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![]() The Outlands are what the Clueless refer to as the Plane of Concordant Opposition - a mouthful, to say the least. Whatever a sod calls it, it isn't the wildest, weirdest, or most hostile plane in the multiverse, which is precisely the reason it makes a good campaign base. Think of it as the almost-pacified border fief found in many prime-material campaigns. Here's a place where characters can rest, recover, investigate, and prepare for their adventures without having to evacuate the area at a moment's notice. It's a secure center for their explorations into the rest of the planes. Not too secure, though! Because they're adjacent every Outer Plane, the Outlands are probably the most heavily poached territory in the multiverse. Every high-up man out there's trying to sway one burg or another on the Land to see things his way. A lot of places, like the gate towns, are almost gone, slipping into the plane of a power whose influence has taken its toll. When a town crosses all the way into another plane, the process'll continue until the gate shows up at the next town on the Land, eventually making its way toward Sigil. That makes Sigil more than a quiet little burg where nothing happens. In fact, with all its door-ways to other planes, it just might be the biggest prize of all the prizes of the multiverse. Control Sigil and a body can get anywhere. All a power's got to do is get enough "right-thinking" people on its side.
'Course, with places like Tvashtri's,
Thoth's, or Ilsensine's realms, the Near Lands
aren't exactly dull either. Leave the relative serenity of Sheela Peryroyl's orchards and a cutter
might get caught up in Yen-Wang-Yeh's
endless halls of judgment or Gzemnid's
vile lair. Even when a berk knows his way around the local petitioners, there's
still plenty of outsiders to make his life hell. The Outlands are a meeting ground for
almost everything else on the planes, and a lot of them seem to think it's just an
extension of their own territory. Automata,
Bedlam, Curst, Glorium, Plague-Mort, Ribcage, Xaos, and the other towns just inside the
Great Ring all take on the character of their adjacent planes, which makes for exciting
living indeed.
I know it's the gate to
Mechanus, but do i inhale or exhale before sticking my hands into the gears? - An Outsider, learning the dark of a portal The Clueless figure that, being a plane of perfect neutrality, the Outlands have got to be the most boring place around. It's obvious they haven't spent time there, and they certainly haven't had to cool their heels in the Astral for too long - now that's boring! Sure, the Outlands don't have the burning pits of Baator, the howling madness of Pandemonium, or even the glowing mountain of Celestia. The Land's a little short on big, spectacular landscapes, but it ain't boring, berk. It's because the plane's neutral that the place is so popular. Anyone with the means can come here - that's one of the properties of the plane. On most of the Great Ring, a power can't enter a plane that's not its home, but on the Outlands any power can come and go as it wants. That doesn't mean it can do anything it wants, though. Visiting powers respect the realms of those deities native to the Outlands, and they usually can't enter them without permission. Even petitioners from other planes can come here, though most of them are from the Upper Planes (the guards of the Lower Planes don't like their prizes getting loose). Sigil stands at the very heart of the plane, balanced on a spire that disappears into nothingness above. This is important: There's no way to walk from the Outlands, or anywhere else for that matter, into Sigil. The Cage can be reached ONLY through the many doors that open onto its streets.
The realms of the Outlands lie mostly along the outer edges of the plane, close to portals
that lead to the Great Ring. There are 13 known realms and there's rumors of more, though
no blood's ever found them. Most of these realms are the domains of single powers, but a
few are home to several related powers. Each realm adopts the character of its ruling
power or powers. The most significant or best-known ones are described below. See the map
of the Outlands to pinpoint their positions.
Tir Na Og "The Land of Youth" is the largest of the realms in the Land, and home to most powers of the Celtic pantheon: Daghdha, Diancecht, Goibhniu, Lugh, Manannan mac Lir, Morrigan, and Oghma. The realm is di-vided into lesser areas, where particular powers are dominant. For instance, Mag Mell (Field of Happiness) is the domain of Daghdha. Here the woods are lush and well tended, intermixed with fields of oats, wheat, and barley. Orchards of apples and sloes seem to grow with haphazard neatness. There are no cities in Tir na Og, only villages and lone homesteads. The petitioners there live in rural contentment, supporting themselves mainly through hunting, fanning, and weaving.
In another part of the realm are the workshops of Goibhniu, built at the bases of exposed
hills. Far distant is Tir fo Thuinn, the Land Under the Waves. This is the domain of
Manannan mac Lir. On the surface there is nothing, but below the waves is an entire
kingdom peopled by petitioners who farm, herd, and labor as if they were on the surface.
