gistfile1.txt

Chapter 5: Planes of Existence
p143
Artist: Benjamin Hubel
Artist: Benjamin Hubel
The sky was full of dreams. Countless points of light glittered against the endless darkness. But these were no stars. Some were quite close to Dela, and she could see them more clearly. There was movement within each iridescent sphere, images of people and places from across the world. In one, she could see a child begging on the streets of Sharn. In another, a woman was being crowned, surrounded by cheering people. Dela knew that if she touched one of these spheres, she would enter the dream, experiencing it just as if it was real. If she could find Rusty's dreams, she could speak to him. Try to save him. But how could she find one dream among the endless multitude?

It was then that she saw the shadow moving against the darkness. Its body was nearly invisible against the sky, but it was surrounded by a halo of glowing eyes. Gentle had warned Dela about these. Each eye was the essence of a mortal; its dreams had been consumed by the kalaraq and its soul bound to service. And now, it was searching for her.

All mortals are connected on a spiritual level to Eberron's thirteen planes. This is most obvious with Dal Quor and Dolurrh. When (most) creatures sleep, their spirits are drawn to Dal Quor, where their dreams take shape. When creatures die, their souls are pulled to Dolurrh. These facts are obvious and indisputable. But many people don't realize that just like their spirits are pulled by Dolurrh and Dal Quor, they're similarly tied to all of the planes. A storyteller might be inspired by Thelanis without ever knowing it, while an artist's revelation may come from Xoriat, and a soldier's courage could flow from Shavarath. The basic energy of life itself flows into the world from Irian, while Mabar consumes both life and hope. These forces are everywhere, as much a part of the soul as gravity is part of the world.

This chapter examines each of the thirteen planes of Eberron, building on the information provided in chapter 4 of Eberron: Rising from the Last War. It explores the basic concepts that define each plane and the ways that they can affect a story—whether as a destination for adventurers, or in the background, as forces shaping every moment of life.

Eberron and Its Planes
Eberron's thirteen planes of existence enfold the Material Plane of Eberron itself. Though Eberron is part of a wider multiverse, it's completely cut off and has its own unique cosmology. Each of these thirteen planes have qualities of both Inner and Outer Planes as defined in the Dungeon Master's Guide, and affect the Material Plane in subtle and obvious ways. In addition to the constant influence of the planes on each creature, planes can also affect the world more directly, as seen in manifest zones and coterminous periods.

About the Planes
The most important thing to understand about the planes is that they're ideas. Each one is a pure, iconic concept. War. Peace. Chaos. Order. They are eternal, and with few exceptions, unchanging. Eberron is the Material Plane, where these concepts come together and interact. It's a world that feels the passage of time, where life can change and evolve. The planes of Eberron are archetypal ideas. The precise details can change, but there's always been war in Shavarath, and always will be; that's what Shavarath is.

Universal Properties
If adventurers visit one of the planes, they'll find it has certain unnatural properties that can be felt consistently throughout the entire plane of existence. A plane's universal properties can often be felt on Eberron itself; one of the most common effects of manifest zones is to extend one or more of that plane's universal properties into the Material Plane, sometimes reliably, other times unpredictably. The section for each plane presents a list of universal effects that affect that entire plane; these generally apply to all creatures within that plane.

Time doesn't pass at the same rate on every plane; it could move faster, slower, or even unpredictably. For spells and similar effects that target oneself or require concentration, the duration is calculated based on the flow of time the caster is currently experiencing. If a spell doesn't require concentration and is cast on a target other than self (for example, a geas spell), its duration is based on the target's current plane and time.

Planar Denizens
p144
Every plane's inhabitants are unique, but each creature can generally be classified in one of the following categories.

Manifestations. A dragon rains fire down on a platoon of soldiers in Shavarath. Cheering crowds throng the streets of the Amaranthine City of Irian. Dragon, soldiers, crowds—none of these things are truly real. When you dream that you're taking a test at Arcanix, the sarcastic professor and mocking students aren't fully sentient spirits; they're manifestations of Dal Quor, created for that scene, and as soon as you wake, they'll vanish. These creatures can appear to be sentient, and you might be able to have a conversation with soldiers in Shavarath—but they won't have anything to say that you couldn't imagine coming out of the mouth of an extra in a war movie. As a general rule, manifestations can't leave the layers of the planes that they're in, and like dreams, they usually don't persist indefinitely; when their purpose is served, they simply evaporate until they're needed again. Very rarely, a manifestation might develop a more independent, sentient existence—like the drifters of Dal Quor—though they're generally still bound to their plane of origin and unable to deviate from their central purpose.
Manifestations vary by plane; in Dal Quor they're called figments, while in Shavarath, they're conscripts. In some planes, the manifestations are formed from the soul-stuff of mortals, while in others they're entirely imaginary. A plane never runs out of the potential for manifestations, but these creatures typically follow the internal logic of a scene. If you fight a dragon in Shavarath, it feels just like fighting an actual dragon, and when you kill it, it seems dead and you can enjoy your victory. However, if you return a day later, there's no sign of the corpse, and instead, there's a new dragon in the sky.

Some planes don't have manifestations of creatures, because the ideas they represent don't need them. Instead, these planes generally rely on native mortals to make up the supporting cast. So while Shavarath needs a constant churn of conscripts in battle, and Dal Quor creates figments to flesh out mortal dreams, other planes—Dolurrh, Fernia, Lamannia, and Syrania—don't create manifestations. For example, Lamannia needs mortal beasts to tell its story; birth, growth, and even death are part of its concept, and reflecting that requires a mortal population.

Immortals. Immortal beings are an integral part of their native plane, each expressing a particular aspect of its core ideas. For example, in Shavarath, devils embody the concept of war fought in pursuit of tyranny, while angels are living symbols of the endless fight for justice. The name "immortal" doesn't mean "unkillable"—they can indeed be killed (as discussed in the "Killing Immortals" sidebar). While immortals don't show the effects of age, some have a limited lifespan and can die a natural death as well. However, their essence is immortal and their numbers remain constant.
Most immortals don't care about Eberron. Many consider Eberron to be an unfinished experiment, while their realm is the finished, perfected work of the Progenitors. Others simply believe in their purpose to the exclusion of all other things; to the angel of Shavarath, the eternal battle is the single most important struggle in the multiverse, and leaving their post for even an instant could give the enemy an advantage. So most immortals aren't concerned with the fates of mortals or their civilizations; of course mortals may die, that's their most defining feature. An angel has seen many human civilizations rise and fall—what's one more? While there are a few exceptions—immortals who chose to dwell on Eberron, whether to prey on mortals, observe them, or assist them—immortals are generally bound to their planes, and your problems are not their problems.

Immortals don't reproduce as mortal creatures do; if they're killed, their spiritual essence is instead reabsorbed into the plane and eventually reassembled. For example, in Shavarath, angels and devils are constantly being killed, but they're just as quickly being reborn to fight again. Immortals are each born as embodiments of specific ideas and don't choose their path; they're already mature, possessing their full abilities and knowledge, and imbued with an absolute understanding of their purpose. So while immortals possess great power, they lack the potential of mortals to grow and evolve, and find the idea of questioning their beliefs or straying from their purpose to be inconceivable.

Killing Immortals
Killing an immortal being is a temporary solution. Immortals that play a particularly significant role within a plane often return with their memories and personality intact; physical destruction is no more than a short trip to the penalty box. Lesser immortals may return with the same abilities, but with a new appearance, memories, or personality. The number of immortals remains the same, but it's a new incarnation of the idea. The only way to permanently eliminate an immortal is to somehow contain or redirect its spiritual essence; this is why the Silver Flame bound the overlords instead of destroying them.

While immortals can't be destroyed, it's possible that the manner of a creature's death, or circumstances that follow, could delay the return of a particular immortal, or force it to return as a new incarnation instead of retaining its memories. The DM could choose to make these general rules for a type of creature—perhaps immortals from Shavarath return in 24 hours if they're killed on Shavarath, but it takes 6 months for them to return if they're killed on Eberron. Or it could be extremely specific: the devil Hashtorak returns within a day of his death, but if he's killed with the Spear of Miron he'll be banished for ten years.

There are exceptions to all rules, of course. The kalashtar exist because a handful of quori turned against il-Lashtavar. Likewise, radiant idols are angels of Syrania that were corrupted by their time on the Material Plane and desired mortal adoration. But these examples are vanishingly rare. Sometimes it's because the unusual immortal is born embodying a unique perspective on the usual concept; this is essentially a mutation, as opposed to a choice. In other cases, an outside force might change or corrupt the immortal's fundamental nature. And rarely, an immortal might have an unusual sense of identity and the ability to choose.

If an immortal changes in a way that alters its core concept, this is often accompanied by a physical transformation, such as a corrupted angel becoming a radiant idol, thus losing its ability to fly. Immortals may be able to increase their abilities by absorbing other immortals, acquiring artifacts, or through other means unique to their plane. They simply don't grow or gain experience through time alone; after all, some of them are as old as the universe itself, and in the absence of a dramatic cause, they're utterly unchanging.

Mortals. Mortal creatures live in the planes, but they're much like their counterparts in Eberron. They have families and children, and can live quiet lives or be driven by grand ambitions. Unlike manifestations and immortals, mortal creatures can evolve and change their ways, and of course, they can die. In some planes, mortals are either subjugated by immortals or voluntarily serve them; in others, they pursue their own paths. In some cases—such as the merfolk of Lamannia or the eladrin of Thelanis—these creatures are natives of their home plane, were created by it, and have always been a part of it. Others—such as the frost giants of Risia—originally came from the Material Plane and simply carved out a place in their new plane. These non-native mortals may have lived in the planes for many generations, but on a fundamental level, they aren't truly a part of it.
Planar Variations. The same type of creature can appear in different planes—demons can be found in Fernia, Dolurrh, Shavarath, and more. They might use the same statistics, but their appearance and motivations vary dramatically based on their planes, and they have no sense that being "demons" makes them all allies. The balor of Shavarath embodies the savagery of war; its wings are of steel, and blood drips from its notched sword. The balor of Fernia represents the terrifying destructive power of fire; its wings and sword are made of pure flame. With any planar creature—especially immortals—consider the idea it represents and how that can be uniquely embodied.
Planar Layers
p145
Eberron is the Material Plane, bound by the logical limitations that govern material things. However, its thirteen planes are ideas, and these are potentially limitless. With this in mind, the planes of Eberron are divided into layers—distinct environments or realms that aren't bound by the laws of physical space nor physically connected. These layers can be tiny, seemingly infinite, or anything in between. A desert may wrap back upon itself, the alleys in a city could twist in impossible ways to always return you to the main square, or you could come to an absolute edge, where everything falls away into an endless void.

Many scholars—including Dorius Alyre ir'Korran in his celebrated Planar Codex—describe the layers of a plane as a stack; however, the planes of Eberron aren't physically arranged in a particular order, and there's no concept of a top or bottom layer. Instead, each layer explores a different facet of the core concept that defines the plane. Lamannia is the Plane of Nature, and each layer showcases a particular environment—there's an endless ocean, a vast forest, a volcano forever on the edge of erupting. Shavarath is the Plane of War, and each layer contains a different aspect of war—a bitter siege, a bloody melee, a lingering guerilla conflict. Some planes have a core layer that serves as the heart of the plane, such as the Amaranthine Cities of Mabar and Irian. But the layers of Lamannia are all equal in importance.

While they aren't stacked, most planes have layers bound by a reliable set of connections. The shape of these connections varies based on the plane. Some are obvious: a massive door sitting in the desert, a pool that reflects a scene from another layer. Others are more subtle; if you come upon an island while sailing on the Endless Ocean of Lamannia and you walk inland, you'll find that the island is a completely different layer—and when you turn around, the ocean is no longer behind you. A portal doesn't have to be physical at all; in Thelanis, you can travel to a new layer by acting out the elements of a new story.

This chapter provides examples of notable layers for each plane, but these are only a sampling. Just as ideas have no limits, there are no limits on the number of layers a plane can contain. In developing or describing a layer to fit your story, keep the core concept of the plane in mind. What differentiates the vast fortress citadel of Irian's Amaranthine City from a fortress in Shavarath? A fortress in Shavarath is about war; the stones are worn, and there's a scent of blood and smoke in the air. In Irian, the fortress is a symbol of hope, of an empire on the rise; it's bright, clean, and may have never seen an actual battle. So while the layers of two planes might initially sound similar, look back to the core concept and consider how that's reflected in each layer.

The Material Plane
Though travel to the planes is usually quite challenging and dangerous, even adventures on the world of Eberron can be profoundly impacted by the planes that lie beyond. This section discusses some unique aspects of the Material Plane and its place in the wider cosmology of Eberron.

Planar Manifestations
Even without planar travel, there are many ways the planes can manifest in an adventure. This chapter examines these potential impacts for each plane using three general categories.

Manifest Zones. These are places where the influence of a plane can be directly felt in the Material Plane. Each manifest zone is tied to a particular physical location on the Material Plane; this is true not only for the Eberron side of the zone, but for the region of the other plane it connects to. So if you live near a manifest zone to Thelanis, it always connects to a specific location in that plane; it's not simply a manifest zone to Thelanis, it's a manifest zone to a particular region of the Endless Weald (or any other layer of the plane).
Manifest zones often exhibit one or more of the universal properties of a plane; in a weak manifest zone, their effect might be diminished, and in a strong one, multiple effects might be present. Chapter 4 of Eberron: Rising from the Last War suggests more possible features of manifest zones beyond those presented in this chapter. Some manifest zones can serve as direct portals between Eberron and another plane (though travel is blocked to Dal Quor and Xoriat). Most portals only open under certain circumstances—often when the planes are coterminous, when the moon associated with that plane is full, or both. These gateways can allow adventurers to travel to another plane—but can also be the source of unexpected, and sometimes hostile, creatures from other planes.

Kar'lassa Dreams
Chapter 4 describes the kar'lassa, massive monstrosities that serve as living conduits to the planes. The kar'lassa are asleep, but they dream in planes other than Dal Quor, and mortal creatures that sleep in their vicinity are drawn into these dreams. Kar'lassa dreams exist as a unique layer within the plane, blending the plane's core principles with the alien consciousness of the dreamer; it's up to the DM to decide exactly how this manifests and how easy it is to reach other layers in the plane. Where the sahuagin have established a connection to a kar'lassa—as described in chapter 4—they've created a temple in its dreams, tended by dream priests.

Coterminous and Remote. The planes of Eberron are often depicted as orbiting the Material Plane, reflecting the fact that they move into and out of alignment with it. When a plane is coterminous, it's aligned; the plane's influence grows over the entire world, and it amplifies the effects of existing manifest zones. On the other hand, when a plane is remote, its power fades; since the planes are always influencing the Material in subtle ways, their absence impacts the world as strongly as their presence does. Multiple planes can be coterminous at the same time; these planar conjunctions are often related to the interactions of the moons, and characters proficient in Arcana can usually work out upcoming conjunctions.
These planar cycles are intended as plot devices, so DMs don't need to run them on strict calendar cycles. Instead, use them to suit the story. They can add an interesting mechanical twist to an adventure: because Mabar is coterminous, all undead are stronger! They can drive a villain's plot: Lady Illmarrow must be stopped from activating the device in three days' time, when both Mabar and Dolurrh are coterminous—a conjunction that won't happen again for another century!

It's ultimately up to the DM to decide when planes are coterminous or remote. If it suits the story for Dolurrh to be remote for the next three days, make it so—just be sure to inform the arcane scholars among the adventurers, who'd likely know such a thing in advance. Other DMs might prefer to have concretely established cycles, which can add their own interesting flavor to an adventure. For example, Mabar is always coterminous on the nights of the new moon closest to the winter solstice, a time known as Long Shadows. On these nights, friends and family gather together and keep lights burning through the night. With this in mind, this chapter does discuss the traditional cycle of each plane, when it's reliably coterminous or remote—just remember the cycles are there to enhance your story, not limit it!

Artifacts. The planes can be an excellent source of unusual materials, legendary magic items, and relics. Each section discusses a few kinds of items that could come from each plane and its associated manifest zones.
The Skies of Eberron
p146
In the myth of the Progenitors, Siberys, Eberron, and Khyber worked together to create the thirteen planes. Following this effort, they rested in the emptiness that lies at the center of the planes—and there, they quarreled. Khyber killed Siberys and tore him apart, then Eberron enfolded Khyber and became a living prison, forming the world itself.

This could be literal truth. Perhaps the ring in the sky was once the body of a great cosmic wyrm. But even if it's not literally true, it reflects truths about the world. From the surface, Eberron looks much like Earth; there is soil below your feet and moons and stars above. But the fact is that Eberron is not like Earth, and much of what can be seen isn't what it appears to be. As far as anyone has determined, Eberron is the sole planet in its Material Plane, and the fulcrum where the thirteen planes come together. Go below the surface of Eberron and you find not a molten core, but the demiplanes of Khyber. So what are the celestial bodies of Eberron?

The Ring of Siberys. This brilliant equatorial band of light dominates the sky. Siberys dragonshards fall from the Ring of Siberys, and its golden color suggests that the entire ring may be comprised of these magical crystals. The Siberyan Theory, as taught at Arcanix and the Arcane Congress, postulates that all arcane magic manipulates energy that radiates from the Ring—and magic itself is the Blood of Siberys.
The Sun. In the Progenitor myth, the three rested in the Material Plane after creating the planes. They created the sun, Arrah, much as mortals might kindle a campfire. This fire remained even after their battle, and continues to provide light, heat, and comfort to the world, functioning much like the sun we're used to in our own world. In the Sovereign Host, Dol Arrah is the Sovereign of Sun and Sacrifice; her name is, essentially, Warrior Sun.
The Stars. There are stars in the sky of Eberron, but they aren't the anchors of distant solar systems. There are limits to the Material Plane, and the stars mark those limits; think of them as glittering points in a crystal sphere. The common constellations are figures of ancient dragons—Io, Tiamat, Chronepsis—though most people couldn't actually say where these names come from. It's generally assumed that they were handed down by one of the ancient kingdoms of Sarlona, or established by the ancestors of the Aereni—but in fact, the names are from a tradition spread by the sages of Argonnessen.
The Moons. Twelve orbiting moons are visible from Eberron—the former moon, Crya, hasn't been seen since ancient times, when tales say the empire of the giants destroyed it. Each moon goes through standard lunar phases, but during the month that shares its name, the moon enters an ascendant phase; during this time, the moon is brighter than usual. Each moon is associated with certain personality traits, and it's believed that people are influenced by the moon that's ascendant at the time of their birth. But there's a further complication, because the moons are also tied to the planes, as indicated on the Planar Destinations and Moons table. Each moon enters an additional ascendant phase whenever its associated plane is coterminous, and becomes unusually dim when the plane is remote. So while unusual, it's possible for there to be two or three ascendant moons at a time if multiple coterminous periods converge.
The connection between the planes and moons is reinforced by the fact that while on a plane, its associated moon is the only one that can be seen in the sky (though not all planar layers have a visible sky, like the dismal caverns of Dolurrh). While on a moon's associated plane, the phase of the moon doesn't necessarily match its current phase on Eberron. It may be fixed in a single phase—such as in Lamannia, where the moon is always full—or its phase might even change from layer to layer. While on a plane, if the moon is visible, it can be identified with a successful DC 10 Wisdom (Nature) check.

To date, no humanoids have visited one of the moons. Because of this, their true nature remains a mystery. It's possible that they are orbiting, habitable planetoids, home to exotic creatures and valuable resources. But some sages believe that they aren't actually physical bodies at all, but rather, planar gateways—if an airship were to somehow fly high enough and attempt to land on a moon, perhaps it would instead pass into the sky of the associated plane. Determining the truth would be an epic adventure.

What about the Soverigns?
The Sovereigns don't dwell in the planes, and the people of Eberron don't expect them to. Vassals of the Sovereign Host believe that the Sovereigns are everywhere at once. Onatar isn't working at a forge in Fernia, he's with every smith at every forge. Many Vassals believe that when mortal souls pass through Dolurrh, they join the Sovereigns, but this is seen more as an ecstatic union rather than joining them in an existential clubhouse.

Some immortals in the planes honor the Sovereigns. A platoon of angels in Shavarath may carry the banner of Dol Arrah, while a squad of demons wear the skins of their foes and howl praise to the Mockery. The Librarian of Dolurrh may mention the time Aureon came to borrow a book—but that was almost a hundred thousand years ago. These acknowledgments don't prove anything, other than confirming the most basic myths of the Sovereign Host: that in the first age of the world, a band of champions defeated the overlords, as discussed in chapter 1. It's possible that they ascended and became the omnipresent entities many believe them to be, but that's the part that even angels must take on faith.

The Astral and Ethereal Planes
The Astral and Ethereal Planes are discussed in chapter 2 of the Dungeon Master's Guide. The githyanki's vast ships can be found in the Astral Plane, as discussed in the section on Kythri.

It's possible that adventurers on either of these transitive planes may discover portals that lead back to the Material Plane or to twelve of Eberron's other planes; however, Dal Quor hasn't been accessible since the Age of Giants, and portals to this plane are impassable. The destination of Astral color pools and Ethereal curtains can be determined by their color; each portal closely resembles the appearance of the moon tied to that plane, as indicated in the Planar Destinations and Moons table.

Khyber: The Worlds within the World
p147
Adventurers don't have to go beyond Eberron to find strange and magical realms. A layer of stone and soil lies beneath the surface of Eberron, and those who delve below may find natural caverns, subterranean ruins of Dhakaani goblinoids, or the realm of the dwarves of Sol Udar. But there's more to Khyber than rock and mud. The underdark contains countless demiplanes—pockets of space where the rules that govern the Material Plane don't apply. These are the source of Khyber's most unnatural aspects, where its fiends are formed and where the daelkyr remain imprisoned in their own layers (similar to the layers of Eberron's other planes). Demiplanes can be deadly, but they can also provide an unexpected opportunity for exploration and the discovery of wondrous new worlds just below the surface.

The Realm Below section of chapter 4 provides ideas of what it can be like to explore the upper regions of Khyber; this section gives an overview of the demiplanes adventurers might encounter as they delve deeper.

What are Demiplanes?
The demiplanes of Khyber are somewhat like the layers of other planes. Each demiplane has limited space, though it could be as small as a house or as large as a nation. Its borders might be defined by impassible physical barriers or walls of force, or the pocket of space could wrap around—if you walk far enough in one direction, you'll find you've looped back to where you began.

Reaching a demiplane requires a portal. In some cases, travel also requires rituals or planar conjunctions, and some portals may be impassable, sealed by the ancient wards of dragons or Gatekeeper druids. However, many portals are not only active, but nearly imperceptible; adventurers walking down a tunnel may pass through a portal to the Ironlands without ever knowing it. Portals are static, remaining in one place, and as long as one remains open, adventurers can always retrace their steps to return to it.

Demiplanes may have two or more portals, each leading to anywhere on the Material Plane. The realm of Dyrrn the Corruptor has portals beneath the Shadow Marches and the Ironroot Mountains, while both the Kech Shaarat goblinoids of Darguun and the Ghaash'kala orcs of the Demon Wastes make use of portals tied to the Ironlands. As such, demiplanes can allow rapid travel across long distances; adventurers could enter a demiplane below Q'barra, walk what seems like only a mile, then emerge from a tunnel into Breland. Demiplanes have much in common with Eberron's thirteen planes. Natural laws may not apply within, and time, space, or other elements may behave in unnatural ways. A demiplane could have some of the properties of another plane, like the Burning Bright property of Fernia or the Primordial Matter property of Lamannia. But there's no universal theme that unites all demiplanes; each one is entirely unique. Some sages say that these demiplanes are Khyber's dreams. Others believe that demiplanes are unfinished ideas—early drafts of reality or seeds that never quite became planes.

While demiplanes are usually limited in size, there's no inherent logic to their construction. It's possible to be a mile below the surface of Eberron when you discover a valley that appears to be open to the sky... but it's not the sky of Eberron! Unlike the planes, the demiplanes of Khyber don't contain any of Eberron's celestial objects—there could be moons, rings, even suns in the sky, but they'll be entirely unfamiliar.

While there's no common theme that unites all demiplanes, there are three common categories of demiplane: hearts, prisons, and shadows.

Heart Demiplanes
The overlords—Rak Tulkhesh, Sul Khatesh, and others—are said to be Khyber's first children. They were the first fiends to physically manifest, and each overlord brought forth a host of lesser fiends. When a fiend dies, its essence returns to Khyber. Each one is bound to and reincarnated in a particular demiplane within Khyber—the heart of an overlord. This is one reason the overlords can't be permanently destroyed; each is part of the architecture of Khyber itself, and the overlord's form that can be encountered in Eberron is simply a projection of its essence. To defeat the overlords, the champions of the Age of Demons used the Silver Flame to bind their immortal essence, preventing them from returning to their heart demiplane to reform. This essentially severed the brain from the heart—but the heart demiplanes still exist. The lesser servants of the overlord—its rakshasa and other fiend minions—return to the heart when they reform, and should an overlord's bonds be broken, it will recover its full strength in its heart realm.

Heart demiplanes are relatively small, around the size of a large city. Each reflects the overlord it's tied to in appearance and properties. Just as the shard-prison of an overlord's spirit can affect a region, portals to a heart realm often affect the surrounding area; what's believed to be a manifest zone to Shavarath might instead be a portal to the Bitter Shield. While the overlords aren't consciously present in their hearts, their essences still permeate them. Heart realms are typically inhabited by a host of lesser fiends bound to that overlord. Many have no desire to return to Eberron until their overlords are free, while others serve in the Lords of Dust, using the heart as a refuge. A couple hearts are described below, but there are at least thirty—one for each overlord.

Artist: Storn Cook
Artist: Storn Cook
The Bitter Shield: Rak Tulkhesh
Rak Tulkhesh's heart is a crimson fortress, with stones soaked in blood and walls studded with rusted iron spikes. Around the tower's base, rakshasas and other fiends endlessly battle, their pointless struggle reflecting the bloodlust of their master. Mordakhesh the Shadowsword often returns to the Bitter Shield between schemes, and is hailed as lord of the fortress.

The Bitter Shield has the Unquenchable Fury and Bloodletting properties of Shavarath.

The Tower of Shadows: Sul Khatesh
p148
The heart of Sul Khatesh is a tower built from black stone traced with silver. It glitters in the light of three unfamiliar crescent moons. Here, it's always night, and the servants of the Keeper of Secrets sing paeans to the moons as they perform bloody sacrifices and trace eldritch symbols in the soil. The tower holds a library of dark secrets, and beside it, a scriptorium where fiends scribe the books of shadows that may be given to mortal warlocks. Beneath the city of Ashtakala in the Demon Wastes lies a portal to the Tower of Shadows, and the rakshasa Hektula dwells here when she's not tending to the library of Ashtakala.

The Tower of Shadows has the Universal Understanding property of Syrania and the Eternal Shadows property of Mabar.

Prison Demiplanes
When something is described as being "trapped in Khyber," it usually means it's trapped in a demiplane somewhere in Khyber. The most infamous prisoners of Khyber are the daelkyr, but there may well be others—either immortal spirits or mortal creatures that were trapped in the demiplane by their enemies.

Dyrrn the Corruptor dwells in the Palace of Sinew, and Belashyrra in the Citadel of Lidless Eyes (both are described in Eberron: Rising From The Last War). Valaara is bound in the Deepest Hive, described in chapter 8 of this book. It's said that the daelkyr Orlassk dwells in a fortress carved into a giant gargoyle that roams the tunnels of Khyber; it could be that the gargoyle exists in Orlassk's prison realm, or perhaps the massive creature contains a portal to its prison.

When dealing with a prison demiplane, the DM will have to decide the limitations of the portals. In the case of the daelkyr demiplanes, the daelkyr can't leave them, but other creatures can freely enter or depart. So Dyrrn's minions can swarm out of the Palace of Sinew, but as long as the Gatekeepers' seals remain intact, Dyrrn itself cannot leave. The nature of the binding and the power of the daelkyr is such that they have shaped their demiplanes in their image, but lesser creatures could be trapped in more traditional prisons.

Shadow Demiplanes
Unlike heart and prison demiplanes, shadow demiplanes serve no clear purpose. They aren't prisons or fortresses of evil, but rather, strange reflections of the world. Much like Xoriat, they often defy natural logic—and this often gives them great value. Beneath the Ironroot Mountains in the Realm Below, the dwarves found a realm where precious stones grow on trees. In the Vale of the Inner Sun, creatures don't age.

Many sages call these "shadow demiplanes" because many seem to be shadows of other planes; the Abyssal Forest of Khaar is a reflection of Lamannia, while the Ironlands bears some resemblance to Shavarath. But in fact, demiplanes of Khyber have no ties to the other planes, nor are they touched by the natural influence of Eberron or the celestial light of Siberys. Perhaps the concepts woven into these demiplanes are echoes of Khyber's dreams or hints of what might have been... or perhaps their resemblance is inexplicable coincidence.

Shadow realms may hold important resources that can be used or harvested—but these regions always have a malevolent aspect. Fiends are common, and even mortal creatures that dwell there are sinister. Remaining in a shadow realm for too long is usually an invitation to corruption. There are countless shadow demiplanes, some small and others vast; those mentioned here are just a few examples.

The Abyssal Forest of Khaar
At first glance, this seems a primeval forest, but on closer inspection, it's filled with horrors. The demiplane is tangled in crimson vines filled with blood. It teems with monstrosities, twisted beasts that aren't as alien as the aberrations of the daelkyr, but just as deadly; even its most charming songbirds are carnivorous and cruel. The forest's strange vegetation can be used to make potions or deadly poisons, valuable resources—for those willing to brave its horrors. While in the Abyssal Forest of Khaar, any creature that's not naturally immune to poison damage becomes vulnerable to poison damage, and it has disadvantage on saving throws against poison.

The Ironlands
This realm's entire landscape is formed from metal. Adamantine trees grow razor-sharp leaves, and iron blades of grass cut through soft shoes. This demiplane, which has Shavarath's Bloodletting property, is home to bands of devils and demons that engage in their own endless wars. These fiends enjoy fighting and oppressing mortals, but fortunately, they can't leave their realm. The Ghaash'kala orcs of the Demon Wastes raid the Ironlands, pillaging weapons from the warrior fiends. The Kech Shaarat (see chapter 4) have expanded their deep vault into the Ironlands; over many centuries, these dar have established an alliance with one of the devil clans, allowing them to hold onto this territory. It's up to the DM to decide on the foundation of this alliance and whether the Shaarat can leverage it in other ways.

The Vale of the Inner Sun
A widespread cult of the Dragon Below believes that there is a paradise within Khyber, a place free from suffering and death. The Vale of the Inner Sun does exist, and it has the Stillness of Flesh property of Risia and the Light of Life property of Irian. However, there is a price to this immortality; creatures who dwell in the Vale for an extended time become slowly mutated, eventually turning into unique aberrations. The inhabitants of the Vale—some of whom have been there for centuries—have no love of outsiders, and visitors must prove their worth to bathe in the prismatic light of the Inner Sun.

House Orien and Demiplanes
Demiplanes can serve as wormholes to distant locations—a valuable means of transporting people and goods! Orien has discovered one such passage; its enclaves in the cities of Passage (in Aundair) and Varna (in the Eldeen Reaches) are built above portals that connect to a tiny, safe shadow demiplane. This allows Orien to move between these two cities within minutes. However, the two cities are already close and well connected, so this has remained a secret resource instead of being put to widespread commercial use.

Recently, however, the war and the Mourning have disrupted many of Orien's trade routes, and the development of the airship is threatening the house's dominance of overland travel. Desperate to regain security, Baron Kwanti d'Orien is actively searching for new demiplane channels. He dreams of finding a route providing safe, swift passage across the Mournland, which could become an Orien commercial route or even carry a lightning rail. But Kwanti has no idea just how dangerous demiplanes can be, and in these efforts, he could easily open doors that should've been left closed.

Daanvi: The Perfect Order
p149
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
There's a rhythm to Daanvi, a subtle metronome keeping perfect time. If you act without thinking, you unconsciously move to the beat. The streets may be crowded, but everyone walks at the same pace, every foot striking the ground at the same moment. It takes a conscious effort to break this rhythm, change the pattern, stand out from the crowd. Your instincts push you to fall in line, match the pattern, be part of the great machine.

This is Daanvi, the Perfect Order. It represents the triumph of law over lawlessness, of discipline over chaos. From the perfectly structured insect hives to the inevitable tribunals that judge every mortal action, this is a triumph of order. On the one hand, Daanvi shows how structure and discipline can create enduring systems, and how laws are the backbone of prosperous civilization. On the other hand, it can crush individuality and innovation. It shows that laws can serve justice, but they can also pose an endless series of obstacles, or even be the tools of tyrants. Daanvi encompasses all of these paths. It shows the benefits of law and order—and the risks of taking them too far.

Universal Properties
The impulse toward order affects all creatures in Daanvi. It's impossible to knowingly lie while in Daanvi, and the effects of random chance are reduced. In Daanvi, all things are inherently reliable—remarkable fortune and bad luck are equally rare.

Plane of Truth. A creature can't tell a deliberate lie. It can avoid answering questions, or be evasive in its answers, as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth.
Impeded Illusion. When a creature casts an illusion spell that has a duration of 1 minute or longer, the duration is halved.
The Eyes of the Law. When a creature casts a divination spell, its range is doubled; if that spell has a duration of at least 1 minute but less than 24 hours, the duration is also doubled.
No Chance. The first time in a round (or any time outside of combat) that a creature makes an attack roll, ability check, or saving throw (other than a death saving throw), treat the roll as a 10. If the creature has advantage or disadvantage on that roll, it only rolls one die, and treats the other one as a 10.
Flowing Time. For every 10 minutes that pass in Daanvi, only 1 minute passes in the Material Plane. So if a creature spends 10 days arguing a case before a Daanvian court, less than a day has passed on Eberron.
Denizens
All denizens of Daanvi either embody the concept of law and order or exist to be bound by it. Most modrons, angels, and devils perform administrative tasks as they serve as cogs in the grand machinery of their plane. Nearly all of Daanvi's inhabitants follow an unvarying daily cycle, each denizen limited by its jurisdiction. Some authorities can move freely and enforce laws in multiple layers. But a deva can't take action in the Iron Ward, even if it feels that an adventurer is suffering injustice, because that ward is under the jurisdiction of the local devils.

The angels and devils of Daanvi use normal statistics, but their appearance is similar to modrons and inevitables. They might have metallic skin or wings, or even look like living constructs. These immortals are creatures of absolute law and can't be compelled to break it or act against their nature. All celestials and fiends of Daanvi possess the following Axiomatic Mind trait:

Axiomatic Mind. The creature can't be compelled to act in a manner contrary to its nature or instructions.
Daanvi doesn't have a significant population of mortals, though there are other immortals in Daanvi beyond those explored by this section, each one representing a facet of the plane; for example, ant-like formians inhabit numerous layers of their own.

Modrons and Inevitables
Modrons, Daanvi's most common inhabitants, are embodiments of pure law, with no bias toward justice or oppression. They do their assigned tasks and obey every law; nothing more, nothing less. Monodrones can be found in many layers performing the most basic tasks. More sophisticated modrons perform endless administrative tasks and enforce basic laws.

Inevitables are powerful constructs dedicated to enforcing the law in all its aspects. Mighty maruts can be assigned to enforce specific contracts; note that these maruts have nothing to do with their counterparts in Dolurrh, just as the devils of Daanvi aren't related to those in Shavarath. The Justify trait of Daanvian maruts transports victims to the Hall of Justice in Daanvi.

