Gates of Renown and Infamy

Gates of Renown and Infamy

Location: Abyss / Layer 4 — Grand Abyss

The Grand Abyss is a portal-hopper’s dream and a Guvner cataloguer’s nightmare. There are gates everywhere, most of them aren’t labelled, and the ones that are, well, I’m sure you you know the expression ‘trustworthy as a tanar’ri’…

Chant goes that the Grand Abyss pierces down through every other layer of the Abyss, so in theory they can all be reached by a climber with sufficient skill and patients to seek. That certainly doesn’t mean a gate to each layer has been discovered—yet—although plenty of planewalkers and graybeards alike have tried. The chaotic and malicious nature of the Abyss means that the number of the layer has no bearing on where a gate to said layer might be found, further adding to the headaches for sods trying to compile a list.

Natural arches, crevices, glowing runes—any one of ’em could be a gate. Most lead to other Abyssal layers, others to Lower Planes, and some… well, there’s a reason the Devouring Door is infamous. We’ll cover that one later…

Every gate has its own personality — they look like where they lead, smell like it too, and sometimes they reach back for those who linger too long. Here then is a non-exhaustive (but certainly exhausting to collect) summary of some of the better-known gates in the Grand Abyss.

• Agonising Doorway (to layer 12)
• Blistering Door (to layer 403)
• Carapace, the (to layer 663)
• Copper Wound (to layer 113)
• Devouring Door, the (hazard)
• Clock Without Numbers (to layer 121)
• Door of Many Names (to layer 71)
• Doorway To Obliteration (to layer 531)
• Fissure of Bones (to layer 112)
• Forbidden Gate, the (to layer 68)
• Furnace of Hearts (to layer 45-47)
• Gallows Arch (to layer 109)
• Gate of Dancing Chains (to layer 57)
• Hallucination Gate (destination unknown)
• Hungerer, the (to layer 10)
• Laughing Arch (to layer 600)
• Maw of Klesh’gorr (to layer 136)
• Mirror that Bleeds (to layer 487)
• Pathless Gate (to layer 444)
• Rusted Keyhole (to layer 270)
• Screaming Key (to layer 222)
• Scuttling Tower, the (to layer 2)
• Stitched Gate (to layer 467)
• Stone That Weeps Blood (layer 103)
• Tinea Corporis (layer 222)
• Thorn-Crowned Mirror (layer 49)
• Two-Faced Gate (to layer 93)
• Veil of Swarming Glass (layer 66)
• Whispering Fissure (to layer 3)

Agonising Doorway, the

Destination: Twelvetrees (Layer 12)

Although Twelvetrees has a pit-gate upon Pazunia as well, the dominant portal used by those beings who wish to try and ensure that Gaping Maw is not immediately aware of their arrival is found in the Grand Abyss instead. Located on the Lower Vorago of Hag’s Rock, the Twelvetrees gate can be easily found due to the fact that it emits waves of suffering and agony which can be felt by any good-aligned creature that gets within 500 feet of it [D&D 3.53/PF1e Rules: Will save at DC 25 or else take -4 to all saves as long as they are within the area affected].

The gate is simple but enormous, a pair of unadorned wooden doors, which are nearly thirty feet tall. Its platform is also made of the same wood, harvested from the Plane of Fire, that will never burn regardless of the strength of the fire applied to it. Opening the gate itself is both simple yet subtle. It requires a scream of genuine anguish from a good-aligned creature within twenty feet. However, given the rarity of good aligned creatures in these parts (despite the enjoyment that demons would have in otherwise tormenting them merely to open the portal), the most common method consists of recording a good creature’s scream with a mimir, and then directing it to scream before the aperture.

The Blistering Door

Destination: The Rainless Waste (403rd layer)

It looks like a wooden door set into raw rock, but the wood isn’t dead. It’s swollen, pulsing with boils and blisters. Some of the blisters are clear, showing tiny shapes moving inside. Sometimes they burst, and the stink is unforgettable—spoiled meat and hot sewage. If you touch the handle, you’ll feel a heartbeat.

Sometimes, the blisters pop on their own, and shadowy figures spill out. Humanoid, but blurry at the edges. They watch you with unseen eyes, and if you stay too long, they start to chant your name. If you open the door, it doesn’t swing on hinges. It twists, like a dislocated joint, cracking loudly as it bends.

Through the Blistering Door lies the Rainless Waste, a sunless desert of ash and shadow. There is no sun, but shadows stretch as if there were. Shapes dart just at the edge of your sight, and if you stop moving, they get closer. The dunes are grey-black, and sometimes they sift themselves into humanoid shapes. It’s said this is where shadow-spawn are born, each one formed from cast-off dreams and broken oaths.

If your shadow ever stops matching your movements, leave. Leave now.

The Carapace

Destination: Xhoul (Layer 663)

As Obox-Ob is one of the most ancient active denizens of the Abyss, it should come as little surprise that his layer, Xhoul, can be accessed from the Grand Abyss instead of Pazunia. In his case, the entrance to Xhoul within the Grand Abyss is a bizarre structure known as the Carapace. It consists of an overlapping series of insectile scales inscribed in the wall, which in turn is encircled by a ring of compound, insectile eyes and ever-shifting arthropod limbs, growing and altering to appear in one second mantid-like, while in another similar to those of a housefly. Those who attempt to attack the Carapace discover that it is amply capable of defending itself through modifying its limbs into a multitude of venom-injecting scorpion stingers [Attack +30, Fort save DC 40, causing constitution damage], spewing corrosive poison [Dealing 16d6 points of acid damage], or sending waves of insanity [Will save at DC 40, 100 ft. radius] from the layer itself outwards to derange its attackers.

