Shadowfell

The Shadowfell is a plane of gloom and dim reflection. It exists parallel to the material world but is drained of color, warmth, and life. Where the material plane is full of motion and change, the Shadowfell is static, oppressive, and heavy with silence. Light does not behave normally here. It spreads thin, offering no comfort. Darkness clings to corners even in open spaces. Sound carries farther than it should, but it reaches the ear dulled, as if traveling through fog.   The landscape of the Shadowfell mirrors that of the material world but with distortion. Forests become skeletal groves of blackened trees. Rivers run slow and dark, with no reflection on their surfaces. Cities appear as crumbling shells, often empty or sparsely populated by twisted echoes of their material counterparts. Time feels suspended, not frozen, but slow and difficult to track. A traveler might wander for hours without realizing they have not moved far, or they may find that a short walk has taken them far from where they began.   Emotion is suppressed in this plane. Joy fades quickly. Memory becomes fragile. Grief lingers longer than it should. Prolonged exposure causes a kind of spiritual fatigue, not unlike a creeping illness. Those without strong purpose or willpower often lose their identity over time. This does not happen violently, but quietly, with the mind growing dull and the heart growing numb. Travelers are advised to anchor themselves with routines, symbols of home, or companions they trust.   Inhabitants of the Shadowfell are varied. Some are native to the plane, formed of shadowstuff and shaped by its energy. Others are lost souls, undead, or creatures who have adapted to the dim environment. Many of the beings found here avoid contact, while others view visitors as threats or prey. Intelligent shadow creatures may be cautious, curious, or hostile depending on the intruder’s behavior. Communication is possible, but it is rarely friendly and never casual.   Necromantic energy seeps through the Shadowfell. While not inherently evil, the plane provides a natural home for undeath. Spirits that cannot move on, or that have been bound by force or unfinished intent, often end up here. Some mortals come to the Shadowfell willingly, seeking forgotten knowledge, hidden places, or passage to other planes. Others arrive by accident, through weakened barriers or portals they did not mean to cross.   The Shadowfell has no known capital, no central authority, and no pantheon unique to its domain. However, many gods of death, fate, and transition maintain aspects of their power within it. They may keep shrines, wandering emissaries, or silent temples scattered through the plane. Worship here is quiet, and often personal. Rituals focus on remembrance, endurance, and acceptance of loss.   Portals to the Shadowfell often appear in places where death, grief, or despair have taken root. Cemeteries, abandoned battlefields, or lonely mountain passes are common thresholds. Rites of passage or magical errors can also open doorways. Once within, leaving is difficult. The plane does not trap through walls or chains, but through the slow wearing away of desire and identity. To leave, one must still want to.   Despite its nature, the Shadowfell is not entirely a place of suffering. It is still, quiet, and honest. There is no deception in its gloom. For some, it is a place of contemplation. For others, it is a prison. For all, it is a test of will.