Abyss Plane

The Abyss operates as an intricate and anarchic plane, where order exists only in fleeting moments shaped by raw power and necessity. Its labyrinthine tunnels, carved through infinite Pitstone, echo with the ceaseless cycle of creation and destruction. Here, might makes right, but even the strongest entities are bound by the volatile rules of survival dictated by the plane itself. Devils, mortals, and strange parasitic lifeforms compete and coexist in a fragile equilibrium, each pursuing their own objectives in an environment hostile to stability.
Despite its chaos, the Abyss has a loose hierarchy, dominated by colossal True Devils like Abaddon the First, whose power eclipses even that of lesser deities. These "Calamities of the Pit" shape the destinies of the plane’s inhabitants, their rivalries and machinations carving out temporary dominions and influencing ichor flows, tunnel formations, and the migration of lesser beings. Mortals, who dare to tread here, are but fleeting actors on this grand stage, scraping by on borrowed light and desperate ingenuity.
The governance of the Abyss lies not in structured kingdoms or empires but in the unwritten rules dictated by survival. The Clots and Scabs scattered throughout its veins form tenuous societies, each clinging to whatever resources they can scavenge or barter. Trust is rare, alliances are temporary, and betrayal is often a necessity. The Asylums, in their relentless, unthinking advance, serve as both a source of hope and destruction, their light providing temporary safety but erasing all in their path.
In this realm of perpetual entropy, the Abyss itself is a living enigma, shaping and reshaping its reality without regard for its denizens. Those who seek to control it—devils, mortals, or gods—must contend with its inherent resistance to permanence, as even the most monumental achievements are swallowed by its unending hunger. This is the true essence of the Abyss: an eternal contest of endurance, adaptability, and will, where nothing lasts except the inevitability of the void.

Geography

The Abyss is an infinite, oppressive realm, composed entirely of twisting tunnels carved through the enigmatic substance known as Pitstone. Its geography defies mortal logic, lacking a sky, horizon, or any semblance of an open expanse. Instead, the plane is a sprawling network of colossal veins, caverns, and corridors—an endless labyrinth of decay and shadow where light is a rare and fleeting gift. These pathways vary in form, some stretching with unsettling symmetry while others wind into jagged, chaotic mazes that shift unpredictably, echoing the plane's inherent hostility to stability.
Pitstone: The Abyssal Substance Pitstone forms the very foundation of the Abyss, an uncanny material that feels almost alive. Its black, flesh-like texture is paradoxically firm yet malleable, a solid yet shifting entity that seems to pulse faintly with the plane's enigmatic rhythm. Though Pitstone is unnervingly inert, its depths hold veins of ichor, semi-sentient fluid streams that power much of the Abyss's life and danger. Without these veins, the Abyss would be a crushing, lifeless expanse—a tomb of unending darkness and suffocation.
The Veins of the Abyss The lifelines of the Abyss are its veins, immense tunnels carved by the inexorable passage of the Asylums. These colossal entities move through the Pitstone, creating vast arterial pathways that stretch infinitely. Veins bear the names of the Asylums that shaped them, and their walls still faintly glow with the remnants of the Asylum's light. However, this light fades over time, leaving the veins as cold, lightless monuments to their creators.
Asylums never retrace their steps, carving only forward. Those who lag behind must either adapt to the encroaching darkness or face the Pitstone's insidious corruption. For many, an Asylum's glow is a fragile lifeline, growing dimmer until it is no more than a pinprick—a distant North Star in the Abyssal gloom.
Cavernous Intersections Where multiple veins converge, the Abyss opens into vast, treacherous caverns. These intersections are perilous, often filled with bottomless chasms, abrupt drops, or remnants of older, collapsed veins leading into endless voids. Such junctions are dead ends for those following the light of an Asylum, forcing entire clots to either retreat or abandon their path entirely. Some intersections, however, harbor resources such as ichor pools or fungal blooms, drawing desperate scavengers despite the inherent danger.
The Ichor Flows The Abyss lacks traditional rivers or oceans but is threaded with ichor streams—known as black veins—that mimic the fluidity of water. These semi-sentient flows are both a resource and a hazard, carrying potent, mutative properties that can empower or destroy. When ichor surges, it creates volatile pools or rivulets of corruption, feeding both the flora and fauna of the Abyss while posing a lethal threat to the unwary.
Settlements: Scabs and Clots Amid this chaos, fleeting societies emerge. Scabs and clots—temporary and more permanent settlements, respectively—exist along the veins left by the Asylums. Scabs are fragile, transient camps set up by wanderers or survivors clinging to the faint remnants of an Asylum's light. Clots, on the other hand, represent more stable enclaves, often built near unique formations, ichor streams, or ruins. Clots rely on artificial light sources or ichor-powered technologies to stave off the ever-present corruption. However, even these bastions of stability are ephemeral in the Abyss, where nothing is safe from collapse or mutation.
Hariel’s Rest: A Singular Anomaly Standing apart from the ever-moving Asylums is Hariel’s Rest, an Asylum frozen in place by forces unknown. This immobile colossus serves as a rare stable point in the Abyss, its dim glow supporting a sprawling clot around its base. Known as a hub for adventurers, traders, and scholars, Hariel’s Rest is both a beacon of hope and a stark reminder of the Abyss’s dangers. Its surrounding clot thrives precariously, with inhabitants relying on the Asylum’s light while living in fear of its deadly Sentinel Web—a defensive mechanism that annihilates anything attempting direct contact. Hariel’s Rest is the exception in a plane defined by unceasing motion, a solitary light in an otherwise infinite darkness.

