Type: Divine Plane of the Dead
Access: Via the Mouth of Hades in the mortal region of the Shaded Underlands.
Theme: Law, memory, consequence, and the quiet mercy of endings
Gods: Hades and Persephone; Judges Minos, Rhadamanthus, Aeacus; Charon; Thanatos, the Erinyes
Tone: Somber, just, inevitable — not cruel, but unyielding
Beneath the mortal world’s shadow, the Underworld unfurls across black glass plains, cavern rivers, and starless skies. When the first mortal died, the world cracked to make room for memory. Hades claimed guardianship, Persephone gave it seasons, and the Five Rivers carried the weight of all endings. Here, truth gathers like dew; every lie left behind curdles into a ghost.
The Underworld is wider than continents yet intimate as a whisper. It shapes itself to the procession of souls: crowded in times of plague, roomy during ages of peace. It remembers every footprint, even those of gods.
The air tastes of pomegranates and rain on stone. Silence has weight. Light arrives from no sun; instead, pale auroras ripple when the living speak the names of the dead.
Planar Traits:
Weight of Truth: Deception imposes a supernatural strain; lies falter and secrets bleed into sound.
Memory’s Price: Using the waters of the Lethe to forget exacts a cost — a skill, a face, or a name.
Bound Oaths: Promises sworn "by the Styx" bind body and soul; breaking one draws the pursuit of the Erinyes.
Season of Mercy: While Persephone reigns, flowers bloom in Asphodel and judgments are gentler.
The Asphodel Fields (Plain of the Many): An endless, gray meadow of whispering reeds where the shades of ordinary souls wander. Key sites include the Hall of Lanterns, where arrivals are recorded, and The Windless Tree, where souls hang ribbons of memory.
The Judges’ Circle (Court of Breathless Law): A basalt amphitheater where each soul stands before the three thrones of the judges—Minos, who weighs governance; Rhadamanthus, who measures adherence to oaths; and Aeacus, who tallies labors borne for others.
The Mourning Rivers (Fivefold Current): The Underworld’s arteries, including the Styx (sealing oaths), Lethe (erasing memory), Phlegethon (tempering souls with fire), Cocytus (echoing grief), and Acheron (carrying the unclaimed dead).
The Palace of Hades (Obsidian Court): A citadel of obsidian and crystal gardens, featuring Persephone’s Orchard and the Throne of the Silent Crown, where Hades hears petitions.
The Elysian Vale (Fields of Everdawn): An island of sunlit meadows within Hades reserved for the virtuous. The Vale is Hades' last field—the final threshold. The true plane of Elysium is a separate Everdawn realm that lies beyond the Vale's Silver Shore.
The Fields of Punishment: Within Hades, this is where Rhadamanthus assigns penances to correct mortal wrongs. The fire of the river Phlegethon burns the lie, not the flesh. Completing the task lifts the Stygian Mark from an oath-breaker's soul and allows them to return to Asphodel.
The Iron Thresholds of Tartarus (Gates Below): The deepest part of the Underworld, where the plane descends into the separate prison-realm of Tartarus. It is guarded by the Bronze Gates of Cronus, which seal away the Titans.
An obol is required for passage, but a sincere promise may substitute for a forgotten coin.
The living keep the dead from fading by speaking their names.
While Persephone rules, petitions for reprieve are heard; in her absence, the Furies’ writ expands.
To steal from the dead is to invite the wrath of an Erinys until restitution is made.
A Judge’s scale is imbalanced by a mortal curse; find the living culprit to free hundreds of stalled souls.
The Isles of the Dead are overflowing; Charon’s docks are in chaos—a living crew is needed to row the night.
Someone used the Lethe to erase both their crime and their victim’s name; reconstruct a life from its echoes.
Persephone offers a fruit from her orchard: a season of famine for your city in exchange for one life returned. Choose.
Hades is not hunger; it is closure. Here the world keeps its promises to itself. Walk softly, speak truly, and carry no stolen grief. If you must leave with a life not your own, be ready to bear its winter.