The Norns This realm can be reached only by crossing a wilder-ness more savage than most. It's a
tiny realm, but one that possesses great power. Here the Norns of Norse lore huddle among
the roots of the plane-spanning Yggdrasil. The canopy is so thick that the realm's like a
great cavern. The few petitioners here are unhappy shades waiting to hear from the Norns.
These powers huddle round the Well of Urd to read the fates of men and gods. Sometimes a
prime or a planar'll consult them, but it's bad business to learn one's future before it's
time.
Sheela Peryroyl's Realm This area is small; indeed, everything about it is undersized, as befits a power of the
halflings. There are no cities or towns here, only a single, extensive orchard and a large
halfling farm, partially above ground, but mostly below. The petitioners here are all
halflings, tending the great orchard and farm.
The Dwarven Mountain So named for the breed of its petitioners and its powers, this realm lies under the influence of Dugmaren Brightmantle, Dumathoin, and Vergadain. The whole realm takes the form of a gigantic rocky mountain. The powers take no interest in the mountain's surface, so there are random petitioner and planar settlements on its slope that have little to do with the realm. Inside, the mountain is honeycombed with caverns. Those nearest the peak are the domain of Vergadain, which is notorious for its gaming halls and rumored treasure houses, as befits a god of luck and wealth. Further down is the domain of Dug-maren. There, the caverns are a wild disarray of furnaces, forges, smelters, villages, and libraries filled with esoteric tomes on metallurgy and other iron crafts. The deepest part of the realm is claimed by Dumathoin. This area is nothing but cold caverns and mines coiling around great veins of ore. It is rumored that the petitioners of this domain spend their days and nights secretly singing the chants that cause the veins to swell and grow. Very little is actually smelted, for the petitioners here prize metal only in its natural state.
The petitioners here are all dwarves, if a sod couldn't guess, although there's more than
a few run-ins with folks from the realms of Gzemnid Ilsensine, and others on the surface.
See next section for more information on the Dwarven
Mountain.
Semuanya's Bog The far shore of Tir fo Thuinn barely rises above the plane's equivalent of sea level,
becoming a nest for lizard men and other bog lovers. The petitioners found here are truly
unique: lizard men, all. It's a mostly deserted realm, although some independent-minded
planars, including more than one desperate outlaw, have set their kip here.
Gzemnid and Ilsensine's Realm(s) No blood knows if these two powers share one realm or if they just lack the imagination to make their realms different. Both rule over caverns that run deeper than even the dwarf realm, and all the tunnels merge together. Things foul and dangerous are supposed to stalk the halls, and most bashers figure there's secret portals to the Lower Planes here. Certainly, the darker fiends of the Lower Planes take residence in these realms when business brings them to the Outlands. Gzemnid's realm is a dangerous and deadly maze. Illusions, distortions, and subtle charms predominate here to match the beholder god's nature. There's no settlements - a petitioner's got to go it on his own, setting up his own nest somewhere in the passages. The petitioners themselves are an unpleasant lot: a few beholders and a goodly number of thieves. They're willing to make deals, but they're always on the watch for their own rewards.
Ilsensine's realm is the more dangerous of the two. The illithid god exists here only
because it con-spires against Good, Evil, Law, and Chaos alike. Planar adventurers don't
like to go here because the place pulses with a mind-wracking drone that burns in a
basher's head. Nor are they welcome, since the ruling power prefers those whom it can
control. Still, it's said that here a cutter can learn nearly anything that transpires on
another plane - if he can stay sane long enough to find Ilsensine and ask the
question. It's quite possible that Ilsensine maintains realms on other planes, or that
it's a god-brain whose neurons flow to the other planes, much like the roots of Yggdrasil.
See The Caverns of Thought
for more information about Ilsensine's realm.
The Palace Of Judgment This realm is a single massive palace, along with its appropriate bureaucracies, granaries, stables, and side-palaces. The entire realm is enclosed in a wall of red brick, patrolled by vigilant petitioners. This is the realm of Yen-Wang-Yeh, judge of the Ten Law Courts and king of the Eighteen Hells. Here, all those petitioners under the sway of the Celestial Bureaucracy are received, judged, and consigned to their appropriate planes and realms. The Palace of Judgment's a unique case. There's conduits there to every realm of the Celestial Bureaucracy (the pantheon of high-ups who call themselves Chinese): Acheron, Gehenna, Mechanus, Mount Celestia, and the Prime Material Plane are just a few. These pipes are used to shoot petitioners along to their justly deserved places (so figure the ones to the Lower Planes get used a bit more than those to the Upper Planes). Therefore, the petitioners there aren't only petitioners of the Outlands. If any newly dead sod falls under the Celestial Bureaucracy's purview, then he's got to come here first, so there's petitioners destined for every plane walking around the Palace. Those that're judged and assigned to be kept on the Outlands usually wind up as clerks and petty bureaucrats for the whole operation. The Palace is big, too. The chant is there's 9,001 rooms behind its walls. Probably the only being who knows for sure is Yen-Wang-Yeh himself.