Obox-Ob’s gate can be opened by any being that possesses both insectile and qlippothic aspects to their nature. Many forms of qlippothic grafts are sufficient to trigger the aperture, and attaching them to other creatures is the most common means by which it is opened by non-ekolid. Whether they survive the procedure or not is largely irrelevant.

The Carapace is located on the Upper Vorago of Hag’s Rock, despite Obox-Ob’s best efforts to actually make it more obscure. Interestingly, both Obox-Ob as well as his pre-eminent minions seem to be unaware of both Rahab and Tharzax’s efforts towards a similar end—although for entirely different motives.

The Clock Without Numbers

Destination: Degrazazt (121st layer)

It isn’t a gate you’d expect. No swirling vortex. No grim archway. It’s a clock face embedded in the cliff wall, smooth and black like obsidian. There are no numbers on its face. No hands, either—only shadows that move around the face without reason. Time flows wrong here. Stand before this gate, and you’ll feel like you’ve been waiting all your life for something, but you won’t know what. The longer you stare, the harder it is to remember why you came here at all.

If you touch the clock face, you’ll feel a moment of absolute clarity, like you’ve solved every mystery in the multiverse. But it vanishes the instant you let go, and you’re left feeling more hollow than before. If you press harder, the clock twists you into the space between moments, and suddenly you’re in the Degrazazt, Graz’zt’s personal palace playground of mirrors, silk, and ever-changing desire.

Here, every wall is a reflection of something you once wanted but never had. The floors ripple like liquid obsidian, showing you moments from your life—the lies you told, the loves you lost, the times you walked away when you shouldn’t have. No map works here, because the hallways bend according to your own indecision. Graz’zt’s laughter echoes from everywhere and nowhere at once. If you hear his voice say, “You made the choice, didn’t you?” you’ll feel the weight of every bad choice you’ve ever made pressed onto your back.

How much of your life is lived in the space between decisions? Are you walking forward, or are you being led by the paths you never took? If given the chance, would you make a different choice? And if so, who are you now?

The Copper Wound

Destination: The Cursed Plain of Thanatos (113th layer)

At first, it looks like someone drove a massive copper spike straight into the cliffside. It juts out at a crooked angle, oozing a slick, metallic-smelling fluid that smells like old coins and fresh blood. The spike’s surface is tarnished, green with verdigris, but if you look closely, you’ll see teeth-marks. Something’s been gnawing on it.

Below the spike, the rock is cracked open, forming a long, narrow gash like a torn artery. Don’t touch the blood that seeps from it. It’s cold, colder than it should be, and if you spill it on your skin, it burns like frostbite. The cliff face around it is etched with names of the dead—some in Abyssal, others in tongues no one has spoken for aeons. If you linger too long, you’ll see your own name being being carved into the rock as you watch. And by then it’s too late.

Stepping through the Copper Wound takes you to Thanatos, the Cursed Plain, the frozen necropolis of %@&$£, Prince of Undeath. The ground is a grey-black tundra crusted with frost, but it’s not soil beneath your feet—it’s frozen corpses stacked like bricks. They creak and groan as you walk, and sometimes you hear muffled, distant screams from beneath. The cold here isn’t just temperature—it’s a deathly cold that drains hope. Folk say if you stay too long, your heartbeat slows in rhythm with the pulse of the plane itself. And if you stay that long, you might not leave breathing.

If you hear the crunch of something walking behind you, keep walking. In Thanatos, you’re never alone, but sometimes it’s better if you pretend you are.

The Devouring Door

Destination: Dinnertime

In most cases when beings use a portal within the Grand Abyss and never return it is generally assumed that they met their end as a consequence of their destination. In a disturbingly significant number of cases, this assumption is false. These individuals have instead fallen victim to a creature known as the Devouring Door. The obyrith lord Ugudenk the Squirming King created a vast, wormlike creature that mimicked almost identically one of the valid portals in the Grand Abyss. Physically, it transforms to resemble a portal to another layer and it is able to project images of these locations to lure in potential travellers that get within 100 feet of it [Will save DC 30 to resist], which it promptly consumes. As these images are directly implanted within the minds of potential victims, standard protections against illusions are not effective against them, although mind blank and similar methods are effective if the potential for such deception is detected. The Devouring Door wanders throughout The Grand Abyss with no apparent preference for any particular Vorago. Thus far it has avoided the Guardian of the Gates (who may or may not know of the beast).

The Door of Many Names

Destination: Spirac, the Hunting Grounds (71st layer)

This gate is not a door. It’s a collection of names carved into the cliff face, thousands of them, scrawled in different scripts, scratched in frantic strokes, like each name was a desperate plea to be remembered. Names in Abyssal, Draconic, Elven, and languages older than mortal memory. Stand in front of it, and you’ll feel your own name itching behind your teeth. It wants to be there too. You’ll feel compelled to carve it.

When you scratch your name into the wall, the other names begin to hum. The air grows heavy with the sound of pounding paws on dirt. If you don’t move, you’ll feel a hot, wet breath on your neck. If you step back too late, you’ll be pulled straight into Spirac, the 71st layer, where every shadow hides a predator and every predator is chasing you.

The ground is a forest of sharp briars, tangled with the bones of past prey. Howls fill the air — some distant, some close. They all sound hungry. The Kek’tar Hounds hunt without rest, eyes like black lanterns, jaws lined with rows of crooked teeth. They’ll chase you for sport, but they’ll only kill you if you stop running.

If your name is forgotten, does that mean you never existed?

