There's some souls that insist on "a place for everything, and everything in its place." Well, that attitude may be fine for an innkeeper or other such homebody. But an adventurer has to be able to adapt to changing situations, to use whatever comes to hand. And a true cutter actually thrives on that sort of life.
The Guvners like to point out that even chaotic Limbo is in its place on the Great Road, so it falls into a larger, ordered scheme of things. The plane of Limbo is a great testing ground for bashers to see if they're true cutters or not. Limbo tests a cutter's adaptability to the limit, because Limbo is change. Everything here is in a perpetual state of flux; even magic use is affected by the chaos. Adventurers who can survive and prosper under those conditions aren't the sort to retire to a cozy chair by the kitchen fire. No, they're the type that stay-at-home berks end up reciting legends about for ages to come.
GETTING TO LIMBO
Finding a way into Limbo is much like finding a way onto any other plane. Once they get here, most bashers are in for a bit of a shock. Even though Limbo's not one of the Lower Planes and doesn't have their malevolent touch of evil, it's still extremely hazardous. When berks enter Limbo unprepared, there's no telling what sort of terrain they'll arrive in. It can be nearly as dangerous as popping into an elemental plane, and it's even less predictable. For one thing, portals, vortices, and conduits into Limbo tend to open out in no particular place. Portals always fix on some sort of arch, of course, but Limbo's constantly bubbling up new arch shapes in its primal soup and dissolving current ones. And other entryways tend to jump from place to place as well. But even those that have a fixed location are often fixed on just another spot in Limbo's roiling chaos, which means that the conditions there typically change between a berk's visits, even during them. And even those entryways with a fixed destination in a stable, inhabited spot have a tendency to "misfire" from time to time and dump travelers far from their intended location - again, usually into Limbo's chaos. (Of course, as the PLANESCAPE Campaign Setting boxed set explains, exactly where these things can be found and where they lead to is best left in the hands of the DM, as a story element for each particular adventure.)
The one exception to all this unpredictability is the gate between Limbo and the
Outlands, located at the town of Xaos. It's always there, and it always works. But as the town's ultra-chaotic nature indicates, the Limbo side of that gate is one of the most turbulent spots in the plane. A basher's gotta be really prepared before stepping through it.
PHYSICAL CONDITIONS
Limbo's basically a big, churning stew of creation, in which earth changes to air changes to water changes to fire, with no fixed duration, no apparent pattern. Most berks who haven't been there find it difficult to even imagine. That's because they're afraid of the concept of total chaos. They assume there has to be someplace to stand, something to breathe, some way to see. Then they try to build up an image of the rest of the plane from those assumptions. Usually they end up picturing a sort of underwater universe with "chunks" of air, fire, and rock swirling around in it. Other sods imagine a vast airy space with pieces of rock, water, and fire. Then they visualize those bits changing to other elements now and again, and they think they've got Limbo. As usual, they're completely wrong.
A better way to start is with a mental exercise. First, imagine being a free-floating mind, without physical needs. Now, in that free state, picture being inside a good, thick stew. There's a dense sort of broth that's a mixture of meat juices, potato starch, dissolved peas and carrots, and whatnot. As the mixture boils, bubbles of air pass through it, dissolving a bit into the surrounding broth, making it frothy. And chunks of partially dissolved meat and vegetables dance around inside the stew as well.
Limbo's like that. If a berk thinks of earth instead of meat, and fire instead of vegetables, and if he considers that there's no natural gravity, no universal up and down, he's beginning to get the idea. The basic nature of the plane is sort of a broth composed equally of all the elements, and there's chunks of purer form swirling around inside. Now add one more ingredient to the picture. Bits of the broth are constantly changing to make new chunks of purer elements, and those chunks are constantly dissolving back into broth. Sometimes they'll switch from element to broth to another element so quickly it seems as if a fire turns directly to water, or earth directly to air.
How big are the chunks? Well, they're all sizes, from tiny as a grain of sand to huge as a continent. And in lots of places there are more chunks than broth. How pure are they? Some are nearly as pure as could be found on the Inner Planes. Others are combinations of things, often quite complex. Some are even like pieces of terrain from other planes. There's bits that look like they came from a prime world, complete with grass, bushes, trees, and other terrain, not to mention an envelope of breathable air and normal gravity to keep everything in place. And there's others that look like castles from the Elemental Plane of Fire, or undersea coral reefs, or lofty mountaintops, or whatever else a cutter can imagine.
That touches upon another important point about Limbo. While bits of terrain like the things just described arise spontaneously, there is no permanency to them - they dissolve just as spontaneously. Sometimes they last a minute, sometimes a month - sometimes more, sometimes less - but they always dissipate eventually. But Limbo's primal matter is extremely yielding to sentient thought. By focusing their thoughts, conscious beings can shape the matter around them into whatever terrain they will. And as long as they concentrate on it, it remains in that form, providing them with a safe spot to stand and breathe instead of floating, weightless and breathless in the primal soup. Old hands at planar travel are familiar with the dark of this and come prepared to deal with it. But the Clueless usually suffer from their ignorance. They step through a portal and land in Limbo's chaos, then panic and flounder about. Some poor sods actually die from chaos exposure before they can discover how to mold the local environment to something livable.
