Annwn
| Divine Realm | |
|---|---|
| Plane: | The Gray Waste |
| Layer: | Niflheim |
| Powers: | Arawn |
- Death, though gray and dull, has its bright spots. Punishment comes to those who deserve it, while rewards are granted to the worthy. All things shall be repaid in kind.
Annwn, also known as the Isles of the Cursed or the Ten Isles, floats in the middle of a vast sea for from the center of Niflheim. Its rocky shores deter travelers, and it's said that no living cerature can survive the trip to the island. Arawn, Celtic god of death, watches over Annwn in an endless vigil. His far-piercing eye never rests, and he's constantly devising tests of loyalty for those who serve him.
Like most of the rest of the Gray Waste, Annwn appears dull and dismal. What isn't bleached bone white is shadowy and obscured, forming dark places among the mirages of the realm. Color can be found toward the center of the realm, with the real life of the place (so to speak), but the outer fringes remain as dark and dull as the rest of Niflheim.
Rocky and dark, the Isles are covered with oaks and pines and the occasional open plain or barren hillside. A perpetual mist hangs over the realm, but it's not nearly as thick as that which droops across the rest of the layer. There are bluffs and ravines, sheer places and flat places; in short, all manner of temperate terrains and misty dells. A body always sees a place he recognizes here, somehow brought here or recreated for his personal solace. Each spirit is granted a personal area of Annwn, to do with as he chooses. Some make druidical gloves, other build houses, and still others do as they've done in their lives: nothing.
Not all of Annwn consists of reflections. In fact, only a few areas belong solely to the petitioners. Still, enough of 'em are filled with angry berks that a body traveling through ought to be careful: some of the dead are mighty protective of their glens, and they've rigged raps to spring on invaders.
The dead-faced and grim petitioners are the spirits of those who did nothing to distinguish themselves in their lives, or those who never believed they had done enough. If their dying thoughts were of ignobility, then they became petitioners in Annwn. Those who actually accomplished something live closer to the center of the realm, nearer to Annwn's keep. The closer to the keep, the more memories of life they're allowed, and the more immunity to the Waste's ennui. Arawn occasionally lets a few of his minions travel back to the living world, where they can pass advice to their descendants and warning to their friends about possible treacheries.
Sites and Cities
On the shores of the great sea stands a mighty fortress of human bones. Surmounting it all is a skull, said be the last ruler of Annwn. This is the Fortress Annoeth, the lighthouse and sentry post for the realm The skull atop it acts both as the light - its eyes flame with a lambent light on especially foggy nights - and the eyes of Arawn, who can use the skull to see through the entire domain. Legend has it that the skull retains the intelligence and spirit of the old ruler. He's still fiercely protective of his former realm, and he loves his new job even more - he still oversees the realm, but has none of the administrative responsibilities.
Cauldron is the chief town of Annwn, and the largest city on the Ten Isles. All petitioners enter the realm here. The town takes its name from the great cauldron in the middle of the burg from which the dead crawl into their new lives. When they stand and straighten, they know their place in the underworld, and they hasten there. Some stay in Cauldron, acting as the townsfolk of the realm, while others move along to till the fields or hunt in the forests. They may grouse and grumble, but they do their tasks as Arawn commands.
Branwallis, a town of about 7,000, is the next largest settlement. Most of the scum of the realm gravitate here, including murderers, and it's got an unsavory reputation. Gambling halls and feasthalls can be found here, and the trade in the smoky taprooms is far more savage than in the rest of the realm. In its own way, Branwallis staves off the influence of the Waste, and so it's valuable for that alone.
Toward the center of the realm, a castle made of gold-etched iron and silver faintly glows through the gray filter of the Waste. it's from here that Arawn rules, and here that his gay court gathers. The court embraces strong and proud warriors, and fair and gracious ladies.