The World of Darkness
The realm of Ptahil and his allies
Location: Outlands / Splinterlands / Perdition / World of Darkness (allegedly)
After Ptahil was disappointed in his creation, he fled Tibil and established his realm… somewhere. Some reckon it’s in the Underdark of Tibil, others point to some forgotten demiplane or an Abyssal layer. Apparently, there’s something about the place that makes it hard for living mortals to access it. Cutters who take Cordant Planes seriously argue that it’s actually the plane that others call Perdition, which is located between the Outlands and the Abyss. This does seem probable, as the World of Darkness is located in some sprawling cave system.
Matartas and the Way of the Soul
Almost everyone who enters the World of Darkness does so by sailing or walking along the Hitfun (or Siniawis, as it is called here). At the large grotto, where the river dives down beneath the ground, all visitors are interrogated by Nbaz (nakta uthra / [they/them] / CN), a fallen nakta uthra. They are clad in rocky armour and are referred to as “The Great Anvil of the Earth”. It isn’t known why or how they fell or if they even did—chant goes, Nbaz is actually a spy of the uthras, placed there to keep an eye on Ptahil. Nbaz acts as the guardian of the first matarta. It’s their task to dispose of petitioners who were erroneously send to sail on Shahrat, and sods clearly unfit for any kind of enlightenment, such as overtly chaotic and evil souls and those, who’ve demonstrably acted against Hayyi Rabbi. Nbaz’s demeanour changes quite often: sometimes they’ll teleport wayward petitioners to the destination they deserve, sometimes they’ll just throw them off the boat, or occasionally they’ll even eat them! It is said that the correct kind of food prepared at funerals rites is able to calm him down, so if you’re a petitioner you’d better hope your surviving relatives follow the customs.
After passing Nbaz, the Shahrat sails towards the next guardian station. There you’ll be met by Zan-Hazazban, a strange tree-like creature of unknown origins, whose branches and vines extend above encircling the Hitfun like an archway. It may be a rogue or a spying gufna, a weirdly friendly tanar’ri, some kind of ancient wood elemental or perhaps something else entirely. Zan-Hazazban can actually be helpful—it puts klila wreaths on petitioners’ heads. These wreaths protect them from dangers ahead, but be warned, Zan-Hazazban might refuse to grant them to petitioners if they weren’t devoted enough to their faith, or they engaged in wanton violence. It also snatches away the souls of children who have died in the womb, or before they could be baptised. These souls live in its canopy for thirty days, and then get teleported right to the Last Matarta.
After this interlude, the World of Darkness proper begins. It can be thought of as an upper layer, where the River Hitfun flows, and the lower pits. The Third Matarta is ruled by Himun, a renegade cambion lord-general ([he/him] / CN). It turns out the World of Darkness is a hiding place for all kinds of rogue planar races, from good tanar’ri to chaotic archons. Himun fancies himself to be a ruler of neutral and good-aligned renegades in opposition to the loathsome creatures of the Lower Pits, but since most of his “subjects” are chaotic like he himself, this coalition doesn’t seem to have much power. In fact, the main thing that keeps every denizen of the World of Darkness in line is their profound disinterest in each other. Sure, some of them obsessively plan their return and revenge, but most just brood and hide from their foes. Himun is one of the latter—chant goes he was once an esteemed general of the Blood War, until he got tired and resentful of carnage and of tanar’ri ways overall. Himun turned stag and found his kip under the wing of Ptahil. Now he lives in boredom, crushing the few violent sods there are and waiting for the demise of whomever it was who drove him here in the first place. Despite technically being a guardian of the third Matarta, Himun doesn’t really concern himself with all that judging malarkey and generally lets Shahrat through unobstructed. Some other fiends lurking in the realm however, do like to try and attack petitioners, looking for a quick snack. The klila wreaths placed by Zan-Hazazban emit magical fire that deters them, but those without wreaths are likely to be preyed upon.
The Fourth Matarta is where things start to get treacherous. Here, a mala’kin named Mshisha (mala’kin herder / [he/him] / NE) tries to tempt souls with the promise of great knowledge. He offers to share the secrets of magic and creation, the origin of the uthras and the current Multiverse, and the deepest of philosophical truths. While Mshisha cannot quite read minds, he somehow knows the philosophical inclination of everyone he meets, and can pressure these points accordingly. Cutters who are tempted by his promises and step off the ship become charmed and polymorphed by the mala’kin into sheep. This isn’t as total a peel as it seems however, since Mshisha and his superior do apparently reveal something profound to the petitioners in the end, though nobody knows what—these berks are never seen again. See, this goat-fiend is but a thrall of Nbu, the planet-size genius loci, that currently exists in Tibil. Nbu couldn’t care less about the uthras, but it seeks ascension to the status of the power of knowledge. Many theorise that stolen petitioner-sheep are consumed by Nbu, or stripped of their memories and transformed into strange book-people which apparently inhabit the planet.
