could have a spirit.
Also, maybe a guardian, like the fountain guardian in Irish myth or Arthurian legend. Part of me fears writing too much detail on such a thing would cause it to lose its mystery, but that's not really the tact I take elsewhere on the wiki, so I suppose it shouldn't be here either. I may give the well its own wiki entry eventually.
For now, I'm thinking I need to write up Tartarus.
Tartarus needs a write-up, yes. Definitely go with a guardian and/or spirit. Guardians are the ultimate cool for any far away, mystical locale that is the origin of some vital element of a setting, whether it's said rivers, magic, or life itself.
I'm going to start going over the wiki to see if I can respond to some more stuff.
[ic=The Song of Orpheus] At last I neared the bottom of the interminable hole, or what I first took for its bottom. The walls of the hole gave way to open air, though the spiraling path continued downward to a new ground level. Beneath me, I could see the hole opened in this lower ground as well, but the abyss beneath did not hold my gaze. It was the rippling black clouds against the red sky that gave me pause, for I must pass very near if I wished to continue down this path.
But I had come too far to turn back now. I cannot imagine a more twisted landscape. The grasses seemed painted with blood, the air was filled with the wails of the damned, and the waterfall of lava at last found a landing, a landing where it once again became a river of fire. Rather than follow this path down the next hole, to what must surely be further horrors, I stepped off the path, onto the dry crusted soil of this realm.
The shades I had seen above did not come here, but I saw other creatures to take their place. Hundreds of goblins scampered about, many whipping what looked like human slaves, bound in a long line of mine slaves. Perhaps they were worked to death. Perhaps even death would not release them from this place. In the sky, winged demons flitted about, and, though I caught only a glimpse, I might swear I saw winged dragon overhead.
Before me, I saw strange towers that jutted with spurs. I fell to my knees and expelled the contents of my stomach when I realized what the towers reminded me of: spines. Like the spine of some hundred-foot tall behemoth had been ripped out and stuck upright in the dirt. Great iron chains ran between these abominations. Shadows massive even at a great distance stalked among the towers.
Perhaps whatever fell creatures dwelled there would have the power to aid my quest. I walked forward, and neither man nor creature impeded my way. As I neared the edge of the closest spine tower, I saw something massive stood in its shadow. The shadow of its arm moved, and I saw it held a boulder. Its other arm held another. Then I saw another arm. And another. The creature watched me, then stepped from the shadow to stand before me.
I fell on my back. I heard my lyre crack beneath me, but I could not think of it. I could only try to scamper backwards. The misshapen giant had more heads than I could count, and at least two arms for every head. And far too many of those heads watched me.[/ic]
Tartarus
Aliases: Naraka
In the far depths beneath Mount Mashu lies the realm of Tartarus, abode of the Unseelie. Here the Primordials imprisoned the Watchers that displeased them. Here the twisted fae torment those shades that fall into their grasp. Here the Unseelie kingdoms rise and fall, plotting to overthrow their Seelie cousins in the Skysea.
A red light without apparent source illuminates the sky of Tartarus, and black roiling storm clouds drift across the ceiling of the cavern. Lightning occasionally crashes from these clouds, but never rain.
Abaddon
The heart of Tartarus is the Pit, Abaddon. The pit begins as a chasm in the Nether Realm above and descends all the way to the base level of Tartarus, far below. Even below this, the pit continues. At the bottom of this pit lies Irkalla, home of Nirrta and Nirrti.
A narrow ledge winds its way around the inside of the Pit, granting passage down from the Nether Realm for those foolish or damned enough to take it. The Phlegethon pours down in a waterfall of magma, landing on an outcropping and running as a fiery river across Tartarus. It forms a ring around the realm, creating the border between Tartarus and the Inferno.
Irkalla
Irkalla is the twisted palace of Nirrta and Nirrti, devils that style themselves gods of the dead, though they are far more maleficent than Yama and Yami. Seven gates block the way from the base of Tartarus down to Irkalla. At each gate stands one of Nirrti's horrific guardians, demanding a sacrifice.
The pit runs so deep, that Irkalla would be cast in total darkness--would be if not for the green flame torches which line the halls. The palace is shaped like a ziggurat, with a single blockish entranceway leading in. Nirrta's wraith legions mull about the base of the pit and the palace, but rarely attack without his direction.
The interior is a twisted maze that opens into torture chambers, dungeons, pools of acid, and displays of macabre art--often made from living beings twisted into unnatural forms. At the heart of the maze sits the throne room of the King and Queen of Hell. They most often possess rotting corpses, holding them together for years until their flesh has peeled away to nothing, before moving on to a new form.
