Physical Conditions of Pandemonium

"My god! The wind! The howling! It's driving me mad!"   "What? I can't hear you!"

- Small Talk in Pandemonium

Pandemonium'’s basically a plane of solid rock honeycombed with all sorts of tunnels and caverns. The Clueless like to say that it's sort of the opposite of Ysgard — Pandemonium with its long tunnels bored through endless rock, whereas Ysgard is great rivers of earth arching through airy space. But they’re bloody berks. The chant's that Pandemonium makes even frosty, rugged Ysgard seem like a picnic ground. It's always dark in Pandemonium, and a stale, chilly wind howls forever through the tunnels. In a few relatively sheltered places it's just a breeze carrying haunting echoes that sound like distant wails of torment. But in most reaches, it's a constant gale that buffets a berk about, blowing sand and dirt into his eyes, snuffing out torches (or even all but the most sheltered lanterns), carrying away any loose items (such as physical spell components), and carrying the sound of caterwauling likely to drive a sod mad. (As a matter of fact, continued exposure to the noise eventually drives most sods at least a bit insane — more about madness in a bit.) And in the worst areas, the wind’s a deafening torrent that can lift a creature off its feet and carıy it for miles, banging the body off rock formations and scraping it along rough cavern walls until there's nothing left but ragged scraps.   (small insert before the next section, in DnD lore Darkvision actually works more like infravision and the next text section references this. The gist of it is that there are basically no temperature differences and no natural light that would allow one with darkvision to see there, ergo, darkvision doesn't work)   Darkness is a real problem for most visitors to Pandemonium. There are no natural sources of light anywhere on the plane, so most bashers have to bring artificial light if they want to see anything. Sure, a cutter with darkvision can get by without it, except for two problems. First, the cold, rough stone of the walls tends to absorb and dissipate heat very quickly, which makes the terrain dim and difficult to see even with darkvision. Consequently, while a berk’s busy watching the floor for holes that could twist an ankle, she’ likely to crack her head on an outcropping she didn't notice. Second, Pandemonium’s petitioners don't give off any body heat, so they're “infravisionally” invisible. As a result, darkvision’s not good enough for anyone who doesn't want to stumble along half-blind to the terrain and completely blind to any local petitioners.   Really well-made lanterns can solve the problem in all but the windiest of locations, and the town of Bedlam — which holds the best-known gate leading to Pandemonium from the Qutlands — has such things for sale. Magical light's even more dependable, of course, the only problem with either one of these is that they draw attention to the cutter using them — carrying a light source into a totally dark plane is like waving a torch from a hilltop at midnight. It's sure to make the locals stand up and take notice. And given the nature of Pandemonium’s denizens (most of them being strongly chaotic with a slight bent toward evil), drawing attention to themselves is the last thing most visitors here should want to do.   Actually traveling the tunnels of Pandemonium bears some resemblances to normal spelunking. One major difference is that in most places on the plane gravity’s oriented toward whatever wall a soul is closest to. This means that a basher can walk across the “floor.” up one “wall,” across the "ceiling,” and back down again. ‘Course, it doesn't feel that way to a berk doing it. Rather, it seems as if the tunnel is somehow rolling to keep pace with the walker. This can be disconcerting to beings used to one-way gravity. But it makes for some interesting combats and chase scenes, with bravos firing arrows upward toward opponents on the "ceiling.” or stabbing sideways at opponents standing on the, "walls.”   Pandemonium’s tunnels run the gamut of sizes. In some places, they’re tiny crawlways scarcely large enough for an imp to wriggle through. At the opposite extreme, they’re huge bores hundreds of miles across. Most fall somewhere in the middle of that range, though that's still large enough to dwarf the largest caverns on most prime-material worlds. (But then, that's the case with most landscapes on the Outer Planes: They set prime planar vistors to shame. That's one of the reasons so many primes come to the Outer Planes in the first place, Just to gaze at the scenery like stunned barmies.)   The intensity of wind in Pandemonium’s passages doesn't seem to have any fixed relationship to their size. A basher would think that the wind would flow slower in the larger passages, where there’s plenty of room, and faster in the smaller ones where things’remore constricted. But only a total leatherhead would think anything’s ever that simple. Nobody knows for sure just where the winds come from, or where they ultimately go to, but some flow faster and colder than others. Consequently, there's huge tunnels where hardly a breath of air stirs, and others that seem filled with hurricanes. Just the same, there's crawlways with just enough breeze to refresh the air, and others where the wind rushes through so fast it'll blow a poor sod through the tunnel like a pebble through a reed. What's worse, there's no way of knowing when and where a new wind stream will enter the tunnel a cutter's traveling; the walls of most passages contain so many tiny, hidden inlets and outlets for air that it's Just about impossible for any non-native to predict a wind change. As a result, a cutter might be inching along through a relatively peaceful crawlway only to find that a few paces ahead the wind starts howling and tugging like a mad banshee.   Travel through Pandemonium’s endless caverns is further complicated by the foul water flowing here. Most passages have a stream of one size or another, whether its a bare trickle or a raging torrent. In most places, these flow along a wall — though given the nature of Pandemonium’s gravity, that may mean corkserewing along from underfoot to overhead and back again. But in the few places where the water's been diverted toward the center of a tunnel, streams actually flow along through the air down the very center of the passage, where the gravity from all the walls is exactly counterbalanced. If they’re moving very fast, these midair streams can throw up a spray that then falls back toward the tunnel walls, filling the air with an oily mist and making footing horribly slippery. Of course, slippery footing isn't the only danger of Pandemonium’s waters: A berk’s got to keep in mind that some of the streams here form the headwaters of the River Styx, which has a nasty habit of robbing berks of their memories.    