In addition to the modrons and inevitables presented in the Monster Manual and Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes, all of which are found in Daanvi, there are others that serve specific tasks within the plane. In particular, an entity known as the Kolyarut resides beneath the Hall of Justice, with absolute authority over enforcing the law. The Kolyarut acts through a legion of host bodies, one of which serves on every inevitable tribunal; these beings are also called Kolyarut, though they're only representatives of the greater force.

Angels
The angels of Daanvi represent law in the service of justice and the greater good. These immortals enforce the laws, but also do their best to act fairly and to see that justice is done. While angels have duties to attend to and rarely have time to simply chat with random mortals, they're typically kind and helpful when they do have time. They believe with all their being that law and civilization are the most vital virtues of all, and that the law can't be set aside for any reason.

Devas and other angels of similar power are local authorities. They can be found as ministers, magistrates, and sages. A deva may be appointed to serve as a counselor for mortals called before an inevitable tribunal. The devas at the Infinite Archive serve as sages; modrons file and record, but the devas study the data and reflect on it. Meanwhile, powerful planetars serve as high ministers and guardians of important gates and sites.

Solars dwell in the Panopticon. There are thirteen solars, each assigned to monitor and administer justice within one of Eberron's planes (though no solar holds dominion over the Material Plane). However, there are a host of restrictions on how and when they may act. Typically, a solar must be invoked by a legitimate authority within the plane in question—so while Hazariel, the Solar of Syrania, is usually called in to cast down radiant idols, Azazar, the Solar of Xoriat, has never yet been called on by that plane. Until called, they watch; while in the Panopticon, solars can observe anything that occurs in the plane of their dominion. Shortly before the shift of the Quor Tarai that produced il-Lashtavar, Tyrala, the Solar of Dal Quor, went to investigate the actions that resulted in Dal Quor being thrown off its planar axis; she hasn't been seen since.

Devils
p150
The devils of Daanvi represent law in the service of tyranny and personal gain. In essence, they depict the danger of laws and how order can become an oppressive force. While the angels and devils of Daanvi despise one another, the strict laws determining jurisdiction mean that they rarely come into contact and almost never engage in combat—though it's common for a devil and an angel to be found in opposite positions arguing a case before an inevitable tribunal in the Hall of Justice.

Most often, devils are found in layers such as the Iron Ward, where they're cruel enforcers and tyrants. They can be encountered as guardians and sentinels, though they're invariably too harsh when it comes to performing their duties. Other devils seek to exploit loopholes and use the law to their advantage, extorting adventurers or otherwise using the law as a weapon. Orthons and erinyes apprehend lawbreakers, while pit fiends serve as executioners in the Hall of Justice.

Subjects
Every tyrant needs people to oppress, while every utopian society needs people to enjoy its just laws. The countless manifestations of Daanvi, called subjects, serve this purpose. They're humanoid, but their shape is indistinct. They provide the impression of a person—someone completely normal and unremarkable, often of the same species as the viewer—but no matter how hard anyone tries, it's impossible to actually focus on them. Conversations with subjects are surface-level at best, with no distinct personality or goals. Subjects pose no threat in combat, and are dispersed if they suffer any damage, only to reform within a few minutes.

Layers
Daanvi is home to hundreds of layers, and each is a metaphor for a particular aspect of order or civilization. Time is consistent across all layers, though in some, denizens work at all hours, while in others, there are strict regulations about what times certain activities are allowed. Daanvi has its own calendar, but denizens can easily translate it to the standard calendar of Galifar (or any other system) when dealing with visiting mortals.

Traveling to Daanvi using plane shift or similar abilities takes you to the Prime Gate. The portals between layers are clearly labeled and easily found, with angelic guides happy to provide assistance. Lesser portals are guarded by modrons, while major portals may be maintained by a horned devil or planetar. Travel passes can be obtained at the Prime Gate, though violating local ordinances can result in a revoked travel pass.

While some rules—such as the system of gateways and travel passes—are universal, every layer has its own distinct laws. Often these are typical—no theft, no assault except in selfdefense. However, layers may have unusual ordinances—no spellcasting illusion magic after noon. The scope of laws, punishment, and enforcement vary considerably based on the oppressiveness of the layer; is it generally just (administered by angels), even-handed (modrons), or oppressive (devils)? In gentler layers, lawbreakers receive an instructive warning from an angel; those in harsher layers aren't so lucky. In some cases, guardians administer an immediate punishment, as discussed in the "Daanvian Judgment" sidebar. More serious offenders may be taken to the Hall of Justice to face an inevitable tribunal.

Daanvian Judgement
What happens when characters break the laws of Daanvi? In theory, there's an incredibly complex Code of Justice that the Kolyarut uses to determine the ideal punishment. In practice, the punishment should fit the crime, but it depends on the district where the judgment takes place. An angel upholds the law but seeks to ensure that the punishment truly is fair; a devil may use the threat of a disproportionate punishment (entirely legitimate by the Code of Justice, of course) to drive extortion.

Physical punishments are possible, from beating to maiming (such as the loss of an eye or tongue) to execution. Such punishments are most common in oppressive layers. Imprisonment is rare, but possible, either in a local cell or the Inescapable Prison. Because of the flowing time of Daanvi, a hundred years in a Daanvi cell is only ten years on Eberron.

Fines are common, not because Daanvi needs revenue, but because it's easily adjusted to the individual. Fines like gold or property can be taken immediately, or future earnings might be garnished; perhaps half of all gold the character acquires immediately vanishes until the fine has been paid. Another common punishment is the judgment tattoo, a complex marking placed across the victim's face that can't be removed by any power short of a wish spell. Any creature that speaks a language can magically understand its meaning, conveyed in a simple concept like MURDERER or THIEF. A successful DC 15 Intelligence (Arcana) check allows a character to identify it as a judgment tattoo from Daanvi.

Other magical punishments could be imposed. The offender could experience the effects of bestow curse for a year or a lifetime. A liar could be unable to tell a lie for a year (though they can be evasive in their answers). A convict could be stripped of a particular talent, taking disadvantage on a specific skill check during their the sentence. They could be stripped of fame, and no one will give the victim credit for positive actions, though they can still receive blame for misdeeds. There are few limits on what an inevitable tribunal can do, and undoing such a judgment requires the power of a wish.

Some of Daanvi's most noteworthy layers are described below; other layers each express some form of order of civilization, though most are of little interest to adventurers. There are examples of utopian governance, mob justice, and countless other examples of law at work. The Perfect Grange is a vast, precisely maintained farm, displaying the virtues of agricultural discipline. Hive 43 is a formian settlement where immortal ant-like spirits care for their queen; if that doesn't strike your fancy, maybe one of the other 42 hives will!

The Prime Gate
Imagine Terminus Station in Sharn, but instead of skycoaches and rail tickets, portals lead to different layers. Hundreds of subjects and modrons mill about, standing in orderly queues as they wait to pass through a portal. By Daanvian law, all travelers must pass through the Prime Gate, where plane shift and astral travel deposit adventurers. If people enter Daanvi through some other means, they're in violation of the law—never a good idea.

While the Prime Gate's bustling appearance suggests Daanvi is as welcoming to travelers as Syrania, most traffic consists of local commuters moving between layers. Extraplanar visitors must acquire travel passes from the Passage Authority; how difficult this is depends on the tone of the Authority when you arrive... and this shifts from day to day. If the Authority is just, the angels keep it moving quickly and smoothly; as long as you truly have a valid reason for your travel, you should be able to pass. If the Authority is even-handed, it's managed by modrons; it's possible to get through, but there are immense lines and a lot of redundant paperwork. In addition to having a clearly stated reason for travel, Modrons might only provide access to specific layers, or impose restrictions—"You'll have to drink that potion now or throw it away." And if the Authority is oppressive that day, the devils on duty make it a living hell; the question is whether they're more interested in extortion or tormenting travelers with bureaucratic burdens. Do they want a bribe? Do you need to perform a service for them? This is an archetypal abuse of power; what makes a good story?

The Panopticon
p151
In the grand tower of the Panopticon, a host of immortals monitor events occurring across Eberron's planes. Countless modrons observe crystal balls. There are chambers in which angels and devils stand around wide scrying pools, replaying recent events. And in the highest chamber of the Panopticon, twelve solars—with one seat empty—contemplate the events occurring in the planes they are bound to and wait to be summoned by the authorities of those planes.

The Panopticon is larger than the entire city of Sharn. Different sections are devoted to each of the planes, and some immortals have spent countless years monitoring a particular location or creature. It holds the most powerful and sophisticated scrying network in existence, dwarfing the capabilities of even the dragons of Argonnessen. However, this system is not intended to benefit mortals. Adventurers must have an exceptional reason to secure a travel pass allowing admittance to the Panopticon, and the immortals who work there are not inclined to answer questions.

The Hall of Justice
The Hall of Justice is an immense complex containing an impossible number of courts and chambers of inquiry. In smaller chambers, immortals debate the actions of the beings observed in the Panopticon. There are angels discussing the Treaty of Thronehold, while inevitables dissect the latest actions in the endless wars of Shavarath. These debates are pro forma; while a judgment is made and recorded in the Infinite Archive, no action is ever taken. The weightier matters are resolved before an inevitable tribunal, led by a Kolyarut, an inevitable representative of the great arbiter of impartial justice whose spirit permeates the hall itself. The tribunal is typically filled out with a planetar and an amnizu, each working to sway the Kolyarut's deciding vote to their side.

Adventurers who violate the laws of Daanvi are brought before an immortal tribunal. Usually this is a straightforward matter; the judges question the accused. The accused is granted an Advocate and opposed by a Voice of Justice; typically one of these is an angel, the other a devil. Both of these immortals may conjure images from the lives of the accused, drawing on the records gathered from the Panopticon. Such a case could be resolved quickly, but depending on protocols invoked or evidence sought ("Your honors, I'd like to show you three years of the defendant's childhood"), a case can take quite a long time. Luckily for the accused, the Flowing Time property of Daanvi ensures that when—or if—they return to the Material Plane, time has passed for their friends and foes much more slowly.

Once a case is resolved, the inevitable tribunal enacts their judgment; this ruling is final, and can't be questioned or appealed. The "Daanvian Judgment" sidebar presents ideas for penalties that might be imposed on a wrongdoer.

Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
The Infinite Archive
p152
Dolurrh's Library merely contains records of every mortal soul that's passed through it. By contrast, Daanvi's Infinite Archive contains records on every being that's ever existed. Here, the data gathered by the Panopticon and the rulings of the Hall of Justice are recorded and efficiently preserved. Records focus on each individual's deeds, whether they've adhered to or violated countless codes of legal and moral standards. Daanvi doesn't generally do anything with this data; they have no jurisdiction to act on it. So through your life, the immortals of Daanvi have watched and judged your every action. You aren't rewarded or punished for your deeds, but they know what you've done, and it's forever preserved on your permanent record.

Mortals must present an excellent reason—or bribe a devil—to get access to the Archive, but it's not as restricted as the Panopticon. The Infinite Archive lives up to its name, and is unknowably vast. If adventurers have a legitimate inquiry, a deva sage can be quite helpful. Working with modrons is a long and tedious process, while devils make it even more unpleasant.

The Iron Ward
The Iron Ward, a city of gray stone, embodies the worst aspects of oppressive law. Councilor Alashta, a cruel amnizu, wields absolute power and can't be questioned or challenged. Most of the subjects of the ward are indentured servants, trapped in inescapable contracts; visitors must be careful not to accept any offers of work in the ward, lest they be similarly trapped. There are regular displays of brutal "justice" in the grand plaza. Imps scurry in the shadows, watching outsiders and carrying news of their actions to the chain devils and erinyes that serve as the brutal police force. While they can't punish adventurers "unjustly," they can tempt visitors into misconduct; fiendish merchants and patrons have many appealing offers for adventurers, but almost all would surely lead to breaking a law of the ward, obscure and ridiculous as it may be.

While the Iron Ward symbolizes the evils of oppressive order, it is driven by order. The police and councilors twist the law and weaponize it, but ultimately even they must obey the laws—the one advantage adventurers have in passing through this place. And while the subjects of the Iron Ward are brutally oppressed, they're largely symbolic; it's questionable if the subjects even exist when no one's around to observe their suffering.

The Inescapable Prison
Maintained by devils, this oppressive layer is the embodiment of prison—the inevitable consequence of challenging the law. With the full power of Daanvi behind it, the Inescapable Prison makes Dreadhold look like a cell in the local sheriff's office. It's designed to hold celestials, elementals, and other beings with vast power; there are convicts here from a half-dozen planes of existence. Mortals can also be imprisoned here; their biological processes are put in suspension, so they don't need to eat or drink, and they don't age. It's rare for mortals to end up here, but there may be a few legendary historical figures, long thought dead, who have instead been held in the Inescapable Prison!

Planar Manifestations
Here are a few ways Daanvi can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Daanvi—which are relatively uncommon—often share one or more of the plane's universal properties. Zones with the Plane of Truth property are often used as makeshift courtrooms by local communities, and a number of the largest courthouses in the Five Nations are built in such zones. Intelligence agencies are always searching for zones with the Eyes of the Law property. Other zones simply reflect the unnatural order of the plane—crops innately grow in perfect rows, or residents find they are more naturally inclined to follow orders. Unsubstantiated legends tell of modrons appearing in manifest zones, attempting to "repair" any local buildings and redesigning them to match the architecture of the Perfect Order.

Coterminous and Remote
Daanvi has coterminous and remote periods, but unlike those of other planes, these have no obvious effects. Some sages believe it may impact the performance of certain rituals or the creation of eldritch machines, and others try to link the rise of major civilizations to coterminous periods, but any supporting examples could be entirely coincidental. Daanvi is noteworthy for its exceptionally long cycle. Traditionally, when Daanvi becomes coterminous, it remains so for an entire century; one hundred years after that, it becomes remote for a century.

Daanvian Artifacts
Daanvi does two things remarkably well: watch people and punish them. Adventurers could come into possession of an exceptional crystal ball that's been stolen from the Panopticon, or a set of dimensional shackles lost by an orthon bounty hunter. Another way that people on the Material Plane can interact with Daanvi is through an unbreakable contract. In the Hall of Justice, any two creatures can negotiate a contract before a Kolyarut. The terms are inscribed on an enchanted sheet of gold (worth 5,000 gp) and bound to a marut, which acts to enforce the contract. On Eberron, a powerful conjurer could use planar ally or a similar spell to summon a Kolyarut to set a contract (though they must provide the gold).

Daanvian Stories
Daanvi rarely intervenes in daily life, and people don't often think of it due to its lack of dramatic coterminous and remote cycles. Except for those who live near manifest zones, it doesn't intrude on people's lives. The main way Daanvi impacts adventures is if the party needs to get something from the plane itself—they might need knowledge contained in the Infinite Archive, or to know something that can only be seen from the Panopticon. However, they'll have to have a solid case to get past the Prime Gate... or be prepared to bribe a devil.

The Wynarn Report. After an ambush gone wrong, the adventurers find themselves in possession of a file stolen from the Infinite Archive—an indestructible journal containing deep and dangerous knowledge about someone very important. A king? The patriarch of a dragonmarked house? This could be ruinous if it falls into the wrong hands, and it's possible that the Archive will send someone—or something—to recover it. Since it can't be destroyed, what will they do with it?
The Trial. After an adventuring mishap on another plane—perhaps in the Immeasurable Market, as Syrania is most likely to invoke Daanvi's justice—the adventurers are collected by a solar and must account for their actions before an inevitable tribunal.
The Convict. A longtime ally of the adventurers always wears a mask. During a battle, the mask is knocked aside, revealing a judgment tattoo that signifies LIAR. Is there a reasonable explanation for this?
The Contract. The adventurers are negotiating a contract they don't intend to uphold, but the other party has a surprise; using a scroll of planar ally, a Kolyarut inevitable is called to establish an unbreakable contract. Can the adventurers find a way around this? Will they accept the contract's terms, or face the wrath of the marut and judgment in Daanvi?
Dal Quor: The Region of Dreams
p153
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Dal Quor is both impossibly distant and remarkably close. Tens of thousands of years ago, the giants of Xen'drik shattered the ties between Dal Quor and the Material Plane. Since then, it's been permanently remote, and no naturally occurring manifest zone to Dal Quor has been discovered. Not even plane shift or astral travel can allow direct contact with the Region of Dreams. And yet, it's also the closest of the planes—to visit, just close your eyes. Dreaming is a form of spiritual travel, as your mortal consciousness is drawn to Dal Quor.

Dal Quor is the realm of dreams, a place of imagination where memory and emotion can shape reality. The stories of Thelanis bring people together in a shared tale; by contrast, the dreams of Dal Quor are unique, individual, and fleeting. They're defined by our experiences and desires, and we rarely remember them when they're over. Dreams allows us to sift through our subconscious, and they are ours alone—or at least, they should be... if they aren't manipulated by an outside force. The denizens of Dal Quor reflect the secondary theme of the plane, and—for now, at least—that theme is nightmares. The quori prey on mortal dreams, twisting them to produce the emotions they crave. This doesn't mean all dreams are nightmares—but when a quori takes an interest in your dream, it'll usually become one.

Universal Properties
Dal Quor is a place where impossible things are possible and the surroundings can change in the blink of an eye. What differentiates it from Kythri and Xoriat is that these changes are drawn from the minds of dreamers, both from the mortal subconscious and the ancient dreams of il-Lashtavar itself. Even when you're exploring someone else's dreams, your desires and memories can infect the landscape. The Shifting Dreams table provides ideas for how a dream could change.

Extremely Morphic. The environment of Dal Quor can shift at any moment. These changes are generally drawn from the mind of the current dreamer, but at the DM's discretion, the thoughts of adventurers might impact another creature's dream that they're currently experiencing.
Extended Illusion. When a creature casts an illusion spell with a duration of 1 minute or longer, the duration is doubled. Spells with a duration of 24 hours or more are unaffected.
Flowing Time. For every 10 minutes that pass in Dal Quor, only 1 minute passes on the Material Plane. While sleeping for 8 hours, a creature could spend 3 days in Dal Quor.
The Turning of the Age
The layers of Dal Quor are shaped by dreaming minds. The quori believe the heart of Dal Quor is itself the dream of an immense, ancient spirit, and that they themselves are simply part of its dream. They call this the Quor Tarai—the Dream of the Age. But there's a catch: every dream ends when the dreamer wakes up. Forty thousand years ago, the giants of Xen'drik fought a war with Dal Quor—but none of the current quori remember this war or anything that happened before it. They believe this is because the Quor Tarai came to an end. Dal Quor woke from its dream, then immediately returned to its slumber and began to dream again... but it was a new dream, with entirely new quori.

The quori call this transition the Turning of the Age. They don't know how many times it's happened before, and they know nothing about the quori of the previous age. But they believe that each incarnation of the Quor Tarai has its own distinct flavor. The present Quor Tarai is il-Lashtavar, the Great Darkness that Dreams. It's malevolent and cruel, and that's reflected by the quori it's created. But a handful of quori didn't fit in this dream. These are the quori that became the kalashtar, who consider themselves harbingers of transformation. The kalashtar believe that the next incarnation of the Quor Tarai will be an age of hope and compassion; they call it il-Yannah, the Great Light.

So all quori know that one day, Dal Quor will wake from its dream, and when it does, all existing quori will be destroyed. This drives the conflict between the kalashtar and the Dreaming Dark. The kalashtar believe their devotions and meditation slowly turn the wheel toward a dream of light. Meanwhile, the agents of the Dreaming Dark believe they can permanently anchor the Quor Tarai in the current age, if only they can control enough mortal dreams—a process begun with Sarlona. It's up to the DM to decide if the kalashtar can usher in a new age over the course of the campaign, or if the Dreaming Dark will maintain the status quo. If the Turning of the Age occurs, all existing quori will be destroyed and reborn; no one knows what this will do to the kalashtar or foreign creations like the Uul Dhakaan.

Denizens
The quori, children of il-Lashtavar, are the most numerous of the native spirits of Dal Quor. But quori aren't the only creatures dreamers can encounter in the Region of Dreams.

Dreamers
At any given moment, there are millions of dreaming minds creating islands in Dal Quor. Humans, orcs, giants, dragons—any creature that dreams can be found in this plane.

A rare few dreamers are lucid and in full control of their actions, due to either training or magic; these are capable of leaving their own dreams and moving between the plane's dream islands and layers. However, the vast majority of dreamers aren't lucid. They're driven by their subconscious, and react based on instinct and deep desires; they likely won't remember the events of a dream clearly. Either way, when a dreamer dies in their dream, they wake up; however, this death can still have consequences, as Eberron: Rising from the Last War describes in "The Dreaming Dark" section of chapter 4.

Figments and Drifters
p154
When you have a dream and you meet your old drill sergeant, it's not actually your old drill sergeant, and it's (probably) not a quori. It's simply a figment, manifested from the void by Dal Quor. When you wake up—or even just leave the scene—this manifestation vanishes, absorbed back into the essence of the plane. A figment can be anything—a friend of yours, a zombie version of that friend, a demon, a dragon—but the catch is that it's drawn from the mind of the local dreamer. When you dream about your old drill sergeant, they can't tell you a secret you don't already know, because they're part of you. On the other hand, if you're in someone else's dream—or if a quori has taken control of your dream—then the figments can surprise you, because their capabilities and knowledge are drawn from someone else's mind.

A figment could use the statistics of the creature it represents, or it might be limited, as the dreamer doesn't know what it's actually capable of. Conversely, a figment goblin could have the statistics of an ogre—in this dream, that's one tough goblin.

Occasionally, a remarkable figment develops the ability to persist beyond the dream that created it—becoming a truly sentient spirit instead of a simple manifestation. Such figments might be useful guides or allies for mortal dreamers, or become predators that travel from dream to dream and prey on mortal fears. Such free-willed figments are called drifters.

The Quori
The quori themselves are figments—figments of il-Lashtavar, the current Dream of the Age. However, these figments are immortal, and don't disappear when a mortal's dream ends; if they're destroyed, they're simply reborn within the heart of il-Lashtavar. Like other figments, they come into existence knowing the role they are supposed to play: they are shapers of nightmares. Each type of quori feeds on a particular emotion; tsucora quori craft terrifying nightmares so they can feast on mortal fear, while the du'ulora thrive on anger.

When a quori enters a dream, it can create new figments, alter the story's script, or change its own appearance (though its statistics remain the same). If the invading quori is killed within the dream, the story reverts to the original script, so most quori prefer to remain in the background while shaping a dream; however, some are arrogant and can't resist playing a starring role. The quori don't create every nightmare; there are millions of dreamers, while the quori number only in the thousands. But the nightmares they personally create are works of art.

In the first days of il-Lashtavar, the quori had no purpose aside from preying on mortal dreams. Now they believe they're fighting for their survival, and they use their abilities to manipulate mortals and the waking world. But always remember that the quori began as crafters of nightmares, and consider how each quori's favorite emotion may color its actions.

Interlopers
Some creatures in Dal Quor are neither figments nor mortal dreamers. Night hags freely come and go, collecting nightmares for their own purposes. Here are some other interlopers.

The Fey of the Fading Dream. Taer Lian Doresh is a feyspire, one of the eladrin cities of Thelanis. Long ago, the tyrant empyrean Cul'sir cursed the feyspire and cast it into Dal Quor. Caught in the transformation of the Quor Tarai, these eladrin became embodiments of classic nightmares, and ease their pain by spreading fear among mortals. (They can be represented using shadar-kai stat blocks, but aren't shadar-kai and have no ties to Dolurrh's Queen of the Dead.)
Taer Lian Doresh now exists between Dal Quor and the Material Plane. The eladrin of this feyspire can freely pass to both planes, but other creatures can only enter Taer Lian Doresh and return to their plane of origin; they can't use it as a portal to the other plane. Thus, quori and adventurers can walk the halls of the Fading Dream together, but the quori can't cross over to physically enter Eberron itself, nor can the denizens of the Material Plane (including eladrin of other feyspires, humans, and all other creatures of Eberron) enter Dal Quor.

The Draconic Eidolon. Many dragons of Argonnessen believe they can attain immortality after death, passing through Dolurrh and becoming divine beings. However, some aren't willing to take that chance; using an eldritch machine hidden deep in Argonnessen, the most powerful can perform a ritual that tethers their spirits to a psychic anchor in Dal Quor. This Draconic Eidolon, a monument in the Ocean of Dreams, holds the souls of dragons long dead instead of releasing them to Dolurrh. The dragons no longer exist physically; like the Undying Court, they're a union of spirits, possessing greater power together than they would individually. They can't leave the Eidolon, but possess vast knowledge—secrets of history, insight into the Prophecy, and knowledge of epic magic. They have much to offer, but what do adventurers have that the dreams of dead dragons might want?
Layers
Dal Quor doesn't have layers like other planes. Instead, it can be seen as a vast ocean. When a mortal dreams, they fall into that ocean and create an "island": a dream pocket, shaped by their memories and desires. When they wake, this island disappears. So at any given moment, Dal Quor contains millions of islands, but none last for long. A passive dreamer can't leave their own island, but a lucid dreamer can find ways to travel between them. Typically this involves portals, doors within a dream that have a psychic connection to the destination—but it's also possible to break through the psychic border of an island, to fly to another island on a ship of dreams or an imaginary winged beast.

These flickering islands orbit the stable core of the realm, the dark heart of the Quor Tarai. In addition to the regions discussed below, there may be other permanent islands in the Ocean of Dreams, following the example of the Uul Dhakaan and the Draconic Eidolon. Who created the island, and what sustains it?

The Ocean of Dreams. A vast expanse of psychic space surrounds il-Lashtavar, home to millions of mortal dreams. The islands in the Ocean of Dreams range from the complex dreamscapes of sentient creatures, humans and dragons alike, to the simple dream of a dog that's imagining chasing a ball. From the outside, these islands appear as glittering bubbles, each with an image of its dreamer within it. They're loosely arranged based on the physical location of the dreamer, so there's a stretch of the ocean that contains dreamers near Breland, another for Thrane, and so on—including regions for any dreamers currently on other planes.
The Riedran Sea. Over centuries, the Inspired have built a network of monoliths in Riedra, psychic anchors called hanbalani altas. These allow them to control everyone's dreams over a vast radius. Dreams are typically tailored to the region, including local news and instructions. However, if they choose, the Inspired can broadcast a single dream to all of Sarlona. Within Dal Quor, this manifests as a distinctive region of the Ocean of Dreams—an array of hundreds of thousands of islands, dream-bubbles arranged in perfect symmetrical rows, with identical images in each bubble.
The Uul Dhakaan. Jhazaal Dhakaan united the dar through an act of epic bardic magic. When the dar dream, they don't create their own islands in the Ocean. Instead, they are drawn to a vast, ongoing dream—the Uul Dhakaan, as discussed in chapter 4. This is a vision of what the Dhakaani Empire could and should be, and it encompasses many cities and fortresses. In addition to the spirits of dreaming dar, this enormous dream is filled with countless figments—both background soldiers, artisans, and facsimiles of legendary champions whose memories have been preserved. Most dar aren't lucid dreamers and they don't fully remember the time they spend in the Uul Dhakaan, but it reinforces Dhakaani values and traditions. If adventurers want to experience what the Dhakaani Empire was at its height—and what it could be again—they can find it here. Chot'uul guardians maintain outposts throughout the dream, along with a great monastery in the capital city. The magic woven into the dream ensures that the throne in the imperial palace remains empty—for now. But when a new emperor is chosen and has the support of the majority of the dar, they'll hold the throne in the Uul Dhakaan as well as in the Material Plane.
Il-Lashtavar. The dark heart of Dal Quor, il-Lashtavar, is the current incarnation of the Quor Tarai. This vast dreamscape, orbited by the Ocean of Dreams, is the source and home of the quori. It's a menagerie of nightmares, a showcase of terrors that haunt the dreams of mortals. On the edges of il-Lashtavar, corpses dangle from the trees of a haunted orchard. Blood drips from the leaves of a terrifying topiary maze. While the basic form of these nightmares is stable, they feed on the psyches of nearby mortals. Adventurers walking through the orchard see the hanging corpses as the people they most care about, or even as themselves—whatever is most disturbing to each intruder.
Those who press through this outer ring of nightmares find the great fortress-city of the Devourer of Dreams, the kalaraq quori who coordinates the actions of the Dreaming Dark on Eberron. The quori spirits tied to agents of the Dreaming Dark and the Inspired can return here whenever they choose, reporting to the Devourer and coordinating with other quori. The flowing time works to their advantage, as an hour in Dal Quor is just a few minutes on Eberron. The fortress itself is ever shifting; it might be formed from black twisted roots, or the walls could be blood-soaked spiderwebs. At the very center is a pool of shadows. It's here that newborn quori emerge when they're reincarnated, and here that the Devourer of Dreams descends into the pool to commune with the Great Darkness.

Il-Lashtavar is the most dangerous place in Dal Quor. At any given time, there are hundreds or even thousands of quori here. The Great Darkness doesn't act directly, but its presence can be felt in how the environment shifts to showcase the nightmares of intruders. Dreamers who die in this place can be trapped the same way kalaraq bind the souls of their victims. Only the most powerful and prepared adventurers should enter il-Lashtavar.

In those regions of il-Lashtavar that appear to be outdoors, adventurers may notice a dark, nearly invisible moon in the sky. A sage with considerable skill in History or Arcana may recognize this as the moon Crya, thought to be destroyed in the Age of Giants. Perhaps it was thrown into Dal Quor and could somehow be returned, restoring the plane to its proper orbit—or perhaps this is only il-Lashtavar dreaming of the lost moon.

Planar Manifestations
Ever since the Age of Giants, it's been nearly impossible to physically interact with Dal Quor from the Material Plane. This forces the quori tied to the kalashtar and the Inspired to act through mortal agents. The only denizens of Dal Quor that can easily enter the world are the fey of the Fading Dream. The plane is always remote; undoing this damage would be an epic quest, potentially returning the thirteenth moon to the sky. But even at a distance, Dal Quor can affect the waking world.

Dreams. The primary way that Dal Quor manifests in the world is through dreams. Chapter 4 of Eberron: Rising from the Last War discusses the roles that dreams can play in a campaign.
Manifest Zones. The metaphysical damage caused in the conflict between Dal Quor and the giants of Xen'drik broke the ties between Eberron and Dal Quor. There are no naturally occurring manifest zones to Dal Quor, and even plane shift won't allow travel there. However, though natural manifest zones don't exist, anything is possible with an eldritch machine, whether in the hands of the Dreaming Dark pursuing subtle conquest, or simply an eccentric artificer seeking the advancement of arcane science.
Quori Artifacts. While it's rare to encounter objects on Eberron that come from Dal Quor, the Inspired of Sarlona create objects using quori techniques. The primary substance used in quori objects is a form of solidified emotion called sentira. It has an opalescent, organic texture similar to polished horn; the color depends on the emotion used in its creation, and the wearer can feel that emotion as a constant background presence in their mind. As a material, sentira is light and extremely strong, similar to mithral; an agent of the Dreaming Dark might wear armor that's functionally mithral armor but actually made from sentira. Quori items generally enhance telepathy or other psychic effects; a ring of mind shielding or crystal ball of mind reading would be logical creations of the quori.
Quori Stories
Chapter 4 of Eberron: Rising from the Last War provides story ideas related to dreams and the Dreaming Dark. Adventures can also use the kra'uul and uul'kur from chapter 7 of this book.

Familiar Figments, Figment Familiars. The adventurers discover their dreams all share the same figure, appearing regularly to each of them. It could be humanoid (a childhood friend, an old mentor), a shapechanging raven, or a talking purple cat. It was once merely a figment of one of their dreams, but it's become a drifter, able to move between dreams. It could offer advice, carry messages to characters when they're separated from friends, or warn of things it's seen in the dreams of their enemies.
The Treacherous Whisper. A single fortress in the Uul Dhakaan has become infected by a daelkyr curse, turning the figments within it into aberrations. Can this be contained and cleansed before it spreads and destroys the dream itself?
The Fortress of the Fading Dream. Taer Lian Doresh exists on the edge of Dal Quor, where mortals and quori meet face to face. The tsucora Astaleth has recently turned to the Path of Light and is hiding within the fortress; if she leaves, she'll be consumed by il-Lashtavar. Can adventurers find a way to save the rebel quori? Why is the leader Shan Lian Doresh allowing her to shelter in his hall?
Dolurrh: The Realm of the Dead
p156
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Endless caverns stretch throughout Dolurrh, bleak passages of gray stone. Wherever you go, shadowy figures reach toward you, imploring, but you feel only the faintest chill as their insubstantial fingers pass through you. Mist pools around your feet, and as you press forward, you realize this swirling mist is moaning. This is no natural phenomenon; these are the remnants of souls who have forgotten themselves. This is Dolurrh. It's not the embodiment of the idea of death or dying, both of which are reflected in Mabar. Rather, Dolurrh is where mortal souls go after their bodies die, where memories fade and lives are forgotten.

Mortal spirits are drawn to Dolurrh within moments of death, and their memories begin to decay immediately. Within days, most spirits no longer have any desire to leave Dolurrh, and within weeks, most only have the faintest memories of their previous lives. The faiths of Aerenal and the Blood of Vol assert that Dolurrh is the absolute end of existence, the last echoes of a life before it's completely gone. But when Dorius Alyre ir'Korran drew his classic planar map (seen at the beginning of this book), he used the Octogram symbol of the Sovereign Host to represent Dolurrh, because he declared it to be the door through which all mortals must pass to join with the Sovereigns. This has come to be a common view: what appears to be memory fading is actually the soul slowly ascending to a higher form of existence, rising to a level of reality no mortal can experience. The Vassals of the Sovereign Host say the faithful finally join the Sovereigns; followers of the Silver Flame say that noble souls strengthen the Flame. What is left is only a husk—the cast-off remnants, like an abandoned snakeskin or the traces of memory that can be read using speak with dead. Thus, while Dolurrh has long been known as the Realm of the Dead, many call it the Gateway. Ultimately, this is a matter of faith—whether the other side of Dolurrh is oblivion or paradise, no one ever returns from it.

The sage Annolysse of Arcanix declared that Dolurrh must be the thirteenth plane, for it has no opposite. It doesn't embody an idea so much as it serves a purpose—that of gathering, collecting, and (perhaps) transitioning souls. Mortal actions are judged in Daanvi; by contrast, Dolurrh doesn't judge and it doesn't punish. It's simply the end of the journey—or depending how you look at it, the beginning of a new one.

All living creatures come to Dolurrh, sooner or later. Those that come here before death are almost always looking for something—a lost soul, a forgotten memory. But living or dead, any who come to Dolurrh can be trapped by its power.

Universal Properties
Everything about Dolurrh is gray and gloomy. Even the brightest colors seem faded, the most joyful sounds seem dull. The heavy weight of ennui settles on travelers the moment they arrive, making even the simplest tasks feel challenging. And there's a constant pull, tugging on memory and emotion, a desire to just sit down and let it all go.

Eternal Ennui. When a creature enters Dolurrh, it immediately gains one level of ennui (described in the "Ennui" sidebar). While in Dolurrh, this level of ennui can't be removed by rest or by any other means. It's immediately removed when the creature leaves Dolurrh. Creatures native to Dolurrh are immune to this property's effects.
Impeded Magic. In order to cast a spell of 1st level or higher, a creature must succeed on a spellcasting ability check with a DC equal to 10 + the level of the spell. On a failed check, the spell is not cast and its spell slot is not expended, but the action is lost.
Inevitable Entrapment. Whenever a creature finishes a short or long rest, it must make a DC 12 Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, it gains one level of ennui. Each time it makes this saving throw, the DC increases by 1. Whenever a creature ends a 24-hour period without finishing a long rest, it must make this saving throw as if it had just finished a rest, but its roll is made with disadvantage. Creatures native to Dolurrh are immune to this property's effects.
Timeless. Time passes at the same rate as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers. Creatures can benefit from resting, suffer damage, and die. However, a creature on Dolurrh doesn't age, and doesn't need to eat, sleep, or drink.
Ennui
Ennui drains motion and memory, reflecting the soul-sapping power of Dolurrh. This special condition is measured in levels, and has the same effects and rules as exhaustion (as presented in appendix A of the Player's Handbook), with one exception—ennui affects all creatures that aren't native to Dolurrh, including undead and other creatures immune to exhaustion. Ennui is separate from exhaustion, and exhaustion levels don't stack with ennui. If a creature has both ennui and exhaustion, use whichever condition it has more levels of to determine the effects.