The Prison
The Prison of the Watchers is a crater on the plains, to the west of Abaddon, before Nastrond. This prison has no walls, though twisted spires jutting with metal spikes form its boundary. Massive chains run between and around these spires, creating a kind of warped netting. A central spire in the prison reaches far up into the sky, twenty stories tall. But neither the towers nor the chains truly bind the Watchers--it is their wardens, the Hecatonchires, that ensure none escape.
Onigashima
East of Abaddon lies a dark sea. On this sea is a large island, an island ruled by ogres. In this, their last great kingdom, they dream of the old days when they ruled the Earth and ate mankind every day. The great hall of the ogre king is a razor-lined pagoda that grows wider on the higher levels, a feat of architecture that stands despite the laws of physics.
Tangled Wood
North of Abaddon lies the Tangled Wood. Here thorny trees will lash out at those foolish enough to enter. Monsters and vile fae dwell here, many challenging the self-proclaimed king of the wood, Valerin.
Nastrond
Nastrond lies west of Abaddon. The Phlegethon divides the desert of Nastrond, much of it lying in the Inferno, but a wide swath sits within Tartarus. Some Unseelie roam this desert, but none more terrible than Nidhogg, the vile orm. Nidhogg feeds upon corpses--a near endless supply granted to him by the lesser fae in order to placate the fiend. Ghouls too roam the desert, eager for these corpse offerings. Those that cross Nidhogg have little chance to regret it.
Pandemonium
The greatest of the goblin cities, Pandemonium, lies south of Abaddon. Almost all kinds of Unseelie can be found in this domain, though it is ruled by the goblin king. It is a city of magic and mischief, chaos and suffering. Succubae run brothels, imps flit about the sky, and goblins press unfortunate prisoners into hard labor in their mines.
Quote from: Phoenix[ic=The Song of Orpheus] At last I neared the bottom of the interminable hole, or what I first took for its bottom. The walls of the hole gave way to open air, though the spiraling path continued downward to a new ground level. Beneath me, I could see the hole opened in this lower ground as well, but the abyss beneath did not hold my gaze. It was the rippling black clouds against the red sky that gave me pause, for I must pass very near if I wished to continue down this path.
But I had come too far to turn back now. I cannot imagine a more twisted landscape. The grasses seemed painted with blood, the air was filled with the wails of the damned, and the waterfall of lava at last found a landing, a landing where it once again became a river of fire. Rather than follow this path down the next hole, to what must surely be further horrors, I stepped off the path, onto the dry crusted soil of this realm.
The shades I had seen above did not come here, but I saw other creatures to take their place. Hundreds of goblins scampered about, many whipping what looked like human slaves, bound in a long line of mine slaves. Perhaps they were worked to death. Perhaps even death would not release them from this place. In the sky, winged demons flitted about, and, though I caught only a glimpse, I might swear I saw winged dragon overhead.
Before me, I saw strange towers that jutted with spurs. I fell to my knees and expelled the contents of my stomach when I realized what the towers reminded me of: spines. Like the spine of some hundred-foot tall behemoth had been ripped out and stuck upright in the dirt. Great iron chains ran between these abominations. Shadows massive even at a great distance stalked among the towers.
Perhaps whatever fell creatures dwelled there would have the power to aid my quest. I walked forward, and neither man nor creature impeded my way. As I neared the edge of the closest spine tower, I saw something massive stood in its shadow. The shadow of its arm moved, and I saw it held a boulder. Its other arm held another. Then I saw another arm. And another. The creature watched me, then stepped from the shadow to stand before me.
I fell on my back. I heard my lyre crack beneath me, but I could not think of it. I could only try to scamper backwards. The misshapen giant had more heads than I could count, and at least two arms for every head. And far too many of those heads watched me.[/ic]
Tartarus
Aliases: Naraka
In the far depths beneath Mount Mashu lies the realm of Tartarus, abode of the Unseelie. Here the Primordials imprisoned the Watchers that displeased them. Here the twisted fae torment those shades that fall into their grasp. Here the Unseelie kingdoms rise and fall, plotting to overthrow their Seelie cousins in the Skysea.
A red light without apparent source illuminates the sky of Tartarus, and black roiling storm clouds drift across the ceiling of the cavern. Lightning occasionally crashes from these clouds, but never rain.
Abaddon
The heart of Tartarus is the Pit, Abaddon. The pit begins as a chasm in the Nether Realm above and descends all the way to the base level of Tartarus, far below. Even below this, the pit continues. At the bottom of this pit lies Irkalla, home of Nirrta and Nirrti.