Now, most souls wouldn't find it too surprising that the gods can shape Limbo to their will. After all, they're powers. They don't even have to concentrate to maintain it that way. What's more, their realms stay whole even when they leave for a while to go gallivanting through the Prime Material, or wherever.
But the powers aren't the only ones with permanent domains. There are mortals maintaining entire cities on the plane too. Mainly they're githzerai, who have adopted Limbo as their native home. There are also a few towns belonging to all other sorts of intelligent races. Some of them are maintained by special watchmen who take turns concentrating on their existence. But in others - usually the larger cities - there are some individuals who can maintain terrain without consciously thinking about it. They're known as anarchs, and obviously they're highly prized by their neighbors.
For a cutter with the ability, then, Limbo can be shaped to something downright comfortable. So, if that's the case, why isn't the plane one huge resort area? Well, things are never quite as simple as they seem. Sure, a body can make a personal paradise in Limbo, but keeping it's a different matter. See, just like most every place else in the universe, Limbo has its share of monsters and raiders. And given that they're native to the plane, they're highly adaptable, and consequently very difficult to stamp out. Nevertheless, berks come here all the time to try.
STEPPING INTO CHAOS
Now, keep in mind that the phrase "Limbo's roiling chaos" actually covers a lot of different terrain. So at one time, an entryway's end could be surrounded by a huge ball of fire, at another it might dump a sod inside a veritable mountain of stone, and so on. Obviously, some types of Limbo's terrain are more dangerous than others. Remember, too, they're prone to change unexpectedly, so a basher might get fried a bit, drowned a bit, and then buried alive for a while before gaining control of the surroundings. Relaxing enough to control the environment under those conditions can be difficult, to say the least.
Whenever characters are dumped unexpectedly into an uncontrolled hostile environment in Limbo, the DM should have them all make Wisdom checks each round to reshape the environment. Once someone succeeds, no further checks are necessary. That character gains control of the environment and shapes it into a safe zone. (If more than one person succeeds on the same round, control goes to the one with the highest Intelligence score. In case of a tie, compare Wisdom scores to break it, with the highest winning.) Characters are subject to any damaging effects of the environment until they gain control of it. Of course, the DM is free to choose any of the following backgrounds for Limbo, including a temporarily nonhostile one (in case the characters are having too much trouble).
PRIMAL SOUP
Landing in the midst of the "primal soup" of unformed chaos is dangerous in a couple of different ways. First, a berk can't breathe it, so there's the danger of suffocation. Fortunately, magic intended for underwater breathing does work on unformed chaos. As a matter of fact, normal duration for such spells is doubled, because Limbo's primal matter is more easily turned to air than normal water is. Second, exposure to the unformed matter of Limbo erodes a sod's own physical form, doing Id6 of damage per turn of exposure. Protection from lightning is an effective defense against this effect.
SOLID EARTH
Ever wondered what it would be like to be buried alive? Sometimes visitors to Limbo get a chance to find out. Some poor sods have stepped through a portal or conduit into Limbo and wound up in an area of solid granite, or soil, or sandstone. Their biggest worry is suffocation, of course, unless they have an airy earth spell handy or can change the earth pocket to more healthy terrain in a hurry.
FIRE POCKET
This is a really unpleasant surprise to land in upon entering Limbo. It's not as bad as the Elemental Plane of Fire, but it still burns, and a berk can't breathe it without a fire breathing spell or similar magic.
Some pockets of fire burn more severely than Others. Most range somewhere between Id6 to 10d6points of damage per round, though some may be even hotter. Characters caught in a fire pocket are completely surrounded by flame, so they get no saving throws to reduce the damage.
Keep in mind that breathing in a fire bubble is certainly a problem, to say the least. Berks who try to do so without some sort of magic to help them out suffer double the location's normal damage rating. (Nasal passages, throat, and lungs are painful when scorched!) That's something they'll only ever try once. Trouble is, berks who don't breathe begin to suffocate.
WATER BUBBLE
Stepping through a portal, conduit, or whatever into a bubble of water is basically like falling unexpectedly into a lake. It's certain that enough cutters have done that at one time or another during an adventure that they at least know enough to hold their breath. Problem is, there's no surface to swim to, so a soul needs to keep from breathing long enough for the terrain to change into something more hospitable.
Just like a fire pocket, a water bubble can vary widely in temperature. Some poor sods have found themselves boiling inside one; others have been virtually frozen. The DM might want to impose some damage to characters to represent such temperature variations. A reasonable damage rating would be from 1d6 to 6d6 per round.
AIR POCKET
These aren't usually dangerous or unpleasant, though they can be a bit unsettling to the novice planar traveler. There's air to breathe (though its quality might vary from clear, to misty, to dusty, to hot and dry). Temperature may vary, but it's unlikely to be so hot or so cold that it actually does any damage, and clothing helps to insulate a cutter from the effects for a few moments, anyway.
What's weirdest is the sensation of floating. Most bashers automatically tense up like a flying cat when they find themselves in an air pocket, expecting to fall. But there's no place to fall to. A body just hangs there in place. That makes an air pocket a mighty comfortable place to sleep, if the air is still and doesn't bang cutters together.