Undead can't recover from ennui while in Dolurrh. Whenever a living creature with 2 or more levels of ennui finishes a long rest, if it succeeds against its saving throw against Dolurrh's Inevitable Entrapment property by 5 or more, it reduces its ennui level by 1. When a creature leaves Dolurrh, all levels of ennui are removed.

When a creature reaches 6 levels of ennui, its will is completely broken and it can take no purposeful action; if this happens to a living creature, its physical body dies and it becomes a husk bound to Dolurrh.

Denizens
In many ways, Dolurrh is a machine. The pull that draws spirits to Dolurrh is a mechanical effect, part of the fundamental nature of souls. The denizens of Dolurrh are the cogs of that machine, here to keep the system running.

The Quick
p157
The native creatures of Dolurrh are bound to the cycle of transition, and all have some role to serve in this process. All of the Quick are immune to the ennui condition.

Nalfeshnee demons patrol the Catacombs of Dolurrh, dispersing melds and lemures and dealing with mortal intruders. They appear as large humanoids whose features are shrouded in gray mist, and they delight in crushing mortals and pulling the shades from their corpses, as well as consuming lemures.

Marut inevitables are powerful guardians, crafted in the Crucible of Dolurrh, forged from husksteel, and tasked to preserve the cycle of life and death. Maruts are occasionally dispatched to Eberron to intervene with acts of resurrection, or when a lich or mummy is created. No one's sure what triggers this deadly intervention—perhaps the resurrection defied the Prophecy—but Jorasco healers always cast augury before raising the dead. If the result is "woe," they refuse the job, lest a Dolurrhi marut appear, destroying the resurrected creature, its healer, and possibly the whole healing house in the process.

Shadar-kai are servants of the Queen of the Dead, shades granted new life. Though their new forms appear elf-like, they might've been any sort of humanoid in their previous life; when they caught the Queen's attention, she preserved their soul from entrapment. The shadar-kai serve in the Vault of Memories, and occasionally as her hands on Eberron. They might clash with necromancers (especially the agents of Lady Illmarrow), collect trinkets, or target mortals with no rhyme or reason. Many sages attempt to explain these enigmatic actions, often speculating that they're collecting especially tragic memories for the Vault.

Other denizens of Dolurrh are unique, such as the Librarian, found in the Vault of Memories, and the Smith of Souls, who dwells in the Crucible.

The Dead
The spirits of those who have died are omnipresent in Dolurrh, from shades huddled in the shadows to layers of moaning mist. The Dead might be considered manifestations of Dolurrh, but the plane didn't actually create them—all were once mortals. Shades are mortal souls that are freshly arrived in Dolurrh. They maintain a portion of their memory and original appearance, though they're insubstantial and can't interact with material objects.

Shades are susceptible to ennui, and as they gain levels, their appearance blurs and their memories slowly fade. Shades can speak, and they may cry or beg adventurers to help them; however, most are incapable of taking any actions on their own. They're often found lost in thought, trying to remember something they've forgotten, or fixating on a past mistake.

Husks are harmless shades that have been overcome by ennui and possess only the vaguest memories of their mortal existence. Most retain a semblance of their mortal shape, but they continue to fade over decades, eventually merging with other husks to form masses of moaning mist. Having no true consciousness of their own, husks are immune to ennui's effects. Occasionally, a group of husks cluster around a strong memory, forming an ectoplasmic mass that prowls in search of more scraps of memory, absorbing other husks. Such a creature is called a meld, and its statistics are provided in chapter 8.

Ghosts are formed when a shade clings to a particular memory with such intensity that even Dolurrh can't completely eradicate it—perhaps a terrible mistake or a bitter grudge. The rest of the spirit's memories fade, and it becomes immune to ennui, but this ember remains, defining its existence. Ghosts are driven by a primal desire to return to Eberron, to haunt the place where they died or where their anchoring memory was forged; they might escape to the Material Plane when Dolurrh is coterminous or when a resurrection goes wrong. Ghosts that are destroyed eventually reform; they can only find peace if their unfinished business is resolved.

Other forms of undead are rarely seen in Dolurrh. The entities found in this plane are the spirits of the dead, slowly fading, transitioning—or trapped in that process. Corporeal undead such as ghouls, skeletons, and zombies have no place here, while undead that hunger to consume life belong in Mabar.

The Lingering
Memories of joy and happiness do no harm in Dolurrh. But memories of pain, of cruelty, of anger... these don't fade so easily, and they can hurt others. Even if they don't trap shades as ghosts, this psychic residue can build up in the gears of the spiritual machinery of Dolurrh. It often takes the presence of a mortal to trigger it; when this occurs, the lingering pain and hate coalesces into a solid form. The least of these are lemures, formed from hateful memories or deeds. The emotional residue of hundreds or thousands of people can form deadly sorrowsworn—the Angry, the Hungry, the Lonely, the Lost, and the Wretched—as presented in Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes. The Lingering are formed in Dolurrh and are immune to ennui, but they're a waste product, not the plane's desired result. As such, nalfeshnee, maruts, and other guardians destroy the Lingering whenever they are found.

The Queen of the Dead
The Queen of the Dead, the most powerful being in Dolurrh, dwells in the great spire that rises up above the Vault of Memories. Little is known about her motives or her origins; curiously, she focuses on the Material Plane far more than most great planar powers do. Though she existed long before the elves, the Queen appears as an elf woman, her face hidden by a cracked alabaster mask, her robes of black feathers trimmed with silver. She can pluck shades from the cycle of entrapment, and even grant them new life, creating shadar-kai by housing them in new bodies. Other souls, she saves but doesn't restore, preserving them in the Vault of Memories. She collects secrets and memories, plucking her favorites from those gathered by the Librarian and keeping them in her personal collection. Sometimes she directly opposes mortal necromancers, especially Lady Illmarrow. At other times, she seems interested in killing specific people, perhaps so she can preserve their spirits or their memories. But such direct action is extremely rare, remarkable if it occurs more than once in a century; most of the time, she remains silent in Dolurrh, unknown and unknowable.

Rarely, the bravest (and most foolish) of adventurers venture into the Queen of the Dead's realm, hoping to reclaim a lost spirit from Dolurrh. And rarely, they succeed, for she doesn't care if a shade or two are stolen every century, or even every decade. However, in the Age of Giants, the Cul'sir Dominion sent an army into Dolurrh to recover the spirits of a family lost in the Quori Conflict—none of them returned. The Queen's power cannot be contested in Dolurrh, and thieves who attract her personal attention find their shades torn from their bodies in the blink of an eye.

Layers
Dolurrh is universally gray and gloomy. The accounts of brave explorers describe the sense of being underground, and no mortal has seen the moon or sky of Dolurrh. Unlike most planes, the layers of Dolurrh don't embody different ideas; instead, they serve different functions in this grand machine dedicated to processing souls.

The four layers discussed below are the only ones described in the records of mortals who ventured to Dolurrh—and returned. But there could be more, as yet undiscovered, each likely serving a critical purpose. It's known that the Librarian has recorded the lives of dragons in the Vault of Memories; accordingly, sages theorize there may be a layer dedicated entirely to the spirits of dragonkind, which may linger longer than the spirits of simple humanoids.

The Catacombs
p158
Endless tunnels of gray stone wind through the Catacombs, the destination of humanoid spirits. Some passages are painfully tight, while others widen into grand halls with ceilings lost in darkness. The Dead are everywhere, shades pleading for release, husks keening in the shadows. The chambers of the Catacombs might contain vast wells filled with moaning mist, or nalfeshnees herding shades into pens and scraping lemures off the walls. The Catacombs may be larger than Khorvaire, or even Eberron itself. A mortal could wander forever through these winding tunnels—at least until they're consumed by ennui. However, there are junction points that transcend the logic of distance. If one knows the right symbols to follow, they can cross the vastness of the Catacombs quickly or pass to other layers—perhaps in search of a shade to rescue, as discussed in the "Concerning Resurrection" section.

The Kennel
The Kennel is similar in appearance to the Catacombs, but contains the shades and husks of beasts and monstrosities, along with the nalfeshnee and maruts that tend them. Here, you'll hear the howls of fading wolf spirits, and see flocks of spectral birds flying through grand halls, along with larger and fiercer creatures. Beast spirits rarely linger long in Dolurrh, as most have fewer memories to erase. But all dogs go to Dolurrh!

The Queen of the Dead might have created special servants that wander these halls, just as she made the shadar-kai. It's possible adventurers could be questioned by a clever raven with the soul of a poet.

The Crucible
In this grand foundry, tended by shadar-kai and guarded by newly forged maruts, the immortal spirit known as the Smith of Souls refines the essence of faded spirits into husksteel. From these lingering scraps of memory and emotion, she forges the armor and weapons of the shadar-kai, and creates the maruts from the husks of brave souls. She also creates smaller and stranger items from husksteel, as described in the "Dolurrhi Artifacts" section.

The Smith wears a mask of black steel and an apron of dragonhide. When forging maruts, she takes the form of a giant, and when crafting tiny trinkets, a gnome. It's possible that she collects the memories of mortal artisans, and can replicate their works at her forge.

The Vault of Memories
The heart of Dolurrh is the Vault of Memories. This tower, carved up through gray stone, is larger than any of the great towers of Sharn. The lowest levels hold the Vault's library; here, the spirit known as the Librarian interviews each shade and makes a record of its life. His power is such that an entire life can be confined to a single large page. Every sigil inscribed holds a crucial memory, and if a creature is proficient in Arcana, they can read the symbol to experience that memory. The many floors of the library hold countless books of preserved lives, carefully tended by shadar-kai scribes. The Librarian himself is a massive hooded figure—his books are likewise enormous. It's said that he can be many places at once, allowing him to speak to every shade, capturing the story of its life, before it fades.

In the halls above the library, the Queen of the Dead keeps her many treasures. What seem to be obsidian statues are actually shades, crystallized to prevent them from being entrapped and lost in Dolurrh. Paintings and crystals contain memories that the Queen has chosen to isolate. Beyond these are countless trinkets and oddities, items collected by her shadar-kai over the vast scope of history. And higher still are the chambers of the Queen herself, where she usually sits in silent contemplation, listening to the whispers of the countless shades in her domain.

Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Concerning Resurrection
p159
Returning life to the dead isn't a reliable service in Eberron. Many characters are capable of casting the necessary spells, from clerics to adepts of House Jorasco. But just because a spell can be cast doesn't mean that it should be cast... or that it will work if it does. The first and simplest limitation is time. The longer a spirit remains in Dolurrh, the more it falls under the sway of ennui. Any spell that returns life to the dead requires the spirit to want to return. Once the shade becomes a husk, it can no longer make that decision, and thus can't be raised or reincarnated. Most religions maintain that this happens because the true soul has moved on to a higher level of existence; who wants to be pulled back from a union with the Sovereigns? So you only have about a week or two—depending on the strength of the target's will—to pull them back. But even before that time, a spirit might choose not to return. What do they have to live for? Is it worth fighting the lulling ennui of Dolurrh?

The second limitation is risk. Even if a spell is successful, Jorasco remains rightly concerned about whether that person is supposed to come back, or if it's their time to die—for if it's the latter, a marut may appear to challenge any resurrection. This is extraordinarily rare, but in part, that's because healers perform an augury ritual beforehand and refuse to raise someone if there's a risk. Even if a marut doesn't intervene, there's a risk the resurrection could go poorly if Dolurrh is coterminous, perhaps calling back other spirits in addition to—or instead of—the person being brought back to life.

The final limitation is the direct intervention of a higher power. The Queen of the Dead might crystallize a shade and prevent it from being restored, or catch a spirit that's about to be restored and set a price on its passage; a few examples are given on the Cost of a Life table. How long does the beneficiary have to settle their account? A day, a year, a lifetime? It's also said that the Keeper can snatch souls before they even reach Dolurrh; if this myth is true, such souls can only be recovered from the Lair of the Keeper in the Demon Wastes. The Keeper itself may or may not be there, but it's certainly the abode of a powerful dracolich!

The flip side of direct intervention is that the Queen of the Dead (or another powerful entity) might offer to return a shade to life—for a price. This is a way to bring a low-level character back to life, despite their friends being unable to afford resurrection. The Cost of a Life table provides ideas.

If all else fails, there's one way you can always bring someone to life: go to Dolurrh, find their shade, and drag it back out to the Material Plane. It's simple—all you need to do is to locate a single soul in the endless Catacombs (perhaps with the help of a native guide, records in the Vault of Memories, or powerful divination magic), evade Dolurrh's many guardians, and return to Eberron with the soul in tow. If you succeed, the victim receives a new body, just as if you'd cast true resurrection; and while Dolurrh's defenders will try to stop you from leaving, they won't interfere once you return to Eberron. It's theoretically possible to restore a husk in this way as well, though the resurrected husk generally won't regain its lost memories, even though it might learn new skills. As a result, it wouldn't do any good to bring back the Tairnadal ancestors or Galifar I; you could bring a body back to life, but it's not the original person in any meaningful way. This is why the Queen of the Dead (and perhaps the Keeper) preserves certain shades from decay—so that they might one day be restored, even after thousands of years.

Planar Manifestations
Here are some ways Dolurrh can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Dolurrh rarely possess all of the plane's properties; travelers generally aren't entrapped by ennui simply by passing through one. But these zones are still close to the Realm of the Dead and exceptionally haunted, though not blighted, as Mabaran zones typically are. Shadows move in disturbing ways, and travelers may hear whispers they can't quite make out.

The restless spirits of Dolurrh yearn to return to the Material Plane, and it's easier for them to do so in manifest zones. They might manifest as ghosts, or animate the corpses of people buried in the zone, causing them to return as revenants or zombies. In some Dolurrhi zones, raising the dead can be dangerous; if spells or abilities that raise the dead are used in such a zone, roll on the Dolurrhi Resurrection Mishaps table to determine the result.

Dolurrhi zones can also have positive effects. In many zones, it's easier to return people from the dead, halving the cost of any material components. In others, anyone can cast speak with dead as a ritual that takes an hour to perform, as long as they have a personal connection to the deceased whose corpse they're questioning.

The most dramatic manifest zones are those that serve as gateways to enter the Catacombs of Dolurrh—and hopefully, to return. Opening such a gateway might call for a special ritual or significant sacrifice, perhaps under a particular alignment of the moon Aryth, or when Dolurrh is conterminous.

Coterminous and Remote
Dolurrh has a slow planar cycle. Traditionally, once a century, it becomes coterminous for a full year. Fifty years after that, it's remote for a full year. It can also have shorter phases, tied to the movements of the moon Aryth.

While Dolurrh is coterminous, it's easier for ghosts to slip from the Realm of the Dead into the Material Plane, especially around Dolurrhi manifest zones. Any spell or ability that raises the dead can also serve as a conduit for unwanted spirits; roll on the Dolurrhi Resurrection Mishaps table when any such spell is cast.

While Dolurrh is remote, traditional resurrection magic, such as revivify or reincarnate, can't pull spirits back from Dolurrh. The only way to raise the dead in these times is by traveling to Dolurrh itself and pulling the shade back to the world, as described earlier in this section. Surprisingly, ghosts are also especially common in this time—but these aren't ghosts that return from Dolurrh. Rather, if Dolurrh is remote when someone dies in the grip of great emotion or with vital unfinished business, their spirit can more easily resist Dolurrh's pull, remaining on the Material Plane.

Dolurrhi Artifacts
p160
The most common Dolurrhi artifacts are creations of the Smith of Shadows, formed of husksteel, the fused essence of faded souls. Despite the name, husksteel can appear not only as dark metal, but also as slick black leather, dark iridescent cloth, or other substances. Such an object could be crafted from a single spirit—a dagger whose edge is forged from a single moment of pain—or from the emotional residue of multiple husks.

In creating a husksteel object, consider the memory or emotion that's the heart of the item. For a magic item, this should reflect its purpose. A husksteel cloak of elvenkind could be formed from a secret. A husksteel variation on a dagger of venom might be formed from a moment of absolute terror; when its power is invoked, it could deal psychic damage and, on a failed Wisdom save, make the target frightened of the wielder.

Other Dolurrhi items are largely curiosities. The Dolurrhi Trinkets table provides examples.

Dolurrhi Stories
Dolurrh can inspire many simple stories through its manifest zones and escaped ghosts. A husksteel trinket could provide a flash of memory that sets the adventurers on a particular path, and finding a way to rescue a shade from the underworld is always an epic tale. Here are a few deeper stories to consider.

The Once and Future Queen of the Dead. The Queen of the Dead is an enigmatic figure who wields great power in Dolurrh. But there's another being who uses this title: Erandis Vol, the last heir of the Mark of Death. Through her agents in the Order of the Emerald Claw and beyond, Erandis seeks to restore the power of her dragonmark; no one knows what godlike powers she might wield if she unlocks its full potential. Meanwhile, Dolurrh's Queen of the Dead seems to oppose Erandis, and often sends her agents—both shadar-kai and adventurers she's restored to life at a price—to interfere with Vol's schemes. This could be exactly what it appears; the Queen of the Dead may despise necromancers, and Vol is seeking to depose her. But perhaps there's more to it. Time works in strange ways when dealing with the planes and beings of vast power. Perhaps the Queen of the Dead isn't trying to stop Erandis, but guiding her down a very specific path. Perhaps Erandis will become the Queen of the Dead, in which case, she'll have always been her. Or perhaps that's what's supposed to happen, but there's a way in which it could still go wrong... which could destroy the Queen of the Dead and throw Dolurrh itself into chaos.
Agent of Death. The adventurers kill a nefarious villain that's long eluded them—but soon, their foe reappears alive and well. This happens time and again. How is the villain escaping from Dolurrh? Are they acting as an agent for the Queen of the Dead, or have they simply found a back door to the Realm of the Dead? Either way, what can the adventurers do to lay them to rest once and for all?
Devastating Sorrow. When Dolurrh becomes coterminous, a powerful sorrowsworn emerges and devastates the region. The adventurers may not have the ability to defeat the sorrowsworn in battle, but if they understand the circumstances of its creation—the emotion that drives it and the event that triggered it—they might be able to disperse the deadly monster by defusing this emotion. When an adventurer touches—or is touched by—one of Dolurrh's Dead or Lingering, they might sense a flash of any lingering memory or emotion that creature possesses. Can this help them solve the mystery, or will they die in the attempt?
The Warforged Soul. There are many who believe that warforged are simply tools; House Cannith may be able to infuse something with life, but it can't create a soul. Others say that it's not a question of science; the warforged are clearly alive, and thus, they have souls. But is the soul unique? Or could it be that warforged recycle souls, drawing husks drained of memory from Dolurrh and using them as a foundation? These questions are intentionally left unanswered; it's up to each DM to determine the true nature of warforged souls. But there's one simple fact: a warforged can be restored to life with revivify or raise dead. Which means that the answer must lie in Dolurrh, and someone—Arcanix? Merrix d'Cannith? The Lord of Blades?—could fund an expedition to find the answer.
Fernia: The Sea of Flame
p161
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
A massive shard of basalt rises out of a vast ocean of magma. A castle sprawls atop the peak, a glittered fortress sculpted from brass. Firefalls of lava tumble down the edge of the spire. A flight of red dragons takes to the air, circling the castle and creating a dazzling spectacle of synchronized flames. Welcome to High Hearth: the party's about to begin.

It's simple to say that Fernia embodies the concept of fire. The plane is filled with magma and flame, from massive volcanoes to cities eternally on the verge of being consumed by fire. But Fernia isn't about mundane fire; Lamannia is the source of simple, natural flame, and holds volcanoes and fire elementals. Rather, Fernia is about all the things we see in the flame, all the ideas it represents. It has layers reflecting wild destruction, where verdant forests eternally burn. It incorporates industry, with legions of azers forever toiling over fire and forge. And it reflects wild passion, burning emotions that can't be held in, and glorious spectacle; these are the realm of the efreet, the lords of the Sea of Flame, forever striving to outshine their rivals.

Fire draws the eye and the attention, but where there's magma, there's also earth. The azers stand between earth and flame, harvesting the ore they feed to their hungry forges. And in the deep caverns, the dao polish jewels and admire their treasures. Even in these deep layers, the air sears the lungs of creatures that lack the proper protection, but for adventurers willing to brave the flames, wonders and wealth are waiting in the halls of fire and stone.

Universal Properties
The sweltering heat of Fernia can be deadly to unprotected creatures, and it burns through mortal metabolisms. The following properties apply to the entire plane.

Deadly Heat. All regions of Fernia are subject to extreme heat (as defined in chapter 5 of the Dungeon Master's Guide). In some areas of particularly deadly heat, a creature without protection must make a Constitution saving throw every minute instead of every hour. In addition, all creatures gain resistance to cold damage, and a creature that is usually resistant to cold damage becomes immune to it.
Empowered Fire. When a creature casts a spell of 1st level or higher, if it deals fire damage, it does so as if cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended.
Fires of Industry. A creature has advantage on ability checks using tools (such as baking with cook's utensils, or forging an item with smith's tools) when it incorporates Fernian flame into its action in place of mundane flame.
Burning Bright. Whenever a creature makes a death saving throw, it must make an additional saving throw, keeping the results of both rolls. In addition, when a creature gains a level of exhaustion, it gains an extra level; when it reduces a level of exhaustion, it reduces it by an additional level. In Fernia, whether you live or die, it's going to happen quickly!
Standard Time. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.
Denizens
Fernia is home to celestials and fiends, spirits that embody key concepts of fire and flame. But its primary denizens are elementals of earth and fire. There are no native mortals or manifestations in Fernia: the elemental population is set in stone, and when one elemental dies, a new one takes its place. This can take many forms; new mephits spring out of open flame, while the dao craft new azers out of bronze. But overall, the population is stable; when an efreeti pits two legions of salamanders against one another in a grand display, they know the salamanders will eventually be reborn.

Efreet
The efreet are the brightest stars in the firmament of Fernia. They are aristocrats, dwelling in sprawling mansions and castles, attended by countless servants, dwelling amidst astonishing opulence. Fire consumes, and the efreet are masters of conspicuous consumption. They are passionate and wild, quick to both anger and joy. They are casually cruel, and can consume or destroy the lives of others even as they celebrate. However, the efreet aren't conquerors, for they already have everything they could possibly want; their elemental servants exist to serve them, and the efreet consider them to be casually disposable.

The efreet have been competing with one another since the dawn of time. Passionate arguments can escalate into dramatic duels, and now and again, two efreet unleash their armies in a grand display of fire and burning blood. But by and large, the conflict between the efreet is social, as each strives to outshine their rivals. Efreet society is bound by an elaborate social calendar. At any moment in Fernia, one of the efreet is hosting a grand celebration. Sometimes there's a theme or explanation for the gala—the unveiling of a new work of art, the epic burning of an old piece of art, or the thousandth anniversary of an efreeti's last rebirth. Other times, the party needs no explanation.

If an efreeti isn't hosting a gala, it's planning its next one—and always, always searching for ways to outshine every celebration that's come before. Often this is about working with the resources within the plane, pushing azers and dao to create new wonders. But efreet have vast wealth and the ability to travel the planes, and this can bring them to the Material Plane. If a celebration sports a flight of red dragons performing synchronized pyrotechnics, remember this—dragons aren't native to Fernia, and the plane doesn't have manifestations of creatures; thus, the efreeti hired those dragons from another plane. Imagine what it would take to convince dragons of Argonnessen to perform as entertainment! Efreet rarely have any reason to deal with adventurers, but if the characters do have something to offer—or if they're interesting enough simply to be invited to a party as curiosities—an efreeti can make it worth their time. An efreeti could also serve as the patron of a warlock—perhaps using the Fiend pact—giving the mortal power, but demanding that they always search for things that could give the efreeti an edge over their rivals in their endless social battles.

While efreet have much to offer, any association with an efreeti is dangerous. They abide by the letter of any contracts they make, but adventurers would be wise to make sure a contract includes safety clauses. After all, efreet are spirits of fire, and they burn things they touch. They care about nothing save their own status and amusement, and destroy lives without a thought.

There are a host of noble efreet in Fernia. Here are a few of the most prominent, including their public names they use with mortals—their Ignan names are far longer.

Sultan Azhalar of High Hearth tands at the top of the social order. He has assembled the grandest armies and enjoys displays of martial might, including exotic engines of war. His galas often involve gladiatorial matches or grand war games.

Pasha Shashraqa of Firefall stands just below Ashalar in the social order and is determined to unseat her rival. She is cultivating the friendship of several dragons. She considers herself to be a connoisseur of art, and could take an interest in the work of an artistic adventurer.

Pasha Raqashtar of Gold Ash is the most cosmopolitan of the efreet. He has many friends in the Immeasurable Market of Syrania, and enjoys betting on the outcome of battles in Shavarath. His appetite for gambling could draw the adventurers into his orbit, as he might make a wager with another immortal about the outcome of a particular adventure—then seek to put a burning finger on the scales.

Dao
p162
Where do the many treasures of efreet come from? Who built their glorious city of brass? The dao are the answer to both of these questions. Azer laborers keep the foundries burning, but it's the dao who pluck wondrous jewels and pure adamantine from the primal earth, and it's they who craft the grandest and most remarkable wonders. Each dao has a particular specialty, a unique style of art or artifice. While they can craft artifacts that would be the envy of any mortal artificer, their techniques can't be easily replicated. Their work has an element of arcane science, but much of what they do involves channeling the essence of Fernia itself; a dao who settles in the Material Plane will find its talents more limited.

The dao are more stoic than the fiery efreet, and don't throw extravagant parties. But they still engage in intense social competition with one another, striving to craft the most glorious creations. This doesn't necessarily mean their work is the most powerful; rather, it's about creating things that are most desired. The dao don't need gold, so the efreet usually pay them in barter, which creates a bizarre secondary market. The efreeti Raqashtar might offer a squad of elite salamander warriors in exchange for a wondrous crown; the dao has no use for them, but it knows that the efreeti Azhalar is collecting soldiers, so...

Adventurers may seek out dao because of what they can do, but dao can also be interesting patrons. A dao may need some rare substance to complete its latest work, but it can only be obtained on the Material Plane—so it turns to adventurers to obtain it. Or a dao could even use a group of mortals as a focus group, seeking opinions on its latest work.

Here are a few notable dao:

Naja Ash sculpts fire, producing masterful artifacts and tools that channel or produce flame. She creates the majority of the azer, and she can create other elemental creatures, constructs, or unique blends between the two concepts. She's the foremost expert on elemental binding in the multiverse, though it would take a great deal to convince her to share her knowledge with mortals.

Sar Saeran creates tools of war, from personal armor and weapons to grand siege engines. The efreeti Azhalar is his best client, but all of the efreet value his peerless work. He has spent eons trying to create the perfect sword, and often seeks out legendary blades on the Material Plane—sometimes to keep, sometimes to study for a few minutes, and sometimes to destroy.

Brass is the finest architect of the dao, and is responsible for most of the grand palaces of the efreet. She's always intrigued by unusual architecture and has visited Sharn a few times to study the towers. She's also celebrated for her sculptures, and has produced everything from tiny miniatures to towering colossuses, along with magical marvels that begin as the former, then transform into something far larger, like figurines of wondrous power.

Lesser Elementals
Fernia is home to raw fire and earth elementals (though these can also be found in Lamannia), abstract spirits that want nothing more than to burn or surge. These primordial creatures are largely ignored by the efreet and dao, and they're driven by pure instinct. Elementals are Fernia's most common inhabitants; an efreeti wouldn't be a lord without subjects to lord over, and these lesser elementals serve that role. While humanoid in form, they're deeply alien, immortal spirits shaped by their element and driven by singular purpose. An azer lives for the forge, and a mephit delights in mischief. Most lesser elementals are content as long as they have the opportunity to pursue their purpose, but occasionally a lesser elemental unexpectedly develops a quirk that drives it to pursue a new purpose.

The population of these elementals is limited, and thus their service is valuable to the efreet and dao. The efreet and dao often barter the service of their elemental subjects, sending them to allied or rival courts. Typically this doesn't matter to the elementals, but there have been a few cases of salamanders rebelling against a new lord or mephits playing tricks on their new comrades.

Azers, mephits, and salamanders are the most common elementals, though others might be encountered somewhere in this plane.

Azers. The dao craft azers from bronze and bring them to life using the primordial spark of Fernia. They are tireless laborers who love working with fire and metals. Dao may create the greatest wonders, but the azers do remarkable work—and far more of it. Azer are naturally gifted artisans, and can be assigned to any sort of task that involves fire. However, there are few things more miserable than an azer baking bread instead of working with brass.
Mephits. When encountered in the wilds, mephits are capricious tricksters and their "pranks" can make life miserable for planar travelers. However, those found in the service of the efreet are generally more polite and well mannered—though this can quickly change if there's an opportunity for mischief too good to pass up.
Salamanders. The primary servants of the efreet, salamanders can be found serving as soldiers or performing domestic tasks. For every salamander officer carrying an ornate spear, there's a salamander butler carrying a brass tray. Salamanders are extremely proud, and within their ranks there is great competition over rank and position. Most are dismissive of mortals, but they can be jealous of adventurers who receive too much attention or favor.
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Fiends and Celestials
p163
The fiends and celestials of Fernia embody specific aspects of the concept of fire. Fire is an integral part of their appearance; they may have burning eyes, orange-red skin, or wings and halos formed of flame.

Angels. represent the comfort fire offers: its life-giving warmth, the light that holds back the shadows. The angels of Fernia are typically devas or other lesser angels, and they generally seek to assist and comfort travelers when they can.
Demons. reflect the terrifying destructive power of fire, the wildfire that can't be contained and the spark that brings down a mansion. They are wild and violent, and it's rarely a good thing when adventurers cross paths with them. Demons yearn to burn all wondrous things. Sometimes this leads them to target the grand mansion of an efreeti, but during coterminous periods, they can also influence untended flames in the Material Plane, or occasionally manipulate mortals into carelessness with fire. Common demons include quasits (malevolent counterparts to the elemental mephits), vrocks with burning wings, and terrifying balors.
Devils. represent the intentional use of fire as a weapon or to inspire fear—the burning iron used in torture, the screams of those dying on burning battlefields. Devils are rare and exceptionally cruel. They thrive both on causing pain and suffering in Fernia, and cajoling mortals into acts of arson or fiery torture in the Material Plane. Like demons, they can usually only influence mortals when the planes are coterminous, but occasionally a Fernian devil manages to slip through fire into Eberron. Imps, barbed devils, and pit fiends can all be found in Fernia.
Layers
Fernia is dominated by the vast layer known as the Sea of Flame. Where the sky can be seen, it's almost always obscured by ash and smoke. Its smaller layers embody specific concepts, such as infernos and campfires. These can usually be reached through burning circles on the islands in the Sea of Fire, or via tunnels in the Deep Halls.

The Sea of Fire
This is a seemingly endless ocean of magma, larger than any single sea in Eberron. Ultimately, the Sea of Fire wraps around on itself; head north from High Hearth and you'll eventually find it again, but it may take a month of travel. There are islands in the sea, spires and mesas of basalt and obsidian—some are inhabited, but many are barren and empty.

Salamanders sail the blazing sea in ships forged from blackened steel, and azers fly over it in balloons woven from brass. Many of the islands hold teleportation circles traced in continual flame, with a word inscribed in Ignan indicating the destination. Any spellcaster with proficiency in Arcana can expend a spell slot of 3rd level or higher to activate a portal—though unless they speak Ignan, they won't know where it leads. Here are a few noteworthy destinations.

The City of Brass. The sole metropolis in Fernia, the City of Brass is the glorious city of the efreet, a place of marvels. Here, a towering statue of an efreeti holds a sphere of continual flame the size of an airship. The statue reshapes itself to match the appearance of the efreeti who currently dominates society; both the statue and whichever efreeti it depicts are known as the Sultan. Currently, the Sultan is Azhalar of High Hearth.
All efreet have mansions in the City of Brass, though at any given time, many dwell within their island estates. Likewise, there are always a few dao in residence showing off their latest creations and taking new commissions. The streets are filled with mephits and salamanders. Visiting mortals are a curiosity, but most elements are too busy to take much time on them. The City of Brass is ringed with teleporation circles, linking it to all of the estates and major foundries.

Efreeti Estates. Each of the noble efreet have a sprawling palace or mansion on an island in the Sea of Fire. While not so grand as the City of Brass, these estates are studies in opulence, filled with dao-crafted wonders and sculptures of metal and flame.
Foundries. Foundry islands are models of industry. Some are focused primarily on physical engineering, with vast gears and wheels slowly turning, and chains rising and falling. Others reflect arcane industry, with blazing glyphs and fields of shimmering energy. Here the azers work at all hours, producing both mundane, martial, and magical goods for the efreet and their servants.
Deep Halls. Under the foundries, tunnels extend down below the Sea of Fire into the earth below. These are the domains of the dao. Like the foundries above them, each has a distinct style tied to the sensibilities of the dao who dwells there. Streams of lava and pools of fire run through the halls, along with veins of metal and minerals. While not as luxurious as the estates of the efreeti, these often showcase the wondrous creations of the dao in residence; adventurers could find a hall whose walls are decorated with a thousand swords, or a brass garden filled with cunning construct songbirds. But some dao are paranoid, and deep halls can also contain a host of powerful and deadly traps.
Infernos
p164
Infernos are isolated layers that showcase a particular act of destruction by fire. One inferno is a burning city, where devils direct bombardment and demons dance about, spreading the flames within. In another layer, a lone balor oversees the devastation of an ancient forest. These fires never end; parts of the layer are rebuilt even as others are consumed, and the inferno continues forever.

Campfires
These small layers reflect the comfort fire can offer. A campfire layer can be a literal campfire, a lonely light out in the darkest wilderness. Another campfire layer is an inn called the First Hearth, where the angelic barkeep Ashe offers warm drinks around the fireplace from which the inn takes its name. Campfire layers are safe havens, and a perfect place for travelers to rest.

Planar Manifestations
Here are a few of the ways Fernia can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Fernia often share one or more of the plane's universal properties. Those with Deadly Heat often have unusual volcanic or tectonic activity, and are generally shunned. However, House Cannith is always searching for Fernian zones with the Fires of Industry property; in addition to providing advantage on tool checks, these zones often allow artificers to craft enchantments that can't be replicated elsewhere (especially those tied to evocation and flame). A Fernian manifest zone can provide an unexpected haven in an arctic environment, or provide unusual geothermal benefits. In Karrnath, the town of Ember—on the edge of the Icetop Mountains—is renowned for its pleasant climate and thermal pools.

Coterminous and Remote
While Fernia is coterminous, temperatures rise sharply, and warmer regions that would normally be safe can become extremely hot, taking on the Deadly Heat, Empowered Fire, and Burning Bright properties of the plane. During these times, on rare occasions, creatures caught in an area of exceptionally intense flame can find themselves pulled through to Fernia itself.

When Fernia is remote, intense heat loses some of its bite. Creatures have advantage on saving throws made to resist the effects of extreme heat, as well as on saving throws against spells that deal fire damage.

Traditionally, Fernia is coterminous once every five years during the month of Lharvion, and it's remote once every five years during the month of Zarantyr (exactly two and a half years after it's coterminous).