The Doorway To Obliteration

Destination: Vudra (Layer 531)

When Vuron imprisoned Shaktari in the Wells of Darkness, he understood quite clearly that it was insufficient to merely render her obscure and contained. He needed to also deprive her and those mariliths inclined to follow her of as many resources as possible. One way in which this was accomplished was by heavily trapping the portal to Vudra, Shaktari’s extraordinarily toxic layer, that was located within the Grand Abyss, along with all of its other known entrances. A couple of these other defences have fallen by the wayside through the vagaries of the Abyss as well as Shaktari’s efforts, now that she has been freed. However, the Grand Abyss portal remains a source of infuriating frustration for the klurichir and a menace to those foolish enough to approach it willingly, or do so inadvertently because they were unaware of its history. The traps laid by Vuron have proved so deadly that regardless of what name the portal was originally known by, its infamy have earned it another title instead; one which is best translated from Abyssal as the Doorway to Obliteration.

The Doorway to Obliteration earns its title through both its extreme sensitivity to trespassers and its lethality. Creatures that get within three hundred feet of it trigger its initial response. The gate blinks, and a giant eye can be seen, peering out. A shaft of light emanates from the eye, illuminating the entire area for many times that radius and bathing the unfortunate future victim in its cold, yet intense, glow. Neither invisibility or any type of other protection against divination has so far proved effective at preventing this initial reaction, and it appears to act in the same way regardless of whether or not nearby beings are demonic in nature. Typically demons and other creatures flee as quickly as possible from anyone that has been marked by the Doorway in order to avoid what occurs shortly afterwards.

Five minutes after the Doorway to Obliteration has detected and reacted to a potential trespasser, they are immolated in a brilliant burst of light, taking 60d6 points of disintegration damage [Fortitude save at DC 40 for half damage. Furthermore, not only are they affected, but those beings that are nearby take half of this damage as well, although at the lower DC 20, if they are within 300 feet of the initial target]. The only method so far discerned for avoiding this damage consists of rapidly planeshifting away from the Grand Abyss.

Neither Shaktari nor her servitors have had any success so far in eliminating Vuron’s deathtraps, although they have attacked the problem in various ways. The Doorway to Obliteration us used by the tanar’ri for another purpose instead: providing one of the Grand Abyss’ most reliable ways of annihilating beings that are either diverted near it or deliberately misdirected there so a lethal accident will erase them from existence.

The Fissure of Bones

Destination: Stalkingbones (Layer 112)

It’s just a crack in the rock. Small. Innocuous. A little crack in the wall like you’d see in an old cellar, perhaps. But if you kneel to look through it, you’ll see something strange. A throne room of bone, far away, like you’re looking through a telescope into another world. The longer you watch, the closer it gets. Closer. Closer. Until you feel cold breath on your face.

If you blink, it’s gone. But something follows you after that. The next time you sleep, you’ll dream of that place. The same room. The same throne. And something on it, watching you back. If you return and touch the crack, the wall crumbles into black dust, revealing a passage into Stalkingbones, the ossuary realm.

Its is a crumbling temple made entirely from bones, a mass grave frozen mid-scream. The air bites like knives. The dead walk freely here, not to chase you, but to remind you that you will join them. You’ll see flashes of your own face in every skull—including the faces of every possible “you” that could have died along the way.

Stalkingbones embodies the hunger for legacy, the desire to outlive your own death. What’s scarier: Dying, or being forgotten? How much of your life is spent running from your own death? Would you want to live forever if it meant becoming something monstrous?

The Forbidden Gate

Destination: The Swallowed Void (Layer 68)

One of the best defended portals within the Grand Abyss leads to a layer whose original name and residents have been lost to the mists of time. This is not due to the fact that anything particularly valuable seems to have been contained within the layer as much as it is due to how it was destroyed and who destroyed it. The Swallowed Void is believed to be one of the first layers that was annihilated by Apollyon, the Prince of Destruction.

The destruction of what became known as the Swallowed Void was an event which initially went unnoticed until a deranged cultist of the Dark Angel managed to find a gate to it in the Grand Abyssal some time afterwards. An akrusid horde swarmed into the Grand Abyss, killing thousands of other demons and nearly creating a rift between layers large enough for Apollyon himself to enter the chasm. The effort to destroy the Grand Abyss failed. The akrusids were slaughtered by demonic hordes affiliated with rival demon princes and the portal sealed by the efforts of the Guardian of Gates, as well as a wide array of demons both personally summoned by him or otherwise linked to him in those ancient days before he came to plague the layer. As Apollyon takes no sides in seeking the end of all existence, practically no faction present within the Grand Abyss or for that matter, beyond it, has any interest whatsoever in seeing the portal open once more and letting the akrusid swarms of Apollyon be unleashed throughout the Grand Abyss or Pazunia. After that day, virtually every demon prince, demon lord, and atrocity that made use of the Grand Abyss or what lay beneath it agreed upon one issue: The Forbidden Gate should never be opened again.

The result is a situation in which multiple Abyssal Lords have placed layers of traps upon the door in order to keep it from ever being opened. Upon several occasions emissaries have even been sent to the Guardian of Gates in order to try and convince it to keep watch over this particular door over all others. However, the horrible deaths that have come to all such representatives have disabused all demons, even Graz’zt, from making any further attempts. Currently, there are at least ten different layers of traps upon the door, each appearing as a slightly different door which only becomes active when the previous layer of traps is bypassed. Among the more notable of them are the following:

The most recently applied layer of protections was created by one of the most otherwise intransigent demon princes with regards to most of the other powers of the Abyss: Lolth. In her rage after Apollyon destroyed a Prime world with several of her favorite priestesses (and whose denizens she had been manipulating towards their destruction for millenia), Lolth has placed multiple unique curses the portal aimed against anyone who sets foot on the portal’s platform. This trap has two immediate effects that it summons bebiliths, and curses the victim with a weakness to their attacks.