MIXED ELEMENTS
This is a catch-all term for a whole lot of different things. It could be fire and air mixed (like the inside of an oven depending upon the temperature, a basher might at least be able to breathe. Then sometimes it's mud. Other times, it might be air with a bunch of floating rocks. (There's one tale of a berk who entered Limbo and wound up hanging in an air pocket with his head encased in a boulder. Eventually he gained control of the situation and concentrated till the rock turned to air.) Yet other times, it might be air and water swirled together, or - stranger yet - water and fire. It might be a meadow, complete with trees and grass, or a dark cavern with a pool. As a matter of fact, it could be any kind of thing that doesn't require intelligence to design it. That is, it has to be something natural, not artificial. Within those parameters, though, the possibilities are endless.
Each of these mixed element terrain types imposes its own troubles on a basher, even the most innocuous examples. In their case, the trouble is that they look normal, fooling the ignorant into relaxing. But they could erode at any moment, and a clueless berk isn't likely to realize that until after it's happened. For the other mixed element examples, their problems can be extrapolated from the headings above.
DOMAIN
Occasionally, a basher entering Limbo actually sets down in an area that some intelligent being has imposed its will on and made stable. Usually these domains are cities of the githzerai, just because there are more of them than any other type. But sometimes a cutter ends up in some other city, or in the realm of some power.
Now, just because a traveler winds up in a domain, that doesn't necessarily mean that it was actually the one the cutter was headed for. Remember, Limbo's portal outlets and conduits like to hop around, so a body might wind up in a completely different domain from what was intended. But at least a domain is steady enough for a cutter to catch her breath. Getting to the intended destination can be sorted out from there - after dealing with the locals, of course.
TRAVELLING WITHIN LIMBO
It shouldn't come as any great surprise that getting about from domain to domain in Limbo is a bit troublesome. What with everything boiling around in this vast stew, a basher's destination doesn't stay fixed like on most planes. It tumbles through the primal chaos, sometimes coming closer and sometimes moving farther away. What's worse, cutters can't peer through the primal soup to spot their intended destination and keep track of it. Constant motion and lack of visibility mean that bashers can't plot a route by landmarks either. Next, even if travelers could see where they're going in the distance, there's still the problem of crossing the intervening space.
Given these problems, how does a basher get about? Well, there are a few possible answers to that question.
PORTAL
One way of getting from location to location within Limbo is for cutters to use a portal to Sigil, then another back to their destination. It sounds like a simple procedure, but there are a couple of troubles to it. First, the Limbo end of Sigil's portals is usually unstable. Unless an anarch specifically fixes one in place, it'll wander all over the plane, latching onto archways willy nilly. Second, as anyone but clueless berks can testify, a trip across Sigil is an adventure in itself. So this method isn't used a lot, except by those souls with the clout to hold portals for their own use and keep them fixed in Limbo.
CONDUITS
Limbo has lots of conduits, perhaps more than any other plane. New ones are constantly appearing and old ones disappearing in the boiling of Limbo's primal matter. This means that it's fairly easy to find a conduit at any particular time. But as always, there's a catch. The problem with Limbo's conduits is that, like its portals, they're constantly moving about, so the one a basher used this morning to step from a githzerai fortress to a friendly power's realm may lead back to a totally different spot this afternoon, perhaps into the primal soup. Worse yet, it might even pop a berk through to the 37th level of the Abyss!
The moral is, when using conduits in Limbo, a berk had better "Look before he leaps."
PATHS
Unlike most other planes, Limbo's too changeable to have many regular pathways from place to place. There's a few spots, how ever, where the plane's primal matter swirls in vast whirlpools that reach distant parts of the plane. Apparently, these whirlpools are some sort of focus points for Limbo's flux, because the slaadi say that most have been in existence from time immemorial. It's a rare event for a new one to come into existence or an old one to pass away.
The Guvners like to argue over whether these whirlpool pathways reach separate layers of the plane, or whether Limbo is just all one big confusing layer. On the one hand, they are planar pathways, which would suggest that they lead to other layers, and historically, scholars have labeled five different layers for the plane, based on major realms it possesses. On the other hand, at different times Limbo's various towns and realms can be found on the far end of different whirlpools, which means that if there are different layers, these areas of habitation don't pay them any mind.
What's most important to a cutter is that the whirlpools can serve as a means of travel through the plane. The slaadi use them regularly to shorten the distance from one spot to another. Adventurers can do the same, if they can just figure out where they lead to.
ASTRAL TRAVEL
As every cutter with any experience knows, a body can use the Astral Plane for quick travel among the Outer Planes - given the right spell or ability to access it - but the Astral only contacts the upper layer of each plane. The uncertain nature of Limbo's layers makes astral travel guesswork, however. Sometimes astral traveling bashers can get to anyplace they wish on Limbo. Other times no destination they wish for seems available. Is it that the desired locales are rising and sinking through planar layers? Or does Limbo only contact the Astral sporadically? Nobody knows. The only thing certain is that sometimes bashers can get where they want, and other times they can't.
SPELLS
One of the best, and most popular, methods of travel within Limbo is the use of a teleport without error spell. As long as a cutter begins on the plane of Limbo, that's considered home plane for purposes of the spell. The only danger involved is that magic cast in Limbo's chaotic environment can get out of control (as explained later).