Ecosystem

The Abyss is a closed, hostile system sustained by an intricate cycle of predation, corruption, and decay. Its ecosystem is a reflection of the plane’s malevolent nature, shaped by its lack of sunlight and reliance on ichor and Pitstone as the primary sources of energy and sustenance. Every element within this system, from its smallest fungal spores to its apex predators, is adapted to the perpetual darkness and entropy of the plane.
Interaction with the Physical Environment Biological organisms in the Abyss interact with their surroundings in ways that mimic yet defy natural ecosystems. The Pitstone itself, though lifeless, acts as both a physical substrate and an indirect energy source. Creatures burrow into its surface to create temporary habitats, while ichor flows that run through its veins serve as the lifeblood of the system. These semi-sentient streams of ichor are not only sustenance but a force of mutation, influencing the behavior, physiology, and life cycles of nearly all organisms in the plane.
Light is an anomaly, and its rare presence—provided by Asylums—creates temporary surges of life and activity in the plane’s ecosystem. Organisms near this light experience rapid growth, but as the Asylums move on, the absence of light triggers mass migrations or the corruption of the abandoned organisms back into the Pitstone.
Energy Flow and Dynamics The Abyss operates on cycles of corruption rather than traditional energy exchanges like photosynthesis. Ichor flows act as the primary energy source, nourishing both parasitic fungi and predatory creatures. These flows vary in intensity and movement, sometimes surging through veins with destructive force, creating feeding frenzies among ichor-dependent organisms.
Fungal blooms play a pivotal role in breaking down ichor residues and decaying organisms, converting corruption into a form usable by smaller scavengers. This process establishes a crude but effective base layer of the food chain, allowing for interdependence within the ecosystem. Larger predators, from swarming Chitterlings to immense Pit Wyrms, ensure constant motion within the Abyss, as prey species are driven to adapt or perish.
Role of Corruption Corruption is both a resource and a threat. While ichor provides sustenance and power, its mutative properties ensure that survival often comes at a cost. Creatures that consume ichor too greedily risk destabilizing their forms, becoming aberrant horrors that threaten the ecosystem’s balance. Even fungal blooms, typically the most stable organisms, can overconsume and mutate into monstrous growths that devour entire sections of veins.
Symbiosis and Parasitism Symbiosis and parasitism dominate the Abyss’s ecosystem. Few organisms survive alone; instead, they form tenuous partnerships or exploit each other to endure. For example, carnivorous fungi form symbiotic relationships with ichor-fed creatures, using their corpses to propagate spores. Meanwhile, parasitic organisms latch onto larger predators, feeding on ichor-rich bloodstreams while remaining hidden.
Devils themselves, though not purely biological, are deeply integrated into the ecosystem. Their territories warp ichor flows and fungal growth patterns, and their presence creates ripples in the food chain as lesser creatures are drawn to or repelled by their domains.
Ecosystem Stability and Chaos The Abyss’s ecosystem is inherently unstable, driven by periodic ichor surges, vein collapses, and the migration of Asylums. These events create cycles of boom and bust, where population explosions are followed by mass die-offs. Despite this chaos, the system achieves a tenuous balance through its adaptability. The corruption that defines the Abyss ensures that nothing is wasted—everything, from failed organisms to spent ichor flows, is eventually reclaimed by the plane’s endless hunger.