[Once every 1d4 rounds after the portal is approached, an enormous (24 HD) bebilith will appear within 100 feet of it. By itself, this would not appear to be exceptionally dangerous save for the fact that proximity also triggers a devastating curse (Will save DC 40 to resist). Not only do the summoned bebiliths attack any creature near the portal, dragging them off through planeshifting to devour them, but the victims are permanently penalised with a -4 penalty on both their armour class and saves against bebiliths, with a Will save DC 40 to resist this effect. Furthermore, they also attract bebiliths for the rest of their most likely drastically shortened lives, with all bebiliths within a 6600 foot radius forced to make a Will save DC 40 or else be compelled to travel to the cursed victims and attack them as well.]

All elements of this curse can only be eliminated with a wish or miracle spell, but Lolth will send her yochlol handmaidens after any poor fools that both survive these curses or have them lifted—as well as anyone with the audacity to challenge the Demon Queen of Spiders in her wrath by assisting such wretches.

The Prince of Undead has taken a similar approach, with a trap that summons a horde of undead. [The portal trap he has placed also summons creatures, causing a new array of undead to arrive once every 1d4 rounds as the spell summon undead IX. Even if these creatures are defeated, once every 8 rounds, the trap that &*%£$ has laid also emits a massive wave of negative energy which deals 30d6 points of damage to all creatures within 100 feet of the door and forces a secondary Fort save DC 40 for half damage, both healing any surviving undead that are adjacent and further damaging any beings foolish enough to defy Orcus’ will.]

The gate to the Swallowed Void is located on the Lower Vorago of Hag’s Rock and the bridge connecting it to the other side was destroyed during the original battle to reseal it. The landing for flying creatures has been spiked with twenty cold iron and mithral spines that are wickedly barbed. [These magically sprout up to twenty feet away from the landing during a single round and impale creatures that approach them, with a DC 25 Reflex save to avoid them and dealing 6d6 points of damage per round and per spine. Its appearance beyond a 50 foot radius has been obscured by multiple layers of illusions and anti-divinatory spells cast by the same atrocities and demon princes that have trapped the portal. Outside of this radius the landing is not even visible. Divinations will refuse to recognise either the proximity of the portal or provide any answers as to its status or existence except upon a successful caster level check DC 50.]

The Furnace of Hearts

Destination: The Realm of Azzagrat (Layers 45-47)

The Furnace is a rusted iron door set low in the cliff wall, like a furnace hatch in a blacksmith’s forge. It’s hot to the touch, and the metal is marked with thousands of fingerprints pressed into the surface, some fresh, some seared black. Somehow, they all look desperate. Occasionally, steam bursts from the edges, reeking of sweat and roses. If you place your hand on the metal, you’ll feel an undeniable warmth—comforting, safe, irresistible. The door pulses with heat, and you’ll feel the sudden, inexplicable urge to confess every shameful thing you’ve done in the name of love.

Push the door open, and you’ll stumble into a golden-hued pleasure palace of Azzagrat. Graz’zt’s halls of decadence twist like a labyrinth of velvet, gold, and flesh. Music follows you—soft, sweet, familiar. It plays the song of every love you ever lost. Every face you see looks like someone you once adored but could never have. The air smells of longing and skin after rain. Here, everything you ever craved in love is offered freely—but every embrace leaves you emptier than before.

Do you crave love itself, or the idea of it? How many times have you burned yourself trying to be worthy of love? If love were a trap, would you still walk into it if it felt good enough?

The Gallows Arch

Destination: The Gallant Gallows (Layer 109)

It’s a stone archway, simple at first glance. No glowing runes. No screaming faces. Just two weathered stone pillars with a lintel across the top. The only odd thing is the noose hanging from the centre, swaying as if moved by an unseen breeze. Sometimes, there are several nooses, each one perfectly knotted, perfectly waiting.

If you walk under it, you’ll feel it tighten around your throat—even if it never touches you. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. You’ll see flashes of faces hanging from ropes, mouths still moving in a silent chant. Most folk turn back before they hear what the chant is saying. The smart ones, anyway.

The Gallows Arch leads to The Gallant Gallows, a realm where traitors and oathbreakers are hunted down for eternity. The whole place is a twisted maze of hanging corpses and gallows-trees that bloom with rotting fruit shaped like heads. The air is full of wet creaks—rope stretching, straining, and the soft thump of a body dropping.

The dead here don’t rest. They kick. They twitch. They whisper riddles through swollen tongues. If you ever agree to solve one, they’ll offer to “trade places” with you. Folk who go in too deep are found later, hanging by their ankles, their faces frozen in a grin too wide for their skull.

If you see your own shadow hanging from the Gallows Arch, walk away fast. The shadow’s just waiting for you to stop long enough for it to take your place.

The Gate of Dancing Chains

Destination: Torturous Truth (Layer 57)

Although Alvarez, the Demon Lord of Torment, is largely itinerant through the Abyss as he seeks more victims, his armies have grown sufficiently vast for him to control a layer in his absence. Originally belonging to a minor qlippothic atrocity, a portal to it can be found in the Grand Abyss. The key is a physical representation of suffering which must be destroyed upon the platform, and the entrance to Torturous Truth is an arched, iron doorway ten feet tall around which spiked metal chains are wrapped. One of the most alarming elements of the entrance to Torturous Truth is that it does seem to possess some degree of sentience to the point where it detects beings that alight upon the landing to enter it. If they do not scream to enter the portal of their own volition within a minute of close proximity, the entrance can create dancing chains that implant themselves in the flesh of beings upon the portal, dragging them towards to door and squeezing into their flesh until they are ground into nothing and their dying screams open the portal without any wilful effort. The gate is found in the Upper Vorago of Precipit.