The River Styx

As many a prime world's legends hint, the River Styx is a river of forgetfulness. Drinking its waters — or even touching them, on most planes — can make a berk forget everything he ever knew. Now, the waters aren’t quite as dangerous in Pandemonium as in the Abyss and beyond, mainly because they’re not usually as deep, and not as steeped in evil (and not quite as repugnantly dark and oily). Simply touching the water in Pandemonium doesn't have any deleterious effect, as it does elsewhere (or else the spray from the occasional midair stream would be a real problem). Swallowing the water full calls for a saving (Wisdom Save with varying DC. If that saving throw is failed, the poor sod forgets his past life, entirely and permanently, including all spells, class abilities, and alignment). Even if a berk succeeds at the saving throw, he forgets the entire past day. So cutters should be sure to carry their own water on this plane, and berks who fall into one of the deeper streams here should remember to keep their mouths closed!   That brings up another possible danger: The deeper streams sometimes run extremely fast, and they can sweep a soul away. Now, considering that the Styx flows to all the other Lower Planes, but does so in an unpredictable manner — no one except the river's mystical boatmen seems to understand it's tangled course — bashers who get swept away might find themselves anywhere in the Lower Planes (from the Styx to the sticks, so to speak). And ending up in Gehenna when a berk's only packed for a trip to Pandemonium can put a real cramp in a sod’s style. So, if the water's so dangerous on Pandemonium, what do the locals drink? Well, there's some safe pools here and there, especially on the upper layers. Naturally, they tend to become the centres of inhabited areas on the plane. And some of the plane's dwellers know treatments to make the other water safe. But there are always those poor sods who ignorantly drink from the Styx when they first arrive, and they never learn to quit. See, each time they drink, they lose their memory, so there#s no way they can realize that it's the water going it to them. These addle-coves just wander Pandemonium, without a clue as to what's happening to them. Of course, their chance of surviving long this way is extremely low. Something predatory's bound to meet up with them sooner or later, and take advantage of their empty-headedness.  