See next section for more information on the Palace
of Judgment.
Tvashtri's Laboratory This realm borders the Dwarven Mountain. A cutter might even mistake it for part of
Dugmaren Brightmantle's domain. It looks like an endless workshop filled with columns,
pipes, catwalks, brightly polished devices of all types, and near-endless book stacks that
disappear into darkness. Libraries are jammed next to armories, forges next to kitchens.
It's the realm of Tvashtri, god of artifice and science. Here, the petitioners spend their
days inventing and building. Most are human, but there's a good number of gnomes hard at
work, too. It's the place to go for the best gear a cutter could need, although some say
the magic's better in Tir na Og or the Dwarven Mountain.
Thoth's Estate Thoth's realm is a big one. It's a collection of several villages and towns that dot
the banks of the Ma'at, that rises out of Semuanya's Bog and flows through Thoth's realm.
A basher's got to watch out for crocodiles and crocodile-like creatures here. At the
center of the realm is Thebestys, the great city of Thoth, and at its center is the Great
Library. A cutter is supposed to be able to find the answer to anything here, if he can
just find the right scroll. The petitioners are a normal lot, living ordinary lives along
the river.
It's a laugh to say this realm's well known, since no sod can ever seem to find it. Most bloods figure it's really a demiplane somehow attached to the Outlands. By report, it's the home of the giant deity, Annam. Most tale tellers say it's a completely barren mountain with a single crystal tower at the top. That's where Annam sits, surrounded by a thousand-piece orrery of the multiverse that spins in perfect time, all around him. The way they tell it, he's a lonely, sad god, but that may just be dressing for the sake of the story. The Mausoleum of Chronepsis This realm is a compact one, as it's got no petitioners and only one inhabitant -
Chronepsis, the dragon god of fate. His realm is a great cavern in the mountains near the
Dwarven Mountain. Here he rests, surrounded by hourglasses that slowly dribble out the
sands of life for every dragon and dragon-kin of the multiverse.
The Court of Light This is the realm of Shekinester, the naga goddess. It's relatively close to the Palace of Judgment. Her petitioners are nagas of all types, although the worst and best wind up on other planes. Only a leatherhead comes here, as old Shekinester's an unpredictable power. A cutter never knows just what aspect her realm's going to reflect - Weaver, Empowerer, or Preserver. It's also risky going to her realm because her petitioners just might decide a berk's got to be "initiated" into some mystery, and that can be an unpleasant process. On the other hand, there's a lure to these mysteries, because a few of the berks that return from here have insights denied to other bloods. See next section, The Court of Light for more information.
There's more realms than just these on the Outlands, but most of them are so small that
they hardly count, or they're so bizarre that a body can't make any sense of them. This
ain't to say that the entire land is filled with realms; there's also empty spaces between
the lands. 'Course, "empty's" not the right description. These boundaries are
filled with the towns and cities of planars, and there's quite a few cursed petitioners
who don't have a power to call their lord. The empty lands are mostly dry plains, not lush
but not desert - a balance between too little and too much. One blood said it reminded her
of a place called the Great Plains on some prime-material world.