Ecosystem Cycles

The Abyss does not follow conventional seasons or time cycles but is instead governed by the unrelenting motion of the Asylums and the volatile flows of ichor. These phenomena dictate waves of life, death, and migration, driving the plane’s chaotic ecosystem in a perpetual state of flux.
The Asylum Cycle The progress of an Asylum through a vein acts as the primary force shaping the Abyss’s ecosystem. As the Asylum advances, its light temporarily suppresses the corruption of the Pitstone, allowing a surge of activity among flora and fauna. Creatures flourish in the ephemeral sanctuary, feeding, breeding, and expanding while the light endures. However, once the Asylum continues its relentless march, the corruption reclaims the tunnel, forcing lifeforms into stark choices: migrate after the fading light, adapt to the growing darkness, or succumb.
This cycle profoundly impacts Abyssal societies. Scabs, temporary settlements formed in an Asylum’s path, are often abandoned as the light diminishes, leaving their inhabitants to scatter or perish. Clots, more established communities, fight to sustain themselves in the absence of light by creating artificial illumination or fortifying their settlements against corruption. Yet even the most resilient clots face inevitable decay, as prolonged isolation from an Asylum’s light increases their vulnerability to the plane’s encroaching entropy.
Ichor Surges Occasionally, the ichor veins coursing through the Pitstone erupt in violent surges, drastically altering the local ecosystem. These surges unleash torrents of volatile ichor, flooding tunnels and creating a chaotic frenzy. Predators and prey alike gather to exploit the abundance, triggering feeding frenzies and fierce territorial clashes. For some, these surges are an opportunity to grow stronger; for others, they are a death sentence.
Ichor surges also amplify the fluid’s mutative properties, causing rapid, often grotesque transformations in those exposed. New lifeforms spawn during these events, many unstable and short-lived but some powerful enough to disrupt local hierarchies. Fungal blooms release vast clouds of spores during surges, spreading their territory and increasing competition for resources.
Larger predators, such as Pit Wyrms, are particularly active during these periods, preying on ichor-feeding creatures with ferocity. These surges often leave behind dramatically altered ecosystems, where only the most adaptable can survive.
The Encroachment Cycle In the absence of an Asylum, the Abyss reclaims its territory. The Pitstone slowly regenerates, closing abandoned tunnels and consuming stagnant ichor flows. This process, known as the Encroachment Cycle, is relentless, extinguishing any life forms unable to escape its advance. Clots left behind in such veins must continually battle against the Pitstone’s encroachment, often resorting to desperate measures to maintain their light sources and resist corruption.
Encroachment also forces migrations as creatures and societies alike are driven toward active Asylum paths or ichor-rich regions. The dynamic created by this process ensures that the Abyss’s ecosystem remains in constant motion, with populations competing for survival in an unending struggle against the plane’s natural reclamation.
Predator Peaks Periods of relative stability in clots or ichor-rich areas provide a brief reprieve, allowing apex predators to emerge and dominate their territories. These creatures, from towering Pit Wyrms to ravenous packs of Ashstriders, shape the local ecosystem by preying on weaker inhabitants and enforcing temporary hierarchies.
However, this dominance is fleeting. Ichor scarcity, Asylum migrations, or the appearance of rival predators inevitably disrupt these peaks, reducing once-powerful entities to prey themselves. The resulting chaos renews the cycle of competition and adaptation, ensuring no single force can maintain control indefinitely.

Localized Phenomena

The Abyss is not a static environment, and its local phenomena reflect the plane’s capricious nature. These events, shaped by ichor flows, Pitstone volatility, and the movements—or stillness—of Asylums, define much of the danger and unpredictability faced by its denizens. Whether one is an established clot-dweller, a nomadic traveler chasing the glow of an Asylum, or a devil shaping entire regions, no entity is exempt from the influence of these sudden and often devastating occurrences.
Vein Collapses Even the veins carved by Asylums—lifelines of light and possibility—are prone to failure. Over time, the Pitstone’s regenerative push and the shifting currents of ichor weaken these corridors. A vein collapse can occur without warning: one moment, a navigable tunnel stands firm; the next, it ruptures and crumbles into bottomless chasms. For scabs and clots clinging to precarious stability, a collapse can mean instant isolation, cutting off vital routes to ichor supplies or distant Asylum glows. Glow-Runners may find their narrow window of safe passage abruptly sealed, while Trace-Callers must redraw their mental maps as entire pathways vanish. In the Abyss, such collapses serve as stark reminders that no passage remains secure for long.
Ichor Storms When ichor veins surge and rupture, the Abyss undergoes a violent transformation. These “ichor storms” flood tunnels with volatile fluid, warping stone and life alike. Creatures caught in the torrent find themselves mutated or dissolved, and fungal blooms react with frenetic growth, unleashing spores that further tangle the food chain. For some, the chaos presents opportunity: Spore-Keepers harvest rare ichor-stained substrates, while Whisper-Traders might glean new secrets as territories shift. Yet the risks are immense. Even successful scavengers may emerge changed, bearing strange powers or scars that mark them as forever tethered to the plane’s corruptive essence.
Luminal Phantoms In regions where an Asylum’s glow has faded to a distant pinprick—what some might call “Glowfall” or nearing “Glow’s End”—Luminal Phantoms appear. These ethereal shapes replay fractured scenes of past travelers, desperate battles, or vanished scabs. Their origins remain obscure, debated by scholars and devils alike. Some claim these phantoms are echoes of souls consumed by the Abyss, while others suspect temporal distortions caused by ichor fluctuations. Although initially passive, Luminal Phantoms grow hostile if approached. Their intangible assaults unravel minds, inducing despair and madness. For clots teetering on the brink, encountering such phantoms can tip the balance toward ruin.
Pitstone Bleeding At times, the Pitstone itself weeps ichor-like fluids that harden into jagged, brittle formations—a phenomenon known as Pitstone Bleeding. This spectacle draws Shard-Pipers and bold traders, as these crystallized tears hold alchemical value. Yet harvesting them is perilous. Toxic vapors drift in these zones, inducing hallucinations or violent paranoia. The structures are fragile, prone to shattering into razor shards at the slightest disturbance. While the promise of profit or power beckons, few return without scars, physical or mental.
Void Rifts Rarest and most dreaded are Void Rifts, tears in the Abyss that reveal impossible vistas of raw chaos beyond the plane’s known limits. They appear without pattern, devouring tunnels and inhabitants in silent, merciless gulps. From these rifts, alien entities sometimes emerge—creatures that cannot be classified by any known taxonomy. Even True Devils shy from Void Rifts, acknowledging them as anomalies beyond their manipulative reach. When a rift closes, it leaves behind a scarred region that resists the Pitstone’s slow reclamation, lingering as a silent reminder to forces that neither Asylums nor devils can tame.