A narrow ledge winds its way around the inside of the Pit, granting passage down from the Nether Realm for those foolish or damned enough to take it. The Phlegethon pours down in a waterfall of magma, landing on an outcropping and running as a fiery river across Tartarus. It forms a ring around the realm, creating the border between Tartarus and the Inferno.
Irkalla
Irkalla is the twisted palace of Nirrta and Nirrti, devils that style themselves gods of the dead, though they are far more maleficent than Yama and Yami. Seven gates block the way from the base of Tartarus down to Irkalla. At each gate stands one of Nirrti's horrific guardians, demanding a sacrifice.
The pit runs so deep, that Irkalla would be cast in total darkness--would be if not for the green flame torches which line the halls. The palace is shaped like a ziggurat, with a single blockish entranceway leading in. Nirrta's wraith legions mull about the base of the pit and the palace, but rarely attack without his direction.
The interior is a twisted maze that opens into torture chambers, dungeons, pools of acid, and displays of macabre art--often made from living beings twisted into unnatural forms. At the heart of the maze sits the throne room of the King and Queen of Hell. They most often possess rotting corpses, holding them together for years until their flesh has peeled away to nothing, before moving on to a new form.
The Prison
The Prison of the Watchers is a crater on the plains, to the west of Abaddon, before Nastrond. This prison has no walls, though twisted spires jutting with metal spikes form its boundary. Massive chains run between and around these spires, creating a kind of warped netting. A central spire in the prison reaches far up into the sky, twenty stories tall. But neither the towers nor the chains truly bind the Watchers--it is their wardens, the Hecatonchires, that ensure none escape.
Onigashima
East of Abaddon lies a dark sea. On this sea is a large island, an island ruled by ogres. In this, their last great kingdom, they dream of the old days when they ruled the Earth and ate mankind every day. The great hall of the ogre king is a razor-lined pagoda that grows wider on the higher levels, a feat of architecture that stands despite the laws of physics.
Tangled Wood
North of Abaddon lies the Tangled Wood. Here thorny trees will lash out at those foolish enough to enter. Monsters and vile fae dwell here, many challenging the self-proclaimed king of the wood, Valerin.
Nastrond
Nastrond lies west of Abaddon. The Phlegethon divides the desert of Nastrond, much of it lying in the Inferno, but a wide swath sits within Tartarus. Some Unseelie roam this desert, but none more terrible than Nidhogg, the vile orm. Nidhogg feeds upon corpses--a near endless supply granted to him by the lesser fae in order to placate the fiend. Ghouls too roam the desert, eager for these corpse offerings. Those that cross Nidhogg have little chance to regret it.
Pandemonium
The greatest of the goblin cities, Pandemonium, lies south of Abaddon. Almost all kinds of Unseelie can be found in this domain, though it is ruled by the goblin king. It is a city of magic and mischief, chaos and suffering. Succubae run brothels, imps flit about the sky, and goblins press unfortunate prisoners into hard labor in their mines.
What kinds of sacrifices are requested by the guardians into Irkalla's next levels? Is it your typical fairy tale case where someone wanting to go deeper (or maybe get out) could trick them after agreeing to play a game and escape?
I'm envisioning a sort of private gladiatorial arena thing for the prison - the spires and chains serving as a barrier for any fae that decides to fight a mortal. Am I right in imagining this?
Do ogres make ventures to the mortal world to steal up people to eat or do they tend to wait for them to come to their territory?
You say that succubi run brothels in Pandemonium, but who do they cater to? Is it just the mortals that pass through or are there a lot of varied fae that take interest?
Quote from: FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSEI'm envisioning a sort of private gladiatorial arena thing for the prison - the spires and chains serving as a barrier for any fae that decides to fight a mortal. Am I right in imagining this?
You say that succubi run brothels in Pandemonium, but who do they cater to? Is it just the mortals that pass through or are there a lot of varied fae that take interest?
[/quote]
For the other Unseelie, mostly. Not a lot of mortals passing through hell; most are there to stay. I suppose they can service shades too. I haven't been real specific as to whether shades in the underworld can be corporeally affected, but since they can be tortured, I suppose they can. Or maybe the supernatural nature of the succubae is what allows it.
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]The giant glared down at me, all its many eyes radiating hatred. But it did not strike. It did not impede me as I rose from the ground, nor move to block my way as I went past it. I cannot say what the thing wanted from me--perhaps I was but a moment's curiosity, the single human foolish enough to enter this place of damnation.
