Shadowdust
Dust / Wasting Place
Shadowdust, cutter, now there’s a burg that’ll twist your brain-box in knots. It’s where the quasielemental plane of Dust gets all cozy-like with the demiplane of Shadow—or the Shadowfell, or whatever they call it these days—mixin’ up in a dance of dark illusions and gritty truths, part one thing, part another, and all things confusin’.
In Shadowdust, the line between what’s real and what’s not ain’t just blurred—it’s downright obliterated. You’ll find the ground beneath your feet as reliable as a ladder in Limbo. One moment, it’s solid; the next, it’s a cloud of lies. Light and darkness don’t mean much here; they’re just different shades of deception.
As you step into Shadowdust, the first thing that hits you is the surreal landscape. Buildings don’t just stand; they float, drift, and sometimes flicker in and out of existence like ghosts in the night. Structures made from what seems like solid dust, constantly shifting and changing, rise up only to crumble away in the blink of an eye, as if they’re being simultaneously created and destroyed by some unseen cosmic hand.
The streets, if you can call them that, are like rivers of shadow, flowing and swirling around your feet. They lead you in directions that defy logic, turning upside down or looping back on themselves in impossible ways. Walking here feels like navigating a dream, where each step might take you somewhere entirely unexpected.
The sky above is a battle of twilight. It’s as if a sun and moon decided to share the sky, only the jealous moon constantly eclipsed the sun, casting an eerie luminescence that makes everything appear both illuminated and obscured. In this half-light, the shadows dance, and some of them are alive.
And the inhabitants of Shadowdust? They’re as enigmatic as their home. Figures made of dust and shade, they move with an ethereal grace, appearing solid one moment and translucent the next. Conversing with them is like trying to hold a conversation with a mirage – their words and even their very beings seem to slip through the grasp of comprehension.
The berk Zumuzst (planar shadow mephit/shadow fiend (?) [he/him] / NE) claims he’s the high-up of Shadowdust, the Master, if you will. But ask around, and you’ll hear all sorts of tales. Some say he’s a mephit of shadow, or a shadow demon cut off from the Abyss. Others whisper he’s a shade, a ghostly figure born of darkness. And then there are those who reckon he’s just a pawn, a marionette dancin’ on the strings of the yikaria, creatures known for their sly ways. The truth of Zumuzst, like everything else in Shadowdust, is as clear as mud. In this realm, being one thing or another ain’t so straightforward. It’s a place where identities and certainties are as fleeting as dust in the wind.
The locals of the burg anre always up to some scheme or another, as ambiguous as the burg they call home. Plotting and planning, their machinations are as opaque as the realm itself. If Dust had a dark side, it’s this place
Adventure hooks:
- The Shadow’s Core: Rumours tell of an ancient artifact hidden in Shadowdust that controls the balance between light and dark, and the speed of entropy itself. Is darkness merely the absence of light, or something more profound? The artifact doesn’t control balance; it is a mirror, reflecting the inner balance of those who seek it.
- The Shadowdust Convergence: Once in a millennium, Shadowdust experiences a convergence, a moment where the boundaries between shadow, dust, and reality blur completely. The adventurers are drawn into this event, tasked with ensuring the convergence doesn’t tear the fabric of the plane apart. As they journey, they tumble to the idea that entropy and shadow are not just destructive forces but also creators of new possibilities and realities.
Source: Rip van Wormer, Jon Winter-Holt, mimir.net
