Roiling Gloom of Limbo

Limbo is an inhospitably barren plane, a desolate expanse where the fabric of reality seems to unravel at the seams. Its terrain is perpetually shrouded in a veil of ethereal mist, blurring the boundaries between land and sky. Once, this realm was a restful place known as Purgatory, where wayward souls could seek atonement before passing into the great beyond. However, after the Syzygy cataclysmically and irreversibly altered the cosmos, the plane earned its more ominous title of “The Netherworld.” Now, it merely serves as a shadowy bridge between the Material Plane and its fell underworlds.

The very air of Limbo, uncomfortably stale but breathable, hums like the singer of a mournful dirge, teeming with the presence of ghosts, phantoms, and other liminal beings. Some are faithless souls that were left stranded between realms, their fate a sinister limbo of its own. Others, more malevolent in nature, choose to linger on in this realm, free to haunt and hunt without hindrance. Living in fragile harmony alongside these spectral denizens, there is also the shae, wispy creatures that resemble living shadows, and the eerie caligni, pallid humanoids with gaunt visages and milky white eyes.

Yet, it is the psychopomps who reign as the most renowned of Limbo’s inhabitants. This class of creatures function as the shepherds of mortal souls, patiently escorting them to their proper afterlives. They are sworn to protect the departed from harm, guiding them along the winding paths of the Nine Realms with a detached sense of duty. Beyond the presence of psychopomps, Limbo has an even greater spiritual importance; it overlaps with the Material Plane and the realm of Faerie to form a planar cluster, where mortals exist in a cycle of birth, death, and rebirth, which some sages call Samsara.

Somewhere within the shadows and mist, festering like a malevolent cyst, a place of unspeakable power can be found: The Sepulcher. It is the origin of all negative energy in the Nine Realms, a tower of black stone that pierces the veil of creation as it stretches into the sky, punching a hole into a void that can never be escaped. Guarding this accursed site are sadomasochistic fiends known as the velstrac, grotesque beings donned in chains and flayed skin who take pleasure in the pain of others. The Sepulcher’s presence casts a long shadow over Limbo, as it eagerly waits to consume unwary souls.