The basic teleport spell can be used instead, but it's more dangerous. If the spell succeeds and the caster rolls "On Target," there's no problem. A "High" roll means the caster ends up at some completely different location (DM's choice). A "Low" result means the caster is teleported directly to the nearest hazardous locale. That could be anything from the center of a skirmish between slaadi and githzerai to an erupting volcano.
Plant door and transport via plants are even more useful, at least for travel to familiar places. In fact, there's no need to worry about finding a plant type to match one at the destination. A caster who knows the plants at the target point can have an associate imagine one into being from Limbo's broth at the point of departure. (Casters can't do this themselves, because they can't cast the spell while concentrating to maintain the proper terrain.) One really good thing about these is that as priest spells, they're not affected by Limbo's chaos.
"Overland"
When all else fails, cutters can always just set out across Limbo's "countryside" in what they perceive to be the direction of their goal. As they travel, they'll have to extend their bubble of controlled terrain to the front, letting it erode away behind them.
The good thing about this mode of travel is that the terrain traveled is generated by the cutters' imaginations, so it can be level, smooth, and pleasant going all the way.
There's a couple of problems with this, though. For one, Limbo's an infinite plane like any of the others, so this sort of travel can be extremely time consuming. Magic that allows flying, or really swift steeds, can help a lot. Slaadi and anarchs can even swim the primal soup, without suffocating or dissolving away.
But most berks don't have that option. They have to maintain terrain about them. Unfortunately, they also have to sleep sometime, and they can't concentrate on maintaining the terrain while they do. This makes the job of camp guard extremely important, so sleeping companions don't wind up smothering in primal chaos.
Finally, no matter how pleasant the landscape, a cutter has no control over encounters. Limbo's crawling with slaadi and other native beasties, and they'll overrun a basher's pathway given half a chance.
Considering all this, it's no wonder that most travelers use some other method rather than the "overland" approach
GUIDONS
For many of these travel types, it's necessary to recognize the destination from far away. How's a basher to find the direction through the Astral Plane without perceiving the final locale, for instance?
That's what guidons are all about. Most every burg a cutter could want to travel to has a magical obelisk in the center of town, maintained by an anarch just for centering travelers. These guidons resonate to the locate object spell regardless of range, each with its own particular magical vibration. So cutters can cast the spell and use it as a guide on a sidestep jaunt through the Astral Plane. Or they can cast it, then peer down the mouth of nearby conduits till they find one headed their way. Or they can cast it and launch out cross-country through the plane, if that's their desire.
Some locales even sell trinkets with locate object cast permanently upon them, to serve as guidon compasses. But be warned, these items sometimes malfunction when deep in the soup (5% chance per day, not cumulative), leading their owners astray for a while before locking back on target.
Adventuring parties should keep in mind that one of the worst things that can happen to them is losing their wizard, priest, or guidon compass while out in the soup. It can be hellaciously hard for nonmagic-using types to find a way back to inhabited locales.
CONTROLLING LIMBO
Obviously, Limbo can be downright dangerous for berks who aren't prepared for its chaos. But its elemental stew responds to a cutter's will, allowing bashers to create safe pockets around themselves. Just how much it Responds depends upon the individual. Addle-coves and leatherheaded fools can only maintain a few square yards of the simplest types of terrain, barely enough to set up camp and rest in. But powerful anarchs are able to maintain entire cities, and that without even devoting their full attention to the task.
The chart below shows what type of terrain and how much of it a basher can maintain by concentrating on the task, based - in this case - on the character's Intelligence score. While concentrating to maintain terrain in this way, berks can't cast spells, make attacks, or use proficiencies, and they lose any Dexterity bonus to Armor Class. About all they can do is walk and talk (but they won't be great conversationalists). Anarchs are the exception, of course, as explained in a moment.
| Attribute Rating |
Radius of Terrain |
Type of Terrain |
| 0 |
none |
none |
| 1-4 |
10 feet per attribute point (flat meadow) |
simple |
| 5-10 |
10 yards per attribute point (hills, trees, streams) |
complex |
| 11-18 |
100 yards per attribute point (buildings, streets) |
artificial |
| 19+ |
1 mile per attribute point (complex buildings) |
includes native animals |
Intelligence for conscious maintenance, Wisdom for unconscious maintenance by trained anarchs.
MINIFLUX
Now, from what's been explained so far, it might seem as if hanging around in a stabilized area of Limbo would solve all a basher's problems concerning chaos. But that just ain't the dark of things. Even the best and brightest of anarchs can't keep track of every little detail. And though many of the powers might be able to, they don't want to impose their will over absolutely every object within their purview. After all, this is the Chaos side of the Great Road, and individualism is in high regard here. If a power or a master anarch was to keep track of every item owned by every soul in the terrain, it would be too much like Mechanus - there'd
be no mystery to life.
So even Limbo's stablest regions are subject to a phenomenon usually referred to as miniflux. Basically, what miniflux means is that even in stable areas, little things tend to get forgotten and fall prey to chaos, either dissolving away or changing to something else entirely. So a cutter's possessions are That cutter's responsibility to maintain. 'Course, in this Case, maintain doesn't mean just keep well oiled and in good repair; it means keep in existence. Here's a case where even non-anarchs use their subconscious powers. Luckily, a body doesn't have to concentrate on keeping normal possessions intact. For most cutters, their sword or spellbook is so much an extension of their own selfimage that it's always in the back of their mind, so it's automatically maintained. Clothes being worn are the same way.