Petitioners don't care whether
they're killed in the name of the Blood War or in the name of Justice. They're just deaders. - The declaration of the Ring-givers Every plane's got its quirks, and these show up fairly obviously in its petitioners. The miserable wretches of Gehenna don't know charity, while the fervent of Arcadia are fanatic in their pursuit of evil. Meanwhile, the petitioners of Ysgard madly battle each other for glory every day. Though there are far fewer petitioners of the Outlands (it's not in most mortals' nature to be truly neutral), they reflect their home plane, too. Their lives are the balance, the fulcrum between good and evil, law and chaos. Some folks think Outlander petitioners would naturally refuse to take sides in any dispute, but that's not the case. The petitioners of the Outlands don't mind getting involved at all - in fact, the problem is keeping them from getting too involved. Here's the chant: Ask a petitioner of the Outlands to do one thing and he does two. If he gives you advice, he's just as likely to advise your enemy. See, the petitioners there have this feeling that every action they take affecting the balance of good and evil (or law and chaos) must be offset by an equal action to the opposite side. Being dutiful petitioners, that's just what they try to do. So, a basher's got to wonder just what this means. Suppose a petitioner gives directions to Plague-Mort. Does that mean he's got to find somebody and give them directions to Glorium, just to balance things out? No, there's no law, chaos, good, or evil inherent in giving directions. However, if an Outlander petitioner smuggles a body away from the hunting fiends of Plague-Mort - a good act by most standards - then he's going to feel compelled to fix the balance. That same petitioner might raise the alarm as soon as the sod's out of town, or he might betray the next berk that's hunted by the fiends. A petitioner's balancing doesn't have to be done immediately. Pure fact is, most of them carry little tallies of their deeds, sometimes in their heads and sometimes in little books. What's this mean for a cutter who's got to deal with such folk? Well, most planars try not to ask too much of an Outlander petitioner; a body never knows when he's going to tip the balance, after all. When that cutter asks for something he knows is good, evil, lawful, or chaotic, he's a wise one to expect some kind of backfire. If he hires an Outlander petitioner-mercenary to help him raid the Fated's headquarters in Sigil, he's a leatherhead to expect the mere to sneak in quiet. The petitioner's more likely to bellow out their arrival - just to balance things out between the two groups. 'Course, the petitioner might not do anything now and balance accounts out at some other time, with some other person. Or, he might be balancing the scales now - a body never knows for sure. How they decide when to fix the balance is something no blood's ever figured out. Ask a petitioner and he can't or won't tell, either. Folks in Sigil figure the Outlanders just like to torment others, keeping them on hooks - will they act this time or won't they? It might be true, as more than enough berks get burned up with the suspense.
This business leads to other surprises from the Outlanders. Sometimes they do things that
seem like downright meanness, like lying or hurting a body for no visible reason. Ask them
about it and they're just "paying back the balance." 'Course, other times
they'll do things that, if a body didn't know better, would just be barmy generosity. An
Outlander might suddenly offer advice, give information, or cut his prices without
explanation. Fact is, it's all done from the balance book they make, and folks who make
the Outlands their home just get used to it.
Role-playing Petitioners DMs need be careful how they use Outlander petitioners. Too much or too little is not a good thing. A queer comment from a petitioner can add spice to an encounter, set the player characters back on track, or send them overconfidently into a trap. The same comment could also derail an adventure, confuse the issue, and frustrate the players.
DMs want players guessing, "Is this berk's price worth the risk?" Sometimes the
price'll work out well, and sometimes it'll be more trouble than it's worth. A good DM
gives some hint or warning of the consequences so his players aren't completely
blind-sided, unless they deserve it. With their apparently random acts of kindness and
cruelty, Outlander petitioners can be used to get adventures started, supply useful
information, and generally keep player characters pointed in the right direction. The DM
has to watch it, though. Using them too much is going to either make players dependent on
petitioners for help or rile the group into slaughtering every one they see. "Run,
here comes a petitioner!" is bad. "We're stuck, let's go ask some petitioners
until one helps us," is worse. Use petitioners sparingly and in unexpected ways.
Remember that the things a petitioner provides - information, aid, and hindrances - don't
have to have one whit to do with the adventure.
Magic On the Outlands As far as the standard restrictions go, most planars call Sigil or the Outlands their home. This makes all those abjure, holy word, and protection from evil spells useless against the majority of planars found on the Outlands. It's a good thing too; otherwise, adventuring would be a pretty tough bet. Spells that use an ethereal pathway need keys before they'll work. Luckily for spellcasters, conjuration/summoning spells can call upon creatures from any Outer Plane or the Astral Plane, which is the biggest range of choices for any of the Outer Planes.
It's true that all planes affect magic, but no plane works on it like the Outlands. Go to
Mechanus and no matter where a cutter is, his spells might work differently, but they
always work differently in the same way. On Mechanus, an illusion won't work, no matter
what cog wheel a berk's standing on.