The Gate of Screaming Worms

Destination: Shedaklah (Layer 222) 

This gate looks like a simple hole in the cliff face, at least until you get near to it. Then, out of the darkness, lurch the horrible, writhing forms of countless worms, twisting and turning. Even worse, you can hear something screaming from inside the worm morass, like something’s been trapped, tormented and forgotten for centuries.

There’s no key for this gate, you just need to jump into the wormgate. You’ll feel the wet clammy things all around you, suffocating you, and then just as you start to scream, suddenly, you’re standing in Shedaklah, the Rotting Realm of Juiblex. Is it any better? Not really—everything here seeps. There are mushrooms as tall as towers. There are pools of black-green sludge that burble like stomach acid. The air is humid and rotten, and every breath feels like a mouthful of soggy bread. Juiblex’s pudding-minions might rise from the slime, their featureless faces stretching toward you, whispering for you to “stay and grow with us.” People who’ve walked this realm say they didn’t notice the spores on their skin until weeks later. By then, it’s too late.

If your breath feels thick after leaving, don’t go to sleep. They say that’s when the mushrooms start growing in your lungs.

Hallucination Gate, the

Destination: The Abyss of Ancient History

One of the most bizarre portals within the Grand Abyss does not lead to another location within the Abyss as much as it leads into a fragment of time itself. This portal was named the Hallucination Gate by the first tanar’ri and mortals to discover it, and it was one of the many innovations of Cabiri at a time when the qlippothim were both stronger and far more numerous than the present.

Peering into the Hallucination Gate allows those who use it to have a brief vision of the Grand Abyss as it once existed during the qlippothic domination. As esoteric a power as this may seem, it has in fact proved invaluable both to the surviving qlippothim as well as their enemies, when the former attempt to reclaim layers that may have been lost or become inaccessible after Madness and Bile, while the latter seek to expand to new layers and territories.

[Suggested D&D 3.5e/PF1e rules: The visions of the Hallucination Gate provide a +10 profane bonus on Knowledge (the planes) and Spellcraft checks in order to identify the proper functioning of any Grand Abyss gate, and a +4 bonus on caster level checks when casting either divinations or planar spells towards the end of opening one. However, as befitting the bizarre and lethal ‘blessings’ of Cabiri, those visions provided by the hallucination gate eventually prove fatally detrimental to their beneficiaries if a Will save (DC 30) is failed while attempting to use it. The initial symptoms of Hallucination Gate insanity appear as visual overlays that grow more distracting and disturbing. These are accompanied by phantom telepathic noises, inflicting a cumulative -1 penalty to visual and auditory Perception-based checks as well as 1d4 points of Wisdom damage per day.]

After a time, the visions of the Grand Abyss as it existed in the past come to completely overwhelm the senses and memories of the being who used it in the present. The ultimate result is a self-withdrawn state of insanity not unlike the solipsism spell, except far more difficult to eliminate. The mental damage inflicted by the Hallucination Gate can only be cured in an reality untainted by chaos, and tanar’ri are just as vulnerable to it as mortals. Normal protections against mind-affecting effects are sufficient to prevent damage, however, but they also render a being incapable of acquiring the dubious benefits of its ancient knowledge. It is only through the risk of madness that insight can be gained. Qlippothim are an exception to this rule and can use the Hallucination Gate without a required sacrifice or other troubles.

The hallucination gate is located on the Hag’s Rock side of the Grand Abyss and in the Lower Vorago. It possesses no platform whatsoever. It instead has a couple of clawholds and apertures hewn out of the rock and designed for the anatomies of creatures that were very different from the tanar’ri—much less mortal forms. Flight and spells which animate rope or other attachment devices are common means of holding oneself in place while the portal is accessed. Activating the Hallucination Gate requires telepathic contact.

The Hungerer

Destination: That Hellhole (Layer 10)

This “arch” is made from jagged rows of teeth, big as scythes. Not stone, not bone—just teeth. No gums. No mouth. Just teeth growing from the cliff wall in a wide, crooked arch. You’ll hear a faint grinding noise, and if you’re brave enough to stand in front of it, you’ll notice the teeth are slowly gnashing together. Just a little. Like they’re chewing air that tastes of you.

If you walk through, you’ll feel every tooth scrape your skin without cutting it. You’ll swear something is whispering in your ear, saying, “You could have been more than you are. If only you were willing to be consumed.”

How much of yourself are you willing to lose to become what you desire? If you met the “better” version of yourself, would you still call it you? How many parts of yourself have you already fed to the world?

The Laughing Arch

Destination: The Endless Maze (Layer 600)

This one is hard to miss. It’s an archway of bone, crooked and uneven, held together by tendons that stretch taut like violin strings. From a distance, it sounds like music—eerie, high-pitched notes that slide into one another ike a lunatic playing a fiddle. But as you approach, the “music” resolves into something else. It’s not music. It’s laughter.

It starts as a chuckle, but the closer you get, the more voices join in. Cackling. Barking. Wheezing, snorting, guttural howls. If you step through, it feels like you’re stepping into a wolf’s mouth—the “teeth” of the arch scrape your skin, and suddenly, you’re in the Endless Maze. It’s not like any maze yo’ve seen before. The walls aren’t stone or hedge, they’re muscle and bone, with twists and bends that shift while you walk. You’ll hear beasts snarling, breathing heavily, sometimes right behind you, but there’s nothing there.