The Fifth Martata toll-station is supposed to be the land of Ruha and Ur. However, since these beings are currently hidden elsewhere, other monsters have entered this domain. Fiendish beasts and the occasional slaad prowl here, though again, wreaths of Zan-Hazazban deter them. However, there’s another danger. While Ruha may be gone, her essence lingers. Everyone who enters this matarta begins to ache for love. Doubt weighs down their shoulders, memories of happiness are dulled, while loneliness gnaws at their hearts. Creatures here fear permanency, they seek excitement, and echoes of Ruha’s siren call draws weak-willed sods deeper into the Lower Pits. Here they risk plunging into the Sea of Suf, where they’ll disappear without a trace. Only those petitioners who learned in life to disavow all earthly longings, and prepared themselves sufficiently for the infinitely blessed life in the World of Light are able to resist this call.
At last, the Shahrat reaches a great gate, where two death giants, Hag and Mag, open the door to Ptahil’s realm. Not much is known about this couple, but they’re described as possessing great, if nihilistic, wisdom—which means the are able to see through the illusion that is the World of Darkness. At least, that’s what uthras seem to think.
And then, at last, there’s Ptahil (ziwa uthra / [he/him] / CN(E)). Many millenia ago this radiant uthra was tasked by Abatur with the creation of the Prime world named Tibil (some cutters say he made the Prime as a whole, but this is much harder to believe). He was proud of this task, but didn’t quite have the power to follow instructions from his high-ups. So, he secretly requested help from Ruha, a primordial spirit of love, lust and turmoil. Ruha successfully breathed life into Ptahil’s creation, but her chaotic nature tainted his world, filling it with calamities and strange monsters. When the other uthras heard of this calamity, they banished Ptahil and subsequently decided the Material Plane to be a lost cause. It is not clear what Ptahil thinks of it now. He seems to flip between deep sorrow, destructive rage and maniacal scheming. In his more sane moments Ptahil outlines his agenda—he wants to prove the uthras and Hayyi Rabbi wrong, and build for himself a perfect world—from which he can rise as a Greater Power himself. However, he isn’t sure how to do it, and his mood and alignment swings definitely don’t help. The gloomy pain and loneliness of Ptahil reverberates throughout his matarta, smothering hope and joy in all but the worthiest petitioners. The worst thing is—he doesn’t seem to realise the uthras haven’t given up on him.
However, fortunately for Ptahil, he has allies. The chief of them is Sharhab’il (nakta uthra / [they/them] / CE(N)). They were an emanation of Ptahil and followed him in his exile. Sharhab’il is the one who tempts and recruits petitioners with a rather enticing promise—instead of abandoning the Multiverse, they could return to it and set things right. Sharhab’il then plunges petitioners who agree into a deep slumber, to prepare for their glorious transformation into powerful emissaries while they wait for the moment of reckoning. No one knows when will this moment come or what it’s going to look like, but chant goes Ptahil already has a formidable army in his disposal. Apparently, qlippoths have also been seen among his ranks, which can never bode well.
From there Siniawis continues forward, becoming the River Hitfun again. It flows through some unknown realm which is only known by a short description given by petitioners—a shimmering sea. However, there’s much more to the World of Darkness than just the River Siniawis. Deep beneath the matartas lie the Lower Pits. These caves are dark, dank, moist, and teeming with danger. Not all of the inhabitants down here are evil—many care not for good or evil, though that doesn’t mean they are “nice”. You can find tanar’ri, divs, baatezu and other fiends, but there are also some slaadi and even a some outcast archons and aasimon. Boiling geysers and black springs of poisonous water dot the landscapes. The Lower Pits are divided between Five Lords: Hag and Mag (described above; who are considered to be one lord); Zartai-Zartanai; Gaf and Gafan; Anathan; and Krun.