Fernian Artifacts
The dao and the foundries of Fernia produce a vast array of wonders. Many of their creations are effectively trinkets, such as a gold model of a dragon that breathes actual fire. Others are far grander, such as figurines of wondrous power. While many Fernian artifacts relate to fire in some way—wands of fireball, flame tongue swords—they aren't limited to fire or evocation. Fernian items are often made from brass, obsidian, or basalt, but the dao work with all metals.

Two additional resources from Fernia are cold fire and Fernian ashes. Cold fire is a form of continual flame that occurs naturally in Fernia; the flames have the texture of warm putty. Fernian ashes are created from the wood of rare trees found only in the Sea of Fire. Fernian ashes are a potent component of magic items tied to the evocation school. In addition, if a spellcaster discards a pinch of Fernian ashes while casting a spell of 1st level or higher that deals fire damage, their spell deals fire damage as if it were cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended. Both Fernian ashes and cold fire can occasionally be harvested from Fernian manifest zones, though not all trees will produce Fernian ashes.

Fernian Stories
Fernia is difficult to reach and dangerous to visit, but here are a few ideas that might spark adventures related to that plane.

The Life of the Party. The Pasha Shashraqa of Firefall is determined to unseat the Sultan Azhalar with her next gala. And what's in fashion at the moment? Adventurers. The Pasha whisks the adventurers to Fernia, promising to reward them well if they make the gala a success—and to throw them into the Sea of Fire should they fail her. Can the characters shine at a party of efreet and dao? Do they know which fork to use, especially when one of them is on fire? What happens when Azhalar's salamander general challenges a party member to a duel?
The Infernal Machine. The adventurers stumble across an Emerald Claw camp. These Seekers are working with the dao Sar Saraen, who's building them a devastating explosive device capable of leveling a city. Can the adventurers find out why Saraean is working with the Emerald Claw? If the dao is being compelled, can they free him? If it's part of a negotiation, can they make a better offer? And what will they do if they end up with the completed bomb?
The Back Door. The adventurers find a curious brass key. When inserted into a door, it transforms that door into a portal to the First Hearth, an inn in Fernia. Who does the key belong to? How often can its power be used? The barkeep Ashe is always happy to see a few new faces, but who else will the adventurers meet at the bar?
Irian: The Eternal Dawn
p165
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
In Irian, birds sing in a fertile valley, while a group of settlers work together to raise their first home. Moving further in, you find the gleaming capital of a new empire, where cheering throngs celebrate in the streets. There are dozens of layers in Irian, and each one is a vision of life triumphant. Irian is the dawn that inevitably banishes even the darkest night, the promise of spring triumphing over the coldest winter. It's the bastion of hope, the promise that life always find a way.

In his Planar Codex, Dorius Alyre ir'Korran calls Irian the Plane of Light, and indeed, its light is so prevalent that there's no full darkness within Irian. But it's also the plane of life, the source of positive energy, the force that sustains life and underlies most healing magic.

Universal Properties
The light of the Eternal Dawn strengthens the living. Darkness and disease have no place here, and minor injuries melt away. Irian has the following universal properties.

Radiant Power. When a creature casts a spell of 1st level or higher that restores hit points or deals radiant damage, it's treated as if it were cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended.
Necrotic Void. In order to cast a spell that deals necrotic damage, a creature must succeed on a spellcasting ability check with a DC equal to 10 + the level of the spell. On a failed check, the spell is not cast and its spell slot is not expended, but the action is lost.
Pure Light. There is no darkness in Irian. Any spell, effect, or other situation that would usually create darkness only reduces the lighting to dim light.
Life Triumphant. Undead creatures have disadvantage on attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. This has no effect on undead creatures that are sustained by Irian, such as the deathless elves of Aerenal.
The Light of Life. The light of Irian restores vitality, granting the following benefits to all living creatures. These have no effect on undead or constructs; however, undead creatures that are sustained by Irian, such as the deathless elves of Aerenal, benefit from these effects as if they were living creatures.
On initiative count 20 (losing initiative ties), a living creature with at least 1 hit point regains 3 (1d6) hit points.
A living creature with 0 hit points becomes stable at the end of its turn.
A living creature has resistance to poison damage.
A living creature has advantage on saving throws against poison, disease, and fear.
Standard Time. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.
Planar Rebirth
Most of the planes are fixed in their form; for example, every mortal brings new dreams to Dal Quor, but the plane's structure doesn't change. Mabar is an exception: the Endless Night steals and corrupts fragments of other planes, adding them to its layers. Left unchecked, Mabar would consume reality. But as the Endless Night consumes, the Eternal Dawn creates. Whenever Mabar tears a fragment from another plane, a new planar seed appears in Irian. Initially, this is a small layer, populated by embers and lumi, that has Irian's planar properties. Over time, the layer grows and evolves, and the environment and its inhabitants take on the appearance of the void it's to fill. Little by little, it loses the properties of Irian and adopts the properties of its destination plane; when it finally loses the Light of Life property, its ties to Irian are severed and it fully becomes part of the other plane, replacing the region lost to Mabar.

The planar seed is rarely a perfect match for the fragment that was lost. The embers take the form of local life, but especially for fragments torn from the Material Plane, a planar seed doesn't replace sentient creatures or buildings; it simply restores land and wildlife. If the Mourning had been the work of Mabar—which is unlikely for many reasons, but not impossible—Irian wouldn't restore the people killed in the Mourning or the destroyed structures, but it would restore life to the land and make it a welcoming environment.

In most planes, immortals can't reproduce, but they're reborn if they die, and their numbers remain constant. Irian breaks that rule, because it creates new immortals to replace those corrupted by Mabar. These begin as lumi and angels, but as the seed loses its properties, these immortals evolve into the denizens of that plane, drawing their personalities from the template for the new immortals. Irian makes no judgment about the spaces it fills, and it may create a squad of bloodthirsty demons when it replaces a lost fragment of Shavarath. These seed immortals can't leave their layer until it's fully bound to their final plane, so they can't wreak havoc in Irian, but it would be quite a surprise for nosy adventurers that stumble into that layer!

The creation of seeds is an important drive for the inhabitants of Irian. Immortals monitor and guide the formation of the seeds, while lumi tend the embers and prepare to become inhabitants of the new plane. Irian immortals rarely interfere in other planes, because what they're already doing is the most important task they could perform.

Denizens
Most inhabitants of Irian fall into one of the following categories.

Embers
Irian is bursting with life. Songbirds, rabbits, and other creatures roam the Garden. The streets of the Amaranthine City are filled with happy people. But the Garden never has too many rabbits, and there's no risk of the citizens of the Amaranthine City starving—or needing to go on strike to prevent it. Sometimes, if you glimpse one out of the corner of your eye, you might see them differently, as an outline of pale white light—a glowing shadow.

These are manifestations, not living creatures. Called embers, each one is linked to a spark—a tiny echo of a soul, each one tied to a living creature. Through this connection, mortals draw inspiration and hope, and remain linked to the positive energy that flows to and from all living things. An ember resembles the mortal whose spark fuels it, but it isn't fully conscious and doesn't have any complete memories, merely echoes of that mortal's brightest joys, deepest hopes, and greatest deeds. There are many more sparks in Irian than there are embers at any given moment; Irian simply dips into the pool of sparks, manifesting as many embers as the scene calls for, shaping the light of each soul into something that looks like them.

Embers don't need to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep. They follow basic scripts, but can't improvise and don't have much knowledge beyond what they need for their role. As a rule, embers are happy, for they don't know any other way to be. An ember can't be truly killed; its body dissolves, but the spark that fueled it remains safely within Irian's deep well of light.

While adventuring in Irian, you might see an ember that resembles you—but it won't recognize you, and might not even appear the same age. This ember is merely your light-shadow, manifested by Irian and channeling your life force. It holds the essence of your best moments and emotions, the light within you that drives you to goodness—but merely as a spark, not the fire of a living creature.

Lumi
p166
When a mortal dies and their soul goes to Dolurrh, the thread connecting them to Irian is severed. Any ember fueled by their spark dissolves and the spark—the essence of the hopes and brightest moments of the mortal's life—begins to fade. But the sparks of the dead can merge together before they're lost completely, creating a new, unique entity—a lumi, formed from the same positive energy as the embers, but possessing true consciousness and life. Unlike the embers, who aren't fully conscious or aware of the memories they hold, lumi are sentient creatures, each with a unique identity, though their sparks give them fragments of many mortal lives. So adventurers may meet a lumi who recognizes them, and who has a few memories and traits of a fallen friend.

Lumi appear to be formed from solidified light, and generally take a body shape similar to the strongest of the sparks that formed them—usually those of sentient creatures. Their most distinctive feature is their head—a sphere of light suspended a few inches above their torso. Normally this is pure light, but with conscious effort, a lumi can sculpt and maintain a face. Their statistics can be represented by the priest in the Monster Manual (or an exceptionally powerful one might use the statistics of the war priest in Volo's Guide to Monsters), but they don't need to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep, they don't age, and they're immune to poison and disease. When a lumi reaches 0 hit points, its body dissolves and its sparks fade. If an angel of Irian is nearby, it can consume these sparks; this won't save the lumi, but at least those memories are preserved. While most lumi are humanoids, there may be lumi formed from the sparks of other creatures, like giants or dragons, that dwell in layers of their own kind.

Lumi serve as the caretakers of the embers, and believe that by helping the embers play their roles, they're strengthening the light in the mortals the embers are connected to. Lumi help develop and maintain the planar seeds, and some even surrender their identity in order to become new creatures within that seed; they believe that in doing this, they're sowing the new layer with light. On rare occasions, lumi travel to other planes in service of the Architects. They are brave and compassionate, seeking always to spread hope, and ever prepared to lay down their lives for the greater good. Lumi can defend themselves, but they prefer to inspire others when possible, rather than resort to violence.

Celestials
Irian's immortals are spirits of light and hope. Irian is noteworthy for being the home of the ki-rin. These majestic creatures often act as emissaries for the Architects. Each planar seed has a ki-rin assigned to monitor it, help the lumi, and ease transition.

Irian is also home to angels. Not as violent as the angels of Shavarath or as individualistic as the angels of Syrania, the angels of Irian embody the general principles of hope and compassion. Irian devas assist the lumi and help sustain the different layers; they are the knights and scholars of the Amaranthine City. Devas often change their form to play multiple roles within a layer, and adventurers may think that they've encountered multiple people, when in fact it's a single deva. Meanwhile, planetars act as champions and ministers, and each of the Architects has a single solar that serves as its right hand.

The angels of Irian have wings formed of light, which they can conceal if they wish. In their true form, they're luminescent humanoids of indeterminate species, but can choose to appear to mortals as a generic member of the viewer's species. Devas also possesses the ability to change into specific forms at will.

The Architects
The Architects are the most powerful spirits of Irian. Each embodies an aspect of the plane, and oversees a region within it, as discussed in the "Layers" section. They're unique celestials with great wisdom and power, but most of their time and energy is devoted to the planar seeds—guiding the growth of the seed, smoothing over problems, and adding a few personal touches. Planar seeds emerge within an Architect's realm, expanding until they break off and join their new planes.

The power of the Architects is largely bound to their realms. They can't directly intervene in the Material Plane, though they can work with warlocks (as Celestial patrons) or send lumi. Often this involves the reintegration of a planar seed, or examining regions where Mabar has removed a fragment.

Layers
It's always morning in Irian; the skies are clear, the sun is fixed in the sky, and the moon Barrakas is faintly visible. The plane contains many layers, and it's always growing new ones. While the setting of a layer varies—a verdant valley, a growing city, a newly established farm—the story is always about life, growth, and hope. Things are growing, people are prosperous, and the future is bright. While there are many natural environments in Irian, it's this optimism that differentiates them from those of Lamannia. Irian is a celebration of life; Lamannia focuses on the untamable primordial power of nature, and often feels more threatening and wild.

The layers are linked in realms, each of which is bound to one of the Architects. The denizens and themes of a layer reflect the influence of that Architect, so all of the layers of the Garden have a focus on rustic nature, while those tied to the Amaranthine City reflect its rising imperial power. Some layers are bounded by physical barriers, but most either loop back on themselves or end in walls of warm mist—anyone who wanders into the fog reemerges elsewhere in the layer. Within realms, layers are often connected by physical portals like a massive gate or a pool of light. Moving between realms requires plane shift or a ritual tied to that realm. These rituals may not be magical; they are simply secrets that have to be learned. If you're in the Amaranthine City and you want to travel to the Garden, all you have to do is plant a flower and reflect on its beauty; those thoughts will carry you there.

Planar seeds sprout from realms. Early on, they're small layers with indistinct themes, but expand and gradually take on the nature and properties of the plane they're to become. Thus, you could stumble into a layer that replicates a piece of Dolurrh's Catacombs or represents conflict in Shavarath. However, these layers aren't fully developed—once they are, they move onto their destination plane—so Irian's seed of the Catacombs of Dolurrh won't have the entrapping effect of Dolurrh itself.

Here are three examples of realms, but there are many more.

The Amaranthine City: Growth
p167
This immense metropolis fills an entire layer. The Amaranthine City is the capital of an empire in its first bloom of glory. Gilded banners catch the wind. Armored angels and pegasi patrols pass overhead. People laugh in the streets, healthy and happy. Artisans create a mosaic depicting glorious victories. While this is an empire, the message isn't about oppression, but one of potential. This is an empire where all the citizens are prosperous and all have equal opportunities. People are proud, the city is full of wonders, and the future is bright.

The Amaranthine City is widely seen as the heart of Irian. Its Dawn Empress is the first and greatest of the Architects. Her defining principle is growth, the opportunity to reach your full potential, and all layers of her realm reflect this. Her empire isn't driven by conquest, but rather by exploration—discovering new lands and opportunities, just as mortals can always find new talents within and opportunities beyond. The Dawn Empress is a celestial figure wreathed in light, though she can assume the shape of any humanoid or angel. She presides over festivals and tends the needs of her people, but she spends much of her time focused on the cultivation of her planar seeds. She occasionally works with mortals, typically warlocks; while she may have missions tied to planar seeds or to clashing with agents of Mabar, she also gives her agents tasks that are designed to help them with their own growth and evolution.

Layers tied to the Amaranthine City reflect its theme of expansion and discovery. These layers may hold outposts in otherwise-uninhabited lands filled with wonders of nature, or they might hold prosperous farms and estates, inhabited by embers, with lumi and devas helping to drive the theme.

The Garden: Life
The Garden lives up to its name; it's a vast zoological garden filled with foliage. It contains every plant that can be found in the Material Plane, along with many that can't. There are winding paths, peaceful pools, wondrous topiaries, and complicated hedge mazes. In contrast to the wilds of Lamannia, this is very carefully cultivated. The Garden is suffused with a sense of peace, beauty, and the wondrous things life can create.

The Garden is the realm of the Gardener, an Architect whose principle is life. He's a blend of angel and plant—more humanoid than treant, but with skin of bark, a beard of leaves, and a crown of flowers. Like all of the Architects, he's devoted to his planar seeds, but he also spends time wandering the garden, both tending it and appreciating its wonders. He apprecates those who nurture and heal others, and this is the behavior he expects of any mortals he associates with.

The many layers of the Garden realm showcase various elements of fertility and the triumph of life. There are a few layers that are slightly darker than the rest of Irian, though still suffused with dim light in their darkest corners—these reflect the principle that life overcomes hardship. The message of the ruined castle isn't to dwell on the destruction, but to see the flowers blooming on the walls. Most of the embers in the region take animal form, and ki-rin are the most comon celestials.

The Refuge: Hope
The Refuge is a vast fortress-monastery, though it has aspects of a spa as well. It's filled with tranquil groves, soothing baths, and places to rest and reflect. The fortress walls don't represent potential conflict, but rather speak to the absolute security of the place—within its walls, you are safe from all threats. The Refuge holds healers who can treat your injuries, mediators who can talk through problems, and sages who may not know the answers you need, but can point you in the right direction. This isn't a place where adventures occur; it's where you recover from your injuries and plan your next move, knowing that you're safe and that there are answers to every problem.

Araam is the Architect of the Refuge and embodies the concept of hope. She's a wise advisor, and while she may not always have answers, she helps people look at their problems in new ways and see that all problems can be solved. She's the finest healer in Irian, and there are few injuries she cannot heal or curses she cannot break. There's no monetary cost for the services of the Refuge, but Araam charges thoes who benefit to give hope to someone who needs it; they won't be allowed to return to the Refuge until that debt is paid. While Araam isn't a god, a Life cleric could say that their class features come from training in the Refute and are tied to the power of Irian.

While not all layers of Araam's realm provide the security and succor of the Refuge itself, they all can provide comfort and hope. They don't have the absolute peace of Syrania, but they make people feel there's hope. Irian has no match for the Immeasurable Market of Syrania, so if you're looking for commerce, the Azure Sky has more options. But for adventurers who seek a relaxing vacation in the planes, the Refuge is unparalleled.

Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Planar Manifestations
p168
Here are a few of the ways Irian can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Irian are wellsprings of positive energy. Plants and animals thrive in these zones, while people are less likely to dwell on negative emotions and find it easier to embrace hope and joy. Irian zones often have one or more of the plane's universal properties. Irian zones with the Radiant Power property support spells of healing and may enable rituals or support eldritch machines that can't be built anywhere else. In particular, the City of the Dead in Aerenal is built on a strong Irian manifest zone, which sustains the deathless councilors.

Irian zones rarely extend the full swift healing effect of Irian's Light of Life property. However, all of the following benefits are common when in an Irian zone:

You have advantage on Wisdom (Medicine) checks.
Whenever you spend Hit Dice to regain hit points, use the highest number possible for each die.
You have advantage on saving throws against disease, poison, and fear.
For all these reasons, Irian manifest zones are a valuable natural resource, and often become the foundations of villages, towns, or Jorasco healing houses. Irian manifest zones rarely serve as gateways to the plane, and traveling to Irian usually requires plane shift or similar magic.

Coterminous and Remote
Life blossoms when Irian is coterminous. Health and fertility are enhanced, positive energy flows freely, and living creatures are infused with an abundant sense of hope. While Irian is coterminous, the Radiant Power property applies across Eberron and all creatures have advantage on saving throws against disease, poison, and fear.

When Irian is remote, colors seem to fade and a sense of psychic numbness pervades the world. All creatures have disadvantage on saving throws against fear and resistance to radiant damage. In addition, any effect that restores hit points—including spells and spending Hit Dice—only restores half the usual amount. However, creatures still regain full hit points after completing a long rest.

Traditionally, Irian is coterminous for ten days in the month of Eyre and remote for ten days in the month of Sypheros. These effects occur once every three years; the remote cycle comes a year and a half after it is coterminous.

Irian Artifacts
The Aereni harness Irian's energy, using it to create many of their tools, but industry isn't one of the core concepts of Irian and relics from the plane itself are relatively rare. Whether from the plane itself or simply drawing on its power, items tie to the effects of positive energy: healing, dealing radiant damage, generating light, bringing hope, or overcoming fear. A scroll that provides a single trip to the Refuge would be an invaluable boon.

Plants that grow in Irian manifest zones can often have remarkable properties. Many of of Aerenal's exotic lumbers—notably livewood—only grow in Irian zones. Araam's crown is a flower with remarkable medicinal properties; House Jorasco requires a steady supply of it for their healing potions. Another flower, dawn's glory, has euphoric properties and is used to make a drug often called fool's hope or liquid courage. This drug grants temporary immunity to fear, but with the side effect of encouraging dangerous and foolhardy behavior; it's strictly illegal in Sharn, due to the risk of users jumping off bridges.

Irian Stories
At first glance, Irian can seem much too good to be true. Its inhabitants are benevolent, and it heals you every round. What's the catch?

At the most basic level, there isn't a catch. It's the literal embodiment of light triumphing over darkness and the power of hope. While certain diseases could be seen as tied to the concept of growth, Irian doesn't have a dark side in the same way as, for example, Daanvi. However, there are a few obvious limitations. It's not an easy plane to reach, as its manifest zones don't act as portals. So the Refuge is a perfect shelter for anyone who can reach it, but you have to find a way to get there. And with the Refuge in particular, you get one free visit, but after that, Araam expects you to help someone else before she'll welcome you again.

There are a few ideas you can explore. The first is that unfounded hope can be dangerous. A lumi or deva might spread hope because that's its nature—but in doing so, may convince people they have a chance to defeat an enemy that they should actually be fleeing from. You can also explore mortal forces abusing the power of Irian—Jorasco seizing a manifest zone to grow Araam's crown or criminals trafficking in fool's hope.

A Wound That Will Not Heal. Perhaps a villain wields a Mabaran scythe that deals wounds that can't be healed by magic or rest, or a hag lays a terrible curse on an adventurer. It's said that all wounds and woes can be cured in the Refuge of Irian. But how will the adventurers reach the Eternal Dawn, and what will Araam ask of them in return?
Beyond the Grave. When the adventurers cross paths with a lumi, it hails them. It holds the memory of a hero who once saved the life of one of the characters, and that debt was never repaid; the lumi asks them to honor that by helping with its current quest. This could be a debt incurred during the party's travels, or even something from a character's backstory; you could ask a player to tell you about a time someone saved their character's life, and let them add depth to the debt.
A New Realm. A barren region on the border of two nations or rival clans suddenly becomes a wondrous, fertile oasis. This is the result of a planar seed taking root. In addition to whatever remarkable plants or resources it holds, it's become an Irian manifest zone—a valuable resource. Dispute over the territory could have disastrous consequences; can the adventurers prevent bloodshed? And has the Architect hidden any secrets or artifacts in this seed land?
Kythri: The Churning Chaos
p169
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
It's hard to keep a consistent rhythm in Kythri. It takes effort to maintain any pattern of behavior; without even thinking about it, people in Kythri adjust their behavior to avoid repetition. This is the essence of Kythri. On the one hand it's a vision of chaos, but it's also about change, adapting to overcome the unexpected, and challenging traditions.

Kythri is commonly imagined as utterly unstable, with landscapes taking shape only to boil away within moments. And this is true of the heart of the realm, known as the Sea of Chaos. But at the edges of the sea, there are islands that linger. The environments of these Shifting Islands steadily and constantly change; a vast desert might be a lush rainforest in a few hours. But the land itself remains constant, and creatures can live on these islands, adapting to the endlessly changing environment.

While Kythri constantly changes, its elements are usually natural. A jungle becomes a desert, a blizzard becomes a sandstorm—but it's comprised of sand, not tiny marble busts of King Boranel. This distinguishes Kythri from Xoriat or Dal Quor; while constantly changing, it's generally change between plausible options, unlike the unreal environments of the Realm of Madness and the Region of Dreams.

Universal Properties
All things change in Kythri, even time and the future. The only thing that's truly reliable is that nothing's reliable.

Broken Rhythms. A creature can't take the exact same action on two consecutive turns. If it previously stood still, it must move. If it previously moved, it can stand still or move a different distance. A creature can cast a spell in two consecutive turns, but it can't be the same spell. A creature can attack on two consecutive turns, but the second attack must be described as substantially different in style from the one before.
Fluid in Form. When a creature casts a transmutation spell, its range is doubled; if it has a duration of at least 1 minute but less than 24 hours, the duration is doubled.
Embrace the Unknown. In order to cast a divination spell of 1st level or higher, a creature must succeed on a spellcasting ability check with a DC equal to 12 + the level of the spell. On a failed check, the spell is not cast and its spell slot is not expended, but the action is lost. Divination spells cast on other planes can't affect or target creatures, places, or objects on Kythri.
The Odds Are Odd. If the d20 roll for an attack is a 1 or a 2, the attack misses regardless of any modifiers or the target's AC. If the d20 roll for an attack is a 19 or 20, the attack hits regardless of any modifiers or the target's AC, and is considered a critical hit. If a creature has an ability or item that increases its normal range of critical hits—such as the Champion fighter's Improved Critical—its range increases by 1.
Constant Change. Nothing remains exactly the same in Kythri. Whenever a creature finishes a short or long rest, it finds that something changed about it or its possessions. Each player should describe what's changed about their character; this could be as simple as your cloak changing color or your sword now having a stylish Aundairian design when it was originally Karrnathi. You could choose for the change to be physical—your skin, hairstyle, or sex—or mental—you suddenly hate olives or no longer believe in the Sovereign Host. These changes have no mechanical impact: the coins in your pocket may change in design, but copper coins won't turn into platinum. If you want a change to have mechanical impact—for example, if your cleric's faith or race changes and you want your character sheet to reflect that—discuss the possibility with your DM.
Chaotic Time. Time is fluid in Kythri, inconsistent both with the Material Plane and within its own islands. Adventurers who spend a day in Kythri could find that a year has passed in Eberron, or they could be trapped in Kythri for a year and find that only an hour has passed when they return.
Denizens
Most of Kythri's denizens fall into one of three categories.

Wild Things
The islands of Kythri are inhabited. But how can a creature survive in an environment that can be a desert today and a glacier tomorrow? The answer, of course, is that the creature must change with the environment. Kythri's islands include some creatures that appear to be natural beasts, though they change as the region around them does; the wolf in the forest becomes an arctic wolf when the land turns into a glacier, and turns into a jackal when it's a desert. Even beyond their practical changes for survival, Kythrian creatures might be constantly shifting their plumage, behavior, and more fundamental biology, whether from moment to moment or day to day.

However, not all of Kythri's wild things transform into familiar forms. Part of the plane's core concept is evolving in response to change, and Kythri is home to many creatures that blend the features of two or more natural beasts: monstrosities such as the owlbear, griffon, and chimera. It's commonly accepted that at least some of these monstrosities first appeared in Kythri, and that they first appeared in Eberron either by passing through portals or due to the influence of manifest zones.

Just as the environments of Kythri are chaotic but largely blend natural elements, Kythrian monstrosities typically blend the forms of natural creatures. While there are hippogriffs and griffons in Kythri, inherently alien creatures like kruthiks and gricks aren't found here. The wild things of Kythri also include natural shapechangers, notably a wide variety of mimics—even colossal ones that can assume the shape of natural features such as hills or mountains. It's quite likely the mimics of Eberron either immigrated from Kythri or were created by its influence, much like the sahuagin of the Eternal Dominion use the blood of the kar'lassa bound to Kythri to create their plasmids.

Unlike other planes where these wild things would likely be manifestations, the wild things of Kythri are mortal creatures. They live, reproduce, and die following (mostly) natural means, and have to find sustenance and shelter in their islands. Between the strange flow of time and unusual environments, this can lead to dramatic surges in populations or sudden extinctions. However, the plane itself seeds new life into islands that somehow become depopulated, and if all the griffons in Kythri were to die, new ones would eventually evolve. So even though Kythri doesn't have manifestations, it ensures a steady stream of mortals exist—and when they die, it replaces them.

Artist: Lucas Bonatto Guerrini
Artist: Lucas Bonatto Guerrini
Slaadi
p170
The slaadi are native immortals of Kythri. Though they do reproduce (in strange and disturbing ways) and can die of mortal ailments, they're defined as immortals because their population remains constant. Whenever a new slaad is born—whatever the method of its creation—an existing slaad dies, seemingly at random. And whenever a slaad is killed, a new one is formed. So while they seem to share many of the traits of mortals, they can never be wiped out even if they die en masse, and even if a blue slaad transforms a village of humans into slaadi with the chaos phage, the overall number of slaadi doesn't increase.

The slaadi are the only native civilization of Kythri. They aren't a monolithic society; some live in massive cities, while others are tiny rustic communities. Each slaad community has its own distinct culture and a grand name, and the Slaad Cultures table provides a few examples of these—but there are many more, and they're constantly changing. The grand city of Cornerstone may be the seat of the brutal Concordance of Iron today, and the Enlightened Lyceum League a month later. These changes are astonishingly fast, but they aren't instant; there are usually at least a few days of chaotic transition and revolution in between a change. The scope of a community won't change—Cornerstone is always a metropolis, while Turn is always a village—but the structures of the community shift. Under the Concordance of Iron, Cornerstone is filled with brutalist iron towers, while the Cornerstone of the Lyceum League is filled with slender glass spires.

The slaadi themselves retain their core forms while their buildings and government change. Red slaadi are always red toad-like creatures that implant eggs, but the Lyceum slaadi might be tall and slender, while the Concordance slaadi are squat and heavy. Kythri's influence can also cause slaadi to change color. So slaadi follow standard methods for creating particular colors—a blue slaad infects creatures with chaos phage, creating red or green slaadi—but a green slaad could go to sleep one night and wake up as a death slaad, and vice versa. In a culture like the Concordance, that means leadership frequently changes, because it's based on color, not personality.

Because slaad cultures change so rapidly, they rarely enact plans beyond their own communities, though cities occasionally clash. Some weeks they seek to exterminate the githzerai, and other weeks, to ally with them. You never know what you'll get.

Githzerai
p171
The githzerai aren't natives of Kythri, and their presence is an act of defiance: through unparalleled mental discipline, they create bastions of order in the heart of chaos. If they seek order, why don't they dwell in Daanvi? It's not that they simply desire order, but to strengthen their will by imposing it on a reality that absolutely defies it. The struggle is the purpose. Beyond this, they're served by the fact that even great powers can't scry into Kythri. The "Eberron and the Gith" sidebar explains how the githzerai came to Kythri and what they seek to accomplish.

The githzerai don't dwell on the Shifting Islands of Kythri. Instead, they've created their own islands in the Sea of Chaos: vast monastery vessels the size of small towns, moving through the eddies of chaos and defying transformation. The githzerai devote themselves to meditation and self-improvement, with little interest in what transpires beyond their monasteries. They have no particular love of outsiders—they consider all creatures of Eberron to be warped shadows of their stolen reality—but neither are they inherently hostile. A persuasive group of adventurers could find brief shelter in a githzerai monastery, especially if they bring something interesting to trade or have compelling stories to share. However, should the outsiders offend the githzerai, they'll feel no remorse in eliminating them; there's nothing evil in shining light to dispel a shadow.

Eberron and the Gith
Long ago, a proud empire was crushed by the daelkyr. But this wasn't the Empire of Dhakaan, but a nation of gifted psychics who lived in towers of crysteel and sentira. Dyrrn the Corruptor transformed their champions into the first illithids, using them as living weapons to subjugate their own people. When defeat was inevitable, the great leader Gith led a planar exodus, fleeing into Kythri. The Churning Chaos hid the refugees from pursuit, and through absolute discipline, they imposed stability upon chaos.

Once the refugees regained their strength, a bitter divide split their people. Zerthimon the Wise maintained that the people of Gith should remain within Kythri. He believed mental discipline was the ultimate key to victory and that, in time, they could gain the power to reclaim their reality. But Gith was a warrior, and her followers yearned for battle. They wanted to build their strength and resources by raiding every layer of reality until they found a way to destroy Xoriat.

This situation remains today. The githzerai dwell in their monastery vessels in Kythri, gaining strength through the endless imposition of order upon chaos. The githyanki dwell in vast fortress-ships the size of cities, anchored in the trackless wastes of the Astral Plane, but their raiders can attack any plane. They slaughter devils in Shavarath and pillage the grand galas of Fernia. At any time, a githyanki warship could attack a major city in Khorvaire; it's up to the DM if this has ever happened before, or if the githyanki have left Eberron alone. Alternately, a githyanki merchant could be a recurring NPC, showing up and offering items pillaged from across the planes. Where the githzerai are serene and disciplined, the githyanki are passionate and aggressive. All gith despise the daelkyr and slaughter illithids whenever they can, and they could be curious and unexpected allies against a cult of the Dragon Below.

Hearing this tale, one might well ask: where are the gith from? They're from Eberron—but not the Eberron that exists today. They came from a world surrounded by the Ring of Siberys, but there were no humans or elves on their Eberron. According to the githzerai, when the daelkyr completed their work on Eberron, they wiped the gith world from existence and created a new reality. If this is true, they may have done this countless times... and if they break the Gatekeeper seals, they could do it again. What the githzerai ultimately hope to achieve is to reassert their reality onto the Material Plane.

It's possible that the gith are deluded about all of this. Even if the gith myth is true, it's doubtful the githzerai will ever have the strength to rewrite reality. But can it be entirely dismissed? Note that the draconic allies of the githyanki are descended from dragons from the gith Eberron; they have no loyalty to Argonnessen, and could be a curious wild card.

Time moves strangely in Kythri and the Astral Plane, and the gith could've been dwelling in Kythri and raiding reality for thousands of years—or it could be that from their perspective, the destruction of reality was barely a century ago. Are the githyanki led by an ancient lich-queen, or by Gith herself?

Greater Powers?
No one knows if there's a greater power shaping Kythri. The death slaadi are powerful beings, but there's no known equivalent to Dolurrh's Queen of the Dead or Dal Quor's il-Lashtavar. Some sages assert that there must be a consciousness at the heart of the Sea of Chaos, a sentience behind the chaos, but if so, its presence has never been proven.

Layers
Unlike many planes, Kythri isn't divided into layers. Its structure is closer to that of Dal Quor; it has a planar core, with islands of reality suspended within the Sea of Chaos. The difference is that the core of Dal Quor is stable—while in Kythri, the closer you get to the heart of the sea, the more tumultuous it becomes.

There are many slaad communities spread across the Shifting Islands, and at least half a dozen githzerai monastery vessels in the Sea of Chaos. Cornerstone and Zertherun IV are examples that can be used as inspiration.

The Sea of Chaos
Space has little meaning in the Sea of Chaos. Matter, distance, and gravity are in constant flux. Lands and creatures appear and dissolve within moments. There are waves of lightning, streams of lava, and hurricane winds constantly shifting direction. While the elements may be mundane—unlike the surreal vistas of Xoriat—size has little meaning. A thousand-foot-long dragon turtle might appear, try to swallow travelers, then become an island.

Travel through the Sea of Chaos is driven by pure will. Travelers must impose the concept of motion and distance on the environment using great mental focus, while also protecting their vessel from both the destructive forces and from being transformed. The DM could reflect this journey with a series of ability checks, or simply require the adventurers to have a captain and vessel capable of making the trip before they try to cross the sea. Regardless, to successfully travel, the adventurers must know where they want to go; without a destination to serve as a conceptual anchor, they'll quickly crash on a random Shifting Island.

The Shifting Islands
p172
There are countless islands on the edge of the Sea of Chaos, varying dramatically in size, each with its own environment. These are constantly changing, but they change slowly; it can take anywhere from a day to a week for an island to shift from a barren desert to a verdant jungle. Weather is generally more dynamic, and often at odds with the environment; a vast desert can suddenly face a dramatic blizzard. The DM can use the tables in chapter 5 of the Dungeon Master's Guide to determine weather, rolling again whenever it seems interesting to do so.

Other tables in that chapter can also be quite useful for determining the chaotic content of an island; the Monuments and Wierd Locales tables are a way to provide ideas for random discoveries, thought he DM can adjust them to fith the story and the theme. Keep in mind that Kythri is home to mimics of all sizes; an unusual monument might be a colossal mimic!

The primary denizens of the Shifting Island are monstrosities and beasts that blend the features of multiple creatures. Populations expand and contract, and don't have to be sustainable, so adventurers could find a plateau filled with griffons, or a realm of chimeras where each one has a different arrangement of heads. The intelligent inhabitants of the island are almost entirely slaadi, but they aren't neccessarily hostile. The Slaad Cultures table earlier in the section can give ideas about their motives, and the Random Settlements tables in chapter 5 of the Dungeon Master's Guide can generate a random slaad community. The Race Relations tables could refer to the different colors of slaadi, or to their relations to intelligent monstrosities or planar travelers; the "racial minority are rulers" result could be a slaad village where adventurers are worshiped as gods!