Climate

The Abyss knows no conventional climates or seasonal rhythms. Its atmosphere and conditions are shaped by corruption, ichor flows, and the unpredictable presence or absence of an Asylum’s light. Instead of temperature gradients driven by celestial bodies, the Abyss relies on internal forces—flows of ichor, Pitstone shifts, and the influence of formidable entities—to determine its ever-changing environment.
Ambient Oppression Breathing the Abyss’s air is an act of endurance. The atmosphere presses down, laden with intangible malice and decay. Those unaccustomed to it feel their morale eroding with each breath, as if the very air conspires to break their spirit. Whether huddling in a clot beneath a fading Asylum glow or journeying Glowward into unknown darkness, inhabitants must brace themselves against the weight of malevolence that taints every lungful.
Temperature Extremes Most tunnels hover in damp, clammy coolness that saps warmth and comfort. Yet pockets of extreme heat or numbing cold emerge unpredictably. Ichor surges can boil the air to scorching intensity, while proximity to a True Devil’s domain may plunge corridors into bitter chill or feverish warmth. These microclimates deter long-term settlement—scabs crumble under temperature swings, and clots must invest in insulation, magic, or cunning design to weather these abrupt changes.
Ichor Vapors and Toxic Zones The semi-sentient ichors seeping through Pitstone veins produce vapors that create localized danger zones. These fumes carry mutagenic properties, altering the physiology and minds of those who linger too long. Fungal colonies and parasitic growths flourish in these areas, forming bizarre ecosystems reliant on toxic fumes. For denizens skilled enough to navigate these zones, the rewards can be great—exotic materials, potent reagents—but so too are the risks of contamination and madness.
Acoustic Disturbances Soundscapes in the Abyss range from haunting silence to relentless cacophony. Some tunnels remain eerily quiet, broken only by the distant drip of ichor, while others throb with unsettling noises—groans of Pitstone compression, distant roars of unknown beasts, or the echoing hum of shifting fungal forests. These acoustic anomalies disorient travelers, making direction and orientation challenging. Whisper-Traders learn to use these sounds as navigational cues, while others rely on Trace-Callers to guide them through ever-shifting auditory mazes.
Ethereal Light and Distorted Shadows Though sunlight is alien to the Abyss, the waning afterglow of an Asylum’s passage offers brief illumination. Over time, this residual light warps, reflecting off pitstone irregularities and creating illusions of movement. Shadows stretch and writhe in unnatural patterns, heightening the pervasive paranoia. Without a stable light source, communities rely on Void Lichen or carefully cultivated fungal blooms to stave off complete darkness. Even at Hariel’s Rest, where one Asylum stands eternally frozen, the stable glow does not dispel the uneasy interplay of flickering brightness and creeping silhouettes.
Corruptive Decay Corruption is the one constant of the Abyss’s environment. Metal tarnishes without reason, flesh bruises spontaneously, and arcane wards weaken inexplicably. Objects and organisms degrade under corruption’s relentless pressure, ensuring that all creations—be they scab shelters, clot fortifications, or carefully crafted gear—require constant maintenance. This rot extends beyond the physical, gnawing at courage, loyalty, and hope until even emotional bonds become brittle.