Somewhere, Baphomet is hunting. Always hunting. Sometimes, he lets you think you’ve escaped, just to hear your scream when you realise you haven’t. And if you hear his hoofsteps behind you, don’t bother running. It’s already too late.

The Maw of Klesh’gorr

Destination: The Wasting Fields (Layer 136)

This one looks like a mouth frozen mid-scream, but not in stone. It’s flesh. Real, rotting flesh. Lips cracked and bloated with seeping blisters, teeth jagged like broken tombstones. The gums are black and bleeding, with strings of yellow slime hanging like the drippings of an old candle. Its breath? Oh, you’ll smell it before you see it—spoiled meat and something acidic, like vinegar left out too long. The closer you get, the stronger it pulls at your stomach, like an undertow in the air itself.

Where does it lead? The Wasting Fields, a layer of the Abyss where every living thing is in a state of perpetually dying. You’ll see creatures wandering with their own innards dragging behind them like tattered robes. Even the trees there blister with cysts that burst and spill foul ichor. And the worst part? It gets in you. Every breath you take in the Wasting Fields leaves a little piece of it behind. Scabs on your skin. A foul taste on your tongue. You might leave the Fields, but they never really leaves you.

Oh, and if you hear moaning from the Maw, run. It only moans when it’s hungry.

Don’t go near it if you like your shape the way it is.

The Mirror That Bleeds

Destination: The Lair of the Beast and the Mansion of the Rake (Layer 487)

At first, you won’t even see it. It just looks like a smooth section of obsidian cliff face. But get closer, and you’ll realise it reflects you perfectly—clearer than any mirror you’ve ever seen. Not just your face, but your fears, your regrets, your worst mistakes staring back at you like a scar you forgot you had.

It doesn’t stop at reflections. Sometimes it shows you things that haven’t happened yet. Not “might happen”—will happen. Folk have seen their own deaths, their betrayals, even the look on their face when they realise they’re about to lose everything. And if you see your reflection crying when you’re not? Get away. Fast. That’s when the Mirror wants you.

Step through it, and you’ll find yourself in the domain of Valthirix, the Lord of Inevitability, one of the lesser demon lords of fate and doom and an inhabitant of the Lair of the Beast and Mansion of the Rake. His realm is a series of infinite corridors of glass and black water, where you see every possible version of your future walking alongside you. You can hear them, their footsteps echoing, even if you’re alone. Some of those futures beg you for help. Others offer deals. But if you so much as talk to them, you’ll end up as one of them. Another lost version of yourself, pacing corridors forever.

If you ever see a crack form in the Mirror, run. That’s not a crack. That’s it opening its eye.

It shows you the truth, and if you’re smart, you’ll run before it asks you to stay.

The Pathless Gate

Destination: Cogerron (Layer 444)

The most frequently accessed portal to Cogerron exists within the Grand Abyss. It first appeared in the vast chasm shortly after the end of the Second War of Law and Chaos, and seems to have been discovered by Abraxas shortly afterwards. However, as Abraxas wished to keep all knowledge of Cogerron to himself (even denying his ‘allies’ among the other klurichir knowledge of it), the Demon Prince of Mysteries did his best to obscure both the location of the gate as well as the means by which it could be entered.

The Pathless Gate is distinctive through the incredibly elaborate drawings and markings carved into the stone surrounding it. These provide a vital hint as to how to open the portal, which is otherwise an iron wall without crevice or joints, and is otherwise nigh-unassailable. The portal key consists of the drawings themselves-which when looked at from the right angle, form a vast labyrinthine image. Whenever they are expanded by those wishing to enter Cogerron from the Grand Abyss, then the portal itself opens, allowing such beings ingress. As with many such portals, there is a significant and lethal trick to operating it correctly. Any additions to the labyrinth-drawings must significantly make the drawing in its entirety more complex and more difficult to solve.

[D&D 3.5e/PF1e Rules: Failing to add to the complexity of the drawing forces the beings making the attempt to make a Fort save DC 35. Those who do not succeed at making this save are trapped in the drawings as the spell imprisonment and the labyrinth redrawn slightly in order to record their durance. Making the save instead does no outwards harm to the potential victim, but also renders them incapable of using the portal for the next 1d6 days without accidentally being sent to a random layer of the Abyss instead.]

Although vital, it possesses no immediately threatening guardians located upon the platform. However, it is monitored by a blackstone gigant [Fiend Folio] from an adjacent platform. It was placed there shortly after the Pathless Gate was first discerned to have been opened by a wide array of Abyssal powers, leading many to suspect that either Abraxas or one of his minions during the height of his power was responsible both for its construction and placement. However, it has been effectively subverted by Vuron, and will either follow beings leaving through the Pathless Gate to other destinations throughout the Grand Abyss, or will try and kill them in order to take anything for the Alabaster Demon instead, if they are sufficiently weak.

The Rusted Keyhole

Destination: The Cabinet of the Nameless One (Layer 270)

At first, it’s just a rusty keyhole in the side of the cliff. No frame, no door, just a keyhole carved into bare stone. Look in, and you’ll see an eye looking back at you. That’s when you hear the click-click-click of tumblers shifting. It’s trying to turn you.

The Rusted Keyhole doesn’t lead to a layer as such. It leads to The Cabinet of the Nameless One, a pocket-realm filled with every wrong version of yourself. See, every decision you’ve ever made gets “stored” somewhere, and every failure, every missed chance, every bad version of you that could have been—they all end up in this Cabinet. It’s like looking at an army of doppelgangers, except they’re all you, but hungrier, meaner, and more desperate.