Beyond the creature, beyond the spire, I found more giants, these with only one head and two arms. They languished here, reclining, not even bothering to converse with one another. At my entrance, their heads turned toward me. But as though the ennui was so thick as to paralyze them, not one moved or spoke to me. Perhaps these were the beings that the many headed giants watched over.
I approached one of the prisoners, if prisoners they were, and coughed. The giant sighed and rolled over on its side, leveling its head with me. It might have stood thirty foot tall, but even lying there, its head the size of my entire body, it left me trembling. "I am Orpheus. I come seeking a soul that was lost. You seem the greatest beings in this place, good giant."
If I had succeeded in my flattery, the giant didn't show it. Only it sighed, then spoke. "Amuse me, human, and I will speak with you."
I reached for my lyre before remembering it had broken in my fall. "I shall tell you a tale," I said. "A tale of sorrow and heroism, sacrifice and glory. I shall tell you my tale."
The giant reclined as I unfolded to it the events of my life and how I came to stand before it in the very depths of the underworld. I had thought that apathy so gripped these beings they could feel nothing, but I saw the glittering of a tear in the giant's eye when I spoke of my lost love. Perhaps even such as these had known love.
"You weave a good tale, Orpheus," the giant said some time after I finished. "I am Hyperion. I have been here for a very long time. Few have come to speak with us in that time. I do not know where your beloved has gone, but if she had a good heart, she might have found her way to the Skysea, the faerie paradise."
"I am grateful my lord. How do I reach this realm?"
"From Tartarus the journey would not be easy. But the salamanders of the Inferno are members of the Celestial Court. They must know the way. The Inferno lies beyond the river of fire, Phlegethon. Go there and seek the boatman Phlegyas to ferry you across his river."
I thanked Hyperion and fled from the Prison, careful to keep the spire tower between myself and the many-headed guardian. The river of fire seemed to run all around this place, so I supposed it did not too much matter which way I went. Brooding, lost in thought, I did not see the creature approach, but I felt the ground tremble as it drew near. I spun just as the beast scooped me up in its arms. It stood like a man, but over seven feet tall. It had blue skin and a horn jutted from its head. Whatever it said to me, I couldn't hear over the sound of my own screaming.
The ogre trotted along, carrying me under one arm like a bundle of kindling. "You good eats!" it told me when I begged it to release me. "Very nice thighs."[/ic]
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]"You don't really want to eat me," I told the ogre.
"No, no, you too tasty. Very good for eating."
Cradled under his arm, I had to strain to look him in the face. "Yes, I am a Deucalite, very tasty. But only if prepared correctly. Do you know the proper method?"
The ogre set me down in front of him then and glared, bending down to look at me. "Method?"
"Well the best way--and this is a secret recipe, so tell no one."
The ogre nodded with enthusiasm.
"First thing you need is fire wine." The ogre's eyes shifted from suspicious to confused. "From the Inferno, of course. But then, you'd have to go to find Phlegyas to get there, and I doubt you are prepared to do such a thing."
"Nah un. Got a bridge."
"Oh? A bridge? Well maybe you could get the fire wine. But you probably don't care about the best flavor do you?"
The ogre grunted, hefted me back under his arms and took off in a new direction. Given his great strides, we soon came to the river of fire. A small stone bridge crossed the flow. Even from my elevated position, the heat washed over me. I was sweating and panting when we stopped at the other side. My vantage made it difficult to get a good look at the place. But from what I could see of this cracked, volcanic wasteland, that was perhaps fortuitous.
"Where fire wine at?"
"Oh, great ogre," I began with a sigh. "The best fire wine is held by the salamanders. Should you take me to them, perhaps we can trade them for some fire wine."
The ogre grumbled and shook my under his arm. "Salamanders no trade with us. We go to afrit. They like salamanders. But better. City of Brass, this way."
"Excellent plan," I told him.
[/ic]
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]My ogre captor carried me across the rocky waste, careful to avoid the sulfuric vents that leapt at his feet. The fumes they expelled smelled even worse than my companion.
When he said we would travel to the City of Brass, I did not realize there might literally be a city carved of brass. The city might have looked at home in the desert of Paran, had it not been carved of metal. As we entered a wave of heat washed over us, like the metal was intended to absorb the heat from the surrounding fires.
Metal statues of warriors guarded every entrance, though I cannot say what deterrent such lifeless objects might be to anyone fool enough to assault such a place. The beings--for I cannot call them people--that inhabited the city were as tall as my captor. But their skin was black as coal, their faces twisted as though burned, and their eyes glowed like fire. I presumed we had found the afrit my ogre sought.
"We trade for fire wine," the ogre told one of them.
