Agathys

Carceri — Layer the Sixth

The Chain of Black Ice, the Nadir of Nightmares, the Silence of Hope

Themes of the Layer: The brutal finality of betrayal and the harsh, unyielding nature of acceptance. Here, the philosophy is one of grim reconstruction—souls who betrayed trust are forced to endure the cold reality of their actions, both physically and mentally. The layer represents a twisted form of acceptance, where individuals are not forgiven or redeemed but are instead hardened by their suffering, forging a new, darker identity that can withstand the relentless bleakness of their existence. It’s a place where the final glimmer of hope is extinguished, leaving only a cold, steely resolve to survive the silence and isolation.

The Lay of the Land

Welcome to the Nadir of Nightmares, blood, the deepest, darkest pit in all of Carceri. If you thought the rest of this plane was grim, then Agathys is here to set you straight. It’s an endless, frozen sea of black ice, stretching out as far as the eye can see—or rather, as far as it can’t see, because here, there’s precious little light to go around. The sky above is murky, red and menacing, barely offering a glow. The only sound is the slow creak of the ice as it moves like a living lurking thing, inching its way toward anyone foolish enough to stand still.

You’re not here for a tour, though, are you? No, if you’ve found your way to Agathys, you’re probably on some miserable errand or punishment. Maybe you betrayed a friend, or cast aside a lover’s trust—well, now the coldness of your heart is mirrored in the very air you breathe. And breathe you will, though it’s a painful chore in itself. The air here is so thin and frigid that every breath feels like a blade slicing into your lungs, leaving you gasping and wheezing for more. Stand around long enough, and you might even find yourself encased in ice, just like the countless petitioners who’ve ended up as frozen statues in this place.

Prisoners of Agathys

These poor sods, they’ve got no one to blame but themselves. Agathys is where the worst of the worst end up—the ones who took genuine love, friendship, and trust, and tossed them aside like so much rubbish. And now, they get to experience the same cold cruelty they showed to others, only this time it’s the ice that’s doing the betraying. The petitioners here are a sorry lot, embedded halfway into the ice, their faces twisted in eternal agony. You’ll hear them crying out for help, promising riches, alliances, anything to get free. But if you’ve got an ounce of sense, you’ll keep walking. Even if you do manage to chip one out, chances are they’ll stab you in the back the first chance they get. Old habits die hard, after all.

Key Features of the Layer

Now, if you’re the curious type—and I’m guessing you are, seeing as you’re here—then you might want to poke around a bit. But watch your step. The ice here isn’t just cold, it’s hungry. Stay in one place too long, and you’ll feel it creeping up your legs, trying to pull you down, to add you to its collection. The only way to avoid it is to keep moving, but even that’s no guarantee. You see, Agathys isn’t just a frozen wasteland; it’s a living entity of sorts, always shifting, always changing. It’s said that some ancient secrets are buried deep within the inky depths, relics from when the baernaloths were still around. But good luck finding them—and surviving long enough to tell anyone about it.

For those of you who are gluttons for punishment—or just plain mad—there’s the Three-Sided Palace of Apomps, the Creator-Lord of all gehreleths. The palace, if you can call it that, is a twisted fortress of black ice, with three faces that supposedly represent the three sides of betrayal: the one who betrays, the one who is betrayed, and the one who stands by and does nothing. Old Apomps himself is a nasty piece of work, so unless you’ve got a death wish, I’d advise giving his realm a wide berth. Of course, if you’re here, maybe a death wish is exactly what you’ve got.

While you’re steering well clear of Apomps’ palace, you might stumble upon another infamous resident of Agathys: the power Nerull from Oerdian pantheon. He’s set up his own empire of misery here, surrounded by his loyal undead minions. They say that even the ice itself shudders in his presence, and that he’s always on the lookout for new recruits—willing or not. And trust me, once Nerull’s got his bony fingers on you, there’s no coming back.

But let’s not gloss over the real danger of Agathys—the silence. It’s not just the lack of sound, though that’s bad enough, what with only the occasional groan of the ice or the distant shrieks of the damned to keep you company. No, the silence here is oppressive, like a weight crushing down on your soul. It’s a sort of silence that seeps into your mind, making you doubt your own thoughts, and your own memories. It’s easy to lose track of time, of who you are, of why you even came here in the first place. And once you’ve lost yourself, the ice is all too eager to claim what’s left.

So, what’s the point of Agathys, you ask? It’s not just a frozen hellhole; it’s the final stage in the grand scheme of Carceri’s torment. This is where the betrayed and the betrayers come to accept their fate, to realize the full weight of their sins. But acceptance here isn’t about peace, atonement or forgiveness. It’s about hardening your heart, forging a new, darker self that can withstand the relentless cold. It’s about embracing the silence, the isolation, and letting it shape you into something stronger—if you survive, that is.

In the end, Agathys is about reconstruction, but not the kind you’d find in the softer planes. It’s a harsh, unforgiving rebuilding, where you’re forced to pick up the shattered pieces of your soul and put them back together, knowing full well that the cracks will never fully heal. It’s about accepting that you’re broken, that you’ve been broken by others, and forging ahead anyway, because there’s no other choice.

So, if you’ve got the guts—or the stupidity—to stick around, maybe you’ll find something worth taking away from Agathys. But don’t expect it to be pretty, and don’t expect to come out the same as when you went in. This is the end of the line, after all, where hope comes to die, and only the cold, steely resolve to survive remains.

Locations of Agathys

Divine Justice (realm of Tartarachus)
Library of Ignorance (site)
- Planar Handbook [3e] p159-160
Necromanteion (realm of Nerull)
- Hidden Temple
- Manual of the Planes [3e] p107-108
Pillar of Tears (realm of Vanus)
- Manual of the Planes [5e] p185
Three-Sided Palace (realm of Apomps)

Powers of Agathys

Apomps (baernoloth power of the gehreleth)
- Dragon Magazine #272 p76; Faces of Evil [2e] p69,72,80,83-86; Hellbound [2e] Dark of the War p10,71; Planescape Monstrous Compendium [2e] p42; On Hallowed Ground [2e] p53; Planes of Conflict [2e] Liber Malevolentiae p10,12,23; Player’s Guide p18; Something Wild [2e] p18,37
Kuvash (orcish power of treachery, cowardice)‡
Nerull (Oerdian power of death, murder, the Underworld)
- Deities and Demigods [3e] p84-86; Dragon Magazine #75 p54-55; #317 p61; #342 p38,51-52,54; #348 p60; #350 p19-20,24; #356 p37; Fiendish Codex II [3e] p11; Manual of the Planes [3e] p104,107-108; On Hallowed Ground [2e] p47,166-167,180; Planar Handbook [3e] p160,181,185
Tartarchus (fiendish power of captivity)‡

Movers and Shakers

Dreschm (planar derro wizard [he/him] / CE)
- Planar Handbook [3e] p160-161
Vanus (gehreleth abomination of Agathys [he/him])
- Manual of the Planes [5e] p185

Canonical Sources

Inner Planes [2e] p42
Manual of the Planes [3e] p107-108
Planar Handbook [3e] p159-160
Planes of Conflict [2e] Liber Malevolentiae p6,10,12,14,23; Player’s Guide p18
Planescape Campaign Setting [2e] DM’s Guide p56

Canonwatch: Entries are from D&D canon unless otherwise marked, although when the canon is sparse I’ve got creative with the details; † adapted from a 3rd party publication; ‡ homebrew.

More details to follow!

Other Sources:

Jon Winter-Holt