Sigil's a cage till we finish the
last so-called ruler. Arise and cast off your chains!! - Ninety-first proclamation of the Anarchs That ain't the case on the Outlands. Here, where a cutter stands makes all the difference. That's because the plane's divided into 10 layers, like the skins of an onion. See, as a body moves through each layer toward the center of the Outlands, more and more magical power is - well, neutralized - until at the very center there's none left. ('Course, that's where Sigil is, and it promptly breaks all those rules.) None of the layers are of equal thickness, and there's no defined borders, so the only way a cutter knows what layer she's standing in is by casting a spell and seeing it fly or fail. (In other words, the DM may have to make a judgment call and the player'll have to live with it.) The outermost layer of the onion is also the thickest. This is where most of the realms are found. Most of the gates, portals, and conduits to the Great Ring spill into this layer. Out here, there's generally no special restrictions on spells beyond the standards. The exception to this set of rules is the gate-towns, the settlements that form around each portal to the Great Ring. In some of these, a little of the magical effect from the nearby plane leaks over and creates special conditions, either enhancing or diminishing a certain school of magic. Not every gate-town is affected, though, so a cutter's wise to ask around before he gets in trouble. ('Course, DMs can learn the dark of such things by studying the entries on those burgs in this book and in others to come.) In the second layer from the outside, the power of magic is diminished so that 9th-level spells don't function, including spell-like abilities of creatures. Note that this does not apply to any of the powers. 'Course, while this is bad news for wizards, it don't mean a thing to priests. A side effect of this notion is that the layer is home to several powers who are apathetic to wizards, like those in the Dwarven Mountain. Now, a wizard on the second layer doesn't forget his 9th-level spells, they just don't work when he tries to cast them. As mentioned, there's no warning or signal when this happens, no borderline on the ground or signs to mark the ring, so a cutter's got to keep track of just where he is or there might be a nasty surprise. In the third layer, 8th-level spells (and spell-like abilities) are shut down. This and all the following effects are cumulative, so on this ring both 8th- and 9th-level spells are affected, and so on. The abilities of powers aren't harmed in this circle, either. Because all this still doesn't mean a thing to priests, this layer's also got realms of powers that are either hos-tile or indifferent to wizards. At the fourth layer from the outside, 7th-level spells (and spell-like abilities) cease to function. Now priest spells are affected, so there's very few realms here. Not too many of the powers are indifferent to priests, but a few that are might make their homes here. At the fifth layer, 6th-level spells (and spell-like abilities) fail. In addition, illusion/phantasm spells are obvious for what they are unless a cutter has the right key to give them force. Level-draining powers also fail at this ring. At the sixth layer from the outside, 5th-level spells (and spell-like effects) fail. Poisons are also rendered inert here. Folks dying of poison are some-times gated here as a quick way to stop the damage, since even poison in a body is affected. At the seventh layer, 4th-levels spells (and spell-like abilities) don't operate. Conduits from the Great Ring can't reach this ring, although there's still doorways to and from Sigil. Getting to this layer is mostly done through the Cage, since few folks want to take the time to hike from the sixth to the seventh ring. The powers of demigods are suppressed here. Demipowers still retain their defensive powers - any regeneration, magic resistance, or protections - but all spell-like offensive powers are lost. At the eighth layer, 3rd-level spells (and spell-like abilities) are left impotent. Almost as important, spells and spell-like abilities (including those of all powers) that require an Astral connection fail - nothing can be conjured or summoned to this portion of the plane. Here also, the powers of lesser deities are suppressed like a demigod's in the seventh layer. There are no realms from this point in, but the ring's a popular place for parleys. A power can walk among dire rivals here and still feel protected, espe-cially since his enemy can't summon reinforcements for an ambush. At the ninth layer, 2nd-level spells (and spell-like effects) no longer function. Even more important, the offensive powers of intermediate gods are held in check. At this ring, high-level parleys are held. At the center of the Outlands, around the base of the spire that supports Sigil, is the ultimate negation of power. No magic or godly faculties of any type work here. This is the ultimate in meeting grounds, for here everyone, no matter how powerful, is rendered equal. It's rarely visited, for only the most pressing business can force the greater gods to parley here. Reaching the center requires a tedious overland journey from the edge of the seventh ring, since all Astral connections are severed inside this radius.
And then there's Sigil. Sitting at the tip of the spire, it's a dif-ferent world. Spells
in the Cage work as if a cutter was on the outermost ring of the plane. Some bloods argue
it's because Sigil's in a separate little demi-plane that is linked only geographically to
the Out-lands. Others say it sits at the confluence of energies from the plane. Most folks
don't care. All they know is that magic works in the City of Doors.