Cornerstone
Cornerstone is the largest of the slaad cities. Its architectural style and precise layout are constantly changing, but it's always a sprawling city that houses hundreds of thousands of slaadi. If Cornerstone is held by the Concordance of Iron, it has vast armies drilling (though their tactics and units constantly shift). If it's under the influence of the Final Regency, there are immense temples and countless shrines to the slaadi interpretation of the Sovereigns. The Random Settlements tables of the Dungeon Master's Guide can be useful here to determine specific attributes of the current incarnation.

The attitude of slaadi toward adventurers depends on the active culture. The Final Regency may welcome adventurers who profess devotion to the Sovereigns, provided they don't question the Regency interpretation. The Confluence of Reality celebrates extraplanar visitors, desiring their stories and performances. Meanwhile, the Cornerstone of the Glorious Union of Flesh is a very dangerous place to visit! Regardless, Cornerstone is the best place to acquire Kythrian artifacts or magical services.

Zertherun IV
Zertherun IV is one of the monastery vessels of the githzerai. It's under the guidance of the Serene Azera, whose mental discipline maintains the stability of the ship. The Alazerth Elemon is a senior monk charged with dealing with outsiders, which is sometimes a matter of diplomatic negotiations, and other times, rallying zerths to defend the vessel from attack. Like most githzerai, Elemon isn't inherently hostile toward outsiders, but has no great love for them; his reaction is based entirely on the actions and approach of the visitors.

Kythri's Broken Rhythms and The Odds Are Odd properties don't apply in a githzerai monastery, and while Constant Change exists, its effects are minimized. Zertherun IV maintains capacitors for change, such as gardens of small stones and engraved wheels with shifting patterns, which absorb the energies of change and prevent it from transforming the vessel.

Planar Manifestations
Here are ways that Kythri can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Kythrian manifest zones are often unpredictable in minor ways. Weather patterns may deviate from the surrounding region and change on a moment's notice. The plane's universal properites also carry over to many manifest zones. Any Kythrian zone with the Constant Change property might produce monstrosities. A zone with the Fluid in Form property amplifies the effects of transmutation magic and can have dramatic effects on the success of magebreeding; these zones are extraordinarily valuable to House Vadalis.

Manifest zones can occasionally serve as gateways, allowing creatures from Kythri to slip through into Eberron, intentionally or accidentally. Many monstrosities make their home in the wilds, whereas other creatures—like slaadi—can present vaery unusual encounters, depending what culture they're from.

Coterminous and Remote
Kythri's cycle of coterminous and remote periods is completely unpredictable, lasting anywhere from days to centuries. Curiously, its proximity to Eberron has no discernable effects.

Kythrian Artifacts
Materials from Kythrian manifest zones are often important components of magic items tied to transmutation or illusion; shiftweave uses fibers of plants harvested in Kythrian zones, and as noted in chapter 4, the manifest zone of Hal'kyth is a vital part of the transmutation industry of the Eternal Dominion. Items that come from Kythri may have unpredictable effects. For example, a hat of disguise from Kythri may function normally when its wearer keeps in mind exactly what they want to look like; but if they don't consciously enforce an appearance, it slowly but continuously changes minor elements of their disguise.

Kythrian Stories
Visitors from Kythri can cause excitement, and an accidental journey to a Shifting Island can be an easy source of adventure; can the adventurers find a way back before they are consumed by the Churning Chaos? Here are a few other ideas.

Vadalis Park. The dragonmarked houses are looking for new sources of revenue in the wake of the Last War. Jalan d'Vadalis, a brilliant magebreeder, has created a resort where people can interact with a vast array of intriguing monstrosities, including a few of his own design. This park is built on a Kythrian manifest zone, and Jalan hasn't yet recognized that the Constant Change property is sabotaging his security systems and dangerously mutating his monstrosities. He was so preoccupied with whether he could do it, he didn't stop to think whether he should...
Terror at Sea. While at sea, the adventurers pass through a Kythrian manifest zone at exactly the wrong time, and a blue or red slaadi from the Union of Flesh slips aboard the ship. It infects or implants a few passengers, doing its best to hide. Can the adventurers defeat this lurking threat before it's too late? Or will a wave of newborn slaadi take over the ship?
Superstars. A gray slaad reveals its presence to the adventurers. It's from the Confluence of Reality and wants to bring the adventurers to Cornerstone to represent their cultures. What could go wrong? Well, while the Confluence is usually peaceful, this time it wants the adventurers to represent their culture in a massive extraplanar gladiatorial match. Can they defeat champions from across Eberron and the other planes? Or is the only hope of survival to flee into the Sea of Chaos and try to find another way home?
The Hunt. The adventurers stumble into a pitched battle: a trio of githzerai ambushed by Transcendent Flesh cultists. Only one survives the battle. This zerth has a psychic connection to the illithid master of the cult cell, and is determined to bring down this mind flayer. Will the adventurers work with the zerth and end this threat? And is this solely about the hunt, or does the githzerai have a hidden agenda?
Lamannia: The Twilight Forest
p173
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Lamannia embodies primordial nature, untapped and untamable. It's often called the Twilight Forest, and is depicted as a realm of colossal trees and massive beasts. However, the forest is just one of the facets of Lamannia. Every natural environment is represented in various layers that exemplify and exaggerate their features. Windswept desert, raging ocean, endless plains—all can be found here. In other planes, these environments are backdrops to the story the realm is telling. In Lamannia, the environment is the story. It doesn't need the help of fey or fiends to make its point, because the land itself is the point.

Some scholars assert that Lamannia served as a blueprint for the Material Plane—that here, the Progenitors perfected the ideas of storm and stone. They believe that the natural world is infused with the essence of Lamannia, and that druids and others who wield primal magic actually manipulate that Lamannian essence. And indeed, druids who travel to the Twilight Forest can be overwhelmed by the sheer force of nature that infuses this place.

Lamannia lies close to the world, and it's one of the easiest planes to reach. Its treasures are natural objects imbued with elemental power—wood, stone, herbs, and plants, all of which are stronger and more potent than their mortal counterparts. But when you come to Lamannia, there are many predators, and you are prey; anyone who seeks to despoil the embodiment of nature will be hunted.

Universal Properties
Lamannia is a reflection of the natural world, intensified and exaggerated. The air is pure and clean, the water fresh and clear. Colors are impossibly vivid. It's suffused with life—a realm in which any stone could be an earth elemental, where any tree could be awakened. Vegetation is nearly always in bloom, and beasts are almost always in the peak of health. Except for a few layers such as the Rot, Lamannia reflects the ideal state of the natural world. Here are some of the plane's consistent properties.

Extended Druidic Magic. When a creature casts a druid spell with a duration of 1 minute or longer while in Lamannia, the duration is doubled. Spells with a duration of 24 hours or more are unaffected. A DM could decide to extend this effect to other characters that draw on primal sources of magic, such as a Gatekeeper ranger or a Greensinger bard.
Indomitable Beasts. Beasts and elementals have a +2 bonus to Constitution and advantage on Wisdom, Intelligence, and Charisma saving throws. Upon its arrival in Lamannia, any elemental or beast that's charmed or bound in any way is immediately freed from that effect; this can be disastrous for an elemental airship that's thrown into the plane.
Elemental Power. When a creature casts a spell that summons or conjures an elemental, it does so as if the spell were cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended.
The Land Provides. A creature has advantage on Wisdom (Survival) checks made to forage for food or shelter. In most layers of Lamannia, the vegetation is bountiful and the land sustaining. (While in the Broken Land, it may be very difficult to forage, but you'll at least have advantage to help you with the roll!)
Primordial Matter. It's difficult to destroy or contaminate the matter of Lamannia. All nonmagical food and drink is purified and rendered free of poison and disease. In addition, natural materials such as wood and stone are tougher than their mundane counterparts. When trying to destroy objects made of Lamannian materials, increase the Armor Class suggested in chapter 8 of the Dungeon Master's Guide by 3, and double the hit points of the object.
Standard Time. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.
Denizens
Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.

Beasts
Lamannia's primary inhabitants are beasts—both ones that you might encounter in the wilds of Eberron, and massive creatures that can be seen as iconic representations of their type: the idealized incarnation of Bear or Wolf. Any natural creature can be found in Lamannia; indeed, some sages assert that the presence of a creature in Lamannia is what defines it as "natural."

For the most part, Lamannian beasts are no smarter than their counterparts on Eberron. However, some animals possess intelligence similar to that granted by the awaken spell, though even these beasts generally follow their natural instincts and live wild lives. While the giant owls of Sharn may own shops and run for city council, the giant owls of Lamannia are content to hunt the beasts of the Twilight Forest. So it's possible to find creatures in Lamannia that speak Common or a Primordial dialect, but most have little interest in long conversations.

The beasts of Lamannia generally fall into the following four categories.

Mundane animals. are identical to their counterparts in Eberron. Any natural creature can be found in a layer with an appropriate environment. If such beasts are the first things adventurers encounter in a visit to Lamannia, they might not even realize they've traveled to another plane.
Dire animals. are creatures of remarkable size. Such creatures are more common than mundane animals; in the Twilight Forest, most owls are giant owls, and they prey on giant weasels and rats. The Monster Manual has a few examples of "dire" and "giant" beasts, but any natural beast could have a dire counterpart in Lamannia.
Megafauna. re gargantuan beasts. The roc is an example of Lamannian megafauna; those found in Eberron have been drawn through manifest zones or slipped between planes during coterminous periods. The DM can create a wide range of megafauna; a pack of gargantuan wolves could hound the adventurers, or they might meet a megafauna serpent that uses the statistics of a purple work—perhaps even a megafauna dinosaur! While these creatures are similar in form to beasts, they are typically classified as monstrosities. Between their vast size and their connection to the plane, they're immune to most effects that target beasts, and you can't charm a roc with a simple animal friendship spell.
Totems. are beasts that are beyond the tactical scale—creatures that can be measured in miles. The gnome explorer Tasker tells a tale of an island in the Endless Ocean that turned out to be an enormous turtle; another of his stories features a pack of lycanthropes living in the fur of a massive roaming wolf. Such totems aren't natural creatures and don't need to eat. Their origins and purpose are unsolved mysteries, but most sages believe that they are immortal spirits projected by the plane itself. Some claim that the totems are connected to all creatures cast in their image. Others believe that the totems are sources of primal power, and barbarians, shifters, and druids can receive power and guidance from them. All that's known for sure is that they're immune to common spells, and there are no accounts of anyone successfully harming or communicating with a totem.
Elementals
p174
After beasts, the most common inhabitants of the plane are elementals. Unlike the genies, mephits, and anthropomorphic elementals of Fernia and Syrania, Lamannia's elementals are the pure, living essence of the elements, unburdened by any humanoid desire. These include the standard earth, fire, air, and water elementals, but they can come in a wide array of sizes and forms. Adventurers exploring the Broken Lands could encounter tiny globs of lava crawling across the land, while the leviathans of the Endless Ocean and the elder tempests of the First Storm are forces of apocalyptic power.

The Zil gnomes commonly summon and bind the elementals of Lamannia, using them to propel lightning rails and airships. While intelligent, these elementals are utterly alien. They have little concept of time and perceive the world purely through the balance of elements. The sole desire of most elementals is to express their element: to burn, to flow, to fly. Many have an antagonistic attitude toward spirits of other elements, which drives the deadly conflict between them in the Broken Land—this poses an obstacle in dealing with elementals, as they tend to perceive humanoids as globs of water. While it's possible for a character that speaks Primordial to talk with a Lamannian elemental, it's usually difficult to establish any sort of common basis for negotiation. Still, there are legends of wandering druids who "befriended earth and air," so anything is possible!

Humanoids
There are merfolk in Eberron—such as the Kalamer of the Thunder Sea—but their people began in the Endless Ocean of Lamannia, and are still found there. These primordial merfolk remain close to their elemental roots and instincts. They wield druidic magic, but don't craft tools or structures. Other humanoid natives of Lamannia are much the same; any race with a strong primal connection could be tied to Lamannia, but they're driven by instinct and avoid the trappings of civilization. There could be tabaxi dwelling in the branches of the Twilight Forest, but if so, they'll seem wild.

Over a century ago, during the Silver Crusade, there were many lycanthropes who fled to Lamannia. As long as they remain on this plane, a lycanthrope can't spread the curse to anyone other than their offspring, and the unnatural impulses of the curse—the drive to prey on innocents, the bloodlust that can cause a victim of lycanthropy to lose control of their actions—are suspended. Meanwhile, primal instincts are amplified; Lamannian werewolves remain predators and take joy in the hunt, but they aren't driven to evil, and remain in full control. Packs and communities of lycanthropes are scattered across the layers. Most are descended from lycanthropes who fled Eberron to escape both the templars and the dark power whose corrupting influence led to the crusade; these shapeshifters embrace their primal nature and rarely assume humanoid forms. But there are also packs descended from afflicted templars who chose exile over death, and who strive to preserve the beliefs and traditions of their ancestors.

A handful of druids and rangers have crossed into Lamannia and chosen to remain in this primal paradise. Many run with lycanthrope packs, embracing their feral instincts and spending their days in wild shape. Others act as planar shepherds, seeking to minimize the impact of dangerous manifest zones and help unwary travelers.

Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Greater Powers?
p175
There are no celestials or fiends in Lamannia. Yet explorers often report a feeling that they are being watched, and there are times when random events seem to be guided by an unseen hand. When outsiders have sought to establish industries in Lamannia, they've been attacked by megafauna or elder elementals, or struck by especially vicious turns of weather. It's possible that this is the work of the totems, and that they have great influence over their layers. Or there could be a greater power that watches over the entire plane. Some scholars assert that the moon Olarune is the consciousness that governs the plane, and Eldeen shifter traditions that predate the practices of the Wardens of the Wood also reflect this belief. Shifter druids suggest that Olarune created the shifters, and the first lycanthropes were her champions.

Layers
Each of Lamannia's layers highlights a particular aspect of primal nature. One layer in Lamannia might contain a single colossal mountain peak; on the other hand, the Twilight Forest could be as large as Khorvaire (or even Eberron itself). The edge of a layer could be an impassable physical barrier, or it could wrap around onto itself—if you sail far enough in the Endless Ocean, you'll find yourself back where you began. Most layers of Lamannia follow a traditional day-night cycle, though they aren't synchronized across layers, and when the moon Olarune is visible, it's always full.

The portals that connect the layers of Lamannia often only allow travel in one direction. Any deep pool of water may connect a layer to the Endless Ocean; but while you can get to the Ocean by diving into a pond in the Twilight Forest, there's no gate back to the forest on the other side. The Endless Ocean contains small islands, and if you explore one, you'll find you've moved to a new layer.

The following are just a handful of Lamannia's many layers. In creating a layer, think of a distinctive natural feature—a canyon, a desert, a lone mountain—and build the layer around it. What creatures would be found there? Have any outsiders taken up residence? Is there an unusual role for elementals? How does it connect to other layers or Eberron?

The Twilight Forest
The sky is hidden by the dense canopy of this vast rainforest, leaving the forest floor in an endless twilight. The trees are over a hundred feet in height—impressive, certainly, though not as tall as the greatpines of the Towering Wood in the Eldeen Reaches. But as people further explore the Twilight Forest, they come upon strange ridges and walls of wood, some forming twisted wooden canyons. Following these, explorers discover they're the roots of unimaginably colossal trees, vast titans wider and taller than the towers of Sharn. The Twilight Forest as mortals experience it lies in the shadow of the grander canopy that rises far above it, and these enormous trees are home to megafauna and mightier beings.

Though the Twilight Forest is wild and untamed, explorers can find wide cleared paths through the lower forest. Survival experts may recognize that these aren't trails created by humanoid hands; rather, they're the paths of totems, who have crushed the lesser forest beneath their colossal feet. The forest is filled with beasts—mundane and dire creatures in the lower forests, megafauna in the grand canopy above it, and the occasional passage of totems. There are multiple communities of lycanthropes scattered throughout the lower forest. A clan of wererats have carved out a warren in the roots of a colossal tree, while a pack of wild wereboars feuds with werewolves descended from exiled templars. An ancient elf druid named Haral, who spends most of her time in the form of an owl, does her best to maintain order; she is assisted in this by a megafauna owl she calls Ruark.

The forest has many other inhabitants, and a few minor elementals can be found in this layer. A gust of wind, a pool of water, a rolling stone—in Lamannia, any of these things could be alive.

The Broken Land
The Broken Land is a volcanic region filled with high mountains and lava plains. There are constant eruptions, and the layer is home to many fire and earth elementals that engage in an ongoing environmental conflict. Fire elementals flow out with the lava as volcanoes erupt; earth elementals work to contain the eruptions and to rebuild the shattered peaks, only to have them erupt again. Few beasts manage to thrive in this layer, but some tough dinosaurs have clawed out a niche. While this region has fewer connections to Eberron than the Twilight Forest, it's also possible to find remnants of other travelers here; it's a harsh and deadly landscape for stranded adventurers or for those who seek a lost relic from this place.

The Endless Ocean
This layer reflects the majesty of the ocean depths. It's home to a vast array of fish and aquatic beasts, along with merfolk tribes and a wide range of water elementals, from simple sentient currents and weirds to massive leviathans and battling megafauna. The Endless Ocean is where the gnome Tasker encountered an island that turned out to be a totem turtle. True islands are few and far between, and most are actually portals to other layers of Lamannia. There are many points in the Endless Ocean tied to manifest zones (most located in ocean depths) in the Material Plane.

The First Storm
A layer of plains and low hills, this region is permanently lashed by hurricane winds and endless storms. Beasts huddle in caves and the limited shelter, while all manner of elementals clash in the storm-lashed plains. A massive elder tempest drives the heart of the storm; during the Sundering of Sarlona, an apocalyptic cult in Ohr Kaluun sought to bring this elemental to Eberron, believing it would destroy the world.

The Rot
Decay is part of nature, and this is reflected in the swamp-like Rot, a relatively small layer filled with fallen, rotting trees. Corpses of megafauna beasts lie scattered around the layer, and giant insects and other massive scavengers prey on their remains. There's a community of wererats thriving in the Rot, and there could be a small outpost of the Children of Winter who found their way here. While the Rot is a symbol of death and decay, it's entirely natural, and undead have no place here. IT's possible a necromancer could arrive here, hoping to animate the massive corpsese; however, this would violate the theme of the plane, and if there's any higher power at work in Lamannia, it would certianly direct forces to counter this. While most layers of Lamannia are free from disease, disease itself is part of nature; a manifest zone tied to the Rot could spread plagues into the surrounding region.

Titan's Folly
p176
Lamannia is filled with precious natural resources; it's hardly surprising that an advanced civilization would try to harvest them. During the Age of Giants, the Group of Eleven set up a research station and mining camp in a layer of Lamannia. After a decade struggling against megafauna attacks and elemental-enhanced weather, the outpost was finally overwhelmed and abandoned. It's a testament to the arcane engineering of the giants that anything remains of this structure... although it may be that it remains because the ruin itself has become a symbol of nature reclaiming civilization. Vines and moss cover shattered walls, and the bones of giants are scattered throughout the remnants of this garrison. Valuable and powerful treasures may well be hidden in the Folly, but explorers will have to contend with aggressive elementals, dangerous beasts, and traps left by the long-dead giants themselves.

Planar Manifestations
A town is established in the desolate Blade Desert, but it thrives beside a small lake that provides fresh water and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of fish. In a small Eldeen village, the locals live in harmony with a breed of giant rabbits unknown elsewhere in Khorvaire. A tribe of shifters lives in the branches of three massive trees that grow in a Lamannian manifest zone. These are all examples of how Lamannia can affect the Material Plane; below are a few more.

Manifest Zones
Lamannian manifest zones are relatively common, and usually share one or more of the plane's universal properties. They're often found at the heart of a region that resembles the connected layer; zones tied to the Endless Ocean are found underwater, while manifest zones tied to the Twilight Forest can be found in the Towering Wood, the King's Forest, and other vast woodlands. It's relatively common for these zones to serve as gateways to Lamannia, though they might require a lunar alignment or a coterminous period. This goes in reverse too, as creatures can be pulled through to the Material Plane, from hostile elementals to deadly megafauna.

Zilargo has a number of valuable zones with the Elemental Power property, and House Cannith and the Twelve are eager to find more of these zones—though they're also dangerous, as elementals sometimes spontaneously manifest in such places, linger for a few hours, then dissipate. Bound elementals can also break free from their bonds in some Lamannian manifest zones—especially unfortunate if that elemental is responsible for keeping an airship aloft!

Plants and beasts near Lamannian zones often are significantly larger and healthier than their counterparts in other areas, and many House Vadalis enclaves are built in these zones. Zones with the Primordial Matter property can also be a valuable resource for communities, with purified food and water and the presence of extremely durable wood and other materials for industry. The prison of Dreadhold is built in such a manifest zone.

However, though Lamannian manifest zones can be useful tools for communities and dragonmarked houses, some zones actively resist and repel civilization. Weather, vegetation, and a rapid rate of decay can combine to quickly destroy structures built in the zone and overgrow the ruins

Coterminous and Remote
While Lamannia is coterminous, the effects of Lamannian manifest zones are enhanced. In regions of unspoiled nature—such as the Eldeen Reaches and the wilds of Q'barra—fertility of both plants and animals is enhanced, and beasts conceived in these periods are often exceptionally strong and healthy. Spells that target beasts or elementals are extended; if a spell has a duration of 1 minute or longer, the duration is doubled; spells with a duration of 24 hours or more are unaffected.

While Lamannia is remote, fertility rates drop, and beasts born in these periods are often weak or sickly. Animals are often uneasy, and the duration of spells that affect beasts or elementals are cut in half, to a minimum duration of one round.

Lamannia traditionally becomes coterminous for a week around the summer solstice, and is remote for a week during the winter solstice.

Lamannian Artifacts
Lamannian vegetation is prized by alchemists. Herbs and roots from Lamannia can produce exceptionally strong potions, and many types of Lamannian vegetation have innate magical effects; there are bushes in the Twilight Forest that naturally produce goodberries. Lamannian lumber likewise can have unusual properties, mirroring the densewood and bronzewood found in Aerenal. Lamannian wood and stone can serve as powerful focuses for primal magic, for creating figurines of wondrous power, or for tools designed to summon or bind elementals.

Lamannian Stories
Lamannia is a source of elementals and dire beasts. It's wild and untamed, strengthening primal magic and providing a haven to lycanthropes. It resists any intrusion by civilization. Here are a few ideas for working it into your story.

A Savage Land. When a party of adventurers unknowingly passes through a Lamannian gateway, they must find a way to survive in this wild realm. This could be as simple as finding another manifest zone to take them home, or it could require them to survive in Lamannia for months while waiting for the planes to become coterminous. Or perhaps their airship passes through a manifest zone and the elemental breaks free; the adventurers are stranded, along with other survivors.
Megafauna Island. An island near a Lamannian manifest zone is discovered to be the home to an unusual array of megafauna beasts. Adventurers could stumble onto this on their own, or they could be hired by an heir of House Vadalis who wants to investigate the rumors without drawing the attention of rivals in the house. Perhaps the adventurers find a legendary megafauna ape—which, if captured, might break free while on exhibition and climb the towers of Sharn!
At War with Nature. An Ashbound druid manages to establish a new Lamannian manifest zone in a major city, such as Fairhaven or Sharn. It's causing the city to crumble, releasing elementals and dense vegetation as the wilderness takes over. Can the adventurers find a way to remove the manifest zone?
Mabar: The Endless Night
p177
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
A sea of liquid shadows laps against black sands and basalt cliffs. A skull lies half-buried in the sand, empty sockets gazing into the roiling mist. The bone isn't sun-bleached, for there is no sun here—only a faint glimmer from the smoky gray moon that hangs in the sky.

Early scholars studying reports of Mabar concluded that it was the Plane of Darkness—that this physical property is its defining concept. However, the plane's eternal gloom is just a symptom of its true nature. Even the brightest day eventually ends in darkness, and Mabar embodies this idea. It's the shadow that surrounds every island of light, patiently waiting to consume it. It's entropy, despair, and loss. This isn't the place where the souls of the living go after death, but rather, it's the plane of death itself—the hunger that consumes both light and life.

Mabar is the source of negative energy, and the origin of most undead. Manifest zones—and most undead—tied to Mabar consume the life force from the world around them. However, some people maintain that negative energy itself is just a tool, and that the power of Mabar can be harnessed for good.

Universal Properties
The Endless Night consumes life and light. It's a wellspring of necrotic energy, where light is swallowed by gloom, and unprotected creatures quickly die. Mabar has the following universal properties.

Necrotic Power. A creature has disadvantage on saving throws against necromancy spells. An undead creature has 2 extra hit points per Hit Die and advantage on saving throws against being turned or frightened.
Radiant Void. In order to cast a spell that deals radiant damage or restores hit points, a creature must succeed on a spellcasting ability check with a DC equal to 10 + the level of the spell. On a failed check, the spell is not cast and its spell slot is not expended, but the action is lost.
Eternal Shadows. There is no bright light in Mabar. Any object or effect that would usually create bright light only creates dim light.
The Hunger of Mabar. Mabar consumes the life force of living things. For every minute a living creature spends in Mabar, it takes 10d6 points of necrotic damage. If this damage reduces a creature to 0 hit points, it immediately dies and its body crumbles into ash. Natives of Mabar, creatures that have resistance or immunity to necrotic damage, and creatures under the effects of a death ward spell are immune to the effects of this property.
Standard Time. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.
The Consuming Darkness
The planes don't usually interact with one another. The armies of Shavarath endlessly battle each other; they don't lay siege to Xoriat. Each plane is an isolated, perfect vision of a particular concept. But the concept that defines Mabar is the hunger to consume all light and life, along with the inevitable downfall of all things. When the proper forces align, Mabar pulls fragments of other planes into the Endless Night; over time, these are drained of light and hope and transformed into new layers of Mabar.

Initially, these captured planar fragments become part of the Hinterlands and night falls in the region, but they don't yet have any of Mabar's universal properties. Over time, the fragment's properties from its previous plane are replaced by the properties of Mabar. Once the fragment acquires the last property in this process, the Hunger of Mabar, it's fully assimilated into the Endless Night as a new symbol of entropy and despair. Mortal inhabitants of the fragment are typically transformed into shadows or other forms of undead, while immortals might become yugoloths, or twisted into dark mockeries of their former selves. The conversion is slow and inevitable, and the Dark Powers of Mabar don't have to take any action—but regardless, most enjoy tormenting the fragments. Undead prey on the edges of fragments besieged by the Bone King, and yugoloth soldiers raid fragments claimed by the Empress of Shadows.

As an example of a converted fragment, consider the Drifting Citadel. This floating tower was once a library in Syrania. Now it drifts through an icy void, grand windows shattered and books fallen from their shelves. Shadows of sages clutch at books with insubstantial fingers, never able to turn a page. The angelic librarians have become tormented spirits who hunger for knowledge, draining the memories from any creature unfortunate enough to fall into their grasp.

At times, the great powers of other planes have tried to stop Mabar from capturing fragments of other planes—but to no avail. The darkness can't be stopped, as it's part of the machinery of reality—the Endless Night consumes and fragments are lost. Those pulled into the darkness can fight against it, but the ultimate outcome is inevitable. Were it not for Irian, Mabar would eventually consume everything. But as the Night consumes, the Dawn restores, and so balance is ultimately maintained.

The process of consumption is slow and ongoing, and there are always multiple fragments in the Hinterlands. It may take Mabar months, years, or even centuries to consume a fragment. As the properties are replaced, the landscape of the fragment changes to reflect it. In a former fragment of Lamannia, the vegetation around the borders begins to wilt. Creatures become sickly, and totems may not be seen at all, or they might be terrifying shadows, killing the grass they walk on.

Mabar typically targets other planes, but it can claim pieces of the Material Plane as well. This initial effect is reminiscent of the Mourning; gray fog rolls over the region that's affected, and all that's caught within the fog is lost. However, Mabar typically claims a region the size of a town, or perhaps a county; it's never been known to claim an entire country. Typically the fog fades within a day, leaving a barren region stripped of vegetation and structures. Mabar's power is such that it also consumes the memories of the place; most mortals simply forget that the affected region ever was anything but barren, and forget the people consumed in the process. This process isn't perfect or absolute, but when contradictory information is presented, people instinctively try to rationalize it. Maybe they heard a story about the lost town? The uncle who lived in that town? Didn't he die in the war? In short, player characters might realize something is wrong, but be unable to convince others of it. Because of this magical effect and the fact that it happens so rarely, the common people of Khorvaire don't know about this aspect of Mabar. But if a group of strong-willed player characters investigates it, they might be able to discover the cause of lost colonies and other mysteries.

Denizens
p178
From shadows of mortal souls to Mabar's Dark Powers, the Endless Night's inhabitants all embody aspects of darkness, despair, and death. The plane's denizens fall into these five general categories.

Shadows
Shadows are the most numerous inhabitants of Mabar. These semi-sentient spirits linger in places where you might expect to find people, forlornly pantomiming the roles of the absent inhabitants. You'll find the shadows of children playing on the corner of a Mabaran street, and the shadow of a priest silently praying to an absent and unknown god in a shattered temple. In his Planar Codex, Dorius Alyre ir'Korran asserts that every mortal has a shadow in Mabar, much like the conscripts of Shavarath; this theory is supported by the shadow-gardeners of the Amaranthine City. However, the shadows of Mabar don't speak, and they're driven by impulse and instinct; if they're tied to living creatures, they're just a dark sliver of each soul. The shadows hunger for the lifeforce of mortals, but they ignore creatures that have resistance or immunity to necrotic damage or that are shielded by the death ward spell.

Most Mabaran shadows use the statistics for shadows from the Monster Manual, though especially strong shadows could be represented by wraiths or specters.

Yugoloths and Other Immortals
The immortals of Mabar are spirits of darkness. The yugoloths—embodiments of hunger, despair, and death—are the citizens of a vast empire centered on the Amaranthine City, most serving as soldiers. In the Hinterlands, yugoloths battle celestials and fiends trapped in these doomed fragments, until the fragments are ultimately fully drained, assimilated, and their immortal inhabitants converted to a form more suited to the Endless Night. It's questionable if these battles actually speed up the assimilation, or if they're simply a way for the yugoloths to pass the time. If there are no immortals to battle, the yugoloths simply spread despair; an oinoloth may spread plague through a fragment of the Material Plane, then spend a year watching the result.

Some yugoloths are gardeners, but what they cultivate are shadows. By shaping a mortal's shadow, a fiend can fill that mortal with despair or drive them down dark paths. When the associated mortal eventually dies, the yugoloth can refine that shadow into quintessence; this substance is crafted by yugoloth artists and artisans into tools and weapons that can cause death and despair, should they make their way to the mortal world. While most gardeners work with shadows, some go into the fragments of the Hinterlands to directly torment the hostages in slow and subtle ways. Other yugoloths are philosophers and oracles who contemplate the nature of entropy and the way in which all things will end. And some serve menial roles in the Amaranthine City.

The yugoloths make up the majority of the immortals of Mabar, but there are others. Mabaran incubi and succubi embody emotional pain and loss. Some prey on hostages in fragments, while others live alongside the yugoloths and ply their wiles on them; the suffering of a fiend is just as satisfying to them as that of a mortal. Other incubi and succubi are gardeners, and some believe that these can drain the love from a mortal heart by bleeding it from their shadow. There are also immortals from other fragments that have been transformed—angels and devils reshaped by the Endless Night.

Undead
Mabar is the origin of most undead. Sentient undead are created when a dying creature's soul is bound to Mabar instead of passing to Dolurrh. The energy of Mabar sustains the creature—be it wraith, mummy, or vampire—while the creature serves as a conduit to the Endless Night. This is why many undead directly consume the life force of other creatures. Even those who don't do so directly may drain life from the world simply by existing; this is why plants are often withered in areas frequented by the undead. Likewise, this connection to Mabar has a corrupting effect that pulls most intelligent undead toward evil alignments. Even people who were good in life find that Mabar erodes their empathy and compassion; it's a struggle to maintain your humanity when your existence is bound to the Endless Night.

There are also many undead in Mabar itself. Many of these are merely symbolic manifestations of Mabar, not actually the remains of mortal beings; the endless skeletal armies of the Bone King are manifestations and the Bone King himself was likely never mortal. Specters and wraiths are especially powerful shadows; some are the work of gardeners, while others emerge from the pure darkness of Mabar. The more desolate planes, like the Obsidian Desert, are ruled by nightwalkers, powerful conduits of negative energy; they often attack fragments, feeding on the energy of the fragment and accelerating its assimilation.

Beyond this, the souls of sentient undead are bound to Mabar. When a vampire, mummy, lich, or similar creature is physically destroyed, it doesn't get the release of Dolurrh; instead, the soul becomes a wraith in Mabar, forever driven by the hunger of the Endless Night. Most are driven mad by this process, but perhaps the adventurers might once again encounter a vampire they previously killed, now a spectral lord in the Endless Night.

The Dark Powers
The mightiest and most malevolent beings in Mabar are known as the Dark Powers. Each embodies a particular aspect of Mabar and rules a domain of linked layers. Some have been part of Mabar since the beginning of time, while others have risen from the fragments consumed by the Endless Night. Most of the Dark Powers are equivalent in power to archfey or archfiends, though they're even stronger in the layer they're bound to, their seat of power. However, they have a limited ability to act beyond Mabar, and can only affect the Material Plane through warlocks or undead servants. Three of the Dark Powers that are known on Eberron are described later in this section, but there are many more in the shadows.

Hostages
he fragments in the Hinterlands hold all the creatures that dwelled in each before they were captured. When a mortal dies there, they return as a shadow or undead. Immortals are bound to their fragment; they can't leave it, and if they die, they're reborn there. So creatures from any plane could be found here, including the Material Plane. A chunk of Risia might hold frost giants. A fragment of the Endless Ocean might have a pod of merfolk. But the longer they remain in Mabar, the more the plane corrupts the fragment and the creatures in it, until they become shadows, undead, or something worse. A mortal creature that lives through this process may have all the light drained from its soul or be consumed by despair. While it might retain its original appearance, it should be considered an aberration; in the end, it will seek to spread misery and extinguish both light and life.

Layers
p179
It's always night in Mabar, and its shadowy moon, Sypheros, remains fixed in the sky. While the setting varies across its countless layers—a desert, a ruined city, the withered remains of fertile farmland—the story is always about loss, entropy, despair, and death. A layer might contain a massive battlefield filled with the intertwined bones of dragons and giants. Ossuaries and catacombs. Crumbling memorials, with names too faded to read. Barren orchards and dried riverbeds. And tombs, from tiny unmarked crypts to the death-palaces of fallen rulers, necropolises filled with traps and treasures. And this being the Endless Night, some of those dead rulers still dominate their domains, whether they take the form of undead or simply malevolent will.

Layers are linked in domains, and each one is bound to one of the Dark Powers. The denizens of the layers and the overall themes reflect the influence of that Dark Power, so layers in the Kingdom of Bones are largely inhabited by undead, while yugoloths dwell in layers bound to the Amaranthine City. Some layers are bounded by physical barriers, but most either loop back on themselves or end in walls of fog—not unlike the dead-gray mists of the Mournland—and any who wander into the mists reemerge elsewhere in the layer. Within domains, layers are often connected by physical portals—perhaps a massive gate or a pool of shadows. Moving between domains requires plane shift or performing a ritual tied to that domain. These rituals need not be magical; they're simply secrets that have to be learned. If you're in the Kingdom of Bones and you want to get to the domain of the Queen of All Tears, the answer is simple: All you have to do is sincerely cry, and your tears will take you there.

Here are three examples of Mabar's domains, each of which could hold many layers..