Denizens of the Styx

  Charon and his ilk don't get far into the Styx's headwaters. They like to play the deeper, wider branches. So unless a stream's at least deep enough to hold a canoe, a cutter certaintly won't be meeting with those spectral boatmen, and even that depth's a bit shallow. (Face it, the marraenoloths wouldn't make much money trying to ferry berks across a stream they could just as easily wade.) The same holds true for most of the other beings a soul hears about haunting the Styx - like the hydroloths. they like to lurk in deeper, fouler waters, so they don't often get into the smaller streams of Pandemonium's normal passageways - only the bigger ones.   What things do dwell in and around the smaller streams are huge snails, slugs, and leeches, blind albino eels, lampreys, quipeers 8fresh water piranhas), catfish, large pallid crayfish, and freshwater crabs. primes are usually surprised at the size of these things. But while they're large enough to be nuisances (the water dwellers, that is: not the primes), relatively few approach giant size.

Madness

The phrase "maddening noise” is more than just an expression in Pandemonium. Insanity from continual exposure to the howling wind is a real danger. Just about everyone dwelling on the plane has succumbed to it to some extent. Some have gone completely off the deep end, but the majority remain relatively normal in most ways, manifesting their madness in one particular aspect or another.   The madness rules that follow are intended to add flavor to the perils of Pandemonium. Problem is, all such rules run the risk of robbing players of control over their characiers or demeaning their characters’ heroism. Conscquently, the DM has to keep in mind that the rules are designed as a guide to role-playing, not as a replacement for it. Other than where specific mechanics are given, players should apply these descriptions as seems to best fit their own characters personalies. When player characters begin to fall prey to madness from Pandemonium's winds, the DM should explain the relevant section to their players, then trust them to play the part. If a player feels uncomfortable with the situation, though, don't push. The point - as always - is to have fun.   Oh, by the way, playing a recording of howling wind in the background at game sessions, or at least whistling and groaning like the wind whenever the players are talking things out or making plans, goes a long way toward setting the tone of Pandemonium. Such is the stuff of which good role-playing is made.   Visitors to Pandemonium — including player characters — must make a Wisdom saving throw periodically, as called for by the DM. If the roll is a success, there's no immediate effect from the noise. If it is a failure, however, the character progresses one step along the four-stage path of "wind madness” described below. Beings dwelling on the plane are assumed to have progressed to stage four long ago.   Exactly when and how often saving throws should be made is up to the DM. Typically, one should be made each day, but particularly noisy regions of the plane may call for more frequent checks (perhaps even hourly ones), and relatively quiet ones may require no check at all. Shelter against the wind is also a factor. Time spent inside any sort of building should generally be free of Checks. Despite the fact that the howling wind may be heard outside, the walls provide a body with some sense of security. On the other hand, while cutters are asleep their subconscious is more vulnerable, so even in shelter they tend to have nightmares caused by the noise. Consequently, the DM may decide to call for a saving throw in the middle of the night. Most important, the DM should stage these saving throws at dramatically appropriate moments, like when characters first enter Pandemonium, or when the last foe falls at the end of a battle. Stage them to add to the drama, never to detract from it or interrupt something more important.   The madness resulting from Pandemonium’s noise follows a progressive course through four distinct phases. Scholars in Sigil like to classify these stages as:
1) frustration, 2) despair, 3) hysteria, and 4) resignation.
While those may seem mild terms to use, they actually do a fair job of describing the progress of the madness.   Note that barring a wish or use of a wish-like power, there's no permanent recovery from "wind madness" - only relief from the cause. In other words, a cutter's who progressed to stage two loses all symptoms upon leaving Pandemonium: but if she ever returns to the plane, she immediately reverts to stage two behaviour, no matter how much time has passed between visits.  

Stage 1: Frustration

In this Phase, cutters are consumed with vexation. They'll be snappish, continually iritated by the smallest things, and impatient to just get on with business (so as to get away from the plane and its noise). Bashers in this phase don't want to plan and talk things out; they just want to get a move on.   The DM should note that a litle bit of this goes a long way, so don't let it get out of hand. Be prepared to guide the players back on track if a few well-played irritable comments begin to degenerate into a verbal brawl.   “Frustrated" characters suffer a -1 modifier to Wisdom and Inelligence scroes while exposed to the wind’s noise.  