![]() Only a few spells are jumbled by the neutral nature of the Outlands, yet every cutter who can cast a spell gets all put out if his one favorite is among them. That's why there's spell keys, ways to work around those obstacles. Recovering that special spell's just a matter of learning the right key. 'Course, keys aren't something every wizard just rattles his bone-box about. It don't pay to shed too much light on the dark. After all, a berk just might be giving aid to his enemy. No, a blood's got to discover the keys he needs by himself. A factol might share a few with his brothers or sisters, but a cutter's got to figure there's a price for such help. A little garnish in the right places might buy a few keys, but the cost could get high. A canny fellow might bob another wizard into revealing a few, but that's hard - most wizards hoard their knowledge like precious gems. There's only a few keys to learn, as whole groups of spells use the same key. All the Outlander keys work on the principle of balance: Something must be done, offered, or exchanged, at least symbolically, for a spell to work. The key is invoked or used at the time of casting, and it has to be employed each time the affected spell is cast. For those spells that have casting times, a key adds 1 to the spell's total rating. The list below describes the key needed for a spell or par-ticular group of spells. * Dismissal and ensnarement. If the creature's from the Ethereal or Inner Planes, the caster's got to give it something made on the Outlands. A leaf of razorvine picked in Sigil is an example. * Distance distortion. To tap the power of the plane of Earth, the caster's got to memorize a gust of wind or similar spell. When distance distortion is cast, the gust of wind instantly vanishes from memory as if cast. Divinations to the Inner Planes (Augury, commune, contact other plane, divine inspiration, reflecting pool, vision). If the power to be contacted lives on the Inner Planes, the caster must reveal a secret of his own to a native of this plane (petitioner or planar). It doesn't have to be a big secret, but it must be something that has been intentionally kept dark from all others, like "I cheated Arzol the fruit merchant this morning." * Draw upon holy might and sanctify. These spells are affected only if the power resides on the Inner Planes. To cast them under these circumstances, the priest must sacrifice an enchanted item of any type. * Drawmij's instant summons. This spell is affected only if the summoned thing is on the Inner Planes. To cast the spell, the wizard must offer an equal amount of inorganic matter from the Outlands, which is swapped for the summoned thing. The material chosen must be held by the caster. Should the summoned thing be returned to its plane, the swapped material is returned, although its condition may suffer from exposure to the Inner Planes - i.e., it might be burned to a crisp, etc. Elemental conjurations (Aerial servant, chariot of Sustarre, conjure elemental, elemental swarm, invisible stalker). To summon these creatures and effects, the wizard must cast a handful of the opposing element toward the target. For example, to summon a water elemental, a handful of coals must be thrown. (Take note of the special rules for outerplanar elementals - see A DM Guide to the Planes.) Ethereal-based spells (Estate transference, ether-walk, Hornung's random dispatcher, Leomund's secret chest). In addition to the spell's material components, a gem of at least 100-gp value must be used. This vanishes when the spell is cast, a toll to the powers of the Astral Plane. Energy Plane spells (Energy drain, negative plane protection, restoration). Spells reaching the Negative Energy Plane require a live insect or worm, which vanishes upon casting. Those reaching the Positive Energy Plane require a dead insect or worm.
Shadow magic (Demishadow monsters, demishadow magic, Lorloveim's creeping shadow,
Lorloveim's shadowy transformation, major creation, minor cre-ation, shades, shadow
monsters, shadow walk, shadow magic, shadow engines, shadowcat, summon shadow, vanish).
To access the plane of Shadow, the caster must include among his material components a
stone enchanted with a continual light or a continual darkness spell. This
item vanishes when the spell is cast. Furthermore, the caster has to alternate the item
offered with each casting. If a continual light is used to cast demishadow
monsters, the next time a shadow spell is cast, a stone cloaked in continual
darkness must be offered.
You figure a sword
and a bunch of spells make you tough? It ain't what you got that counts, berk, it's what you know. - Fairven, a Cipher It's likely that power keys for various priest spells exist on the Outlands. Just the same, power keys aren't something a berk can just drop a little jink on and learn. He can't get the dark of them from factols, and most other priests won't share the one or two power keys they might know, either. Power keys have got to be earned and even then there's no promise a cutter's going to get one. Because power keys are under the absolute control of the DM, none are made up or listed here. The DM can create them when they're needed and choose the spell that's most appropriate. In general, power keys on the Outlands are likely to enhance the casting of spells that reveal, maintain, or at least don't harm the balance of Good, Evil, Law, and Chaos in the multiverse. Consequently, there's not a whole lot of power keys given out on this plane. |
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Sigil and Beyond