The Amaranthine City
The Amaranthine City is widely seen as the heart of Mabar. Experienced planar travelers may find it familiar, for it's a dark reflection of the Amaranthine City of Irian. Irian shows the city in its first days of glory: prosperous, clean, full of joy and life. The Amaranthine City of Mabar is a haunted shadow of this glory. Like its counterpart, this immense metropolis fills an entire layer, but here, its banners are faded and torn, walls are cracked, and fountains are dry. Shadows still move through the streets, a miserable reminder of the crowds that once filled the city. The rotting tapestries and chipped mosaics speak of a past age of wonders and glory. The two are unmistakably the same city, both in architectural style and the layout of its streets. This feels like the last days of a grand empire, an image of decaying grandeur; but there's great power beneath the tragic façade. The walls may be cracked, but they are still mighty, and the mezzoloth's rusty trident can kill you as easily as a polished one.

The city's ruler, the Empress of Shadows, is the first and greatest of the Dark Powers. Her defining principle is hunger, the desire to consume all that is light, to expand her empire across eternity. She prefers an elegant fiendish form, with polished horns and chitin plates engraved with arcane sigils, but she can take the shape of any yugoloth. She spends much of her time presiding over the decaying pomp and grandeur of the Amaranthine City, but also closely monitors the campaigns in the Hinterlands and occasionally takes time to torment her hostages. The sages of Syrania believe that the Empress of Shadows chooses which fragments of other planes will be pulled into Mabar, and planar emissaries sometimes dwell in the Amaranthine City seeking to negotiate with her.

This city is the seat of the yugoloths; for every yugoloth in the Amaranthine City of Mabar, there is an angel in the city in Irian, all the way up to the Dawn Empress and the Empress of Shadows. Most likely, this is just a way of reflecting the planes' core concepts—beginnings and endings, hope and despair. But it's possible that Irian and Mabar are somehow the same—perhaps the Dawn Empress is the Empress of Shadows, and though they appear to exist at the same time, they reflect the beginning and end of the same spirit.

The layers tied to the Amaranthine City reflect its theme of imperial ambition and decaying power. Some embody desperation—a collapsing fortress awaiting an assault that will surely destroy it, or an abandoned sanitarium whose inmates are trapped and starving. These regions are inhabited by shadows, but the fiendish gardeners can instill near-sentience into them if it serves their purposes. Fragments claimed by the Empress of Shadows are drawn into her empire, and usually acquire a yugoloth outpost even as the life is drained from the region.

Artist: Vincentius Matthew
Artist: Vincentius Matthew
The Kingdom of Bones
p180
Where the domain of the Amaranthine City feels like an empire in its last days, the Kingdom of Bones is one that's already fallen. If a layer contains a fortress, it's not preparing for a final battle; it's what remained after the battle. The gates are shattered, and bloodstains and broken weapons are scattered across the floors. The people of this domain fought a dreadful war and lost... but this being Mabar, their bones remain. The skeletons of peasants continue their menial labors, seemingly oblivious to the futility of their actions. Even in death, these commoners are oppressed by their cruel lords. Wights, deathlocks, and vampire spawn might serve as the soldiers of the tyrants, while the overlords themselves may be vampires or mummy lords, still ruling from their ruined keeps.

All of the kingdom's cursed nobles bow before the Bone King, who embodies the concepts of death and decay. A lich in rotting finery, he stands as a warning that even the mightiest lords eventually become dust and bone. He prefers to drain the life slowly from fragments he claims; he wants his hostages to dwell on their coming death while their land withers around them, for lords to turn on their people before he finally kills them all.

The Bone King's statistics could be represented using Orcus as a foundation. He can serve as an Undying patron for warlocks, and is known to teach mortal wizards the foul rituals that allow ascension to lichdom. To all who serve him in this way, he grants titles in his kingdom—and the knowledge that when they die, they'll be forever bound to serve in it. He makes few demands of these servants; they feed him whenever they use the powers he grants to slay the living. But a warlock may be tasked to destroy a lich or vampire—or even another warlock—because the Bone King desires them to serve in his kingdom.

The Last Desert
A desert of black sand under a starless sky—this is one of Mabar's iconic images. In the Last Desert, there are remnants of glorious monuments: the half-buried head of a grand statue, its eye cracked; a fragment of a memorial wall, engraved with names that can no longer be read; ruins so worn that it's impossible to guess what purpose the building once served. Characters proficient in History and Arcana can recognize that these monuments are drawn from dramatically different cultures; some are the work of celestials, while others might have been created by the giants of Xen'drik.

At the center lies a massive tomb-palace. Its style suggests the architecture of Aerenal, but it's grander than even the City of the Dead. This is the fortress of the Queen of All Tears, the Dark Power of this domain. The Queen is an embodiment of misery, and her subjects are largely incorporeal undead, shadows and wraiths from the barren sand. Meanwhile, cruel specters and banshees attend the Queen, along with succubi and incubi who bask in the delicious misery that suffuses the region. The Queen herself takes the form of a mummified corpse, enshrouded by a spectral image of a beautiful elf woman. The suffering of others is her mead, and her only pleasure is the slow torment of the hostages in her Hinterland fragments.

The Queen of All Tears is one of the youngest of the Dark Powers. She was once a mortal who dreamed of mastering life and death, but her pursuit of these goals resulted in the deaths of everyone she ever loved and everyone who shared her blood. Her kingdom was razed, and she killed her own daughter and transformed her into a lich, so at least one piece of her legacy might survive. Her name was Minara Vol, and she was the mother of Erandis Vol. In the process of becoming a Dark Power, she's lost much of her own identity and sense of her past. She despises both elves and dragons, but has forgotten even her own daughter. If the Queen were to somehow regain her memories, she might seek to strike at the Undying Court and Argonnessen, or to aid Erandis—or it may be that she continues to dwell in her despair and ignore her past.

The Queen's layers are largely desolate and miserable, filled with wailing wraiths and banshees. One is a battlefield plucked from Aerenal, where the bones of elves and dragons lie intertwined; this may hold the key to discovering her past.

The Hinterlands
The Hinterlands are the outer edge of Mabar, the collection of planar fragments that are currently being consumed and integrated into the Endless Night. Here, the Hunger of Mabar property has not yet taken hold, which generally makes them safer to visit than other layers of Mabar. The Mabaran properties a fragment reflects vary depending on its nature and how close it is to complete integration with Mabar.

There can be infinite variety in the fragments within the Hinterlands. This largely depends on what plane a fragment is from. Is it a verdant forest of Lamannia? A floating tower of Syrania? Or is it a piece of the Material Plane—a fortress plucked out of the Last War or a Riedran village? The second question is how long the fragment has been under siege. To what degree does it retain its original flavor, and how much has the influence of Mabar oventaken it? The final question is which of the Dark Powers has claimed it—and why? What is it about this region that draws it towards a Dark Power's domain? The Empress of Shadows looks for places that shine too brightly—places that bask in their achievements, sure their glory will never fade. The Bone King claims fragments where commoners suffer or where rulers turn to tyranny; there are a few Karrnathi fragments in his domain, though it can be hard to tell how close they are to being subsumed. The Queen of All Tears seeks the places where terrible tragedies have occurred, forcing the inhabitants to forever dwell in these moments of misery. With fragments of the outer planes, it's more a question of reshaping the plance to fit these stories. By contrast, when it comes to the Material Plane, it's the story itself that often draws the dire hand of Mabar.

Artist: Marin Jurii
Artist: Marin Jurii
Planar Manifestations
p181
Here are a few ways Mabar can influence the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Mabaran manifest zones are infamous and almost universally shunned, for nearly all are harmful to the flora and fauna of the region. In some zones, life withers and dies. In others, it's twisted in strange ways; plants may seek the blood of living creatures, or grow unnaturally pale and cold. Rot and decay are often accelerated, and disease can thrive. However, such regions are also often powerful sources of negative energy. Mabaran zones often possess the Necrotic Power universal property, and there are epic rituals and eldritch machines that require a Mabaran manifest zone. The Odakyr Rites that create Karrnathi undead are an example of this, and the Karrnathi city of Atur is built on a Mabaran zone. This often has a curious synergy: if the negative energy of a Mabaran manifest zone is regularly channeled into rituals or spells, it prevents that energy from spreading disease or killing vegetation. In his War and Death: A History of Karrnathi Necromancy, Jolan Hass Holan asserts that the plagues and famines Karrnath suffered early in the war were due to the Seekers who normally tended those zones being pushed out of them due to strategic concerns—which, in turn, forced Karrnath to embrace necromancy to counter the effects of those famines.

While Mabaran manifest zones rarely serve as gateways to the plane, they are powerful sources of negative energy and produce undead. Skeletons, zombies, and ghouls can all spontaneously rise in Mabaran manifest zones, and more powerful undead can be created under the proper circumstances.

Coterminous and Remote
On nights when Mabar is coterminous, the Necrotic Power property encompasses the entire world, and the radius of all light sources are halved. During these periods, regions of deepest darkness can serve as gateways to Mabar, releasing shadows or other foul things into the world. This primarily occurs in regions that are suffused with despair or misery, and only at night, ending as soon as dawn breaks. As a result, during coterminous periods, friends and family usually huddle together indoors, keeping the lights burning and telling cheerful tales.

When Mabar is remote, all creatures have resistance to necrotic damage, and undead have disadvantage on saving throws against being turned or frightened.

Traditionally, Mabar is coterminous for three nights in the month of Vult—the nights of the new moon closest to the winter solstice. The people of the Five Nations call this time Long Shadows. Mabar is remote less frequently, for a period of five days around the summer solstice, but only once every five years.

Mabaran Artifacts
Mabaran artifacts are formed from quintessence, the solidified energy of Mabaran shadows. This matte black substance can be used in a similar way to wood, metal, or cloth. Quintessence items are powerful conduits for necromancy and necrotic energy; a staff of withering, sword of wounding, or sword of life stealing might be made from Mabaran quintessence. Items that create undead or consume light might also be crafted from quintessence; such items drain joy and empathy from those that carry them, and those who wield such items often become cold and cruel. Yugoloth artisans can create unique items with even greater powers, but the purpose of these tools is to spread despair and misery. Some drain Hit Dice from their wielders to pay for their deadly abilities; others cause the bearer to rise as an undead creature after death.

The most powerful Mabaran artifacts are battleloths—yugoloths that have allowed themselves to be forged into objects to spread death and despair. These are intelligent and powerful, but drive their wielders down dark paths.

When plants do grow in Mabaran manifest zones, they're often poisonous; bloodvine can produce a variety of deadly venoms. However, the elves of the Bloodsail Principality have mastered the art of gardening in Mabaran zones, and there, you can find wondrous plants that feed on shadows instead of sunlight—darkwood trees, ebon sedge grass, and more. Here, they produce spices and wines unlike any others in the world.

Mabaran Stories
Mabar inspires cruelty and despair. Its necrotic energies can be a general environmental threat or harnessed as a weapon by warlocks or necromancers. Here are some stories you might explore about this plane.

Fragmented Mourning. It's unlikely that the Mourning was caused by Mabar. The effect is much larger than any fragment, the lingering strangeness doesn't resemble Mabar, and people know it's been destroyed, unlike with most fragments. However, it's entirely possible that part of Cyre could have been claimed by Mabar as the Mourning unfolded—perhaps Metrol still exists in the Hinterlands of Mabar! If so, is there any chance it could be saved? Is Queen Dannel alive? Or could she have somehow been responsible, sacrificing her own people to become one of the Dark Powers herself?
Shadow on the Moor. While passing across a moor, the adventurers are set upon by the shadows of wolves and hawks. The following dawn, they discover that one of the characters is missing their shadow; it's been lost in the manifest zone. Do they need to go back and find it? If so, how? If not, what does it mean that this character no longer has a shadow?
The Master of Shadholt. A cruel warlock holds a small village in his grip. When the adventurers defeat the villain, they make an unpleasant discovery: the village of Shadholt is in a Mabaran manifest zone, and while the warlock was a villain, his rituals also prevented the zone from spreading plagues throughout the entire region. Can the adventurers help one of the villagers take the warlock's place, forging the pact and gaining the powers needed to contain the threat? What Dark Power must they deal with?
The Drifting Citadel. The adventurers are contacted by Itheriel, a scholar-angel of Syrania. The celestial seeks to recover a tome of knowledge from a library tower that was consumed by Mabar. If Itheriel goes to Mabar, they'll be trapped there for eternity; they need the adventurers to recover the book. What isn't Itheriel telling them about the book? Could this celestial relic have become the Book of Vile Darkness? What else can be found in the drifting tower?
Risia: The Plane of Ice
p182
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Risia is known as the Plain of Ice, for that's the vast majority of what's found within it. Risia is defined by endless arctic wastes, and what appear to be mountains are just peaks of solid ice. But like Fernia, Risia's appearance can be deceiving. Because it's filled with glaciers and snow, many sages assume that this is its defining principle. But in Lamannia, there are also endless blizzards and majestic glaciers—ice in its natural state. By comparison, the core ideas that define Risia are isolation, stagnation, and preservation. The endless frozen plane isn't about snow, it's about the utter stillness, the empty and unchanging landscape. Risia is sparsely populated, because that's the point of it; it's bleak and lonely, a realm in which you could walk for days and never see another creature. Where a desert of sand can at least shift in the breeze, the frozen landscape of Risia is unchanging. Yet, unlike a stone plateau, it reflects a substance that could change at one point—but is now caught, frozen, stagnant.

Though this isolated and unchanging plane might not seem appealing to adventurers, it's important to remember that the plane represents preservation—and ancient secrets forgotten for ages could be frozen within the ice. And while the realm itself is barren, it's not completely deserted; over millennia, hardy creatures have come to Risia and settled in this desolate realm.

Universal Properties
Risia is bitterly cold, and unprotected creatures quickly succumb to the deadly temperatures. Here are a few of the consistent properties of the plane.

Lethal Cold. A creature exposed to the cold of Risia must succeed on a DC 10 Constitution saving throw every 10 minutes or gain one level of exhaustion. A creature with resistance or immunity to cold damage automatically succeeds on this saving throw, as does a creature naturally adapted to cold climates or one wearing appropriate protective gear. In addition, all creatures have resistance to fire damage, and a creature that's usually resistant to fire damage becomes immune to it.
Empowered Ice. When a creature casts a spell of 1st level or higher, if it deals cold damage, it does so as if cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended.
Preservation. A creature with 0 hit points becomes stable at the end of its turn, entering a state of suspended animation. If an unconscious creature remains in contact with the ground for more than 1 minute, it's drawn below the surface and encased in an ice-encrusted stasis. While encased in this way, time ceases to flow for the creature and it doesn't grow older.
Stagnation. When a creature finishes a long rest, it doesn't regain hit points or reduce its exhaustion level. However, it does recover Hit Dice normally and can spend them to regain hit points.
Stillness of Flesh. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers. However, the passage of time has no effect on a mortal creature's body, and creatures don't age or grow while in Risia. Exhaustion, starvation, and disease merely reduce a creature to 0 hit points, and don't immediately kill it. Dwarves are immune to this property's effects, and in Risia they can grow, age, and die, just as they would on the Material Plane.
Denizens
Risia's few natives are rarely seen. The concept of the plane is bleak isolation, and an active population would defeat this purpose. A few layers hold creatures that have crossed into Risia from Eberron, ones that can thrive in arctic conditions; there are remorhazes hunting in the Frozen Sea and yetis in the Frostmantle. But these things come and go. The two primary forces in Risia are the native spirits of the plane and the frost giants that have carved out a home in the ice.

Spirits of Ice
At first glance, Risia appears to be barren and empty. But some travelers have described a presence, a sense of being watched, and most feel this presence is malign. On the surface, the concept of Risia seems entirely neutral; there's nothing inherently evil about ice. But there's a hunger to Risia—an innate desire to consume warmth and to bury living things in ice. In the Planar Codex, Dorius Alyre ir'Korran calls this force the Killing Cold. This greatest power of the plane of isolation is uninterested in being known, and has never interacted directly with outsiders, but its presence can be felt through its manifestations. These include bheur hags, frost salamanders, ice devils, chain devils, and the Lonely (sorrowsworn). The appearance and nature of manifestations reflect the themes of Risia—a chain devil might be shrouded by frost-mist and can bind its enemies with chains of ice. Regardless of their form, these spirits don't speak with outsiders. Their intelligence reflects the cunning with which they stalk their prey, but they are spirits of the Killing Cold, of bitter isolation, and of the ice that entombs and preserves.

When these manifestations aren't active, they're absorbed into their layer; they manifest when they're needed, in the form that's needed. And in the meantime, as spirits of stagnation and isolation, they're perfectly content to sit in silence for centuries before something compels them back into physical form.

Frost Giants and Dwarves
The Group of Eleven was an alliance of empyreans of tremendous skill and power. Each studied a different plane (leaving Fernia to the Sulat League and Dal Quor to the Cul'sir). The archarcanist Il'Ara was devoted to Risia, and she magebred her own lineage of frost giants over millennia. When the forces of Argonnessen began to lay waste to Xen'drik, Il'Ara gathered her faithful children and passed through to Risia, certain that they could find sanctuary in the isolation of the Plain of Ice.

Il'Ara's children have since established themselves across the layers of Risia. There are a few citadels where multiple giants live together, while others have established their own solitary outposts. Each has found a different path to surviving the endless tedium of immortality in the icy wastes. Some have become artists, writing poetry or sculpting massive works of art that take centuries to complete. Others pursue physical diversions such as wrestling, hunting fiends, or crafting ornate games. These denizens always take great interest in outsiders as a source of diversion. The crueler giants take joy in hunting newcomers, but others can be excellent hosts. Many artists yearn for an audience—though a genteel giant artist can be deadly if guests don't show proper appreciation for their work. As these Risian frost giants are remnants of the grand civilization of Xen'drik, the DM may wish to increase their intelligence and abilities as suits the story.

Il'Ara continues her arcane studies in her fortress, Winter. She may have found ways to wield vast power over Risia and to protect her children from the fiends... or she could be bored of her immortal existence, considering entering the ice and embracing stasis.

The frost giants of Risia have dwarf servants. Their origin is a mystery: the giants know that Il'Ara produced these first dwarves, but they don't know—or at least remember—if she created them herself or pulled them through from Eberron. These dwarves know no other existence than their servitude to their giant masters, and Risia holds few other options for them. Mysteriously, these dwarves—and all dwarves—are immune to the Stillness of Fleshproperty of Risia. They age just as they would on Eberron, and unlike other mortals on this plane, they can give birth to children who grow and mature. So every giant in Risia came from Xen'drik, and as they die, no new giants replace them; but the dwarves that dwell in Risia were born there, and know nothing of the ancient past.

Layers
p183
The layers of Risia are few in number but vast in size, connected by great archways of ice. Sometimes, travelers find pools of ice that show images from other layers; breaking through this ice sometimes allows passage, while other times, the images are simply lost. While depictions of Risia often show it with terrifying storms, these are only found in the Boundless Blizzard; most of Risia is utterly still, silent, and deadly. Risia's spirit manifestations can be found in all of these layers. The giants are concentrated in Frostmantle, but outliers can be found in other layers.

The most noteworthy layers are discussed below, but others exist as well. One is a vast, featureless glacier, which may be the inspiration for the title "The Plain of Ice." A small layer holds immense ice sculptures of unknown humanoids; this could be a reflection of primal beings, or perhaps the work of a frost giant artisan who's been sculpting for thousands of years. Another plane contains a series of rivers flowing over an icy plain, but they aren't natural water; the liquid is so cold it shatters any mundane material placed within it.

Frostmantle
This seemingly endless range of mountains, formed of solid ice, is surrounded by a sea of dense mist. Perhaps land lies somewhere far below, or the mountains might continue down indefinitely into the darkness. Frostmantle is the primary home of the frost giants of Il'Ara, who have carved citadels from the ice of the mountains. The three largest fortresses are called Freehearth, Remorse, and Winter. Remorse holds many giants who have chosen to enter icy stasis out of eternal boredom, while Winter is the abode of Il'Ara herself. Numerous smaller keeps are spread across the peaks, the abodes of individual giants.

Clouds hide the sky above Frostmantle, but the light is steady and unchanging; night never falls here. Travelers must deal with the effects of high altitude as well as the lethal cold

Artist: Lucas Bonatto Gerrini
Artist: Lucas Bonatto Gerrini
The Boundless Blizzard
p184
Chill winds howl as snow and hail fill the air. Explorers may find themselves on an icy plateau or in a mountain pass; with the vicious storm, visibility is limited to 60 feet, so there's no knowing what lies ahead. Adventurers may find an occasional cave or other shelter, but it's always possible that it's already occupied by a remorhaz or other stranded monstrosity. As this is one of the more dangerous layers, this is a good place to search for the frozen bodies of other adventurers, held in stasis beneath the ice.

The raging storm of the Boundless Blizzard never ends, and adventurers face high winds and lethal cold. The layer is permanently caught between night and day; due to the storm, the light is dim at best, and areas of intense snow may be heavily obscured.

The Frozen Sea
magine an ocean frozen in a single instant. There's no sign of any shore, just waves caught mid-crest alongside the frozen funnels of maelstroms. And scattered across the realm, there are countless ships—vessels pulled from the oceans of Eberron in moments when the moons were right and Risia was coterminous. Some are shattered or wrecked, caught halfway through the process of sinking. Others are in perfect condition, frozen under the thinnest layer of ice. Ships from throughout history can be found here, Lyrandar elemental galleons alongside massive ships built by the ancient giants of Xen'drik. There could be age-old survivors here, sheltering in their trapped vessels, or a frost giant might have raised a tower of ice above the frozen water. But the spirits are strong here as well, preying on survivors and pulling them down into the frozen depths.

It's always night on the Frozen Sea; the moon Dravago is fixed in the cloudless sky, shedding dim light on the water.

Planar Manifestations
Here are a few of the ways Risia can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones to Risia are often found in cold or arctic regions, where their impact isn't immediately obvious. In warmer climes, most manifest zones tied to Risia create regions of unnatural cold, often taking on the plane's Lethal Cold and Empowered Ice properties of the plane, regardless of the regional climate.

In a few Risian zones, the effects of Stillness of Flesh can be felt, slowing or completely stopping the aging, growth, and reproduction of all creatures—except for dwarves, that is. While a manifest zone that prevents aging could be otherwise considered quite a boon, these zones can be quite small, and often tied to deadly cold that makes it difficult to live there.

It's unusual for a Risian zone to transport people to Risia, but it can happen when the planes are coterminous.

Coterminous and Remote
While Risia is coterminous, temperatures drop sharply, and areas that would normally be chilly but otherwise safe can take on the Lethal Cold, Empowered Ice, and Stillness of Flesh universal properties. During these times, on rare occasions, creatures caught in an area of exceptionally intense cold can be unexpectedly transported to Risia. However, this effect is unpredictable; while it can happen if it serves the story, it's not something most people are afraid of.

When Risia is remote, intense cold loses some of its bite. Creatures have advantage on saving throws made against the effects of extreme cold and on saving throws against spells that deal cold damage.

Traditionally, Risia becomes coterminous once every five years for the full month of Zarantyr. Once every five years, exactly two and a half years after it is coterminous, it's remote during the month of Lharvion. However, this isn't always the case. Historians have recorded times when the cycle has extended far longer; in 657 YK, Risia entered a coterminous phase that lasted for three years.

Risian Artifacts
Risian ice is vivid blue and charged with the essence of the plane. This ice maintains its temperature under any conditions and never melts, even on the Material Plane. An object carved from Risian ice can be used as a spellcasting focus for spells related to ice or water, and it's a powerful component for creating magical effects related to cold or stasis. While it can develop in both manifest zones and on the plane itself, Risian ice is relatively rare even within Risia; you can't just find giant sheets of it spread across Frostmantle.

The frost giants possess magic items and artifacts that they brought with them from Xen'drik, and Il'Ara has surely created new wonders over the years. Adventurers could also find treasures from any civilization there, either buried in the Frozen Sea or still clutched in the hands of people entombed within the ice.

Risian Stories
Risia is barren, isolated, and unwelcoming; it's not a place that wants adventurers. Nonetheless, there are many ways it could affect a story.

Frozen History. Il'Ara and her giants possess wondrous relics whose like haven't been seen in Eberron since the Age of Giants. They're a living link to the elven uprising; a giant might have personally fought a Tairnadal elf's ancestor, and it could possess a trophy taken from them. If the adventurers need information or an object from the Age of Giants, they might find it here. The adventurers could seek a ritual found only in Il'Ara's colossal spellbook, or perhaps the empyrean has kept a collection of prisoners from the Age of Giants preserved in Risian ice; this could be a way to meet a Qabalrin elf or one of the first drow!
Buried Treasures. In searching for a vital artifact, the adventurers might learn it's on a ship trapped in the Frozen Sea. The trail of a lost explorer could lead to the Boundless Blizzard. While adventurers could recover valuable treasures from the ice, it's also possible to recover people from it. A legendary hero—or infamous villain—could have been trapped in Risia for centuries. What would happen if adventurers discovered the pirate queen Lhazaar in an icy stasis on her ship in the Frozen Sea?
Dwarves. What's the origin of the dwarves of Risia? Did the empyrean Il'Ara truly create the dwarves, or did she steal them from the Frostfell? Could dwarf adventurers free their distant cousins from the domination of the giants?
The Killing Cold. What is the sinister presence that drives the spirits of ice? No mortal has ever interacted directly with the Killing Cold. When the adventurers are caught in the Boundless Blizzard, they are stalked by deadly manifestations of the Cold. Can they find some way to communicate with these spirits—or the power that drives them?
Shavarath: The Eternal Battleground
p185
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
In Shavarath, angels and devils are locked in endless conflict. Radiant blades spill burning blood, and bolts of force smash angels from the sky. In another layer, champions of justice ride armored dragons, assaulting a titanic airship. In yet another, steel krakens tear apart celestial frigates. There's only one constant in Shavarath: war.

The war in Shavarath began at the moment of creation, and it will continue to the end of time. Its primary combatants are immortal, and fallen soldiers return within a day or so. The forces are so evenly matched that a decisive victory is impossible. To outsiders, this war seems pointless. Over the last four hundred years of conflict in Nullius Terram, the Legion of Justice has advanced its front line by perhaps 20 feet. Mortals may look at this and ask, "Why continue to fight? Why not just leave the struggle and do something—anything—else?" In particular, it's common for mortals to see the vast resources the celestials devote to the war and protest, "Why don't you help us? You claim to be the Legion of Justice, but innocent people are dying in Thaliost while you fight this meaningless war!"

The angel isn't fighting for a single nation, and this war isn't driven by gold or politics. The immortals of Shavarathbelieve that their war is reflected across every reality. Justice. Tyranny. Cruelty. The war in Shavarath is a visible symbol of the balance of power between these forces, and when it shifts in Shavarath, the immortals believe it shifts everywhere. Fallen devils will be reborn. New airships will replace those destroyed. But every tiny victory—every demon defeated, every foot advanced in Nullius Terram—strengthens the forces of justice everywhere. Each angel knows they will never win a truly decisive victory, but as long as they fight, they can at least hold the line.

So to an angel, the destruction of a human city—or an entire nation—is trivial. Mortals will die; that's their most defining trait. Even a sympathetic angel sees a mortal as a snowflake: unique, beautiful, but gone in a moment (and sooner if you touch it). The angels fought long before today's mortal civilizations existed, and if they hadn't held this line for countless eons, the Material Plane would be overrun by chaos and cruelty.

If you're a hero, you might look to the angel and say, "What can I do to help? Can we fight at your side?" To which the angel simply smiles and responds, "You already are." Just as every mortal dreams in Dal Quor and has a shadow in Mabar, there's a sliver of every mortal soul that fights in Shavarath. The skill and power of these conscripts reflect your own courage and will... and just like the angels, this sliver of yours can survive a thousand deaths. So it's not your place to fight on the battlefields of Shavarath. You do your part by living your life, by fighting for the principles you believe in wherever you may be.

There is war in Shavarath, and there will always be war in Shavarath. It can't be won, and it can't be abandoned. As a mortal in Shavarath, your primary goal should always be to survive—because in Shavarath, there are a million ways to die.

Universal Properties
There's a part of you that's always been in Shavarath, a sliver of your soul that's always been at war. When you're in Shavarath, those instincts guide you. It's easier to strike a deadly blow, or to grit your teeth and fight on through pain or injury.

War Magic. When a creature casts a spell that grants a bonus to AC, attack rolls, or saving throws, or a spell that grants temporary hit points, the duration is doubled. Spells with a duration of 24 hours or more are unaffected.
Unquenchable Fury. A creature has advantage on saving throws against any spells or abilities that charm a target, as well as against the calm emotions and sanctuary spells. In addition, the duration of these effects are halved, to a minimum duration of 1 round. While a barbarian is raging, its rage can't be ended early unless it's knocked unconscious.
Fight On. On a creature's turn, it can use a bonus action to spend 1 Hit Die. It rolls the die and adds its Constitution modifier, regaining hit points equal to the total (minimum of 1). Once a creature benefits from this property, it must finish a short or long rest before it can do so again.
Bloodletting. When a creature scores a critical hit with an attack that deals piercing, slashing, or bludgeoning damage, it can roll one of the attack's damage dice one extra time and add it to the extra dice of the critical hit.
Flexible Time. Time's passage varies between Shavarath's layers. In many, time passes at the same rate as on the Material Plane; if you spend an hour fighting in the Burning Sky, an hour passes in Eberron. But other layers move at different speeds; you can spend a month in the trenches of Nullius Terram and find that less than three days have passed in Eberron. A creature with proficiency in Arcana can determine the passage of time in their layer by succeeding on a DC 14 Intelligence (Arcana) check.
Denizens
All creatures in Shavarath are part of the war, whether they're soldiers, tools, or victims. Those that fight are tied to legions, such as the Legion of Justice or the Legion of Tyranny. The immortals that fight in the war believe that each legion is governed by a higher power—simply called Command—and that these powers collectively shape the layers and determine the terms of battle. Immortals don't question Command or wonder why things are the way they are. Immortals never deal directly with the Command of their legion, and they don't even know if these powers have physical forms.

Vast legions are broken into smaller cohorts, which are in turn divided into centuries of one hundred immortals, each representing an aspect of war like pain, mercy, or despair. A few special centuries and individual immortals can move between layers, but the majority are bound to their cohort and their layer. Immortals can be reassigned to new cohorts, and promoted or demoted—usually tied to a physical transformation. This minimal movement between layers maintains balance, as cohort leaders must make use of the forces in their layer, while legion commanders can strategically direct the centuries that can move between layers—what layer is Justice pressing at the moment?

An offensive's primary goals often focus on destroying an important opponent. The Legion of Justice knows it can't drive Tyranny from Nullius Terram, but defeating Lord Commander Astaralax is an important victory for the light, even though he's an immortal and will eventually return. Sometimes an especially grand victory might cause an immortal to be "discharged"—when this happens, a new being of equivalent power takes its place, but it has a new personality, and the original spirit is eradicated. Such victories are worth even more points in the grand system that calculates the balance of power between the legions.

Artist: Benjamin Hubel
Artist: Benjamin Hubel
Conscripts
p186
In Nullius Terram, the trenches are filled with miserable soldiers waiting for the offensive. The City of Knives is filled with innocents struggling to survive and looters taking advantage of the chaos. There are dragons in the Burning Sky—but none of these are mortals. They're all manifestations, ideas conscripted to serve the purpose of the story. Conscripts appear to be sentient, but have no depth of personality or memory, can't leave their layers, and can't accomplish anything meaningful unless accompanied by a celestial or fiend. It's only when the angel leads a charge that the conscripts of Nullius Terram matter, and though they inevitably die, they eventually reform. Conscripts can use the statistics of the creatures they appear to be, but may not have their full capabilities; the dragons of the Burning Sky aren't as intelligent as true dragons. A conscript usually appears indistinct; it's hard to focus on them, and it's often easy for a viewer to imagine conscripts are members of their own species.

Sword Wraiths
All mortal creatures have a spiritual connection to Shavarath, and there's a sliver of their spirit in the plane. The strength of this sliver is determined by the mortal's courage, willpower, and martial drive. Conscripts are formed from this spiritual energy, but have no awareness and may be formed from multiple slivers; unlike Irian's embers, the conscript doesn't resemble the source.

Sometimes, on the death of a great mortal warrior, echoes of their personality and martial spirit can coalesce into a sword wraith (though its abilities may vary based on the champion it echoes). Unlike standard conscripts, sword wraiths are capable of meaningful action even without the direction of an immortal and can command conscripts of their own. A sword wraith has the appearance of its mortal source and some of the memories, but it's only an echo of the mortal, much like the traces of memory that allow you to speak with dead. Sword wraiths reconcile their memories with the war within the layer. If there's a sword wraith of Karrn the Conqueror commanding troops in Nullius Terram, he believes that he's fighting for Karrnath and can't be convinced otherwise; after all, he's only a memory, and there are limits to his ability to reason.

So adventurers might meet Lhazaar as she commands a ship in the Bloody Sea. Dhakaani champions, the Mror clan founders, heroes of the Last War—any of these could be found as sword wraiths, serving the legion that best matches their values. There are sword wraiths of many patron ancestors of the Tairnadal elves; however, these aren't the patrons themselves, simply echoes left behind. While sword wraiths generally form after a mortal's death, the slivers of especially remarkable heroes can manifest sword wraiths even while alive. King Boranel of Breland surely has a sword wraith serving in the Legion of Justice, and it's possible an adventurer could meet their own sword wraith while exploring Shavarath.

Whirling Blades
Shavarath's whirling blades are enigmatic and deadly. These manifestations are swarms of animated weapons—knives, swords—that tear through the air, eviscerating anything unfortunate enough to be in their path. Sometimes they follow consistent paths like flocks of birds. Other times, they appear in a flash, lashing at victims, then vanishing. The whirling blades may be a defense mechanism designed to keep mortals from interfering with Shavarath, and the longer mortals remain in Shavarath, the more likely they are to be struck. These blade storms can also leak out into the Material Plane in areas of particularly brutal conflict, spilling blood on all sides.

Whirling blades might take the form of a cloud of daggers, though the area and damage might both increase, or the most devastating manifestations could be represented with a blade barrier that slowly moves across the terrain.

Angels
p187
Most of Shavarath's celestials serve the Legion of Justice, which embodies the concept of war fought for a just cause. Cohorts and their component centuries represent specific concepts within that broad ideal. The Century of Mercy shows kindness to fallen foes, while the Century of the Innocent Guard protects civilians—even if they're just conscripts, the idea of civilians—and avoids collateral damage. Angels won't conscript adventurers, but also won't leave their duties to help them.

The angels of Shavarath have a martial aspect, most appearing clad in armor, with their faces—and species—hidden behind full helms. Any sort of angel can be found in Shavarath, with its power reflecting its position. Planetars command centuries, while each cohort is commanded by a solar or a celestial being of greater power, such as an empyrean. While the angels serve Justice Command, there are a few units also devoted to the Sovereigns. The Century of the Sun asserts that Dol Arrah is Justice Command, and sword wraiths formed from paladins of Dol Arrah serve with this century.

While the Legion of Justice is the largest of the celestial legions, there are others that operate on a smaller scale. Most notable of these is the Legion of Freedom, reflecting the ideal of war fought to end oppression. They rarely field large armies and instead use swift strikes and guerrilla war; these angels embody the idea of champions who fight impossible odds for a noble cause, even if this forces them to follow ignoble paths.

Demons
Demons represent the chaotic savagery of war. Most serve the Legion of Cruelty, and are wild, brutal, and far less disciplined than the devilish forces of Tyranny. They torture civilians, have no concern for collateral damage or their own losses, and make little effort to hold territory. Their focus is purely on inflicting maximum damage on foes and their own region alike. The Century of the Salted Earth devastates the regions they fight in, while the Century of Terror creates hideous displays with the corpses of their victims and delights in psychological warfare. The Legion of Cruelty slaughters devils and angels with equal glee, and is despised by Justice and Tyranny alike.