The worst part is, if you stay too long, one of them gets out. You won’t know which one. But folk who’ve seen this gate unlock say they don’t come back alone.

Tip: If you see your reflection smiling when you aren’t, run. The copy’s already loose.

The Scuttlegate

Destination: Descolada (Layer 2)

The Scuttlegate is a nightmarish structure that roams the Grand Abyss, its long spider-like legs allowing it to climb and creep along the sheer cliff faces of the layer. This mobile arachnid-fortress houses a gate to the second layer of the Abyss, known as the Driller’s Hive, an infested realm of insectoid horrors.

The tower’s purpose seems to be both predatory and evasive. It stalks planewalkers, using its mobility to ambush unsuspecting travellers. However, it also flees from larger threats, scuttling away when powerful demons or other formidable entities approach. The tower seems to parasitically “feed” on the fear, and souls of those it captures, much like the vermin and parasites of its connected layer. The tower’s design likely incorporates elements from both the Grand Abyss and the Driller’s Hives, creating a disturbing fusion of demonic and insectoid aesthetics. Whether it was created here deliberately, or whether it escaped from the Driller’s Hives, nobody knows.

The Stitched Gate

Destination: Flesh Pits (Layer 467)

It looks like a ragged wound torn into the cliff, stitched shut with thick black cord. The cord twitches as if being pulled from the other side, too slow to see but always shifting, always tugging. The stone around it is discoloured with bloodstains—old blood, dried in streaks as if something had been dragged in against its will. Sometimes, you’ll hear it. Not voices, not footsteps. Snipping sounds. Like scissors.

No one’s quite sure who first stitched it shut, but the cord isn’t rope — it’s sinew. Worse, it sometimes unthreads itself if you stare too long. One loop undone, then another, until the wound gapes. If it opens all the way, you’ll see a black corridor of fleshy walls that pulse like a throat. It leads to the Flesh Pits, a layer of the Abyss where every surface is soft, wet, and full of warmth that isn’t for you. The air smells like sweat and afterbirth. Every noise echoes with a muffled, underwater quality, like you’re trapped inside something that’s alive and listening.

The Womb is known for birthing horrors—not beasts, but ideas. Thoughts you never had before. Paranoia. Obsessions. You’ll leave with your mind changed, though you won’t notice it until later, when you suddenly feel the need to pull on a thread in your own sleeve until it unravels.

If you hear something snip-snipping behind you, don’t look back. You’ll see her. And if you see her, she’ll see you too.

Who sews a door shut and leaves the needle behind?

The Stone That Weeps Blood

Destination: The Barrens of Doom and Despair (103rd layer)

There’s nothing special about the stone at first glance. It’s just a flat wall of grey-black basalt. But every minute or so, a single red tear seeps from a crack near the top, slowly dribbling down the face of the stone like blood on cold marble. If you watch it, you’ll feel a strange sorrow settle on your heart. Not grief. No, it’s worse. It’s the feeling of unrealised potential, the weight of every ‘almost’ you’ve ever lived through.

If you lick the blood drop, it tastes like salt and copper, but it stays on your tongue long after you’ve swallowed. Planewalkers say the taste reminds you of the biggest regret of your life. If you then press your hand to the crack, you’ll feel a hollow thump, like a heartbeat that’s slowed to the point of stopping. If you listen long enough, you’ll hear a voice muttering behind the wall. It’s your own voice, repeating all the untrue things you tell yourself at night when you think you’re alone.

Push harder, and you’ll be dragged through into the Barrens of Doom and Despair—a dead, cracked plain where the sky is a perpetual red dusk that never turns to night. The ground crunches like broken glass. Shadows of long-forgotten kings and warlords drift aimlessly here, their faces twisted in disbelief as they stare at their own hands, still expecting crowns. Their regrets follow them like hungry dogs. The horizon is always just a little too far away, and if you run toward it, you’ll find that no matter how fast you go, you’re moving slower than you should be.

How many of your regrets are ghosts you’ve never buried?
If you were shown every chance you missed,
would you feel like a prisoner in your own life?

The Thorn-Crowned Mirror

Destination: Shaddonon (49th Layer)

The gate is a broken, stained-glass lantern, its glass shattered into fragments that hang in midair, spinning slowly like dead leaves caught in a breeze. You’ll see your shadow cast by every fragment, but none of them match. Some are older. Some are younger. Some wear crowns. Some wear chains. But one of them — just one — looks at you with absolute hatred. It knows you, it sees you, and worse still, it looks like it’s waiting for you to step closer.

When you do, the shards spin faster, slicing the air into ribbons. If you walk through, you feel a dozen tiny cuts on your soul—not your flesh, your soul. On the other side is Shaddonon, a forest of eternal darkness place where shadows walk freely. Every one shows not what you are, but what you could have been if you’d been crueler, smarter, or braver. The shadows detatch from the trees and follow you. They never speak, but they watch you as if you’re the shadow, not them. If you linger here too long, you’ll start to believe it too—that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one that’s temporary. After all, you’re the mortal, and your corpse will continue to cast a shadow after you’re long gone.