The afrit cocked its head and leaned in closer to the ogre. "What do you seek earth spirit?"
"Fire wine. Salamander wine."
The afrit chuckled, though the sound was more like coals grating over a bed of rocks. "Ask the salamanders for their wine."
"Salamanders not trade with ogres."
I had not had the chance to consider what would happen if the ogre realized I made up the wine I sent him after. But perhaps the salamanders really did have their own wine. If only I could convince the ogre to bring me to them. "You just have to bring them something they want," I chimed in.
The afrit turned its gaze on me, and again cocked its head to the side, leaning lower so it could look in my eyes. "This soul has passion. Leave the human, ogre. And we shall reward you for him. He will make a fine addition to our army." Somehow being eaten by the ogre seemed better than what the afrit might to do me.
"Nah un. My human."
The afrit glowered, but did not attack. I cannot say why, for surely they had us outnumbered here. "Then be gone, earth spirit. We have no need of your kind."
We left the city only to see a train of goblins wheeling in cartfuls of some ore. I did not dare ask my companion.
"Sorry," the ogre said to me, turning back the way we came. "Guess I no get good flavor for you."
"You have not even tried to trade with the salamanders my lord. We will think of something to offer them, never fear."
The ogre nodded and turned in a new direction. After leaving the desert, we approached a field I might have called tidal pools, were they not filled with lava. I could barely think, much less speak. As we neared, a pair of salamanders--though far larger than those we had on Earth--rose up on their hind legs and awaited our approach.
"What we give them?"
"The salamanders are like the afrit," I rasped.
"Uh huh."
"And the afrit wanted me. So trade me for the wine."
"Smart." The ogre carried me over to the salamanders and thrust me out in front of them. "Give you human for fire wine." I pleaded at the lizard-like creatures with my eyes.
The two salamanders looked at one another, and then one slipped away. He returned a moment later with a rock urn that spewed steam from its top. The ogre dropped me and took the urn, hurrying away from the salamanders.
"I am glad there was such a thing as fire wine."
One salamander hissed at me. The one that had brought the urn spoke. "There isn't. It's filled with lava."
The hideous sound I heard some distance behind me told me the ogre had tried to sample some. I did not look back.
[/ic]
The Inferno
Aliases: Muspelheim
Beyond the Phlegethon, river of fire, lies the volcanic wasteland known as the Inferno. Geysers of lava spew from the ground, chasms vent sulfuric fumes, and some of the most dangerous beings in the underworld lurk in the rocky wastes and underground mountains. The enormous cavern is bounded by rock on all sides.
Burning Roots
In this ash-ridden cavern the roots of the World Tree have extended all the way down through the sea and broken through the cavernous ceiling. Now hollowed, they provide a steep, winding passageway up to the Skysea, for those that can brave the sulfur vents and ash clouds surrounding this cavern. And, of course, the scorpion men that guard the entrance against Unseelie invasion.
Nastrond
The river Phlegethon splits the desert of Nastrond between the Inferno and Tartarus, but the greater portion lies in the Inferno. It is home to scorpion men and serim who wage never-ending war. The greatest site in Nastrond, however, is the magnificent City of Brass.
City of Brass
The afrit city, the City of Brass, is far larger than its inhabitants need, for it once belonged to the salamanders. The salamanders lost the city to their Unseelie counterparts, and though they outnumber the Unseelie, they cannot retake the city. For the afrit possess horrible automata built of orichalcum. These living clockwork statues are the greatest secret of the afrit--who will pay almost any sum for more of the metal. Though mindless, they are also tireless and almost indestructible: the perfect guardians.
The city itself is elaborately carved from brass. Its streets run with canals of lava, filling the entire city with steam. The great magma baths at the heart of the city are the pinnacle of its construction. The giant domed ceilings of the city stretch far into the sky, though some might call it all a mirage.
Salamander Pools
Most salamanders dwell in this ramshackle series of stone huts, spread out along pools of magma. The fumes keep the city baking, the magma provides a constant source of rejuvenation for the salamanders. But they ever plot the retaking of the City of Brass.
Ashfall
Ashfall is the volcano home of the fire giants. They are led by Surtur, the king, who is said to be unstoppable when wielding his flaming sword. He considers himself ruler of the all the Inferno. The fire giants have turned the mountain into a fortress, digging to runnels for the lava to flow during its almost daily small eruptions. They use this flow to create a moat of magma.
The mountain is now ringed by a series of parapets. The fire giants guard their lair jealously.
I added Ashfall (mountain) to the Inferno. How could I forget the fire giants!
Well I read the first post and I like it, it's very nicely built and described according to myth logic.