Fauna & Flora

Flora In the Abyss, plant life as mortals understand it does not exist. Instead, the plane’s flora are predatory and parasitic organisms, thriving on ichor, corruption, and the lingering entropy that saturates their environment. Without sunlight or soil, these lifeforms draw sustenance from the ambient malevolence that seeps through Pitstone veins, absorbing mutative energies and filtering toxins until they become potent forces in their own right. They are neither gentle nor passive—many flora actively hunt, ensnare, or feed upon anything foolish enough to approach.
Spireweeds stand among the most recognizable forms of Abyssal flora. These towering, fibrous stalks sway as if guided by unseen currents, their hollow bodies humming with eerie vibrations. While their capacity to filter toxins makes them crucial to narrow ecosystems reliant on ichor-laced air, Spireweeds are hardly benevolent. Lashing tendrils snap at creatures straying too close, dragging them into thorn-lined hollows. Travelers, including skilled Glow-Runners, learn to spot and circumvent Spireweeds, following the tremors of their hums as a grim warning.
Bleedblooms appear deceptively inviting, with translucent petals and crimson ichor dripping from their veins like nectar. Alchemists and traders treasure these blooms for the reagents they produce, yet harvesting Bleedblooms risks a horrible death. Their parasitic roots burrow into living hosts—be they mortal or devil—draining vitality and leaving twisted husks in their wake. Removal is often fatal, as tendrils anchor deep into flesh and bone. Even Whisper-Traders, knowledgeable in rare reagents, treat these blooms with reverent caution.
In deeper tunnels, Void Lichen clings to Pitstone ceilings, emitting a faint, ghostly bioluminescence. This dim glow can guide lost wanderers, but prolonged exposure warps perception, inducing paranoia and hallucinations. Trace-Callers sometimes harvest Void Lichen in minuscule quantities to mark routes, balancing the risk of corruption against the utility of navigation aids. Finally, Nailtrees, ancient and inert giants, stand like inverted monoliths of living metal, weeping slow ichor tears. Some scholars suspect these structures were once sentient, now reduced to silent sentinels whispering fragmented knowledge into the gloom.

Fauna The Abyss teems with creatures warped by corruption, creatures that defy natural laws and thrive in darkness. Many blend biological and abyssal traits, evolving complex survival strategies that rely on stealth, predation, or symbiosis. Predators dominate this hierarchy, ensuring that only the cunning and resilient endure.
Chasm Wyrms are among the most feared predators. These immense, eyeless serpents burrow endlessly through Pitstone, carving new tunnels as they pursue ichor flows. Their segmented bodies glisten with oily secretions, and rows of ever-shifting teeth can shred even hardened prey. Adventurers who stray into a Chasm Wyrm’s domain know the cost of intrusion—tunnels become deathtraps, coated in corrosive slime that deters pursuit and contaminates gear. Husk-Wardens, sworn to protect scabs and clots, sometimes stand guard at tunnel mouths, listening for the distant scrape of chitin against stone.
Ashstriders, lean quadrupeds with skeletal frames, hunt in relentless packs. Their hollow howls echo through twisting corridors, wearing down victims over days of pursuit. Their toxin-laced bites degrade the senses of prey, making escape increasingly improbable. Fleeing travelers often rely on Spore-Keepers’ fungal extracts or Shard-Pipers’ cunning use of Soulshards to gain a crucial edge, yet even these defenses can falter against persistent hunters.
At the apex of the food chain lurk the Devourers, colossal and elusive. Drifting through vast caverns hewn by Asylums, they feed on ichor, devils, and even the Pitstone itself, leaving voids that reshape the landscape. Their passing is silent, heralded only by abrupt stillness and unease. Some believe Devourers predate the Abyss’s current form, relics of a primordial era when chaos was raw and unbounded. Their existence sets a baseline of terror against which all other threats are measured.
Not all fauna threaten immediate harm. Embyrkin are small, devil-like creatures forming symbiotic bonds with certain inhabitants. They assist with ichor gathering or defense against minor predators, fiercely protecting their chosen domains. While Embyrkin never truly tame the Abyss, they offer a rare, if fragile, alliance that can mean the difference between survival and oblivion in a plane where trust is scarce.
Finally, Ichor Wasps swarm near ichor sources, stinging intruders with venom that transmutes flesh into corrupt matter. These swarms spread infection, turning victims into more horrors that fuel the plane’s endless cycle of life and decay. Scabs and clots struggling to maintain stability often deploy Husk-Wardens or rely on Spore-Keepers’ antitoxins to repel such infestations, knowing that a single swarm can unravel months of careful preparation.