What's a problem is all the little extraneous items a basher doesn't think about very often. For example, how often do people actually think of the coil of rope they stashed in their backpack at journey's beginning, or the material components they've packed for a rarely used spell? In Limbo, by the time they recall it, it may have changed to something else entirely. To represent this, any time a character decides to use an item that hasn't been used for some time, the DM may choose to have the character make a Wisdom check against miniflux.
For souls who dwell on the plane, miniflux can be really troublesome when it comes to items around the house. While a body's away tending business for a few hours, the dining room table might turn to chalk, the bedroom cushions to mushrooms, and the keg of ale in the kitchen to dust - or worse, fire.
MAGICAL CONDITIONS
It doesn't take a bloody genius to foretell that as unpredictable as Limbo is, spellcasting there must be chaotic. This is especially true of spells cast within the primal soup, where the environment is usually changing even as a spell is being cast. Solid terrain maintained by a conscious mind provides a somewhat more stable platform for magic use, but even there spells frequently break loose from a cutter's control.
As a result, there's a general rule that applies to all spellcasting by wizards on the plane. In order to cast a spell of any school anywhere within the plane of Limbo, a wizard first has to make a test of his Intelligence attribute. If the roll is failed, the spell is spent (lost from memory the chaotic nature of the plane has prevented the spell's effect from taking place. The poor sod of a wizard just stands there looking sheepish. In addition, if the failed spell was being cast within the primal soup of chaos, a wild surge automatically occurs. If, instead, it was being cast on stable terrain, the failed spell causes a wild surge only on a natural roll of 20; otherwise the spell simply has no effect.
Other special conditions vary by school, as follow.
TRANSMUTATION
Casting alteration school spells on Limbo can be incredibly dangerous! Because conditions are so fluid on the plane, the final product of the alteration may be far from what the caster intended. There have been cases of berks trying to polymorph an attacking slaad into a newt, for instance, and getting a green dragon instead!
Whenever a character in Limbo attempts a spell That calls matter into being or changes its shape or form, if the spell goes off successfully (the Intelligence test above is passed), roll percentile dice and consult the following table to determine the result. Add the spell's level to the roll, but subtract the caster's experience level. (Modest spells cast by experts are somewhat safer than a tyro's toughest spells.)
| % ROLL |
EFFECT |
| <20 |
No special effect |
| 21-40 |
Slightly modified appearance |
| 41-60 |
Slightly modified appearance and properties |
| 61-80 |
Moderately modified appearance and properties |
| 81+ |
Highly modified appearance and properties |
The exact result in each case is left to the DM's invention, but let the spellcaster's intention be a guide to the final result. Imagine that as the caster struggles to control the spell, his subconscious mind provides an alternate shape somehow related to the intended one. In the example above, for instance, a dragon and a newt are both reptiles. With that in mind:
- A slightly modified appearance means that the spell functions as intended; its effect merely looks a bit strange. Continual light might have an unexpected tint to it, for example. Slightly modified appearance and properties means the spell effect functions mainly as intended, though there are some minor variances. A wizard undergoing Tenser's transformation might actually appear troll-like and grow claws, adding one point to any damage done by hand attacks; or darkness, 15-foot radius might feel wet and be difficult to breathe.
- Moderately modified appearance and properties means the spell effect has some marked differences from what is expected. For example, stone to flesh might actually turn stone to cactus.
- Highly modified appearance and properties means the spell runs wild, often playing upon the caster's secret fears. DM fiendishness is encouraged in devising the specific results.
CONJURATION
The powers here tend to respond to wish and limited wish very frivolously. Souls casting those spells on Limbo are really taking their chances.
Sometimes wizards who've lost a familiar come to Limbo to seek a new one with the find familiar spell. It's not the sort of thing most low-level casters are up to, what with the difficulty of traveling to the plane in the first place and the inherent dangers once a basher gets there, let alone the chance of the spell just dissipating into chaos. But assuming the spell goes off successfully, the caster is very likely to have a choice of more than one familiar to choose from, assuming she can reach it in time.
When the spell is cast, the wizard senses the presence of Id4 possible familiars, each rolled normally from the table given in the find familiar spell's description. But treat any result of "No familiar available . . ." as a special familiar instead. Exactly what sort of special familiar is sensed is left to the DM to determine. Examples could range from such things as an exceptionally large, tough, and intelligent version of a normal familiar, to a huge insect (1 to 2 feet in length, or so), to a highly magical creature such as a young faerie dragon, a pseudodragon, a killmoulis, a sprite (especially an atomie or sea sprite), or a mephit. The DM should keep in mind that, for possible familiars of greater than animal intelligence, alignment should have a strong chaotic or neutral aspect. Creatures with lawful aspects are very rare in Limbo (though any that are encountered will likely be very glad to become a familiar, if it means being transported from the plane).