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]"Please," I said again. "I have to reach the Skysea. The titan told me you might know the way."
"We have no reason to help you human," the salamander hissed at me.
"But you have already saved me from the ogre."
"Getting an ogre to drink lava is its own reward." The salamander dipped a toe into a magma pool and then sunk in, in much the way I might have eased into a hot bath. I believe he liked it hotter than I would have.
"If there is a way to the faerie realm, how am I to find it without you? Surely there must be something I can offer you, salamander."
"Can you kill afrit? Reclaim the City of Brass? Disrupt their supply of orichalcum? Aid our warriors?"
"I cannot do those things. I am a poet and musician. But I can write a song of your plight, the stolen city, the noble fire elementals standing against their corrupt cousins. All that hear your tale will be moved by it."
The salamander seemed to consider my offer for a moment. "Then you shall play the Salamander's Ballad before the Celestial Court." I nodded. "Follow me. And start composing."
I hummed out a tune as I trudged after the salamander. It moved on all fours, scurrying ahead, then waiting for me to catch up, then scurrying ahead again.
At last we came to a new cavern. Within this cavern, the roots of some great tree had dug through the ceiling. Vents of steam obscured them, as they obscured, at first, the giant scorpions that now approached me. No, not scorpions, I realized, but scorpion-men. I have no words for such terrors.
And yet, when my guide assured them I had permission to be here, they moved aside without a word. I pity any soul that should come here without their leave.
We found one of the massive roots had been hollowed, and a narrow, winding staircase carved into it. This path, which might extend forever, this path I walked, alone.[/ic]
I'm sorry that I couldn't make the Q&A. Long trip yesterday, and I didn't get home until very late.
I almost end up feeling pity for the ogre. It's definitely a very humorous situation at least.
I've noticed you use a lot of familiar names, not just familiar places. Are you taking the same liberties with them as you do mythological places?
Orpheus seems to be getting further and further into debt with immortal entities... do I sense an eventual ultimate sacrifice?
A river of fire to separate two burning landscapes - sounds like the ultimate place for a great battle.
Yeah, sorry you couldn't make it. But things come up.
Quote from: FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSEI've noticed you use a lot of familiar names, not just familiar places. Are you taking the same liberties with them as you do mythological places?
Every named character in the setting is a character from mythology, if that's what you mean; like the places, they are adapted to the needs of the story, but they are supposed to be the actual characters/places.
Not that it really matters, but as Sparkletwist mentioned in the Q&A, the setting supposes that the real universe will exist after the end of Eschaton. The memories of these characters and places survive in the collective unconscious of souls, and thus inspire the myths, albeit somewhat altered from the historical (i.e. Eschaton version).
Quote from: FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSEA river of fire to separate two burning landscapes - sounds like the ultimate place for a great battle.
If someone ran an Eschaton campaign, that would be a neat spot for a climatic battle. Or like a lightsaber duel.
I think one of things I could use help with is description. Being kind of a minimalist writer, that's never been my strongest suit. And also more ideas to fantasy/fairytale up the landscapes. Like FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSE gave me this idea where Cedar Forest is under the effect of a continual shimmer, like viewed through a waterfall. My descriptions of magical realms feel sparse to me.
I'll definitely jump on for helping you describe things in more detail, but the way I see it the areas of the Underworld are already overflowing with things that would be obvious. The Inferno should take some serious inspiration from some of the hotter planets in Mass Effect (if you've ever played and visited them), with the jagged, unclimbable peaks and air that looks like it'd catch fire and burn the world if it were only a little hotter. It would add to the atmosphere I think if the place looked like it was above ground to a degree... in an eternal red sunset that looks like the sky in places... but if you look far enough back into the "night" you could see the "sun" glimmering on the high cavern ceiling.
All good ideas. These are the kinds of things I need more of :)
[ic=The Song of Orpheus] From the moment the light rose over the mountains I knew nothing I ever saw would be the same. When I could at last see the sky I realized that the island, for I had climbed through darkness to reach an island, was not in the sea, but in the sky. Clouds drifted by so close I could almost have reached out and touched them, did I not fear the edge. Trees bloomed in a hundred shades of green, and flowers in every color imaginable. But all of this paled before the myriad denizens. Where those below had been horrific, those above were ethereal. Some flitted across the sky on ethereal wings, some frolicked in the streams without fear of being swept over the side, and others peered at me from hiding places behind the foliage. The spirits of nature viewed me with as much curiosity as I saw them, though less fear.
I walked through vibrant fields in a daze until a woman stood before me. She bent almost in half to stare at my toes and then straightened as she examined every inch of me. Given her translucent shift, I felt it hard not to return the gesture.
