The Realm of Outland

“I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their horror unheeded,
Without knowledge, or lustre, or name.”
~Lovecraft

The realm between realms, the crossroads of the universe, the home of the elder gods, the Dreamlands. It is a place out of time and out of space. A place of warped reality, confused dimensions, and maddening creation. It’s earth is poison, its waters corrupt. Its sky a jaundiced yellow. At night strange stars whirl chaotically about the sky bending the world below to their whimsical fate, while a fat, pale moon sits low on the horizon, feeling almost close enough to touch. During the day a dim, but hot red sun crawls across the sky scorching everything beneath it gaze. Monsters and worse stalk the landscape, which is dotted with alien cities and the magnificent relics of aeons of humanity all existing in timeless wonder side by side. Endless deserts, mysterious swamps, deep black seas, and frozen wastes abound alongside even stranger landscapes that defy human understanding. Weather is unpredictable and savage. Blistering storms carrying arcane forces scour the land leaving great changes in their wake. Change – which is the only constant in this place without the laws that govern other, more sane, realms.

The Elder gods, the great old ones, those beings of inscrutable and acute evil that are bound out of normal reality live here and rule with impunity. Their servitors, the Chthonic Dukes rule their territory from city states whose population and culture are bent to the will of their disturbing and alien minds.

Despite all this, there is a culture to this place, and a type of order that comes from accepting that nothing is given for truth. Merchants walk the land, trade continues, things eat, or are eaten, things grow, or are grown. Birth is given, lives taken, there are alliances, and politics, there is life, in it’s own way. It is a dangerous, brutal, and maniacal life – but it is life nonetheless.