In
recent months I have been assigned the task of
cataloguing all the known demiplanes floating about in
the Deep Ethereal, and compiling all known information
about said demiplanes. As curious and interesting as some
of these demiplanes have been, for the greater part this
has been nothing but a tiresome labour. On average, for
every demiplane actually worth some examination,
there have been a dozen dull little Ethereal castles
built by reclusive Prime wizards.
However,
for the three weeks prior to writing this entry I had
been chasing rumours about that bogeyman of the Deep
Ethereal, the so-called "Demiplane of Dread." It
seems that every cutter to have ever bent an elbow in a
Sigil tavern has something to say about this place, yet
the more interviews I carried out, the more one truth
came to light: none of these people know a thing about
what they were talking about. I have yet to come across a
single interviewee who was ever there, or who personally
met anyone who was ever there. Everyone simply seems to
have a "friend of a friend" who escaped, it seems. So
disgusted was I with this deplorable lack of facts, that
I was about to dismiss the entire notion of the so-called
"Demiplane of Dread" as nothing more than so much penny
gush.
Then
I had a rather unusual encounter.
I
was sitting on the steps of the City Court, eating my
lunch as I am wont to do, and feeling quite frustrated
over my fruitless quest. It had stopped raining just
before my lunch break; the air was still quite hazy with
moisture, and mists were rising up from the cobbles. All
in all, another dark and foggy Peak in Sigil, not that I
was particularly concerned.
I
don't remember daydreaming or otherwise being caught up
in my own thoughts, but somehow I failed to notice the
approach of an old woman. In fact, I didn't notice her
until she was standing directly in front of me, and I
must confess I was a bit startled. Her clothes were
rather dark and plain, and she looked to be as old as the
Spire itself. The aroma of spices hung about her, and she
leaned heavily on a crooked old walking stick.
As
mentioned, I was a bit startled, and simply sat looking
up at her for a moment. Without any words of
introduction, she handed me a book, telling me it might
aid me in my quest. I took the book without comment, and
she immediately turned and walked off into the fog. I
believe she was with a group; through the fog I could
faintly make out some sort of gaudy enclosed wagon pulled
by two black horses. Yes, horses in Sigil, believe it or
not! Two dark-haired men rode atop the wagon, and one
more stood to the rear. The old woman entered the wagon
and in a few moments the lot of them were
gone.
Obviously,
the woman was some sort of eccentric, but I had a look at
the book she'd handed me anyway. It was old and
crumbling, with a frayed leather cover bearing no title.
Gently looking through its pages, I quickly surmised that
it was the notes of an unknown wizard.
Intrigued,
I returned to my office next to Records Room B and
started reading, thinking that this anonymous mage might
detail the mysterious so-called Demiplane of Dread. To my
disappointment, he didn't. In fact, the more I read the
book, the less I liked it.
The
tome held the research notes of a conjurer; it held every
discovery he had ever made throughout his career.
Unfortunately, he was the most woefully misinformed
conjurer I have ever encountered. He was the very epitome
of a Clueless berk. At first, I though the author lived
in Gehenna, and was simply using an unusual spelling when
he named his home; after all, he wrote in a highly
archaic and eccentric style. Perhaps some yugoloth had
waxed poetic and written the book in some dubious plot to
mislead the wizards who read it?
Suddenly
it struck me! The old woman had told me the book might
help me in my quest! What if this "G'Henna" the author
lived in was not the lower plane I knew of? What
if G'Henna was some other, uncharted place? Could it
be?
This
book was not a description of the Demiplane of Dread!
This book was a description of the Multiverse, written by
a denizen of that mysterious place!
Exciting
as this revelation was, the book remains of extremely
limited worth, perhaps most useful as a lesson that not
all authors are experts in their field. I have seen no
evidence to support the author's concept of "planar
gravity," and the author seems blissfully unaware of the
existence of planes aligned more closely to Law and Chaos
rather than Good or Evil. For that matter, I see nowhere
in his "Well of Worlds" to place the Outlands or
the Astral. Not to mention that he seems to place his
"Mortal World" at the centre (perhaps I should say
bottom) of the multiverse, rather than Sigil (which he
also ignores). Sadly, the book is more indicative of the
author's own ignorance than any hidden laws of the
multiverse. Then again, perhaps his notes have been
shaped by unusual, local planar laws? Could he be living
in the realm of an unnamed Power and somehow not know it?
Could it be that in describing the laws of the
multiverse, he really describes the laws of his
home?
As
you can see, the book offers more questions than answers.
But it did convince of one thing: if a denizen of the
so-called Demiplane of Dread could be so ignorant of the
multiverse even after what his notes indicate are a
lifetime of study, then wherever he lives (or lived)
certainly has no great truths to teach us about
reality.