"Where am I?"
"Mag Mell. Elysium, you'd call it." She poked me in the chest. "Hmph. Solid."
"I need to find my lost love Eurydice. Where would her soul roam?"
The woman shrugged. "Lots of shades in Kibu. But then we get some roaming the fields here, too. They don't like them in the cities too much. But I don't mind them in my fields." She leaned closer. "I don't mind you in my fields either."
"My lady, can you help me find Eurydice?"
She sighed. "If it's a soul you want, you might have to see the emperor. And good luck with that."
[/ic]
The Skysea
Aliases: Alfheim, Svarga, Paristan, Tir Nan Og, Kaluwalhatian
The roots of the World Tree reach down from the Earth, from the unknown reaches of the sky in the underworld. Clusters of land have formed around these roots, creating islands in the sky surrounding Mount Mashu. This is the Skysea: glorious, shinning realm of the Seelie, and paradisiacal dream of the fallen.
These lands of eternal spring are home to many fae nations, all part of the Celestial Court which holds together the underworld. All bow before the wisdom and power of the Celestial Emperor.
The Isles
Eight islands compose the Skysea. The islands are Hsuan, Annwn, Mag Mell, Faylinn, Momur, Dilmun, Avaiki, and Kibu. Each island is ruled by a Minister who is king or queen of their island. They are in service to the Celestial Emperor, or High King.
Each isle operates as an independent and self-sufficient kingdom. Some other isles can be reached via the root network of the World Tree, bridges, or skystreams. Additionally, the Bifrost bridge connects the Nether Realm to Mag Mell.
Rivers from all the islands empty into the World Sea far below via waterfalls, and yet they never run dry. Fresh water bubbles up from the ground, perhaps brought by the roots of the World Tree. The Skysea isles are dreamlike and timeless paradises.
Hsuan is the largest of the islands, a mountainous realm with misty peaks and forests, and hidden lakes. Annwn is a misty isle of apple orchards and vernal forests. Mag Mell is a large island covered in plains, rolling hills, and light forest. Faylinn is home to the magnificent singing trees. Avaiki has the climate of a tropical island. Kibu is inhabited almost solely by shades.
The Celestial Court
The emperor's palace is located on the island of Hsuan. Below the various royal families, a large number of Ministers of other offices exist, such as the Minister of Storms, the Minister of Tides, and the Minister of Examinations. Each Minister is appointed by the Emperor or his subordinates. Beneath the Ministers are minor court officials that report to Ministers, and those beneath them. Beneath the court officials, even non-court fae may have specialized roles, such as patrons of various professions, or guardians of landforms. While shades can occasionally attain a rank, most merely flit about their paradise without thought beyond the present.
The imperial palace appears to be cut from gold. The rising sun causes it gleam in amazing light. Fishponds run parallel to its many walkways. It is an enormous, multi-tiered wonder situated high in the mountains. Thousands of steps carved into the mountainside lead up to the palace.
Because the emperor controls the flow of souls to the Seelie, they must petition him for the right to have children. He will generally grant this boon when souls are available, though ranking officials get priority.
The Skystreams
The fastest and safest way to travel between the isles of the Skysea is via skystreams. At the crest of waterfalls where river plummet into the depths of the World Sea, mist rises. This mist coalesces into cloud-like channels that a vessel with the proper hull can sail along as though the river had never ended. These skystreams will always connect to a river on another island. It's not always possible to go directly from a given island to a specific one, but you can always find a boatman that can navigate the kingdoms to get you there eventually. In this way, some say there is only one river on all the isles, and it stretches across land and sky in endless branches.
The Dragon Gate
There is one great fall from which issues no skystream. Around this waterfall is a massive arch called the Longmen, or Dragon Gate. As the dragons of the World Sea mature, some grow strong enough to try to swim up the waterfall and through the Dragon Gate. Those that succeed have learned to fly, and thus begin their personal evolution into more advanced forms of dragon. They must then fly on toward the imperial palace to receive the blessing of the emperor.
What happens if someone falls off one of the islands or a river snaking between them?
Where did the concept of the dragons swimming up the waterfall to learn to fly come from? Did you create it yourself? I've never heard of something like that before.
What is Kibu like? You say it's mostly inhabited by shades but I'm not seeing much of a physical description. Is it a lot more devoid of life and features except for the shades, or?
Thanks for the questions, Horse Man!
Quote from: FREAKIN' AWESOME HORSEWhere did the concept of the dragons swimming up the waterfall to learn to fly come from? Did you create it yourself? I've never heard of something like that before.