Movers and Shakers of the Lower Pits
Zartai-Zartanai (akvan div / [he/him] / CE) is an akvan div, who turned stag on Ahriman. The reason is quite simple—he got greedy. Divs exist to further infinite destruction and annihilation, yet Zartai-Zartanai discovered in himself an unnatural desire to amass wealth and curious trinkets. With his cadre of ghuls he built himself a hoard—although as he was still a div, his collection was quite exotic. It was made up from defiled, broken and obscene art and treasures, fitting the fiend’s nature. Nonetheless, Ahriman took notice, and Zartai-Zartanai had to run. He learned of the World of Darkness and became extremely intrigued. Zartai-Zartanai quickly took control of a portion of the realm with his formidable might and learned of the Tibil and Ptahil’s tragic story. The fearsome akvan believes the gloomy world of Tibil would make an excellent centrepiece for his collection—and a nice world to rule at the same time. He has seduced (or perhaps was seduced by) Libat, and uses her as an intermediate station for his servants to attack Tibil. Zartai-Zartanai has a number of div spies and many ghuls at his disposal. He’s among the most active players in the “pantheon” of Tibil, and is opposed by both Ptahil and the uthras.
Gaf is an absolutely barmy eldritch giant confessor ([he/him] / CN). It seems that the berk dabbled into forbidden knowledge (as his kind tends to do) and this left his mind open to the esoteric horrors of the very deep past of the Multiverse. Gaf claims to be a vessel of a spirit of a long-forgotten giant-kin power of magic who was seduced by Ruha. Together they created Leviathan, in those ancient times when Annam the All-Father had just created the worlds of the Prime. Gaf reckons that this power of magic was destroyed by Annam, but survived as a nameless spirit through a secret chronomantic spell. Gaf now hides in the Lower Pits from imaginary foes, suffering from hallucinations and outbursts of spontaneous rage or weeping. Needless to say, no one believes Gaf—no one that is, except for his wife Gafan (eldritch giant / [she/her] / CN), who is a reclusive and quiet eldritch giant. She barely speaks with anyone who isn’t Gaf or her servant, so her true agenda is unclear, but she seems devoted to cataloguing her husband’s mutterings. Gafan actually loves Gaf and takes care of him, being the only one able to soothe his outbursts. It is said that eldritch giants court each other according to their aligning special interests, so perhaps before Gaf went barmy, he and Gafan met in the pursuit of esoteric knowledge of uthras and Ruha? That aside, for everyone else Gaf and Gafan are still terrifying Lords of Darkness. They have pressured multiple creatures, mostly ethically neutral sorts like slaadi, into service, and they attack any other intruder on their territory. If Gaf and Gafan must deal with to someone exceptionally powerful, they’ll call upon their most valuable servant, a mouldy, mossy treant named Harashia, who rejects forests and chooses instead to live among fungal growths of the World of Darkness. The giants grow edible fungi and prepare them, and whatever else they come across, in a huge cauldron inside their cave domain.
Anathan (unknown / [he/him] / CE) is the next King of Darkness and the most mysterious of them to boot. His domain lies way below those of Hag and Mag, Zartai-Zartanai, and Gaf and Gafan and sprawls many miles across. It is cold and constantly smells of rot and filth. Even other inhabitants of the World of Darkness seem afraid to go there. Anathan is described by those who have seen him as a giant walking suit of armour. Its mere movements are unsettling to look at, and one glimpse under the armour is rumoured to reveal a sight so obscene, so terrible, that the poor sod risks dropping dead on the spot. Qin—the consort of Anathan and the alleged mother of Ruha and Zahreil—is also claimed to be deadly to observe, but she hasn’t actually seen for many millennia now. Most sages believe that she’s really an alias of the dreaded obyrith lord Pale Night. In the absence of formal rulers, the most powerful blood in the domain is Karipiun, a powerful, but hideously deformed ancient black dragon. It seems like he has somehow slighted some draconic Power, but no one has dared to ask the monster for details. Karipiun constantly hunts for food (even though he still looks emaciated), does not collect treasure and never speaks to anyone. Other creatures in Anathan’s kingdom are qlippoths, obyriths, cataboligne and other fiends of demonic disposition, as well as hordes of undead. Strangely enough, despite attacking passers-by, they don’t seem to come into conflict with themselves or with others. Perhaps they were kicked out of the Abyss for not quite being nihilistically evil enough? Nonetheless, this seems to be the only reason why this place hasn’t yet slipped into the Abyss.