All manner of demons can be found in the Legion of Cruelty; their form reflects their military role, and many wear battered armor, steel scales, or are simply coated in fresh blood. Barlguras and hezrous are brutal shock troops. Chasmes and vrocks flood the skies, while goristros are living siege weapons. Mariliths and balors command centuries, while cohorts may be led by beings with the power of demon princes. As with all immortals of Shavarath, it's important to remember that these demons are first and foremost embodiments of war; regardless of what role a demon might play on another plane, here, it's devoted purely to the eternal war. It could be that there is a Cohort of Bones that uses undead conscripts in battle, commanded by a fiend with the stat block of Orcus—but this commander wouldn't have Orcus's ambitions, instead focusing on crushing the Cohort of the Sun in its layer.

As with angels devoted to the Sovereigns, some demons dedicate themselves and their unit to the Dark Six. Many within the Century of Terror wear the flayed skins of their foes and assert that the Mockery is part of Cruelty Command.

Devils
Devils can be just as cruel as demons, but they represent the disciplined practice of war in pursuit of oppression, and most serve the Legion of Tyranny. They seek to crush hope, and no form of treachery or dishonorable conduct is too low for a devil. However, they're far more disciplined than the savage hordes of the Legion of Cruelty, working with precision and careful plans. The Century of Chains forces enemy conscripts (and unlucky adventurers) to fight for them, and uses civilian conscripts as living shields. The Century of the Serpent is always willing to negotiate and makes many pleasing offers, but any agreement inevitably leads to betrayal.

All forms of devils can be found in the Legion of Tyranny. Their sole focus is war; they dominate and corrupt conscripts, but don't seek mortal souls from the Material Plane. Bearded and spined devils serve as basic troops, while elite squads of erinyes descend from the sky. Amnizu and balors command centuries, and beings with the power of archdevils lead cohorts.

The devils of the Cohort of Misery say that the Mockery is part of Tyranny Command, a belief that fuels a bitter enmity with the demons of the Century of Terror. Curiously, the Cohort of the Iron Hand maintains that the Sovereign Aureon leads Tyranny Command, and that they are simply enacting his vision for universal order.

Weapons of War
The battlefields of Shavarath contain engines of war unlike anything imagined on Eberron. Steel krakens in the Bloody Sea. Massive cannons that could bring down Sharn's towers with a single volley. Immense monstrosities that serve as living battering rams. However, even the grandest of these creations isn't a product of industry or arcane science—these too are conscripts. The mighty cannon isn't forged in some great foundry, but formed by the layer itself, because it's part of the idea of this battle. Fernia is a plane of industry where an artificer might learn amazing techniques from the dao; by contrast, in Shavarath, an artificer might be inspired by what they see, but most of the greatest weapons can't be replicated.

Layers
Shavarath has countless layers, each one reflecting a different struggle. There's a vicious guerilla war in the Forest of Shadows. The Monolith is a mighty fortress that's always under siege; occasionally, the attackers tear it away from the defenders, at which point the former defenders begin the siege anew. Layers are connected by a network of heavily fortified portals, though the most powerful immortals can shift between layers under their own power. Every legion has a command center or headquarters in the layers in which they operate. The legion might only assign a few centuries to smaller layers, but if a layer's large enough—such as Nullius Terram—it may host an entire cohort.

These are a few examples of layers of Shavarath, but almost any vision of war could spawn a layer.

Nullius Terram
One of the largest layers, Nullius Terram is a battlefield the size of a small nation. It's divided by several deep, heavily fortified trenches, which are separated by blasted regions of scorched earth, blast craters, and bones. Nullius Terram's multiple trench lines twist and curve throughout the region, and in the lands between the trenches lie strategic outposts. The region is marked by constant barrages and terrible tools of mass destruction—widescale cloudkill, curses that transform conscripts into killers, and worse.

Tyranny, Cruelty, and Justice are the three active legions in this region. Justice has a difficult position in Nullius Terram, but has been slowly gaining strength. Periodically, the commanders send troops to clash in the fields between the lines, either in simple skirmishes or full offensives. Ultimately, the theme of this layer is that of slow, agonizing stalemate, and the suffering war can inflict on both the land and the soldiers.

Nullius Terram is noteworthy for its flowing time; for every 10 minutes that pass in this layer, only 1 minute passes in Eberron. So it's a long, slow struggle—you could spend months here and only miss a week in Eberron.

The Burning Sky
p188
The sky is filled with many airships, some large enough to be floating towns. A few islands of rock float amongst the solid clouds, but if there's any land below, it's hidden by deadly fog. While there are skirmishes on the stone islands, most of the action occurs in the skies. Winged angels and fiends circle and duel, while conscripts guide dragons and other aerial mounts.

The City of Knives
It looks like this was once a city of marvels, with towers rivaling those of Sharn, gilded monuments, museums, gardens, and more. But the City of Knives lies between vast armies of the Legion of Justice and the Legion of Tyranny, and it represents the impact of brutal war on a glorious city. Ongoing bombardment is a constant threat. The civilian conscripts are fighting their own war for shelter and supplies; some rally together for the common good, while others have become looters and brigands. Justice and Tyranny hold their positions on either side of the city, relying on bombardment and occasional assaults. The Legion of Cruelty spreads terror within the city, while the celestials of the Legion of Freedom seek to rally the common people against all enemies.

The Bloody Sea
There are no continents in this aquatic layer, but a handful of islands support the warring fleets. Grand and powerful warships clash in the open waters and bombard settlements. The ships may be familiar, but there are many other unusual engines of war: constructed krakens, submersible warships, monstrosities and dragons bound to service—wonders that the people of Eberron can imagine but can't yet create. The pirate queen Lhazaar surely has inspired a sword wraith in the Bloody Sea... but which legion does her sword wraith fight for?

The Warring Cities
At first glance, this layer looks like the blasted land between the trenches of Nullius Terram. It's home to a number of warring cities, but they aren't static settlements. Rather, some are floating fortresses that dwarf the Argonth of Breland, and others walk on two legs. The warforged colossus in Eberron: Rising from the Last War could be used as a model for a small fortress.

Planar Manifestations
Here are a few ways Shavarath can affect the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Shavarath often inspire people to violence and aggression, and can convey any of the plane's universal properties. These zones can be dangerous places to dwell, but can also encourage martial discipline and enhance training. While many of the greatest weapons in Shavarath can't be removed from the plane, manifest zones tied to Shavarath can often provide inspiration for artificers and smiths, and it may be possible to craft deadly enchantments in a Shavaran manifest zone that simply aren't possible beyond it.

Manifest zones rarely act as gateways to Shavarath, but anything is possible when Shavarath is coterminous.

Coterminous and Remote
When Shavarath is coterminous, people are quick to anger and must be careful to not fight over trivial things. Angry words are more likely to produce brawls, and restless thought to lead to riots or revolutions. The plane's War Magic and Unquenchable Fury properties spread worldwide while it's coterminous, encouraging violence. Meanwhile, in Shavaran manifest zones, outbreaks of intense violence can draw whirling blades into the zone, slaughtering people on all sides.

Shavarath is traditionally coterminous for 1 year every 36 years. Throughout history, some military leaders have plotted campaigns around this, while peaceful communities plan ahead to contain violence. In addition to its regular cycle, Shavarath frequently grows coterminous for a single day; predicting these periods was critical for battle strategy during the Last War. Shavarath is traditionally remote for a year every 36 years, which prevents the occasional single-day coterminous spikes, but otherwise has no apparent effect on the Material Plane.

Shavaran Artifacts
Unlike Fernian elementals, the immortals of Shavarath don't create their weapons and tools of war; they're shaped by the plane itself. Many of the grandest weapons—explosives that can level cities, airships the size of small towns—either can't be removed from Shavarath or wouldn't function elsewhere. But Shavarath is a potential source for armor, weapons, and tools of war, from common items to the artifacts wielded by the commanders of cohorts. These may be some of the most powerful weapons in the multiverse—but they're also irreplaceable. You can steal the Wand of Orra'Cys, lord of the Cohort of Bones—but he'll certainly want it back, and may deploy demons, warlocks, or other agents to reclaim it.

The legion an item is associated with affects its appearance. Tools of the Legion of Justice are bright and inspiring, while those tied to the Legion of Tyranny are grim and intimidating.

Shavaran Stories
The simplest story is one of survival, escaping from Shavarath before being destroyed by the endless war. But Shavaran adventures touch the Material Plane too; here are some ideas.

Blades of War. Cannith builds a forgehold for manufacturing weapons on a manifest zone tied to Shavarath. All goes well—until a planar spike unleashes whirling blades and everything is thrown into chaos. Making things worse, some experimental constructs have gone berserk, an experimental Shavaran explosive is detonating in five hours... and it's possible an agent of the Lord of Blades has infiltrated the hold in the chaos. Can the adventurers get things under control?
The Surge. In Fairhaven, an artificer creates an eldritch machine to channel Shavarath's power—but it works too well. When Shavarath becomes coterminous, the eldritch machine amplifies everyone's aggression. Riots and looting break out across the city, while the guards act brutally to contain it. Can the adventurers find and deactivate the machine before the city tears itself apart? Is this the work of a single reckless artificer, or tied to the cult of Rak Tulkhesh or the Order of the Emerald Claw?
Deadly Weapon. The adventurers find a corpse clutching a vorpal sword—the blade of Misery, an erinyes of the Legion of Tyranny. An agent of the Argentum died while attempting to take the blade to a place it could be destroyed. Will the adventurers try to complete the mission, or claim the powerful sword as a trophy? If they choose to keep it, Misery will eventually come looking for her sword... and this cruel immortal will want to take some time to torment any mortals who have sullied her blade.
Syrania: The Azure Sky
p189
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Imagine a perfect blue sky, stretching off into the horizon. There's no sign of the sun, but the sky is clear and bright, and the floating crystal towers gleam as if caught in a sunbeam. A warm, gentle breeze brushes over you, and there's a faint sound of distant chimes. You feel absolutely calm; in this moment, all anger melts away.

This is Syrania, the Azure Sky. While people often think of its floating towers and crystal spires—the same magic that sustains the great towers of Sharn—Syrania is the plane of peace and all that flourishes in peaceful times: commerce, education, reflection. There are no vast armies here, no dangerous monsters. The magic of Syrania allows all creatures to communicate and dispels aggression. As such, it's a common crossroads for beings who do travel the planes, and the Immeasurable Market of Syrania is the safest place to interact with fiends, slaadi, and other extraplanar beings. However, while bloodshed is rare in the Azure Sky, you can still make deadly enemies; mortals are always wise to tread lightly in the cities of angels.

Universal Properties
Syrania encourages communication and negotiation, and grants all creatures the gift of flight. The Open Sky of Syrania is an endless void, and without flight, you could fall indefinitely; fortunately, all creatures find that they can move through the air just as naturally as walking.

Unburdened. A creature gains a flying speed equal to its walking speed, unless it already has a flying speed greater than or equal to its walking speed, in which case that speed increases by 10 feet.
Gentle Thoughts. A creature has advantage on Charisma (Persuasion) checks and disadvantage on Charisma (Intimidation) checks.
Standard Time. Time passes at the same pace as on the Material Plane, and is consistent across its layers.
Universal Understanding. A creature can understand the literal meaning of any spoken language that it hears and can understand any written language that it can see. This doesn't decode secret messages or reveal the meaning of symbols that aren't part of a written language.
Absolute Peace. To make an attack or cast a damaging spell, a creature must succeed on a DC 18 Wisdom saving throw. On a failed save, it doesn't make the attack or cast the spell, but the action is lost.
Denizens
Syrania is a curiously empty plane. While the Immeasurable Market is always bustling, most of this traffic is comprised of creatures from other planes. Syrania's other spires have comparatively few inhabitants—not so few that they feel desolate or barren, just enough so that it always feels slow and peaceful. There's no need for people to perform menial tasks in Syrania, nor does this plane have manifestations to populate it; damaged structures gradually repair themselves, and litter and debris slowly dissolve.

The native inhabitants of Syrania are winged humanoid immortals, collectively referred to as angels, though they differ from those of other planes in some important ways. While they're considered to be celestials, most angels of Syrania are neutral in alignment. They aren't champions of justice or bringers of hope; rather, they're observers and scholars, defined by their domain of study. The lesser immortals are simply referred to as angels, while the higher orders have titles—virtues, dominions, and thrones. These higher angels are bound to the contemplation of a particular concept, based on their domain, and devote their existence to contemplating and understanding it. Some believe that it's through this contemplation that the concept continues to exist (though most inhabitants of other places—mortal and immortal alike—consider this to be highly unlikely). The appearance of Syranian angels is influenced by their domain, so the Dominion of Storms might be wreathed in lightning and have wings formed of storm clouds, while the Dominion of Trees could have bark for skin and moss for hair.

Unlike lesser angels and visitors to Syrania, virtues, dominions, and thrones are immune to the effects of Syrania's Absolute Peace property, and are capable of taking aggressive action to defend Syrania, or when pursuing their domain—so a virtue of war could fight. However, they always try to find nonviolent or nonlethal solutions to threats.

Angels
Angels are the least of the immortals of Syrania. They have no names or domains and are generally interchangeable; they serve as scribes and guides, performing minor tasks. They do not engage in combat and their statistics are largely inconsequential.

Virtues
Virtues are a higher order of angel, with names and broad domains—Hazari, Virtue of Nature. They act as assistants and emissaries of the dominions. Virtues spend much of their time contemplating their domain, but they also gather information for their dominions—either by fetching existing records within Syrania, talking with creatures who visit the plane, or by venturing beyond Syrania and discretely observing. A dominion is always aware of everything that happens to its virtues and immediately knows all information they collect. Virtues typically use the stat blocks of devas, and they change their forms to conceal their presence while gathering intelligence. The "Syranian Domains" sidebar provides examples of some domains; it's possible that a virtue might be able to cast a couple additional spells that are associated with their domain, though they'll not know the full list. They can only use commune to answer questions tied to their domain, and can cast plane shift once per day, but only when acting in the direct service of a dominion.

Dominions
p190
Dominions focus on a very specific aspect of a single domain, like wolves or swords. They have names and specific domains, along with extra titles for pomp—Tezaria, Angel of the Storm, Dominion of the Seventh Spire. They typically spend their time in contemplation and use virtues as their eyes and hands, but occasionally a dominion acts directly—especially if its spire is threatened in some way. As neutral observers, dominions have no sympathy for mortals, but they're often willing to discuss their domain with a mortal who has an interesting perspective on it.

It's important to recognize the difference between a warrior angel of Shavarath and a dominion of Syrania with the domain of War. The Shavaran is an angel who fights wars, and this has no place in peaceful Syrania. On the other hand, the dominion of Syrania—perhaps called the Angel of Swords—understands war, and in particular, knows everything there is to know about a single thing: swords. They know sword-fighting techniques from every mortal and immortal culture. They can recognize any sword, know the locations of a number of long-forgotten legendary blades, and may have a few in their possession. They're likely one of the deadliest swordfighters in existence, but they don't actually desire to fight, because that's not the point: they are the Angel of Swords, and they contemplate swords.

Dominions often use the statistics of a planetar, substituting the spells and skills on the "Syranian Domains" sidebar; however, they maintain the ability to cast detect good and evil and invisibility at will, and use the latter to move unseen when observing on the Material Plane. Dominions might also possess additional abilities reflecting their absolute knowledge of their domain. For example, the Angel of Swords could be immune to any damage inflicted by a sword; perhaps they know perfectly how to defend against such an attack, or the sword itself might even refuse to strike them.

Syranian Domains
Each virtue, dominion, and throne is dedicated to contemplation and mastery of a domain. Here are some example domains, along with skills and spells that any dominion or throne dedicated to it would likely have; virtues might also be able to cast a couple spells from their associated domain.

Arcana. At will: detect magic, identify, magic missile. 3/day: dispel magic, magic circle, Nystul's magic aura, remove curse. 1/day: antimagic field, planar binding, teleportation circle. Skills: Arcana

Art. At will: minor illusion, phantasmal force. 3/day: enthrall, programmed illusion, seeming, suggestion. 1/day: mass suggestion, Otto's irresistible dance, project image. Skills: Performance, tool or instrument proficiency.

Commerce. At will: charm person, comprehend languages, detect thoughts. 3/day: dominate person, fabricate, sending, telepathic bond. 1/day: creation, glibness, mind blank. Skills: Insight, Persuasion

Death. At will: ray of sickness, speak with dead. 3/day: animate dead, blight, death ward, vampiric touch. 1/day: antilife shell, cloudkill, finger of death. Skills: Medicine.

Knowledge. At will: augury, command, identify. 3/day: confusion, legend lore, scrying, true seeing. 1/day: commune, feeblemind, foresight. Skills: History.

Life. At will: cure wounds, spare the dying. 3/day: beacon of hope, death ward, greater restoration, revivify. 1/day: heal, mass cure wounds, raise dead. Skills: Medicine.

Nature. At will: animal friendship, druidcraft, speak with animals. 3/day: commune with nature, dominate beast, grasping vine, plant growth. 1/day: animal shapes, control weather, insect plague. Skills: Nature, Survival.

War. At will: magic weapon, shield of faith. 3/day: banishing smite, crusader's mantle, freedom of movement, spiritual weapon, warding bond. 1/day: blade barrier, holy aura. Skills: Medicine.

Thrones
The greatest angels of Syrania are the thrones. There's a single throne for each domain, and they have a profound knowledge of their entire domain. Unlike lesser angels, thrones are known only by their domain, with no other name—the Throne of War. They're bound to all the dominions whose studies lie within their domain, and they know everything experienced by those dominions. They largely remain in deep contemplation, acting only if Syrania itself is threatened or if a dominion succumbs to corruption. A throne has powers equal to or greater than a solar, though when using spells such as commune, it can only answer questions tied to its domain. A throne also has access to the skills and spells on the "Syranian Domains" sidebar. As a bonus action, a throne can strip the benefits of Syrania's Unburdened property for any number of creatures it can see—so flightless creatures who cause trouble may find themselves falling forever through the Open Sky.

The thrones are the most powerful entities that can be encountered by mortals, but many sages assume that they are themselves tied to a greater force who knows everything that they experience, and who shapes the plane itself.

Artist: Adrian Mith
Artist: Adrian Mith
Layers
p191
Rather than being divided into separate layers in the same way as many other planes, Syrania is comprised of crystal spires floating in the seemingly infinite void of the Open Sky. The space within a spire may be far larger than it appears from the outside, whether the spire leads to the multiple towers of the University or the vast expanse of the Immeasurable Market. However, all of these regions are connected through the medium of the spires and the Open Sky.

The majority of spires aren't all that vast. Most are the seats of a dominion, who is attended by a few virtues and additional angels as needed. These have the general flavor of a library or museum, with additional facilities to allow the dominion to practice or study its subject. The spire of a dominion of nature has gardens, while the tower of a dominion of war has displays of armor and a dueling chamber. But these are still places for study and contemplation; the seat of a dominion of war isn't an impenetrable fortress, and the spire of a dominion of nature has cultivated gardens, not the wilderness one finds in Irian and Lamannia.

The Open Sky
The Open Sky is the vast blue expanse from which the Azure Sky takes its name. The clear, bright, sunless sky shows no signs of passing time; the moon Therendor can be seen, but it doesn't move or have phases. Despite the Open Sky's seemingly infinite space, it wraps around on itself, effectively making it a 300-mile cube. So while it takes a significant time to travel between the farthest points, it is possible. There are no native threats in the Open Sky, and all visitors to Syrania have the ability to fly; the catch is knowing where to go, as there are hundreds of spires.

The University
The pursuit of knowledge and education are things that flourish in times of peace. While most dominions are devoted to their own personal contemplation, the Throne of Knowledge maintains the University of Syrania, where chosen students can study an astonishing array of subjects with virtues of knowledge and the occasional guest dominion. The catch is that students need to be admitted... and there isn't actually a process for applying. At the moment, the University only has twenty students, chosen from across the planes by roaming virtues.

For planar travelers who come to Syrania, the University is a good repository of general knowledge; if the scholarly virtues can't help, they'll likely know the way to a dominion that can. It's also an unusual background for a player character; perhaps a Divine Soul sorcerer unlocked their powers at the University, or perhaps a warlock's Celestial patron is their thesis advisor. And it's a very exotic option for a university group patron...

The Immesurable Market
While most planes are isolated from others and it's difficult to move from one plane to another, commerce and peaceful interaction are defining aspects of Syrania. Most planes have back doors that lead to the Immeasurable Market. The crystal spire in the Open Sky is merely a gateway leading to an open marketplace that extends as far as the eye can see. To one side, a slaadi haggles with a modron over the price of hippogriff eggs; to the other, a sly dao shows a Shavaran balor a selection of Fernia-forged blades. It's said that anything you can imagine—and many things you can't—can be found in the Immeasurable Market.

The Immeasurable Market includes customers and merchants from across the planes, including the Material Plane; there are a few back doors to the Market hidden on Eberron, and those who find them can make a healthy profit trading in exotic goods. It also includes a significant number of native immortals. Angels work as servers and porters, while virtues of commerce run small stands and shops. Dominions of commerce run the largest and most reliable businesses, while the Throne of Commerce monitors the entire Market and banishes troublemakers.

There are countless merchants in the Market. Most have temporary stands or tents, but there are a few permanent structures scattered about; the Last Resort is the most beloved watering hole in the planes. The Immeasurable Merchants table provides a few examples of merchants and shops adventurers could discover.

Violence is forbidden in the Market, and thieves and other criminals are generally deported to Daanvi for judgment and punishment. While merchants always try to get the best deal, when dealing with immortal customers, your reputation is everything. Beyond this, oaths made in the Market carry great weight, and can be enforced in the courts of Daanvi; in the Immeasurable Market, your word truly is your bond. This is important, because most of the merchants aren't interested in gold, and goods and services usually involve barter. The Immeasurable Currencies table gives a few examples of things that can be used in trade, but this is just a starting point; the DM should feel free to come up with other offers.

Planar Manifestations
p192
Here are some ways that Syrania affects the Material Plane.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Syrania can reflect one or more of the properties of the plane, but often in more limited ways. The manifest zone containing the city of Sharn has a lesser aspect of the Unburdened property; it doesn't grant flight, but it enhances effects that grant flight or levitation, enabling the skycoaches and flying buttresses that support the towers. A zone that has the Absolute Peace property might have a lower DC for the saving throw, or it might encourage peaceful behavior without actively enforcing it. Temples are often built on Syranian zones with the Absolute Peace property, while universities and House Sivis search for zones with the Universal Understanding property.

In addition to standard manifest zones, there are a few portals to the Immeasurable Market hidden in Eberron. These take many forms; a back door could be an actual door, a large chest, or a shallow pool of water. A back door only opens under specific circumstances: when opened with a special key, when used at a certain time, when blood is spilled, or when a heart is broken. Most who discover these portals jealously guard them; a merchant with access to the Immeasurable Market can acquire remarkable goods!

Coterminous and Remote
When Syrania is coterminous, goodwill spreads across the world and people find it nearly impossible to contemplate violence. These periods brought welcome moments of peace during the Last War, and there are stories of enemy soldiers coming together to share stories or play games. During these times, the Absolute Peace and Gentle Thoughts properties apply across Eberron. However, if a creature is attacked, harmed by a spell, or witnesses its friends being harmed, that creature is unaffected by Absolute Peace for one minute. The influence of Syrania limits violence, but once conflicts break out, it can't stop them.

While Syrania is coterminous, the skies are clear and the weather is calm—it's believed that if you're in a Syranian manifest zone during this time, it's possible to fly into the Open Sky simply by flying straight up to the edge of the sky. This may be apocryphal or only true in certain manifest zones... there's only one way to find out!

When Syrania is remote, the skies are gray and the sun can't be seen. People feel quarrelsome and it's difficult to come to an understanding. Creatures have disadvantage on all Charisma (Persuasion) checks and advantage on Charisma (Intimidation) checks. Outside of Syranian manifest zones, all flying speeds are reduced by 10 feet, to a minimum of 5 feet.

Traditionally, Syrania is coterminous on the 9th day of the month of Rhaan, once every ten years. Followers of the Sovereign Host celebrate this day every year as Boldrei's Feast, a time for people to come together and resolve their grievances; the tenth-year coterminous celebrations are especially grand. Syrania is remote once every ten years on the same day, five years after the coterminous period. This day is still celebrated, as people make a conscious effort not to give into anger.

Syranian Artifacts
Syrania's greatest treasure is the Immeasurable Market itself, with all manner of exotic goods available there. Many of the dominions of Syrania are more interested in collecting relics tied to their domain than in creating them, but there are a few who do both; the limits of what they can produce are tied to their domain.

Other Syranian items are usually linked to the plane's universal properties. The power of Syrania enhances flight; there's a stall in the Market that sells wings of flying that resemble the wings of an angel. Things that encourage or enforce peace may come from Syrania, along with items that enhance a character's diplomatic ability.

Artist: Lucas Bonatto Guerrini
Artist: Lucas Bonatto Guerrini
Syranian Stories
p193
Wandering angels can stumble into any story, and the Immeasurable Market is a boon for adventurers lucky enough to find it. The Last Resort can be an interesting place for a powerful enemy to arrange a meeting; what safer place for neutral negotiations than on the plane of peace? Given the versatility and opportunities available in the Immeasurable Market, a DM may wish to limit access to Syrania; even if adventurers find a back door, it could open only at certain times or require a particular sacrifice.

Curious Virtue. After the adventurers acquire a curious object that defies any attempt to divine its powers and history, a hireling or observer is revealed to be a Syranian angel that's observing the adventurers. The item is a powerful extraplanar artifact; the virtue doesn't want to take it from them, but rather, to observe the effect it has on its bearer and the world around them. The virtue is the key to unlocking the powers of this powerful artifact... but how do the characters feel about being subjects of a celestial case study?
Pursuit through the Market. After the adventurers acquire a curious object that defies any attempt to divine its powers and history, a hireling or observer is revealed to be a Syranian angel that's observing the adventurers. The item is a powerful extraplanar artifact; the virtue doesn't want to take it from them, but rather, to observe the effect it has on its bearer and the world around them. The virtue is the key to unlocking the powers of this powerful artifact... but how do the characters feel about being subjects of a celestial case study?
Celestial Knowledge. The adventurers need to obtain a particularly obscure piece of information, and the only being that might possess it is a dominion of knowledge in Syrania. Can the adventurers find a way to reach the celestial's library spire? What does it want in exchange for its knowledge—and will the adventurers try to pay this price, or steal the information they need?
Fallen Angels
Syranian virtues sometimes travel to the Material Plane to conduct research for their dominion, concealing their true nature through magic or invisibility, and trying to minimize their interactions with mortals. Occasionally, a dominion wishes to experience the Material Plane for itself, perhaps pursuing a lead or studying a particularly interesting group of subjects. However, this venture can be quite dangerous, for even angels fall.

Many sages believe that touching Eberron's ground makes angels vulnerable to the influence of Khyber and the overlords, while others theorize that mortal worship—the positive energy that sustains the Undying Court—is like a drug to the dominions. Whatever the cause, dominions who interact with mortals run the risk of becoming corrupted. Such immortals crave mortal adoration and often seek to dominate mortals by exercising the power of their sphere.

Not all dominions fall prey to this corruption, but once one does, there seems to be no way to undo it. Even if the angel is destroyed and reforms, the corruption remains. It's unlikely that such an angel would be met in Syrania itself; typically, these corrupted angels are forever stripped of the power of flight and condemned to walk the Material Plane as radiant idols.

Thelanis: The Faerie Court
p194
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Every culture has faerie tales—stories that use exaggeration and supernatural elements to warn children of the consequences of bad behavior or to demonstrate the virtues of society. Breland tells tales of the Sleeping Prince, cursed to slumber by a cruel hag until he's saved by the courage of the Woodcutter's Daughter. In the Mror Holds, there's a tale older than Breland itself, in which Lady Narathun curses Doldarun's son with eternal sleep, until he's saved by humble Toldorath. And the Dhakaani dar have an ancient story about how Hezhaal—a dirge singer who betrayed the empire and studied sinister magic—cast the marhu's son into a cursed slumber, until he was saved by a simple golin'dar.

This is just one of many stories that appear over and over in different cultures. The exact details may shift—is the sleeper a prince? The marhu's son? Doldarun's heir?—while the thrust of the tale and the lessons it teaches persist. But long before any of these cultures arose, these stories existed somewhere else. In a layer of Thelanis, the Lady in Shadow curses a prince with eternal sleep. She tends a garden full of wonders, and keeps her own daughter hidden in the heart of a labyrinth of thorns. At the deepest level, that is what the fey are: stories. The dryad isn't a natural spirit; it's the magic we want in the world when we see a slender tree move in the wind and imagine it as a beautiful person. Thelanis is built on iconic stories, but it's also the Faerie Court; at its heart, satyrs and nymphs dance in the shadows of the Palace of the Moon, while the archfey engage in immortal intrigues. It's a fantastic realm essentially built around the idea of adventures, but it's a deadly place for those who refuse to understand its rules.

Thelanis is one of the easiest planes for mortals to reach. Just walk through a mushroom ring when Rhaan is full in the sky, or follow the sound of distant music in the forest. It's not always this easy, but it can be. One wrong step and you could find yourself in Thelanis, retracing the steps of storybook heroes and making dangerous bargains with the rulers of the Faerie Court.

Universal Properties
Thelanis is unpredictable, and its cardinal rule is that layers follow their own stories. Consider the following properties.

Enchanted Realm. Saving throws against illusion or enchantment spells have disadvantage. When a creature casts an illusion or enchantment spell with a duration of 1 minute or longer, the duration is doubled; spells with a duration of 24 hours or more are unaffected.
Storybook Logic. No two layers of Thelanis are exactly alike. Each is driven by its story, and any rule can be overridden by a particular tale. Damage types could be swapped or rendered impotent; in the Valley of Stolen Fire, all fire damage becomes cold damage. Ability checks using particular skills could have advantage or disadvantage. In one layer, spells that restore hit points might have no effect; in another, a glass of wine could act as a potion of healing. But while these effects vary from layer to layer, they are entirely reliable within that layer and should feel logical based on the nature of the local story.
Words Have Power. In Thelanis, words—and particularly promises—have power. Creatures should be very careful about making formal agreements of any sort, especially with archfey; the more powerful the fey, the graver the consequences of breaking a promise. The price varies, a slightly broken promise to a greater fey might simply result in a run of bad luck, with disadvantage on the next few rolls. On the other hand, a promise to an archfey could inherently carry the power of a geas. The fey themselves are bound by this restriction—though they are aware of it and are exceedingly careful with their promises.
Chaotic Time. Time is entirely flexible in Thelanis, moving at different rates from layer to layer. It's possible for adventurers to spend a night in Thelanis, then discover that a year has passed in Eberron. But it's equally possible for a group of adventurers to find a layer where they save a kingdom and reign as kings and queens... only to stumble through a gate many years later and discover that only an hour has passed in their homes. Often time catches up with mortals when they return to Eberron—either swiftly aging them if more time has passed on the Material Plane, or potentially restoring their youth and erasing the decades of time spent in Thelanis.
Denizens
Thelanis is home to fey in all their forms. Sprites flit between trees, singing to the dryads that dwell within them. There are birds in the trees, and if you talk to them, one might answer—either a bird or a tree, depending on the story. Most of the denizens of Thelanis fall into one of four categories.

Supporting Cast
The vast majority of the creatures of Thelanis—the sprites in the forest, the dryads, the birds, and for that matter, the trees themselves—are manifestations. These members of the supporting cast exist because the story needs them to exist, and they have a specific role to play. While most supporting cast are fey, any creature can appear if the story requires it. A pack of wolves? An angry giant? A white horse that appears just when it's needed? Anything is possible.

Supporting cast generally use the standard stat blocks for each creature, though they might be considered fey instead of other creature types. These creatures don't think of themselves as manifestations; it's simply that they have no real depth, no desires other than the drives they need to fill their role in the story, and no care for the passage of time. The sprite never gets bored of its song, and it never stops to question anything about its existence.

The supporting cast reflects the fact that the stories of Thelanis don't change. The hungry giant will always be guarding the well. If adventurers defeat the giant, they're the heroes of the hour and it feels like a triumph; but if they return to the barony at a later date, the giant will be back—or at least, a remarkably similar giant—and it won't remember them or acknowledge their previous victory. As a general rule, supporting cast can't abandon their posts or leave their layers.

However, more than the manifestations of other planes, the supporting cast of Thelanis can evolve. When an anchor baron gives the white horse to an adventurer, it becomes a mortal horse and they can ride it home. Supporting cast that drift into manifest zones become mortal fey, dwelling in the zone until they die. A supporting cast member can also evolve by gaining a greater role in the story. An individual sprite doesn't even have a name, but if the adventureres convince the sprite to help them, and it plays a critical role in their defeat of the giant at the well, it's no longer a nameless sprice; it's Clever Jack, or whatever name they gave it. If a manifestation becomes mortal, it can go anywhere it likes, even leaving its layer and following the adventureres back to Eberron... but if it dies, it's gone forever. On the other hand, a manifestation can evolve to become a greater fey; if this happens, it remains immortal, and it's still tied to its story, just with a bigger role and more personality.

Eladrin and Other Mortals
p195
There are two types of mortals in Thelanis. The first are the supporting cast that have become real and split off from their original stories. The second are natural-born mortals who do have their own cultures and cities; chief among these are the eladrin, who dwell in the feyspires of the Moonlit Vale. Each spire is ruled by an archfey, and each has a distinct story that shapes the personality of the local eladrin. The eladrin aren't as bound by story as other fey, but the magic of the plane encourages a deep devotion to their spire and their ruler. They hunt, they hold revels, they serve their ruler in the intrigues of the Moon Court; it rarely occurs to them that there could be more to life. However, they're indeed mortals; they fall in love, they have children, they are born, and they die. If an eladrin leaves their spire—whether to roam across Thelanis or into Eberron—they often gain a greater appreciation of the passage of time. Living among mortals in a mundane world can be a hard transition for an eladrin; compared to the wonders of the Faerie Court, there is little fey beauty in Khorvaire. The longer an eladrin lives in the mortal world, the more mortal it becomes; this is why eladrin player characters are considered humanoids (and elves) rather than fey.

For the eladrin of Thelanis, the seasonal aspect remains a statement of their current mood and nature. However, seasons are also used as a political statement, reflecting a degree of support for that season in the Moon Court; there may be times when an eladrin will resist assuming a particular aspect so as not to offend a host.

The eladrin are the most common mortals in the layer, but there are also a handful of mortals who have been drawn in from Eberron—the gnomes of Pylas Pyrial, wandering Greensingers, mortals personally chosen by one of the archfey, or creatures who accidentally wandered through manifest zones and are trying to find their way home.

Greater Fey
Greater fey are tied to a barony or have a role in the Moonlit Vale, but they have their own names, identities, and distinct personalities. They can have their own agendas and schemes within the grander story of the archfey, seeking love or revenge or other ambitions. Sometimes the protagonist of the story appears as a greater fey; in the case of the Sleeping Prince, perhaps the adventurers can actually meet the clever Woodcutter's Daughter. However, often the role of protagonist is left for the adventurers to fill; in Thelanis, they are the ones who must wake the Sleeping Prince.

Despite their individuality, these greater fey are still fey; they remain attached to their layers, and don't experience the passage of time as mortals do. They want to achieve things within their story, but few have any thoughts or desires that go beyond Thelanis. However, it's possible for them to go wherever they want. A greater fey could establish its own domain in a manifest zone tied to Thelanis, or be found selling strange trinkets in the Immeasurable Market of Syrania. When greater fey do leave Thelanis, they generally seek to create their own stories; they still want to be part of a narrative that makes sense to them.