Natural Resources

Within the Abyss, resources are both a promise of survival and an invitation to ruin. Every substance extracted from Pitstone, ichor veins, or parasitic flora carries the plane’s corruptive taint, making each harvest fraught with danger. Communities like clots and scabs, along with daring outsiders, depend on these resources to endure and trade, often risking their lives in the process. At Hariel’s Rest—an immobile Asylum serving as a rare commercial hub—merchants, Whisper-Traders, and Shard-Pipers bargain over these precious commodities, fully aware that each transaction might cost them more than mere coin.
Pitstone Pitstone is the structural flesh of the Abyss, forming its infinite tunnels. Freshly exposed Pitstone can be carved by Glow-Runners before the Asylum’s fading radiance renders it inert and impenetrable. Processed Pitstone paste sustains those who cannot chase the light, providing baseline nutrition, while more skilled artisans refine it into building materials, armor, and tools resistant to corruption. However, obtaining fresh Pitstone demands impeccable timing and coordination; a moment’s hesitation can leave would-be harvesters entombed in hardened stone, sealed forever in silent darkness.
Abyssal Ichor Ichor veins snake through Pitstone like lifeblood, their viscous fluid powering life, mutation, and madness. Alchemists revere ichor for its potency, distilling it into elixirs that enhance strength, perception, or magical prowess. Artificers tap ichor’s volatile essence to power infernal devices, forge weapons that radiate malevolent energy, or create wards that repel even Celestials. Yet handling raw ichor is a death-defying feat. It twists flesh and mind alike, forcing Spore-Keepers, Whisper-Traders, and Husk-Wardens to collaborate in careful harvest operations. Ichor surges can spark bidding wars at Hariel’s Rest, as factions vie to control fresh caches of this coveted fluid.
Void Lichen Void Lichen offers a dim glimmer of hope in tunnels otherwise smothered by darkness. Its pale glow, harvested by intrepid gatherers, provides a fragile light source for desperate travelers. Trace-Callers use Void Lichen to mark safe routes or guide explorers along precarious ledges. In alchemical labs hidden beneath Clots, it becomes a key ingredient in potions granting night vision or limited immunity to dark magics. But Void Lichen resists easy capture: its spores unsettle the mind, and prolonged exposure warps perception, ensuring that even the bravest must weigh the cost of illumination against the risk of madness.
Bleedbloom Nectar The nectar of Bleedblooms represents another paradoxical boon. Sought for its regenerative properties, it can restore life or bolster strength—at least temporarily. Specialized teams of Shard-Pipers and Spore-Keepers orchestrate harrowing raids to extract this nectar, wearing protective charms to prevent the parasitic roots from claiming their flesh. Alchemists craft powerful salves and elixirs from properly refined Bleedbloom nectar, traded discreetly in the dim corners of Hariel’s Rest. Yet those who rely too heavily on such concoctions find their bodies altered over time, their forms reshaped to better serve the Abyss’s hunger.
Shards of Eternal Echoes Buried deep within Pitstone layers lie the Shards of Eternal Echoes, resonant crystals humming with the muted voices of past horrors or distant realms. Sorcerers and scholars prize these shards for their ability to store spells, focus mental energies, or enhance weaponry with haunting effects. Extracting them, however, draws forth guardians—dormant horrors awakened by disturbance. Shard-Pipers, adept at navigating subtle magics, lead expeditions to pry these shards free, sometimes bargaining with Devils or risking encounters with Luminal Phantoms to secure their prize.
Soulshards Among the Abyss’s most sinister treasures are Soulshards, fragments of essence left behind by beings consumed or corrupted. These iridescent shards form the currency of infernal contracts and power potent infernal crafts. Devils use Soulshards to seal alliances, fuel magic, or forge artifacts steeped in malevolence. For outsiders, trading Soulshards in Hariel’s Rest or other enclaves is a double-edged sword, potentially opening doors to forbidden knowledge but also painting a target on their backs.
Abyssal Oil Distilled from the remains of colossal fauna such as Chasm Wyrms, Abyssal Oil burns with a cold, spirit-like flame capable of wounding incorporeal entities. Weapon-smiths covet this oil for crafting ghostbane blades or empowering siege contraptions that can fend off even the deadliest predators. Yet refining Abyssal Oil is a deadly craft. A single mishap may incinerate the alchemist’s entire lab—or worse, unleash corruptive leaks that transform the workers themselves into twisted aberrations.

