The Hanging Gardens
Location: Abyss / Layer 4—Grand Abyss / Upper Vorago
The Hanging Gardens are an unusually beautiful part of the Grand Abyss, but as any seasoned planewalker knows that in the Abyss, beauty means something is wrong. The gardens are a breathtaking vertical labyrinth of cascading greenery, suspended from the sheer rock faces of the chasm. From a distance, it appears as an idyllic paradise, with vibrant flowers, lush vines, and shimmering waterfalls spilling into the void. Once you’re inside the gardens (and it’s too late) however, closer inspection reveals their true nature: Vines twist into hangman’s nooses that sway ominously in the Abyssal wind, and blossoms conceal rows of needle-like thorns dripping with venom. The air is thick with a cloying floral scent that masks the stench of decay and makes mortals who smell it oh so sleepy. The gardens are alive with faint whispers and groans—whether from the wind or the suffering of past victims is unclear. The surreal beauty of this place is a trap, designed to lure and then punish those foolish enough to enter.
The vegetation here is both beautiful and deadly, each plant a macabre celebration of death and punishment. Executioner’s Orchids are stunning flowers that glow with hypnotic patterns that compel creatures to approach. They release clouds of paralytic spores once their victims are in range and then reach out with their roots to ensnare and strangle their prey. Widow’s Ivy is a creeping vine of lush green waxy leaves studded with twinkling white flowers, that looks strong enough to climb safely—but tightens like a garrotte when grasped. Griefwillows are clinging trees with drooping branches that secrete acidic sap that drips like tears, dissolving anything they touch into nutrients for their roots. Snapdragons are carnivorous flowers that resemble floral dragon heads; they snap shut on anything that brushes against them, secreting a digestive acid that burns like fire. If victims try and avoid them, the flowers retaliate by breathing 15′ cones of flame at them instead. Virus Roses also bloom here in great numbers.
Chant goes this place was originally cultivated by an ancient tanar’ri lord obsessed with retribution—but also aesthetics—why should a place of execution be ugly after all? They’re long dead now but the current keeper of the Garden is a lilitu tanar’ri called Olrakil. Lilitu love to lure mortals into sin and are master of mocking the divine. This cutter has curated her Hanging Garden as a demonic parody of the beautiful gardens of Abellio in Arcadia, to torment her victims in elaborate ways and to beautify the Abyss in mockery of mortal ideals of paradise. The Abyss with its typical sense of humour has seen fit to ensure that since she is blind—like all lilitu, she will never be able to enjoy the beauty of the garden herself. Olrakil herself is a slender tanar’ri who wears flowers in her hair and a garland of poisonous blooms.
The plant life of the Hanging Gardens isn’t the only danger here. The gardens are tended by a unique kind of tanar’ri, called the aconalith, or Verdant Reaper. These demonic gardeners believe suffering if the ultimate fertiliser for growth and that a beautiful death is an art form. Their philosophy, ‘Pain blooms eternal’ drives them to perfect new forms of lethal flora, cultivated to maximise the harm they can cause, while maintaining their beauty.
The Hanging Gardens would prove perilous for even for a seasoned druid. The flowers and plants here are malevolent, reacting to movement with predatory precision. The Verdant Reapers patrol the gardens, pruning intruders as they would weeds. Despite its dangers, some come here willingly: tanar’ri assassins seeking rare poisons, brave planar scholars studying Abyssal botany, or thrill-seeking Sensates daring to traverse its treacherous paths. Visitors are warned to tread carefully; in the Hanging Gardens, beauty wears death’s most seductive perfume.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt, this location is a homebrew addition to Abyssal lore. Lilitu stats (PF1) can be found here.