Stage 2: Despair

During this second phase, a berk feels completely hopeless. It seems as if nothing's going to relieve the continual noise, so what's the use of fighting it? Poor sods in this stagge won't ever do things on their own initiative. If they're with a group that's making plans, despairing souls just sit glumly, sighing, without getting involved in the discussion. If pressed, they'll agree to whatever's being said, but without any real enthusiasm, and without adding any substance to the talk. Once the group is up and moving, these characters follow along in an apathetic way. In a battle, however, they’ fight with real desperation — almost like berserkers. This is because while they seem hopeless on the outside, it's just denial of an inner turmoil. Deep inside, these berks are about ready to crack and slip over the edge into hysteria, the third phase.   "Despairing” characters are automatically surprised in combat, even if the rest of their group is not. But once they’re able to attack. They do so with a +1 bonus to both attack and damage rolls.  

Stage 3: Hysteria

When berks reach this third stage, they become absolutely desperate to get away from Pandemonium's noise. Immediately upon failing their saving throw, they'll begin running madly about, screaming for it all to end, threatening anyone who gets in their way, pleading to the gods for mercy, and so on. (This continues for a number of minutes equal to the amount by which the saving throw was missed.) Finally, they'll collapse exhausted, to sit rocking and muttering with hands pressed over their ears and eyes tightly closed. Depending upon their personality, some weep as they rock, while others grit their teeth and snart curses. If touched, they'll flinch, but they can be drawn to their feet and led along. But no matter what, they won't open their eyes or uncover their ears. Obviously, then, they cannot fight, cast spells, or do much anything else useful while suffering from hysteria.   If tzaken to shelter, these bashers come out of the hysteria and act as if at stage two while away from the noise. But upon leaving the shelter, they'll immediately slip back into hysteria. It should come as no surprise, then, that they'll be extremely reluctant to leave the sanctuary.   Obviously, hysteria is the most helpless stage a character can be in, and that can bve frustrating for players, The DM should be prepared to give them a lot of leeway in playing the role. It#s also a good idea to limit encounters while the character is helpless, and to adjust the pace of the adventure so that time spent in this stage passes quickly.  

Stage 4: Resignation

By this point, a berk has come partially to terms with the wind’s howling. Sods in this stage accept the noise as something ultimately inescapable (at least while they remain in Pandemonium), and have learned to ignore the anguish it causes them. Of course, ignoring the pain doesn't really make it go away. Instead, it manifests itself in some other manner: a nervous tic, a phobia, a mania, or some other such idiosyncrasy. Exactly what that idiosynerasy is depends upon the person.   Players whose characters reach this stage should invent a quirk for their heroes. Ideally, it should be one that matches the character's personality and experiences in some way, or that somehow enhances them. As a simple example, a paladin might compulsively clean her armor, taking it apart piece by piece at every camp to wipe and oil, and even unconsciously polishing and picking at it while on the march. Similarly, a thief might keep one hand in his purse at all times, counting and recounting his coins by touch; or he might jerk a glance nervously over one shoulder every couple of seconds, even while supposedly relaxed. Players can start with some such simple quirk, then change to something more distinctive later, should an idea strike them and the DM approves. The table below can serve as a starting point.

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Concerning NPC quirks, the DM should keep in mind that they tend to be much more severe than those for player characters. After all, most NPCs in Pandemonium have been here for a considerable length of time, and they aren't likely to be leaving soon. So it's only natural for the plane to have affected them more deeply whereas the player character paladin might unconsciously polish and pick at her armor while on the march, an NPC might actually claw at it, shouting "Dang bugs . . . dang bugs” every few sentences. And while the player character thief might jerk a glance over one shoulder, an NPC dwelling on Pandemonium might be always in motion, hopping around a person even while talking with him, dodging imaginary blows from all sides, spinning in complete circles to watch his back, and so forth.   Among veteran adventurers on the Outer Planes, these quirks of wind madness are viewed as something of a badge of honor, a mark of experience and survival They are never referred to directly; i’s considered as gauche to mention one to a cutter's face as it would be to say to a veteran warrior, "Hey, I notice you're missing half your left hand, and that you've got a big ugly scar running down that side of your face must've been in some real battles in your day, huh?” But old hands at adventuring in the Outer Planes are always happy to note the appearance of a tic, stammer, or other idiosyncrasy in a companion upon first entering Pandemonium. The quirk proves that the cutter has been to the plane before, and knows the dark of things here. (’Course, among the Clueless there's generally a moment of shock when they step into Pandemonium and discover that their hired guide, who seemed so knowledgeable and confident back in Sigil, is now evidencing a distinct twitch.)  