Due to Limbo's nature, potential familiars usually cannot come to the caster (unless the DM rules otherwise, based on the caster's current location). Rather, the caster must choose one of them and proceed toward it. The first creature rolled is the closest, 1-6 hours of travel away at walking speed. If there is a second, it is 2-12 hours away, the third 3-18 hours away, and so on. The wizard must choose which creature to travel toward; the others are immediately lost from the spell. The caster then begins walking toward the chosen creature, continuing to chant and keeping the brazier used in the spell burning. If the wizard reaches the chosen creature before the end of the casting time (which the DM rolls secretly), it becomes her familiar. Otherwise no familiar is gained.
DIVINATION
As ought to be expected by any berk with any understanding of Limbo at all, divinations are really difficult on this plane. Besides the normal problems of casting spells in general, the plane's tumultuous nature interferes with the reading of these spells' portents. The caster makes a saving throw versus paralyzation. If the saving throw is failed, the spell's results are so chaotic that the caster gains no information.
ILLUSION/PHANTASM
Now, it's true that raw chaos matter is so anarchic that it often disrupts the magical forces of spells. But it's also true that once a spell is actually underway, chaos matter is malleable enough that it often follows the spell's form, extending the magical effect. In the case of the Illusion/Phantasm school, this means that things that aren't normally real have a chance of becoming real. So each time a cutter on Limbo casts a spell from this school, there is a lO°/o chance of the effect becoming fully, permanently real. (Well, at least as permanent as anything can be on Limbo.)
WILD MAGIC
Remember that spells of all schools have a chance of causing a wild surge in Limbo, if the caster rolls a natural 20 on an Intelligence test (also causing the spell to fail). Besides this chance, use of spells from the wild magic school also incurs a chance of a wild surge accompanying a successful spell (the wizard passed the Intelligence test above). If a wild magic spell is successfully cast within stable terrain, roll for level variation as per page 6 of the Tome of Magic. But because of Limbo's enhanced wildness, if a wild magic spell is cast within the soup of chaos, roll twice for level variation and apply the more extreme of the two results. For example, if a +1 and a -2 were rolled, the -2 result would apply. (If the results are equally extreme, use Id6 to choose randomly between them.) However, if either of the results indicates a wild surge, a wild surge occurs. Remember, this chance for a wild surge accompanying a successful wild magic spell is in addition to the chance for a wild surge following a failed Intelligence test for spellcasting in Limbo.
Wild magic cast within the soup always sparks a wild surge, regardless of whether or not the caster passed an Intelligence test. In other words, only an addle-cove of a wild mage comes to Limbo!
ELEMENTAL
Scholars scratch their heads and mumble when asked why Limbo is so elemental in its nature. See, Limbo's an Outer Plane, and the elemental planes are Inner Planes, so it's strange that Limbo would act so much like a mixture of raw earth, air, fire, and water. 'Course, scholars scratch their heads and mumble when asked why any of the Outer Planes have any sort of elements, rather than being mostly immaterial, like the Astral Plane.
But whatever the reason, Limbo seems very elemental. And because of that, spells of the elemental school - if they don't just fizzle (because the caster failed an Intelligence check) - are quite a bit more powerful here than elsewhere in creation. In each case, the duration and area of effect of the spell is doubled. If the spell is normally instantaneous, it lasts for 1-6 rounds. If its area of effect is normally one target, it affects an area 1-10 feet in radius.
It's extremely important to keep in mind too that elementals conjured on this plane are exceptionally difficult to control. Because their nature is that of this most chaotic of planes, they interpret their conjurer's instructions as loosely as possible. And to make matters worse, their attention span is extremely short, which prevents a conjurer from giving them directions with all the "loopholes" covered. So a mage who conjures an elemental on Limbo is either very desperate or a total addle-cove.
Spellcasting in Limbo Table
| CONDITIONS |
STABLE TERRAIN |
SOUP |
| All spells (except wild magic):
Intelligence test passed. |
Spell succeeds. |
Spell succeeds. |
| All spells (except wild magic):
Intelligence test failed. |
Spell fails.
On a roll of 20, a wild surge occurs |
Spell fails.
Wild surge occurs. |
| Wild magic:
Intelligence test passed. |
Spell succeeds.
Roll twice on the level variation chart and apply the more extreme result.
If either roll indicates a wild surge, the surge occurs. |
Spell succeeds.
Wild surge occurs anyway |
| Wild Magic:
Intelligence test failed |
Spell fails.
Wild surge occurs. |
Spell fails.
Wild surge occurs. |
SPELL KEYS
Spell keys on Limbo are typically used to avoid the chance of a spell dissipating, and possibly resulting in a wild surge, the primary problem with spellcasting on the plane. (In other words, most spell keys just mean a basher doesn't have to make an Intelligence check to make a spell go off right.) 'Course, some can be used to circumvent other problems, such as the difficulty involved in summoning things from the Inner Planes.
Keys here fall into two categories. The first involves the essence of change, the second the essence of balance. Keys involving change are most useful for spells of the schools of Alteration, Enchantment/Charm, and Illusion/Phantasm. Those involving balance typically apply to spells of the Abjuration, Conjuration/ Summoning, and Invocation/Evocation schools.
One example of a changeable key is a blown smoke ring. As it moves away from the person who created it, it grows both larger and more tenuous, finally to fade away completely. A pinch of salt dissolving in a few drops of water is another example. Purists like to point out that in each case, the key isn't the physical components themselves, but rather the change they go through. So the spell for which the key is intended must be cast as the key is changing. But despite that overly fine distinction, the physical components are still consumed in the casting.
