Katabasis: Song of Orpheus

[Matt Larkin (author)]

[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.

[XXsiriusXX]

Has a very Norse feel to it, I am rather interested to see where this goes.

[Matt Larkin (author)]

It's a more refined version of the building the underworld 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.

[Hibou]

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.

[Matt Larkin (author)]

[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, 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. 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.

[Hibou]

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.

[Matt Larkin (author)]

[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]

[Matt Larkin (author)]

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)?

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.

[Hibou]

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.

[Hibou]

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?

[Matt Larkin (author)]

[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]

[Matt Larkin (author)]

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.

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.

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.

[Hibou]

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.

[Matt Larkin (author)]

[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.

[Hibou]

[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?