For
quick review, I prepared a few choice excerpts from this
rather lengthy and convoluted text. Many pages in the
book are taken up with detailed if dubious diagrams,
notes from various experiments, and other items of little
interest to the casual reader. The original tome was then
placed in Records Room B, but an assistant informs me it
has recently been misplaced. Thus, my excerpts are all
that remain of the tome, at least for now. Presented here
are the author's depictions of the planes; enjoy them,
for what they're worth.
It
doth appear to the learned scholar that as above, so
below, and as below, so above. Should thou taketh up a
stone and drop it, it needs must fall; if thou dost throw
it to the heavens, it needs must Return to ground.
Lo,
'tis much the same with the Planes of Existence.
Descension is the natural order; Ascension worketh
against the grain. Thus, 'tis a simple matter to pluck
Beings from their lofty perches and bring them to earth;
returning them from whence they fell is altogether a
different matter.
However,
as doth a feather upon a summer breeze, some things are
empowered to Ascend through the lightness of their being.
Such is this when the Soul, upon the demise of its
earthly flesh, doth shed that weight and begin to float
skyward, burdened only by its sins. Every soul needs want
Ascension; how far they rise is marked by the level of
purity they doth obtain; also by their connections to the
Mortal World.
Many
souls can release not their fearful grasp upon this
mortal coil, and are trapped by their own weight to
remain here, in the form of dreadful spirits.
The
universe is as a Well, with one world piled upon another
like great stones. Ether is the water which doth
fill the Well; it joineth these worlds together and doth
hold them fast, and it is through this Ether that beings
Gravitate.
Here
at the bottom of the Well is the Mortal World, where Man
maketh his life as is his destiny; this land all around
us. The Mortal World is small and insignificant in scope,
with narrow borders marked by that vapour known as the
World's End Mists. These Mists hide the Worlds
above from our view, and hide the Mortal World from eyes
above. But just as valleys lie hidden by intervening
mountains, other realms lie beyond our vision.
Holding
separate the Mortal World from the Planes is the
Firmament, a crystalline shell upon which hangeth
the stars. Within this shell is another, upon which the
Sun is placed; within this shell yet one more, upon which
yon Moon doth rest.
Beyond
the Firmament, yet also within it (albeit hidden to the
untrained eye) is the World of Darkness and its lesser
brother the World of Light. These realms are muchly like
mirrors of the Mortal World. The world of Darkness doth
reflect all that is foul; the world of Light all that is
pure. Night and Day, Death and Life. These worlds swirl
about our own, and are the sources of energy from which
all magic draweth strength, be it potions Healing or
Vampire's touch.
Beyond
and above the worlds of Darkness and Light are the
Worlds Materiel. There are four realms of purity;
these are Earth, Wind, Water, and Flame. These worlds are
entirely materiel, each composed of naught but its base
element. Where these worlds touch, they create new
realms, such as Smoke, Ash, or Ooze. Where the Worlds
Materiel touch Darkness they create Terrible areas of
Shadow. It is from all these realms that the summoner
calleth down the Creatures Elemental. In truth, through
all of time the detritus of these Worlds Materiel hath
trickled down to Us; the Mortal World is composed of
these elements.
Those
souls buoyant enough to rise this far next reach the
Baser Realms. These are harsh and terrible regions, with
tormenting creatures which will set upon the less buoyant
spirit with the ravenous appetites of starved mongrels.
'Tis here where souls marked by Sin will cease to rise,
and here they are doomed to remain. 'Tis from these Baser
Realms that the summoner may conjure the most horrible
and powerful of servants.
'Tis
also here where several of those Beings known to the
Priest as Gods are thought to reside; these Gods are as
cruel as the above mentioned fiendish beasts. 'Tis fact:
they seek to spread their Corruption on the Worlds Below,
just as the apple tree doth drop its seed-bearing fruit
from Branch to Soil.
Beyond
these realms of punishment are the Ascendant Levels,
places of peace and rest, which may be reached by only
the most weightless of souls. Here exist the remote Gods
of Purity and Light. These Levels are separated from the
Mortal World by All the Worlds between, and all the
power-jealous Beings therein. Thus it comes as no
surprise to the Learned individual that the Ascendant
Beings seldom reach down far enough to touch the Mortal
World, as would seem simpler for their Baser
brethren.
What
doth lie above the Ascendant Levels is known by No Man,
for too distant to be seen are these lofty perches. A Man
would do as well to reach out to take the Moon in his
Hand.
If
there are yet further Worlds below ours, they are known
Not to Man; for they lack the strength to rise to our
Realm, and the Mists hide them from our
scrying.