Examples of balance-related spells keys include such things as a spinning coin or an ornamental dagger poised on a fingertip. For more powerful keys, an element of risked destruction can be helpful, as in holding an egg or fragile glass sphere aloft, balanced on the tip of a staff.
Unlike most other planes, spell keys are a matter of constant change on Limbo. There's no way of noting down what worked one time, passing the trick along to someone else, and expecting it to work again later. It won't even work twice the same way for the same caster! So using spell keys on Limbo is an issue of insight at the time and place a spell is being cast. To represent this, the DM should call for a spellcraft proficiency roll. If that roll is successful, the caster is able to recognize what sort of thing would be appropriate to serve as a key at the moment. Then, of course, an effort of will can bring the key component or components into existence from the background chaos matter of Limbo (in other words, make a Wisdom attribute test to create it). Obviously, all this ruminating and calling key components into being takes a bit of time and trouble. So a cutter's got to decide whether or not to take the trouble, depending upon the situation at the time.
Because use of spell keys on Limbo isn't as cut and dried an issue as elsewhere, and because it can become a bit involved, the DM and players should use it as an opportunity for adding some flavor to their storytelling and role-playing. In other words, the purpose of these rules isn't merely to add complication to the mechanics of magic use; rather it's to convey the unusual nature of Limbo, with an eye toward making adventures more exciting.
POWER KEYS
Compared to powers elsewhere, those in Limbo are fairly open-handed in the awarding of power keys to their priests. That doesn't mean that they give them out to just anybody, but they take a slightly different approach to deciding who deserves one. See, rather than test their priests for ages before doling out a key to those that prove faithful, these powers are more apt to give out a key, then watch to see how a priest uses it. In other words, the award becomes the test. Priests who prove faithful get to keep their key; the others lose theirs just when they're needing it most. Then again, sometimes Limbo's powers negate a key out of sheer capriciousness. But any berk who can't handle the uncertainty shouldn't be serving a Chaos power in the first place.
Spheres that these powers most often give out keys for include Charm, Creation, and Elemental. Fenmarel Mestarine makes a slight exception: He's more apt to give out Weather keys rather than Elemental ones.
LIMBO'S INHABITANTS
There are two primary races dwelling on Limbo, the slaadi and the githzerai. The slaadi have apparently been here forever. The githzerai adopted the plane as their own at some time in the distant past, so long ago that they are effectively natives. Primes have some knowledge of these two races, but they make the mistake of thinking them the only dwellers in Limbo. What they don't realize is that Limbo is surprisingly well populated by the sorts of beings they're used to thinking of as their neighbors: humans, elves, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and such, as well as ores, goblins, trolls, and their ilk. Limbo is as well populated, in fact, as any of the Outer Planes, including the Outlands. It's just that the nature of the environment tends to make the inhabitants a bit more insular than elsewhere. 'Course, a cutter traveling through Limbo is also fairly likely to encounter a Chaosman or two. They come here in droves to let the spirit of randomness soak into them.
THE POWERS
Besides those powers who make their home on this plane because its chaotic nature matches their own, Limbo also hosts a number of powers with highly elemental spheres of ability. Apparently, they choose Limbo rather than an Inner Plane as their home because Limbo isn't so single-minded in its elemental nature. Powers who have chosen Limbo as their home plane include Agni, Vayu, and Indra of the Indian pantheon, Shina-Tsu-Hiko and Susanoo of Japan, Fenmarel Mestarine of the Seldarine, and
Tempus. Rumors persist of slaadi deities named Ssendam and Ygorl, but the slaadi have devoured all investigators.
THE PROXIES
The powers of Limbo don't seem to care too much what happens outside their specific realms. On the rare occasions that they feel the need to send a proxy, one's chosen at random from among that power's petitioners.
THE PETITIONERS
Various legends repeated among the Clueless claim that spirits that end up in Limbo are just swept up into the background chaos. Sometimes, those legends say, a bunch of that spiritual energy collects together and gives rise to a chaos elemental. Chaos elementals are supposedly these vaguely humanoid lumps sprouting all sorts of tentacles, horns, trunks, hooves, claws, and whatnot.
Sure they are. As usual, the Clueless have taken a smidgen of truth and fabricated so much of a story around it that the final product bears no resemblance to the original.
In the case of Limbo's petitioners, the reality is far stranger than the fiction. Each petitioner on Limbo is an individual being, with its own personality, and usually its own distinctive features. The problem is that those features can be extremely difficult for a normal person to pick out. As a matter of fact, normal people often have difficulty even recognizing that a petitioner is present. That's because Limbo's petitioners are as chaotic as they come (not surprisingly). They don't have any one particular natural form; rather, they're each a Living, thinking, clump of primal chaos matter. But whereas chaos matter often remains in an indeterminate state, Limbo's petitioners are always manifesting themselves as something specific - a pillar of flame, a misty whirl of air, a dashing wave of water, a column of rock, or some mix of these things. They just don't remain in any one form for long. In fact, they change forms unconsciously, as fast as their moods change. And their moods change mercurially.