Any fey creature can be used as a basic foundation for a greater fey, possibly with additional powers tied to the story they tell. A greater dryad might be able to see through all of the trees in the manifest zone she calls home, and to control its beasts. This isn't represented by a spell, as she couldn't control beasts in other places; it's simply part of the story.

As the story of a greater fey grows, its abilities can grow as well... but these are often tied to storybook logic, and power could be balanced by a weakness. A greater dryad could be immune to fire unless someone knows her name, at which point she is vulnerable to it. Or she might be immune to piercing damage but vulnerable to slashing damage—arrows and spears refuse to strike her, but axes hunger to cut her down.

Archfey and Anchor Barons
The archfey are the foundation of Thelanis, the force that sets a story in motion. Where greater fey may be tied to a single story, most archfey have inspired countless tales—often as the antagonist, though they can also be benevolent. The Lady in Shadow is the archetype of the mighty witch who lives apart from society, whose anger can bring a terrible curse. She's the villain of the Sleeping Prince, but she also curses those who steal from her secret garden, and may have advice for those who approach her carefully and with gifts. In some cases, stories refer to the archfey by name. When something goes missing in the Five Nations, people in Eberron know the Forgotten Prince stole it; his story is explored in chapter 8. Other archfey inspire tales, but those stories are seen through a local lens. The Lady in Shadow set the story of the Sleeping Prince in motion long ago, but in Eberron, the villain of the story is Lady Narathun, or Hezhaal the dirge singer, or Sora Katra. This is fine with the Lady in Shadow; she doesn't need mortals to know her name.

Many archfey dwell in the Moonlit Vale. Some rule over feyspires, while others dwell in the Palace of the Moon; the intrigues of the Court aretheir defining stories. Archfey that rule layers are known as anchor barons, as each is the anchor that defines the barony. They come to the Palace of the Moon for revels or conclaves, but prefer to dwell in their own story.

Archfey possess great power within Thelanis and its manifest zones, but to act in the world beyond, they need agents. Some recruit agents directly, working with Greensingers or training warlocks or other emissaries; an archfey could serve as an immortal group patron for a group of adventurers. Typically, an archfey wants its agents to take actions relating to its story; the Forgotten Prince charges his agents to steal secrets and unloved things. Others don't want agents; they want mortals to reenact their stories, as in many versions of the Sleeping Prince. Hezhaal the dirge singer really did curse the marhu's son long ago, and Sora Katra is another real person who just happens to resemble the Lady in Shadow in some ways. Neither Katra nor Hezhaal knowingly served the Lady in Shadow—but she may have secretly aided them, or placed gifts or obstacles in their paths that might make them reenact the stories, unknowingly becoming avatars of the archfey. Archfey can't be permanently killed; as long as their stories are told, the archfey will reform. However, this usually involves a greater fey being promoted to fill the role; the archfey still exists, but they aren't exactly the same as the one that came before.

Chapter 8 includes two archfey, the Forest Queen and the Forgotten Prince, along with descriptions of their layers, their goals, and how they can assist adventurers—or oppose them. Additional archfey are mentioned in the Archfey of Thelanis table, just a few examples of the dozens in Thelanis. In creating new archfey, consider the stories that are told about them and how those stories could play out again in the current campaign.

Layers
p196
Much like Kythri, Dal Quor, and Syrania, Thelanis has a core layer surrounded by lesser layers. The heart of Thelanis is the Moonlit Vale, where all archfey gather for their revels. This is surrounded by endless baronies, each embodying the stories of a particular archfey. While eladrin and fey can shift between layers, it's more challenging for mortals to travel to a barony; this often requires a token from that realm, or for the mortals to act out some aspect of its story.

Regardless of the specific identity of a layer, Thelanis always feels magical and otherworldy. Its environments are typically vibrant and beautiful, but if they are harsh and ugly, they are exceptionally so. It feels like a story, exaggerated and unreal.

The Moonlit Vale
This is the largest layer of Thelanis and the heart of the plane. The Moonlit Vale is essentially a country, with the feyspires spread across it as cities; it's possible to spend days traveling from spire to spire. While it's largely arboreal, there are beautiful valleys, glittering lakes, and a vast mountain. It's always night here, and the moon Rhaan radiates bright light, always seeming to hang just above the viewer. While the moon doesn't move or change, the seasons do; in winter, the court is covered in snow, while in spring, it's in brilliant flower. This has nothing to do with the passage of time, and everything to do with the intrigues of the Palace of the Moon; the current season indicates which seasonal court is currently dominant. This is a crucial aspect of the Moonlit Vale: things change. The baronies are fixed in their stories, but the intrigues of the four seasons are the story Thelanis tells itself.

The Moonlit Vale embodies the general idea of the fey—otherworldy beauty and magic. There are many natural displays of illusion—streams of glowing mist, ethereal music, distant song. Motes of light drift slowly through the trees. The beasts of the region are sleek and graceful, and have unusual colors and patterns; while many use standard stat blocks, sentient beasts might use the statistics for Valenar beasts from Eberron: Rising from the Last War (though these aren't in any way related to the Tairnadal). The land is fertile, game is easy to hunt, and adventurers have advantage on foraging checks... though hunting without permission may incur the wrath of the local fey.

The grandest city in the Moonlit Vale is the Palace of the Moon. Its towers are built into the trunks of four vast trees, each one reflecting the influence of a particular season. The Summer Tree is in full bloom, while the Winter Tree is withered and bare. The four seasons are factions among the fey of the Moon Court, and those who dwell within the palace live within the tree of their season. The palace is full of endless intrigues, and envoys negotiate alliances with the feyspires and the anchor barons. To mortals, many of these intrigues would seem trivial and strange, but for the fey, they determine the ruling season, which sets the tone for the layer. At the apex of each season—perhaps a strangely arbitrary declaration in a realm with such a casual relationship to time—the fey of the ruling season host a grand revel, which draws archfey from all throughout the plane; this is a moment when intrigues bloom and stories are shaped, a time for duels and grand declarations.

The feyspires are the cities of the Moonlit Vale. Each is home to a single archfey whose personal story is reflected by the spire, along with a few greater fey and a host of eladrin and other mortals. Many feyspires serve as planar beachheads; they are tied to specific manifest zones in Eberron, and when the time is right, they can slip into Eberron for a short time. Usually the feyspires are hidden by powerful illusions during these times, but there are stories of people stumbling into magical cities that are gone the next day. In fourth edition, the Eberron Campaign Guide explored the idea that feyspires could be trapped in Eberron following the Mourning; it's up to a DM to decide if that's the story they want to tell. Here are a few notable feyspires:

Pylas Pyrial is the Gate of Joy, celebrated for its bards and revels. Tied to Zilargo, it has a significant gnome population.

Shae Joridal is the City of Emerald Lights; its illusionists are legendary. It appears in what is now Darguun.

Shae Loralyndar is the City of Rose and Thorn, an arboreal spire frequently found in the Twilight Demesne of the Eldeen Reaches. Many Greensingers have close ties to this city.

Shae Tirias Tolai is the City of Silver and Bone. Tied to Xen'drik, it was sacked by the giants of the Cul'sir Dominion and never reclaimed; some believe the elves of Eberron are descended from the eladrin of Shae Tirias Tolai. Today, it's a haunted ruin, shunned by the fey.

Shaelas Tiraleth is the Court of the Silver Tree, largest of the feyspires. Its ruler, Shan Tira, is a master diviner and gifted oracle. All archfey respect her words, and she serves as a mediator between the seasons of the Moon Court. The spire is tied to Cyre, and there are stories that suggest the first Princess Cyre herself may have been a student of Shan Tira.

Taer Syraen is the Winter Citadel, seat of the Prince of Frost. This martial spire appears in a barren region of Karrnath. It's closely allied with the winter fey of the Moon Court.

The Baronies
p197
Each barony is a collection of layers that embody the stories of their anchor baron. Only one archfey is found in each barony, and it is a serious transgression for another archfey to enter a barony uninvited, as their presence disrupts the story. Each barony is unique, but the layers are often quite small, reflecting the events of a familiar tale... though not all of the stories of Thelanis are known to every culture in Khorvaire! A few are described below, but there are many more.

The Endless Weald and the Castle of Forgotten Things are described in chapter 8; these are the baronies of the Forest Queen and the Forgotten Prince.

The Assembly is the barony of the Forge Maiden. Here, innovation is celebrated, and any artificer spell cast in this layer is treated as if it were cast at a level one higher than the spell slot that was expended. But while there are a few stories of how things go well, there are many where inventions go terribly wrong: the construct dragon that has claimed the workshop and gathered a hoard; the labyrinth the Maiden designed so well that she became lost in it; the time stop spell that can't be undone. Wondrous (and impossible) artifacts can be found here, but so can many dangers.

The Shadow is the barony of the Lady in Shadow, with branches reflecting the many tales of this sinister figure. It includes a tiny kingdom, which serves as the set for the Sleeping Prince and similar tales; the kingdom is often named Whitestone, though this can change. The secret garden of the Lady is walled and protected by dangerous plant creatures, but holds imaginary flowers that an alchemist could use to do amazing things. The Lady's tower is hidden within a maze of thorns. Any story dealing with a sinister spellcaster dwelling on the edge of civilization could be found here.

Folly is the barony of Fortune's Fool. Here, great misfortunes regularly occur, but invariably lead to unlikely success. In this layer, d20 rolls of 5 or below are always considered a 1, and rolls of 16 or above are always considered a 20. Folly contains a charming village and a number of threats—a dragon, a giant—that can't be defeated with weapons alone. However, skill checks can be used to achieve things that might seem impossible in reality. For example, each Persuasion or Deception check could be used to convince the dragon to eat its own hoard, with each successful check reducing its hit points until it bursts. This is a place where wits are more important than brawn, though it may take time for the adventurers to discover this.

Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Planar Manifestations
Here are a few ways Thelanis can affect the world.

Manifest Zones
More than with any other plane, Thelanian manifest zones often allow travel between the planes. Fey creatures dwell in such zones, and a greater fey may turn such a manifest zone into its personal domain. Just as fey can cross over from Thelanis, mortals can travel to the Faerie Court. Gateway zones always share the general environment of the layer they are connected to, though it's rarely obvious when this passage occurs, and it may take time for travelers to realize they have crossed over. However, there are always signs of a gateway—circles of mushrooms, strange patterns of vegetation, eerie lights, or faint, unearthly music the adventurers must follow. Gateways typically only activate at certain times—often when the moon Rhaan is full—and even then, there's usually something that must be done that violates a known superstition. If you stay on the path in the forest, you won't stumble into the Endless Weald. But if you follow the ghostly music, or chase the silvery deer? That's on you.

Other manifest zones reflect the properties and influence of Thelanis without allowing passage between worlds. Zones with the Enchanted Realm property are much sought after by House Phiarlan and House Thuranni. Zones with Storybook Logic break the rules of reality in specific ways; the Grove of Promises is a clearing that holds an old stone fountain. Stories from the nearby village say that if you make a promise to someone and then share a drink from the fountain, you must keep your word—and if you are false, you'll sicken and die. The people of the town perform marriages in the Grove. Young lovers sneak away to pledge their hearts. There are even merchants who like to seal their deals in the Grove. The people of the town never break a promise sworn in the Grove... will you?

A final form of manifest zone is the beachhead; this phenomenon periodically draws a piece of Thelanis into Eberron. The feyspires mentioned earlier are an example of this, but a beachhead can be any unusual location—sure to be a local legend, but rarely be found by those searching for it, only uncovered by chance. There's a tale in the Mror Holds of the Tomb of the Forgotten King, found when a traveler seeks shelter in a cave and discovers deeper passages. Following these tunnels, they find themselves in an ancient tomb. Jewels are embedded in the walls. Coins are heaped on tables, spilling onto the floor. In some versions of the story, guardians patrol the tomb, spirits of stone and metal. In others, there are deadly traps. But one detail remains the same throughout all the tales: treasures taken from the tomb always bring misfortune, bestowing curses that linger until the thief finds the tomb again and returns what they have stolen... or until they die.

Coterminous and Remote
p198
When Thelanis is coterminous, new gateway zones spring up. Mischievous or cruel fey may cross over, and it's far easier for careless travelers to cross over. However, there are always warning signs, and you generally must break some superstition or taboo to be pulled through. Thus, when people know the planes are coterminous, they are cautious to remember the stories and avoid foolish behavior.

When Thelanis is remote, the effects of Thelanian manifest zones are suppressed. Fey creatures may be temporarily drawn back to Thelanis, even those that normally dwell on Eberron. In general, the world feels less magical.

Traditionally, Thelanis becomes coterminous for a period of 7 years every 225 years, and it is remote for 7 years halfway between these cycles. However, there is evidence, such as beachheads remaining in place longer than usual, that something has disrupted this cycle. This may be a result of the Mourning... or it could be that the Mourning is just an easy excuse, and the true story is tied to the schemes of an archfey or a mortal mastermind. Nonetheless, no one knows when Thelanis will become coterminous again—or how long the phase might last when it does.

Thelanian Artifacts
Thelanis can be a source of wondrous magical items. The simplest deal with illusion or enchantment: eyes of charming or a hat of disguise. But any sort of magic item can come from Thelanis—the catch is that Thelanian items invariably have a story attached to them. The berserker axe that can't be released until it kills someone you love. The dragon slayer that calls out to dragons, summoning wyverns for you to fight and drawing the attention of agents of the Chamber. The crystal ball that occasionally shows glimpses of things you don't want to know.

Thelanian items can also hold curses that come with no accompanying benefit. The mithral falcon is a statue that amplifies existing greed. Generous people are unaffected by its magic, but greedy folk feel a growing need to claim the falcon from its current owner. The falcon can start a gang war between criminal organizations, or turn Aurum concordians into the bitterest of enemies. The falcon has no beneficial powers, but its curse can drive a story.

Thelanian Stories
Thelanian stories can start before a campaign begins. With the DM's permission, any character or party could be connected to an archfey, for better or for worse. Here are a few examples.

The Patron. Whether serving as patron for a warlock or an entire party, an archfey could work with adventurers, providing magical benefits—perhaps spells from the artificer or bard lists, or boons and magic items—in exchange for the character's services. It could be that the patron's goals are tied to the intrigues of the Moon Court or to some element of its story. It might want the characters to deal with the warlock agents of another archfey. Or it could be that the archfey is trying to get the adventurers to reenact its story in the present day, to have a character serve as an avatar for the archfey—or as the avatar for one of its enemies.
Blessing or Curse? You don't have to be a warlock to draw powers from an archfey. An artificer could have been blessed by the Forge Maiden; their artifice isn't arcane science, they simply create impossible, whimsical things. A barbarian's rage could be a curse from the Lady in Shadow, laid upon an ancestor and handed down through generations. All other members of the character's family have eventually been killed by their fury; does the barbarian seek to break the curse, or do they just want to live as wild a life as possible before it consumes them?
Faerie Tales. The archfey and the baronies are the source of faerie tales. You can draw from beloved tales in our own world to craft any adventure, adding an Eberron twist. Using these tropes gives the players a sense of familiarity with the story, just as the people of Eberron are familiar with these archetypal tales, played out time and time again across cultures and generations. So, the Sleeping Prince clearly follows the same basic principles as Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, but with an Eberron twist—it's Sora Katra and the prince of Breland!
The Actual Changeling. As a child, any character could have wandered through a manifest zone, stumbled into a feyspire, or even caught the eye of an archfey and been carried off to Thelanis. A bard could have learned their craft in Pylas Pyrial. A druid's abilities might be tied less to nature and more to the magic of the fey. It might be that a warlock doesn't have a patron, but they're the adopted child of the Lady in Shadow and learned her tricks by watching her. If this is the case, is the character welcome to one day return to Thelanis, or were they cast out of it? Did the Lady in Shadow encourage her child to leave, or did the adventurer escape from the maze of thorns where they were held prisoner (for their own good, of course)? Does the character have a fey lover or rival in Thelanis? With the DM's permission, such a changeling—of any race—could replace their background feature with the Fey Nature feature provided in the sidebar.
Variant Feature: Fey Nature
Due to the time you've spent in Thelanis, you feel more comfortable with the fey than your own kind, and can often find a welcome with them. This provides no protection from hostile fey, but fey that aren't aggressive are more likely to talk with you, and might provide you with safe passage through their territory or even share stories. Lesser fey are also hidden across the world—minor spirits that dwell in cupboards and clearings—and these spirits might emerge to offer you minor aid or advice. Just don't forget that you're always expected to offer payment for services you receive, even if it's just a gift of food or a song.

Xoriat: The Realm of Madness
p199
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
Artist: Marco Ma4ps Bernardini
The touch of Xoriat will warp your flesh and corrupt your mind. The inhabitants of this alien realm seek to transform or destroy all that is natural, and even the slightest contact with it is dangerous.

At least, that's the popular opinion—but it's not entirely true. The plane's title, "Realm of Madness," is a label applied by the people of Eberron based on the perception that close interaction with Xoriat can interfere with your ability to process reality. But illithids call Xoriat the Realm of Revelations... and this may be more accurate. Where Lamannia embodies the natural world, Xoriat instead embodies the unnatural. It's a window into the workings of reality that mortals normally don't see, ones they're ill-equipped to handle. It suggests that time and space, order and chaos, war and peace—all of these are inventions. They're the foundations mortal lives are built on... but what lies under those foundations? What was there before the house was built, and what will come after? Xoriat holds the answers to those questions, and infinitely more as well.

Though the fact is often overlooked, all mortals have a connection to Xoriat. Mortals dream in Dal Quor. Shavarath sparks mortal anger. Mabar feeds mortal shadows, while Irian holds their spark of light. When mortals die, their souls are drawn to Dolurrh. Mortals are influenced by all of the planes, and the influence of Xoriat drives the desire to question reality. It can be a source of inspiration, especially for artists; it helps people challenge their assumptions and see things in an entirely new way. But Xoriat's also the sun that melts the wings of any who draw too close. From a distance, its influence can be a positive force, but mortals who gaze too deeply into Xoriat can lose touch with their native reality, losing the ability to navigate the natural world. So Xoriat is a deeply dangerous place, but the plane itself isn't evil or destructive. It's part of the universal balance, as important as any of the other concepts of the planes. Irian brings life, Lamannia is the blueprint for nature, Daanvi provides guiding order. Xoriat is a glimpse at what lies behind and beyond, of the other ways reality could have been—and of the unseen ways it is.

Universal Properites
To mortal eyes, Xoriat may seem more chaotic than Kythri. However, it's not defined by the idea of chaos; rather, mortals don't understand the logic that guides its changes. Additionally, Kythri's constant change is still always natural: fire and lightning, stone and water. On the other hand, in Xoriat, a tornado might be composed of ink. Each grain in a sandstorm could be a miniature bust of Queen Aurala of Aundair, or a tiny beating heart. It's not simply chaotic; it's unnatural.

Unpredictable Magic. Immediately after a creature casts a spell of 1st level or higher, roll on the Wild Magic Surge table in chapter 3 of the Player's Handbook.
Dangerous Revelations. Whenever a creature finishes a short or long rest, or is reduced to 0 hit points, it must make a DC 14 Charisma saving throw. On a failed save, it's afflicted with a random form of short-term madness (see chapter 8 of the Dungeon Master's Guide). If it later fails this saving throw an additional time, its previous madness effect is replaced with a new one.
Time Is an Illusion. More than any other plane, time is unreliable in Xoriat. Adventurers could be trapped in the Realm of Madness for what feels like a lifetime, then find only a moment has passed on Eberron. It's even possible for them to return to Eberron before they left, potentially becoming stranded in another time, as discussed in the next section.
Strange Reality. The things adventurers rely on—gravity, time, their identity itself—aren't always reliable in Xoriat. When characters enter a new layer, the DM can choose a property from the Properties of Xoriat table. This property could apply the entire time the adventurers are on that layer, or it could change when combat begins, whenever a creature rolls a 1 on a d20, or at any other time the DM chooses. There are no saving throws against these effects, and an effect impacts all creatures in the layer until the DM replaces that property with a new one. In describing a property, don't just describe the effect, but explain how it manifests. Haste and slow reflect a shift in the local flow of time. When creatures can detect thoughts, they can hear the thoughts of others flowing like music all around them, and if they concentrate on a single creature, they can translate the meaning of the melody. Each effect reflects a strange new property of reality in this layer.
Xoriat and the Maze of Reality
p200
There's a logic to the structure of the planes. Irian is the beginning, where new seeds are born. Mabar is the end, consuming all things. Time sometimes moves at different rates in different planes, but it always moves forward... except in Xoriat.

Imagine time as a maze and the Material Plane as a rat moving through it, with the other planes worn as a crown. This is how the Draconic Prophecy works. It doesn't tell you what will happen, because that hasn't been decided yet. It's a roadmap to the maze, revealing that if you take a left turn at "Queen Aurala is assassinated" and then turn right at "Breland becomes a democracy," you'll reach "Sul Khatesh is released from her prison." The Prophecy shows the path you need to take to achieve the outcome you desire—a map to the many possibilities of the future.

But Xoriat isn't bound to the rat. It hovers above the maze. And adventurers could return to the wrong time when they leave it, falling farther back in the maze. They could find themselves in the Empire of Dhakaan, or in the midst of the War of the Mark. And in the process, they could change the future. Perhaps they help Halas Tarkanan win the War of the Mark; the dragonmarked houses are broken and scattered before they ever achieve their current glory, and people with aberrant dragonmarks thrive. With these changes, modern Khorvaire would be a very different place. In doing this, the adventurers have dropped a new rat in the maze. This new rat becomes the Prime Material Plane. It snatches the old rat's crown of planes, becoming the reality where all the planes converge and where time moves forward. But the other rat is still out there—forgotten and lost, huddled in a corner, but still alive. And it's possible that if the adventurers return to Xoriat, they could change their mind; they could find their way back to that original rat, returning it to its role as the Prime Material Plane. So Xoriat gives the possibility for dramatic change—but it's always possible to restore a forgotten past.

This view is critical to understanding the daelkyr. They stand above the maze, but they can also descend into it. They experiment on the rat, changing it. What happens if they make too many changes? It's possible the rat might crawl into a corner to die and a new rat be released: perhaps the old Prime is lost and a new world moves forward. This is what the gith believe happened with their world, as described in the section on Kythri. The gith lived on a world that was once the Prime Material Plane. Now it may just be another rat lost and forgotten in the maze. Should the daelkyr rise and complete their work, it's possible the current Eberron could be torn away from the planes; it would still exist, but as a forgotten shadow of the new central reality that takes its place.

If this doesn't entirely make sense, that's appropriate. Most scholars in Khorvaire would call this theory madness, and so Xoriat receives its name. But others might say that this is in keeping with the myth of the Progenitors. Irian is the beginning, Mabar is the end—and Xoriat could be the point that stands above the journey, the high perch from which the Progenitors could study their work. Xoriat isn't bound by the laws that bind the rest of the planes, and it holds all the ideas that were discarded. Perhaps the Sovereigns didn't entirely build reality, but rather, they sculpted it—chipping things away and dropping them into Xoriat.

This is a metaphysical discussion that most adventurers will never need to worry about. There are three things to take away from it. Xoriat is a point from which history and reality itself can be changed. The daelkyr have changed it an unknown number of times. And from Xoriat, it's possible for adventurers to either change it themselves—or to undo damage they might have done.

Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Denizens
p201
In Xoriat, there are masses of swirling colors, hues never seen on Eberron. There are ripples in space that disrupt time in their wake. There are bursts of powerful emotion that drift across layers. These may well be alive in some way—but there's no way to communicate with them. This section discusses some of the creatures most relevant to adventurers. While the plane might hold other forces that could be considered alive, their thought processes would almost certainly be fundamentally inhuman, and they wouldn't recognize organic beings as life.

The Daelkyr
The daelkyr came to Eberron to corrupt it and transform its people, and they crippled the Dhakaani Empire before being bound in Khyber. Six are known by name, but there are surely others. They remain trapped in Khyber to this day, waiting for the chance to rise and finish the work they began... and perhaps to pave the way for a new reality.

There are no known accounts of mortals traveling to Xoriat—at least, none who returned—so adventurers who do so are likely undertaking a historic journey. And in that journey, they may make a shocking discovery—though the daelkyr may be bound in Khyber, they are also still in Xoriat. Dyrrn the Corruptor, Valaara, Belashyrra—each dwells in a domain in Xoriat, attended by their servants and their armies. This ties to Xoriat's uncanny relationship with time. The daelkyr may be in Xoriat because they haven't left yet, or they might've already been released from their prisons and returned to Xoriat. Again, if time is a maze, the daelkyr stand above it looking down—but at the same time, they are also running in the maze. They can't return to Eberron now, because they're already there; but this may be why they seem unconcerned with their long imprisonment, because they're also watching it all unfold from above. So adventurers could interact with any of the daelkyr in Xoriat, but fighting them there won't impact their actions on Eberron. However, it could help adventurers learn about the weaknesses of the daelkyr, or perhaps obtain tools or weapons to use against them in the future.

Aberrations
The natural inhabitants of the plane are often so alien that mortals don't even recognize them as living things. Most of the aberrations that people are familiar with on Eberron aren't creations of Xoriat itself. Rather, the daelkyr, powers designed to interact with the Material Plane and its with mortals, created these aberrations as their servants, soldiers, and mementos of past conquests. In Eberron, most daelkyr have mixed forces; mind flayers could be found serving any of the great lords. In Xoriat, they're more segregated; beholders dwell in the domain of Belashyrra, and mind flayers in the realm of Dyrrn.

What other terrors do the daelkyr have in Xoriat that they've never unleashed in Eberron? This depends in part on how many other realities the daelkyr have transformed; the mind flayers are relics of the destruction of the gith, just as the dolgrims and dolgaunts are souvenirs of the downfall of Dhakaan.

While aberrations created by the daelkyr are usually dangerous, there are also aberrations generated by the layers themselves. These planar creatures are alien and disturbing, but aren't threatening unless provoked. The Native Aberrations table presents a few examples.

Powers of the Void
The daelkyr aren't the most powerful forces in Xoriat. There are greater powers in the void, spirits so vast and alien that they can only be perceived by the ripples they create in reality. Both the Unseen Citadel and Belashyrra are ideas in the mind of something greater. Do these powers slumber? Do they consciously adjust the rules of their layers? Or are they simply ideas cast aside by the Progenitors, models of reality that were ultimately abandoned? If Xoriat is the realm of discarded concepts, this could be the drive behind the daelkyr's endless quest to disfigure—or perfect—reality.

Layers
Xoriat is a void lacking not only matter, but also space and time, and a mortal creature that enters it effectively ceases to exist. But there are powers in this void, and the layers of Xoriat reflect their thoughts. Each of the daelkyr dwells in a layer, the place that spawned that daelkyr; this layer usually reflects the daelkyr in tone, and it can use its lair actions anywhere in its layer. However, not all of Xoriat's layers can support mortal life; there's a layer where intense gravity crushes any physical creature, and a layer where all matter is transformed into pure thought.

Adventurers need to find portals to move from layer to layer. Portals are unique based on the layer's properties of each layer, and using a portal always has a price. Sometimes the price is paid in memories; the DM sets the emotional tone of the memory ( joy, sorrow, anger), then each player describes the memory their character has lost. With other portals, the price may be knowledge, but this isn't taken from the adventurers—rather, when they pass through the portal, they learn a secret they might have rather not known.

In exploring the layers of Xoriat, it's important to highlight the fundamentally unnatural flavor of the plane. In addition to the Properties of Xoriat table provided earlier with shifting effects that have an impact on gameplay, the Alien Attributes of Xoriat table presents examples of cosmetic details that can be distinctive features of a layer. Beyond that, the layers of Xoriat contain revelations; these can be truths about the adventurers that they don't want to know, or secrets about reality itself. This is discussed in more detail in the section on Xorian Artifacts.

The Unseen Citadel
p202
This is the stronghold and birthplace of the daelkyr Belashyrra. The Lord of Eyes imagined the beholders and brought that vision to life, and the Citadel is home to a host of beholderkin. Tiny floating eyes buzz about like insects. Millipede-like creatures have rows of eyes running down their backs. The true beholders are mostly focused in deep contemplation of specific things, and don't pay attention to outsiders unless they're disturbed. Some study strange paintings. Others watch scrying pools reflecting images of Eberron or other planes. And some examine seemingly mundane objects, such as a rusty iron key, a dead rabbit, or an expensive hat. However, there are a few that patrol the Citadel, watchful for intruders.The surfaces of the Citadel are made from an iridescent material that your eyes can't quite focus on, as if the walls and floor are blurred. There are mirrors spread around the halls. Some run slow and show you younger than they are; others show glimpses of the future. Scrying pools reveal secrets you don't want to know—current events on Eberron, scenes from the past, or the possible future.

The Fields of Thought
This layer is the domain of Dyrrn the Corruptor. Purple fields are bathed in ultraviolet light, and fluorescent sculptures shed eerie dim light. Varr farmers dance as they tend the fields, but what they cultivate are emotions; anyone walking through a field feels a powerful emotion (fear, sorrow, anger, guilt) washing over them. Each field has an outpost containing an elder brain, with a bright line of thought transmitting the emotions to Dyrrn's tower at the heart of the layer.

Dyrrn's tower is made of glowing threads of pure thought intertwined around a massive steel spinal column. This tower is filled with the tools of fleshcrafting. There are pools of blood and canals of amniotic fluid, massive pulsing organs waiting for a purpose, and untended tendrils crawling across the floor. Adventurers might find a chamber that contains half-formed clones of the adventurers themselves... or perhaps the clones are completed, and consider the adventurers to be evil doppelgangers.

The spire amplifles Dyrrn's telepathic abilities, letting it sense all living creatures within the layer. Dyrrn specializes in corruption, and it may challenge adventurers with mental projections, such as people plucked from their memories, who seek to turn them against their allies.

Other Layers
Every daelkyr has a home layer, but there are endless layers of Xoriat, each reflecting a discarded idea or a maddening truth. Consider the following examples.

A House Built from Hate. Each character sees the house's form slightly differently, but they all feel the hate in the walls. Mirrors reflect images of things the viewer hates, and books in the house chronicle the hateful deeds committed by everyone the adventurers know—including each other. The longer the adventurers stay in the houses, the easier it becomes to hate each other... or themselves.
Empty White Space. There's seemingly no end to this endless void of bleak solitude. To proceed, the characters must act out their travel—pretending to travel just as they pretend there is meaning in their lives. If they can keep up the charade, the world they imagine will take shape around them.
A Lush Orchard. The trees grow secrets, while more buzz around in the air like tiny birds. Some of them may be secrets of the adventurers, or those of their enemies. Others are secrets of strangers and secrets about reality. Do the adventurers block their ears, or do they try to listen?
Planar Manifestations
The seals of the Gatekeepers block travel to Xoriat, but there are still many ways the Realm of Madness can affect the world.

Manifest Zones
Manifest zones tied to Xoriat are common in the Shadow Marches, but rare elsewhere. The effects of a Xorian manifest zone are rarely as dramatic as the alien attributes of the plane itself. However, manifest zones may convey one or more of the universal properties of the plane. The most common is the Dangerous Revelations property. People who linger in a Xorian zone often find alien concepts creeping into their brains, instilling strange beliefs, or twisting their sense of reality. These zones can easily produce cults of the Dragon Below; in the Shadow Marches, the Gatekeepers struggle to keep people out of these zones, while Marcher cultists consider them to be sacred sites.

Unpredictable Magic is another common property; such zones often have unnatural flora or fauna, but these effects are unreliable and change with each generation. The properties of Time Is an Illusion and Strange Reality are rare in manifest zones, and may not be active all the time; these effects might only become active when Lharvion is full, or when disturbing rituals are performed.

Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Artist: Tithi Luadthong
Coterminous and Remote
p203
The last time Xoriat was coterminous, the daelkyr brought their armies through the walls of reality and laid waste to the Empire of Dhakaan. The seals crafted long ago by the Gatekeeper druids keep the daelkyr bound in Khyber, but they also keep Xoriat from becoming coterminous. Xoriat's remote phases have no known effect, and like Kythri, they're unpredictable, though the phases tend to come and go far more slowly than Kythri's do. There are no recorded instances of citizens of the Five Nations visiting Xoriat; most scholars believe that the Gatekeeper seals prevent all planar travel... though someone may have secretly built an eldritch machine in a manifest zone, perhaps incorporating illithid brains or the position of the moon Lharvion. What would happen if the adventurers stumbled on a cult of the Dragon Below just as the cult completes its sinister rituals?

Xorian Artifacts
The most common artifacts of Xoriat are the symbiont items created by the daelkyr. Examples of these living items can be found in chapter 7 of this book, as well as in chapter 5 of Eberron: Rising from the Last War. However, adventurers could stumble on artifacts brought to Eberron by the daelkyr in their great incursion—or relics even more ancient. One effect of Xorian items could be to twist time. On a minor level, this could explain the powers of a cloak of displacement; it always shows you a few seconds ahead of your current position. A more powerful artifact could allow travel through time, or reset time in a small region. Does the time tunnel allow a return trip, or are those who use it trapped on the other side?

Xoriat is also known for granting maddening knowledge and physical transformation. Either of these effects could be reflected by supernatural gifts, as presented in chapter 7 of the Dungeon Master's Guide. Here are a few examples:

The character's blood is replaced with a sentient protoplasm that whispers to them while they sleep. It grants the benefits of a blessing of wound closure.
The character gains the blessing of understanding, but they also learn that any time they cast a spell, something dies. When they cast a cantrip, it might be a rodent or a bird. The more powerful the spell, the more significant the death. The caster will likely never see this effect occur, but they know that someone somewhere is paying the price for their magic... and worse, this might be true of all spellcasters.
The character gains the blessing of Valhalla. The spirit warriors it summons are friends of the caster, plucked from the future; the character may not have met all of them yet, but they're people who the character knows or will know. They're returned to the future in an hour or when they drop to 0 hit points... in which case they may die upon being returned to their own time.
Xorian Stories
The seals of the Gatekeepers make Xoriat one of the more difficult planes for adventurers to reach. However, a trip to Xoriat would be a revelatory adventure. Interactions with the denizens of Xoriat are largely limited to the cults of the Dragon Below and the servants of the daelkyr. However, there are a few ways the plane could spawn adventures.

Planar Patron. A warlock with a Great Old One patron could say that their patron isn't simply a daelkyr; rather, it's one of the Powers of the Void within Xoriat itself. Such contact is unprecedented—what is the nature of this connection? It may be that the Power doesn't converse with the warlock, but rather downloads knowledge directly into its mind. A disturbing possibility is that the warlock isn't supposed to be receiving this information; the knowledge stream could be intended for a powerful mind flayer, but the warlock has become linked to this psychic channel. This could provide information about the plans of the illithid's cult, but can the warlock do anything about it?
A Glimpse of the Future. When the adventurers interfere with a ritual of a cult of the Dragon Below, they find themselves three years in the future... and something has gone terribly wrong. Perhaps the Mourning has spread and consumed Breland. Maybe the overlord Sul Khatesh has broken her bonds; under her rule, the warlock-knights of Aundair are conquering the Five Nations. The adventurers must find a way back to their own time—after they learn how to keep this future from coming to pass.
Whispers in the Woods. While the adventurers are in a Xorian manifest zone fighting a cult of the Dragon Below, one of the characters receives a revelation: Merrix d'Cannith will destroy the world in two years. Does it provide any additional information or just this one absolute fact? The character knowsthat this is the truth... but is this an actual glimpse of the future, or is it luring the character down a dark path?