History

In the earliest epochs, the Abyss existed as a nameless void of infinite corridors and pulsing Pitstone, its form and purpose beyond mortal reason. No one knows what first introduced hunger, malice, or even the notion of life into this mutable expanse. Before devils emerged or Asylums carved their luminous veins, the plane endured as a silent embryo of potential, shaping and reshaping itself through countless collapses and unknown influences. Within these ancient hollows—now lost beneath layers of calcified Pitstone—lay the seeds of all future struggles and triumphs.
The Primordial Tumors and the Birth of Devils At some immeasurable point, malformed growths within the Pitstone, later called Tumors of Pitstone, took on rudimentary awareness. Over aeons, these entities evolved into the earliest devils—massive, mindless predators navigating a plane without light or reason. As they preyed upon one another and adapted to shifting ichor flows, these proto-devils diversified into new lineages. Their descendants, gradually honing instincts and cunning, defined the first natural hierarchies in a place otherwise governed by chaos. The Abyss began to accrue a history of conflict and adaptation, its denizens gaining form and purpose in the perpetual dark.
Ichor Flows and Cycles of Creation As cryptic ichor streams laced through Pitstone, feeding fungal blooms and mutating lifeforms, the Abyss’s complexity grew. Entire ecologies rose and fell with each seismic shift or vein collapse. Fungal forests sprouted and died overnight, and monstrous predators flourished briefly before succumbing to the next catastrophic event. These cycles of creation, destruction, and rebirth formed the Abyss’s baseline reality. Adaptation became the law of survival, and through eras of experimentation, some creatures learned to harness ichor’s potency. By filtering toxins or consuming corrupted matter, they turned corruption itself into a resource.
The Arrival of the Asylums The sudden appearance—or perhaps awakening—of the Asylums forever changed the Abyss. These colossal drills marched through Pitstone, carving veins of faint, precious light into the endless dark. For the first time, stable illumination flickered through the Abyss’s tunnels, allowing ephemeral scabs and, later, more enduring clots to form. With this light came new professions: Glow-Runners raced to harvest fresh Pitstone and ichor before the Asylums’ annihilating glow passed, while Spore-Keepers, Whisper-Traders, Shard-Pipers, Husk-Wardens, and Trace-Callers emerged to meet fresh challenges. Mortals and devils alike struggled to balance on a razor’s edge between illumination and annihilation as Asylums pressed ever forward, never once retracing their steps.
This era also brought the discovery of the Sentinel Web, the Asylums’ impenetrable defense mechanism. Early attempts to exploit or board an Asylum ended in instant disintegration. Such hard lessons became etched into Abyssal lore, reinforcing the Asylums’ untouchable status and forcing civilizations to thrive without ever claiming their luminous source.
The Reign of True Devils and Abyssal Empires Over the epochs, some devils ascended to unimaginable heights of power, becoming True Devils—Calamities of the Pit. Their names, such as Abaddon the First (Faithslayer), Shethisa the Blooming Rot, and the Veiled Crone, became bywords for terror. These tyrants twisted ichor flows, commanded legions of lesser fiends, and reshaped entire regions. Their rivalries sparked migrations, forced new adaptations, and forever raised the stakes of survival. Mortal enclaves that sprang up in Asylum veins had to negotiate uneasy truces or employ cunning to evade notice. The presence of these colossal beings ensured that no stable empire could last, only temporary dominions gnawed hollow by the Abyss’s hunger.
Into this fragile balance stepped Crow, a deity who introduced the first Abaddon—an entity exceeding even Crow’s intended might. With Abaddon’s ascension, old hierarchies fractured. True Devils approached her domain cautiously, and mortal settlers realized the need for even more specialized roles to endure. Crow’s subtle influence and Abaddon’s overwhelming presence proved that outsiders could shape the Abyss’s destiny, leaving mortal and devil societies scrambling for advantage and meaning.
The Age of Hariel’s Rest and Cultural Evolutions Amid this turbulence, one Asylum, Hariel, became inexplicably trapped—its immobility spawning Hariel’s Rest, a rare and permanent clot. This hub changed the Abyss’s social fabric. Within Hariel’s Rest, traders, alchemists, and scholars gathered under a stable glow that defied the plane’s constant motion. Whisper-Traders established discreet markets, Spore-Keepers cultivated fungal gardens in relative safety, and Shard-Pipers sold precious Soulshards or Shards of Eternal Echoes at grimly negotiated prices. Here, mortals and lesser devils mingled, exchanging knowledge and forging alliances that rippled through the plane’s endless corridors. Hariel’s Rest became a cultural waypoint—an improbable hearth in a wilderness of chaos.
Over countless generations, oral traditions and whispered prophecies emerged. The names of old predators and extinct fungi became legends passed among hushed travelers. Complex navigation terms like Veinward, Glowward, and Darkward gained currency as people struggled to map this featureless darkness. Rituals and rites were born from the need to secure ichor, Void Lichen, or Bleedbloom Nectar. In these evolving customs, mortals found a fragile sense of identity and continuity, even as Asylums carved new veins and ichor surges swept old settlements away.
Eternal Flux and Enduring Resilience No narrative in the Abyss remains stable. Void Rifts tear open without warning, erasing centuries of progress or unleashing new horrors. Factions rise and fall as True Devils vie for supremacy. The Asylums march on, indifferent to mortal efforts. Yet, amidst the upheaval, clots persist and scabs form anew. Survival strategies grow more intricate; mortals learn to distill Abyssal Oil or to harness ichor’s mutative properties with greater finesse. Devils refine their manipulations of ichor flows, forging silent empires in shadowed depths.
Throughout this long, nonlinear history, the Abyss resists any coherent narrative of progress. Each epoch’s achievements and catastrophes are etched into Pitstone layers as distorted fossils. Hariel’s Rest stands as a singular anomaly—a beacon and a bargaining table, a place where Crow’s lingering influence, Abaddon’s dread reputation, and the quiet cunning of countless survivors intersect.
In the end, the Abyss’s history is a tale of ceaseless transformation. From primordial Tumors to cunning True Devils, from the shock of Asylums’ illumination to the stillness of Hariel’s Rest, every chapter underscores that nothing remains constant. Only entropy, corruption, and the stubborn resilience of those who dare inhabit this realm endure. In this eternal contest, the faintest sparks of hope and understanding flicker briefly, then vanish into the unending dark—just another whisper in the Abyss’s immeasurable depths.