There’s only one thing worthy of searching for down in this realm. Sumqaq, the Great Pearl, is a half-a-mile wide black orb with a single entrance, although it’s well-concealed by an illusion. Inside, the sphere is hollow and holds a cavernous room with a pool of black liquid. This strange bubbling caldera contains the very essence of pure bitterness. If a body tries to touch or drinking, anything can happen—they may instantly die, transform into a misshapen abomination or gain magical powers. Many Lower Planar alchemists and wizards have sought out this pure, otherwordly essence, but few have reached it and even fewer have returned. The dark of Sumqaq is that it used to be the realm of Zahreil, the daughter of Qin and herself a formidable sorceress. She had amassed many dark artifacts, but when Hibil Ziwa impersonated a giant demon of darkness and courted her, he stole or destroyed all these treasures, particularly the magic mirror that’d provided her with unbreakable protection, and knowledge of the future of all creatures in the World of Darkness. Even though Zahreil found out about the deceit, she was enamoured by the uthra and followed him. Some say she ascended to the World of Light, others—that she is stuck in the Deep Ethereal to this day. Apparently, some succubi worship her as some kind of inspirational power. Meanwhile, the Spring of Bitterness, which Hibil Ziwa thought had been drained, opened up again, being the only treasure of Darkness left—unless you believe the screed that is. Apparently, Hibil Ziwa lost some retrieved artifacts along the way, but only an addle-cove would go searching for them.
Finally, at the deepest reaches of the World of Darkness lurks Krun, the Great Mountain of Flesh. I’ll give you one guess how he looks. Krun used to rule the entire World of Darkness, some graybeards even reckon that he’s its creator. His reign ended though when Hibil Ziwa journeyed into the realm and slashed Krun into many bloody bits. However, it wasn’t so easy to get rid of him. Krun didn’t die, and slowly, over millions of years, he pulled himself back together. Many sages of fiendish lore believe Krun could be one of the Ancient Baatorians, pointing out his similarities with Zargon the Returner. To prove this, however, one would have to get to Krun, which would surely be a monumental task for anyone short of a power themselves. First of all, the only way to him goes through the passage sealed by ancient truename magic. After that, a potential intruder would have to go through Shdum—the so-called “grandson of Darkness”.
This creature is a giant hulking abomination, constantly accompanied by maddening music. Its putrid body is covered in bony protrusions which resemble flutes and trumpets, platelets that ring like cymbals, and tethers of sinew that sing like the scraped strings of a violin. All together it adds up to a horrible sound of profane music that echoes throughout the caves every time Shdum so much as moves. It’s enough to evoke panic, nausea, and disorientation in anyone, who hears it. The monster itself doesn’t even need to attack, although make no mistake, it does. Whatever else is down there in Krun’s realm is only known from the briefest of accounts from uthras. Apparently, another spawn of Krun called Gui also dwells down there, but it isn’t clear what it is. Some describe it as a lion-like creature, others compare it with a scorpion or an unusually intelligent uzollru obyrith. Perhaps, this being takes the shape of whatever is any particular berk is most afraid at that moment. And finally, there’s Krun himself. It’s unclear what he does, what he wants, how much damage he has managed to heal, or what he is capable of. If one were to follow the hypothesis of Krun being one of the Ancient Baatorians, it may be possible he’s intentionally laying low to prevent baatezu coming for them. After all, who would be the best at hidden manipulation if not the original embodiment of law and evil?
The great dark Sea of Suf likely lies below even the Krun’s domain, but it is much easier to enter than other Lower Pits, since a long-winded tunnel connects it with Ruha’s matarta. At some point early in creation, Ruha and Ur (or, more likely, their avatars) apparently dwelled in the Sea of Suf, granting advice to Ptahil, Krun and other high-ups of the World of Darkness. When the Dark Mother and Leviathan were cast out and went their separate ways, the Sea became empty. Some say that a few sea monsters still remain there, awaiting their masters’ return, but the truth is likely more disturbing—there’s no life left in these cold and dark waters, and everything that falls there disappears in the bottomless abyss.
Source: Margarita. Mythwatch: The World of Darkness is homebrew, but is based on the mythology of the ancient Gnostic religion Mandaeism. Influences from Abrahamic religions and mysticism aren’t unheard of in D&D and Pathfinder (archons, qlippoths, peri, divs and devas, azatas—basically the entire spectrum of Near Eastern religions is already canonically present), but my version references living religions much more, so if you are Mandaean or know more about this religion than me and have any kind of opinion, please do share it..