Sometimes a petitioner can be persuaded to help a body who's in trouble. They have a real fascination with stories, especially those with lots of action, and they're willing to pay for a good one by providing some service to the teller. Or, if a basher can convince a petitioner that there's a really good story to be learned in the adventure he's currently involved in, a petitioner may come along just to watch it unfold. If the basher's lucky, the petitioner might even chip in with a helping hand on occasion, just to coax the story along. But don't count on it. The real trouble to all this "story for a service" practice is that Limbo's petitioners are so frivolous they're likely to get distracted by something else without a moment's notice and forget about the deal they've made. A basher has to be very careful to hold their attention if he wants them to hang around. It can be as frustrating as trying to herd chickens.
Now, about those tentacled and horned beasties - well, they exist, but they ain't petitioners. They're chaos beasts, and a berk'd be a complete leatherhead to think she could fight one of them!
OTHER ENCOUNTERS
Over the ages, lots and lots of humanoid beings have found their way to Limbo. Many of them stayed there; some even survived. As they learned to come to terms with the chaotic environment, and to fight off periodic attacks by the ferocious slaadi, they began to establish strongholds and settlements on the plane.
In some cases, these settlements began with a fairly cosmopolitan nature, as members of widely differing races encountered one another in the primal soup and banded together for mutual defense, against the slaadi in particular. There are, in fact, cities in Limbo that count among their citizens ores as well as elves, goblins as well as dwarves, besides humans and halflings, for example. In such cases, the alliances that keep the city functioning are uneasy at best, their only real unifying factor being the fear of slaadi hordes. When slaadi raids are few and far between, the citizens often begin warring among themselves. 'Course, not all these cities are so schizophrenically mixed. There are examples of elven/human cities, elven/halfling ones, human/dwarf towns, and so on, going about their business in relative peace and tranquility — barring slaadi raids.
In other cases, settlements began as a single extended family, then grew from there into a full-sized town. These communities tend to be very clannish in nature, with a strong distrust or even hatred of all outsiders. (This is especially true of purely ore or goblin strongholds, of course.) In some cases, settlements such as these have been isolated from the rest of the universe for so long that they believe themselves to be the only intelligent beings in existence (not that that's a very intelligent attitude to take). In their view of things, the primal soup of chaos is the universe, and they reside at its center, in the only stable spot in existence. Often, they are ruled by a quasi-religious order of anarchs
who seek to keep the rest of the population in ignorance concerning the ways in which intelligences can Shape that chaos to their own will. It can be quite a shock for such people when a stranger suddenly tumbles into town and starts blabbering about a whole universe full of other intelligent creatures.
It's worth noting that not all of these settlements have anarchs to maintain them. In some places, all that keeps the terrain stable is the fact that someone is always assigned to concentrate upon doing so. That is, there are special shifts of guardians assigned to just sit for a few hours at a time and maintain the terrain. If they were to stop, the town would just dissolve away right from under them and all their neighbors. It's not a terribly secure way to live, but for the locals it's better than drowning in the soup.
The upshot to all this is that in Limbo a cutter can encounter just about any sort of settlement imaginable, and then some. This one of the things that makes the plane a fascinating, though often deadly, place to explore.
ANIMALS
Animals on Limbo fall into two general categories: those native and those transplanted. Native animals are those able to survive in the primal soup, and they include such things as the fearsome chaos beast, the shelled krackadoon, the webwinged maugway, and the horned zhisto. Such creatures swim and crawl their way all across the plane, infesting soup and stable terrain alike.
Travelers in Limbo notice however, if they're alert, that some of the examples of prime-plane-type terrain they come across have prime-type animal life, and some other examples of it don't. If they're really sharp, they'll realize, without being told, that the animals always exist in inhabited terrain, and never in the freefloating, spontaneous bits. There's a simple reason for this. Limbo's primal matter can spontaneously manifest rock, dirt, streams, air, clouds, and even plants, but it doesn't do animals. And with the exception of those beings of Intelligence 19 or above, no one on Limbo is capable of willing animals into existence. However, most regions that are maintained by anarchs have been seeded with animals carefully gathered from off the plane. 'Course, if these regions were ever allowed to decay back into Limbo, the animals would perish. Because animals have been deliberately brought to the plane to seed these inhabited areas, the dwellers there are very careful in how they are handled. Rulers of these areas punish poaching with a ferocity to make the worst prime world sovereigns seem like nannies and wetnurses.
LIMBO'S LAYERS
A lot of scholars like to talk about Limbo as having various layers, and they even name them, as if giving them a tag will make them sit still and become a certainty. But the fact of the matter is, if Limbo does have layers, it don't respect scholars' boundaries at all. Sure, there are barriers a basher can encounter between one region of Limbo and the next, and there are paths through those barriers. But the barriers are never constant. Even if they were, the Limbo on one side of a barrier is much the same as the Limbo on the other, so there's not much point to them. Worse, the various realms and permanent cities generally ignore any barriers, being found one time on this side and the next time on the other.
So the pragmatist just treats Limbo as one vast layer, without worrying about why the barriers arise. And in that one vast layer lie all of Limbo's various realms, towns, and special features.
Places
- Fennimar
- Shra'kt'lor
- The Floating City
- Barnstable
- The Spawning Stone
- The Heroes
- Warrior's Rest
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