Tourism

Few would label the Abyss a destination for recreation, yet visitors—scholars, rogues, occultists, and thrill-seekers—risk its depths for rewards found nowhere else. Rumors drift through safer worlds: whispers of ichor-fed relics that bend minds, pitstone-forged blades impervious to ordinary rot, and Soulshards that store forbidden magics. Some outsiders arrive hoping to study devils or negotiate terms with Whisper-Traders in search of rare reagents. Others yearn to witness the harsh proofs of survival, believing that enduring the Abyss’s trials might grant them a prestige or insight unobtainable in gentler planes.
Their journeys seldom resemble ordinary travel. Instead of inns and markets lit by comforting lamps, these “tourists” navigate veins carved by relentless Asylums, following dim glows that soon recede into distant pinlights. Where conventional travelers might consult a guidebook, these adventurers hire Trace-Callers to chart shifting corridors, or bargain with Spore-Keepers for nutrient slurries distilled from fungal blooms. Husk-Wardens might be retained as armed escorts, fending off Ashstriders and Chasm Wyrms that prowl the darkness.
Many visitors find temporary refuge at Hariel’s Rest—the single known immobile Asylum and its surrounding clot, which serves as the Abyss’s closest approximation to a hub of commerce and diplomacy. Here, Void Lichen lamps cast soft radiance over cramped stalls. Shard-Pipers peddle Soulshards or Shards of Eternal Echoes, while Whisper-Traders exchange cryptic lore for ichor-laced coin. Rations taste of pitstone paste and fungal extracts, and beds are makeshift and cramped. Still, compared to the outside tunnels, Hariel’s Rest is a sanctuary of relative calm, a place where even decadent aristocrats from distant worlds might dare to linger.
Yet no arrangement is ever safe or cheap. Trading at Hariel’s Rest or other enclaves risks attracting devils’ notice, as True Devils and lesser fiends keep silent watch over mortal interlopers. A careless boast might summon a predator’s interest, while a miscalculated deal might leave the traveler indebted to an unseen power. Adventurers seeking to test themselves often follow the Asylum’s glow too far, lured deeper by the promise of rarities. They soon discover that Glow-Runners and Shard-Pipers do not exaggerate the dangers: vein collapses, ichor storms, and Luminal Phantoms spare no one, not even the well-prepared.
For those who survive, the Abyss’s gifts are singular. Returning with Abyssal Oil to forge ghostbane steel, or hauling back fragments of Void Lichen to light a foreign scholar’s study, marks an adventurer as someone who defied a place hostile to the very concept of rest. Some emerge richer, clutching valuables never meant for mortal hands. Others return hollow-eyed, changed by hallucinations, scars, or subtle corruptions that linger beneath their skin and soul. All depart with a memory etched into their bones—a testament that they stood on a precipice where no gods hold sway, where light is borrowed and life is negotiated moment by moment.
This is tourism in the Abyss: no serene vistas, no guaranteed returns. Only a gauntlet of horrors and allurements, where knowledge, power, and prestige are wrested from darkness at a terrible price.

Alternative Name(s)

The Endless Black

Type

Plane of Existence

Owner/Ruler

Abaddon the First

Additional Rulers/Owners

• Shethisa the Blooming Rot
• The Veiled Crone

Ruling/Owning Rank

Calamity of the Pit

Related Ethnicities

• Abaddon

Contested By

• The Blighted Concord
• The Clutch of Tenebris
• The Forsaken Pact
• The Scourgecloaks

Inhabiting Species

• Arachniea