Everyman's Madness

It can be quite a job as a DM to find a new twitch for every character who suffers madness at the hands of Pandmonium's endless winds. To make the task a little easier, the following table provides suggested forms of insanity that are sometimes difficult but still playable. Other eccentrities may also work: ask the players for suggestions. Players who help choose their character's madness will enjoy role-playing it more.

Madness	Description
Accident Prone	Whoops.
Amnesia	I don't remember any of you.
"Animal Senses"	I can scent a flower in a hurricane. Hey, are we upwind or downwind?
Barking	Arf, arf, wrowr!
"Backpack Vortex"	I can't believe I lost it!
Compulsive Liar	Yeah, I'm the messenger you're looking for.
Conspiracy Nut	If you think about it, it's obvious that the factions are all smokescreen, and the bashers behind it all are the Clueless. It's gotta be the Clueless. No one could really be that stupid.
Contrariness	I refuse
Dancing Mania	Hey nonny nonny, hey a right round.
Delusion	I can fly, I tell you.
Fear of Blood	I think I am going to faint.
Fear of Disease	You don't know where that's been.
Fear of Heights	I can't go up there.
Fear of Magic	I'm not touching it. What if it explodes?
Fear of Noise	Shhh, I'm concentrating.
Fear of the Undead	They want to eat my brain!
Fear of Water	Bathing is dangerous, everyone knows that. What do you mean I smell?
Foreign Accent	I am zee prince of zee gypsies, you see.
Forgetful	What was that factols name again? You know, the one that hired us.
Fussy	A little to the left. No, wait, back.
Greedy	Mine, everything's mine!
Hallucinations	Don't you see that city? Right there, on the horizon.
Howling	Arf, arf, aooooooooooooooooooooo!
Hypochondriac	I'm sure I caught lycanthropy from that rat.
Jaded	Seen it, been there, done that. So what?
Kleptomania	I need that, I need it, gimme, need it.
Laughts Too Much	You Mercykillers are a funny bunch.
Melancholy	It's useöess, of course. Don't even bother.
Messiness	I've got that material component here somewhere.
Mistaken Identity	You don't recognize me? I'm the factol of the Sensates, you berk.
Multiple Personality	Yes, I'll do it. No I won't.
Mute
Narcolepsy	You'll have to wait until I get this blood of my armor.
Nerves	What's that? Did you hear something? I heard something.
No Sense of Direction	We're not lost. Don't panic.
Nudist	Armor is confining, so stiftling. I can't breathe.
Obsessive	We can't leave until we count it and sort it by type.
Pacing	If I can't move, I get angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Paranoia	They're out to get me.
Permanent Cynicism	You're the lord of the 7th layer of the Abyss? Sure you are.
Photomania	Turn that damn light off!
"Possessed"	He's in my brain: he's making me do it.
Pyromania	It's so dark, gotta light a fire, gotta get some light.
Quick Tempered	I don't have to take that from you. I don't have to put up with any of this.
Rabid Optimism	So it's a goristo, so what? We can take him.
Rabid Pessimism	That'll never work.
Racist	Githyanki, githzerai, you're both inferior.
Scratching	Arrggh! Right between the shoulder blades - can't reach!
Seizures
Sharpening	Needs a better edge, needs a better edge, needs a better edge.
Shaving Mania	Not now, I got to get rid of this stubble - and these eyebrows.
Stunned	Huh?
Talker	You know I think sometimes I just don't know when to be quiet, but a berk's gotta say what's on his mind, right? So anyway...
Verbal Tics	What I mean is, that is, what I mean is.
"Visions"	My deity has commanded me to tell you...
Xenophobia	I don't know him. What if he's evil?