Tinea Corporis

Destination: Shedaklah (Layer 222)

The elimination of the klurichir (for the most part) as a threat to Zuggtmoy liberated her to direct more of her efforts, unfortunately, towards restoring her influence upon the Mortal Coil. One element of this scheme consisted of making her layer more accessible while also ensuring that it could not easily be invaded. The gate to her part of Shedaklah is a minor, if disturbing, reflection of this ambition. As compared to Zuggtmoy’s mobile and predatory fortress upon Pazunia, the gateway to Shedaklah is comparatively easy to open. It is made of a unique species of Abyssal fungus that pulsates and writhes, irregularly growing and shrinking. As the portal was created during the time in which Zuggtmoy was influenced by and in turn influenced the Cults of Elemental Evil, it is accessible through casting any elemental spell that has been corrupted or otherwise marred by evil (such as causing it to do vile damage, or using an wicked spell component such as a soul or bile).

While deceptively simple in form and function, the portal is also alive and somewhat sentient. It is capable of knowing which travellers have previously transgressed against the Fungal Crone and acting against them. This is accomplished by inflicting upon them horrible and semi-sentient contagions which first infects with fungal ringworm and eventually liquefies those foolish enough to provoke her wrath. [D&D 3.5/PF1e Rules: The attacks of the Tinea Corporis portal are treated as breath weapons with an 80 ft. range, which encompassed not just the platform itself, but the surrounding region too, and a DC 40 Fortitude saving throw is required in order to resist these diseases.]

Furthermore, the semi-sentience of the portal enables it to detect which creatures are and are not infected by its defences. It adapts by blasting potential intruders with different diseases until one or more are found against which opponents are vulnerable. Initially, such diseases are only those that are relatively common. However, for particularly persistent or menacing intruders, the diseases take effect more rapidly after 5 minutes, and after 10 minutes of intrusion the portal will begin attacking with epic diseases.

The Two-Faced Gate

Destination: Dispersion (Layer 93)

One of the more bizarre and treasured layers controlled by Demogorgon is Dispersion. Its value to the Devourer of Souls consists of its ability to dismantle virtually all creatures foolish enough to enter the layer into their components—their minds, their anatomy, and even fragments of their souls—and then allowing whoever controls the layer to reassemble them in far more bizarre ways. Through such means, Dispersion has proved an invaluable tool to the Devourer of Souls as he continues to create artifacts, new forms of life, and even new forms of demons, as well as and destroying its rivals. The Two-Faced Gate can be opened by a being that is simultaneously in two physically distinct places at once, or otherwise possesses a multiplicity of mindsets. Its protections include a magical device prototypical to the retrievers in that it projects an array of devastating eye-rays against opponents [Dealing 15d8 points of damage each time it is triggered of either fire, cold, electricity, or acid; Reflex save DC 30] The device also senses which, if any, attacks have been successful against opponents; if none of them are successful then within 1-4 rounds it alerts the denizens of Gaping Maw of the attacks against it unless it is otherwise stopped or bypassed.

While Dispersion is an apparently fairly old layer, the portal is located on the Hag’s Rock cliff of the Upper Vorago—as typical for the Abyss, it defies any logical rules. Although there was once a bridge connecting the Dispersion portal to another on the Precipit cliff, it was apparently destroyed in ancient times. There is no current evidence that there was ever a door on the other side—or for that matter, that there was ever a battle or other conflict in which it was destroyed.

The Veil of Swarming Glass

Destination: The Demonweb Pits (layer 66)

This gate looks innocent from a distance—a shimmering, delicate curtain of what appears to be glass threads strung between two crags of the cliff face. It reflects light in dazzling prisms, throwing off glittering rainbows like something beautiful, something harmless. Closer inspection though shows the “threads” are moving, writhing slowly, as if breathing.

If you touch it, you’ll see your reflection shift, and suddenly you’re on the other side, tangled in it. Your skin will crawl because it is literally crawling. Tiny black specks—no, spiders—begin to move under your skin, threading through your veins like silk in a loom. And that shimmering glass? It’s spiderweb as sharp as razors. You’ll be cut, bitten, and pulled in at the same time.

Pass through the Veil, and you’ll find yourself in the Demonweb Pits, where every surface is webbing, and every shadow hides eight-legged nightmares. Don’t trust any ‘solid’ surface, for just about anything might give way beneath you.

You’ll feel them before you see them—thousands of tiny legs scurrying at the edge of your senses. Stay too long, and you might feel something nesting in your skull. Planewalkers who’ve come back report dreaming of egg sacs behind their eyes.

If you hear skittering behind you in the Pits, and you’re sure it’s not an echo of your own feet, don’t look back. Lolth loves it when you look back.

The Whispering Fissure

Destionation: Zenador, the Forgotten Land (3rd Layer)

At first, it looks like a crack in the rock. A shallow fissure. But if you listen closely, you’ll hear rustling. Stand close enough, and you’ll hear whispers inside the crack, faint and scratchy like quills on parchment. The voices sound like people you know—old friends, enemies, lovers—but they’re saying things you were never meant to hear. They confess their betrayals, their fears, their deepest secrets. Your name comes up. A lot.

If you lean in too close, the crack opens like a jagged mouth, lined with tiny stone teeth. It won’t bite you. It’ll just breathe on you. The air that comes out smells like wet leaves and rotting books. If you step inside, you’ll hear one last whisper in your ear—it’s your own voice, but it’s saying something you’ve never told anyone. You’ll wonder how it knew. Then you’re gone, pulled into Zenador, a swamp of forgetfulness choked with black vines and lantern-lit trees that drip with bloodsap.

These are just a few of the gates. Don’t assume they’re all marked. Most don’t look like doors. Some are eyes, mouths, or wounds. And some are already inside you.

Source: Jon Winter-Holt and Layers of the Abyss — material adapted from the excellent netbook authored by Eli Atkinson, Will Church, Serge W. Desir Jr., Marley Sage Gable, John Harris, Sam Peer, Adam Silva-Miramon, Sean Surface