What is Kibu like? You say it's mostly inhabited by shades but I'm not seeing much of a physical description. Is it a lot more devoid of life and features except for the shades, or?
[/quote]
I haven't really decided. I want to do a detail write-up for each island, but I on the other hand someone did advise me not to get too caught up in details for every land. Just enough to hint at depths. I'd like to see each island as physically different.
With Hsuan, I'm obviously going for mythic Chinese--which I found hard to describe, BTW.
With Avaiki, it's a generic tropical island suited to Oceanic myth.
With Kibu, I've considered the idea that it's like some giant valley, you know, curved inward. I was kind of thinking of it as more devoid of other life, but it shouldn't be barren, if only because dreary lifeless places belong in the Nether Realm. The Skysea is supposed to be paradise.
I had been thinking somewhere I wanted porous mountains that would "sing" when the wind blows through them. I'd also considered the idea of crystal mountains.
[blockquote=Phoenix]I haven't really decided. I want to do a detail write-up for each island, but I on the other hand someone did advise me not to get too caught up in details for every land. Just enough to hint at depths. I'd like to see each island as physically different.[/blockquote]
Right, it's not that important to go into detail for every island. The minimal description you've got is more than enough until someone actually ventures there - at that point you'll want more detail, but beforehand it's not necessary.
What about making the porous mountains part of Kibu? And how about it's a combination of the other islands, but everything there is in black and white, possibly including those who make temporary visits? I think no color would possibly fit an isle of shades quite well.
I think the porous mountains could work well. Make it a singing isle.
While I like the basic idea of a B/W land, I'm not sure it fits with any conception of paradise, or fairyland.
(Shades are untainted ghosts, as opposed to spectres, should that clear anything up. Basically souls which remain self-aware.)
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]A shudder ran through me and set my insides to trembling when I dared look over the side of the skiff. Clouds surrounded us, but beyond them, the blue sky. The boatman navigated the skystream without worry, perhaps without enough caution. Another foot to port and we would plummet through that endless blue.
"Play another," the boatman commanded.
I had had little to trade for passage from Mag Mell to Hsuan. But when the faeries heard I was a musician, they produced a new lyre for me and bade me play for them. In a way, it was like coming full circle. I once again strummed my lyre as my means of navigating the underworld, earning the favor of its dead or undying denizens. But I exchanged oppressive shadows for awe-inducing sky and trees and mountains. As though every feature of the world were magnified and viewed through the veil of dreams.
And at last Hsuan, island of the emperor, came into view. Mist billowed off its turquoise mountains in the distance. A great many rivers flowed across the landscape, many ending in skystreams like the one I now navigated. But one plummeted from the floating isle without becoming a skystream. A great archway framed this waterfall, and before my eyes, a dragon swam up the fall and through the gate. From there it flew upward--though it had no wings--and toward the distant mountains.
"That's your destination, too," my guide said.
For a moment, as the boat entered the stream, we fought the current. Then the boatman navigated into a small harbor. And there he left me, in a land more strange than even the from which I had lastly come.[/ic]
[ic=The Song of Orpheus]My lungs burned like fire in the thin mountain air. Only a few more steps stood between me and the summit where the emperor's palace stood. But I could walk no farther. On my hands and knees, I crawled those final steps, then lay on my gasping.
Others passed me by, paying me little heed. Or perhaps they did notice me, but I was too dazed to realize it. After what must have been a half an hour or more, I rolled over and took my feet. A dull ache simmered throughout my body. I trudged through the palace doors, which must have stood fifty feet high. The main hall was decked with murals painted on banners hanging from the ceiling. They depicted the faeries warring against the corrupted fiends I had seen in Tartarus, or singing beneath the moonlight, or caught in the throes of passion. Had I been less exhausted and less awed, I might have blushed at some of the displays.
Ahead of me, a man--though of course he was not a man but some kind of spirit--sat at a desk with an enormous book before him. Quill in hand, he recorded information about each petitioner before me. "Name, rank, and business," he said when I approached, though he never looked up from the book.
"Orpheus. Ah, human. I need to see the emperor about raising the dead."
He looked up then. "Oh. Well that's a new one. I'll file that under special requests. Please have a seat. His August Majesty will be with you in one to twenty years."
"I cannot wait twenty years, nor even one year, sir. I am merely human, and my quest cannot wait."
The clerk snorted. "Well aren't you special, then." But he sent a runner to speak with the emperor.
The benches did indeed look inviting. But I feared if I were to sit now, I might never be able to rise again. So I stood beside the clerk's desk and I waited.[/ic]