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In terms of physics, the afterlife is impossible to comprehend. The Euclidian laws and simple rules of reality are completely ignored or are broken once one leaves the Skinlands behind them. So to explain what the geography of the Shadowlands is like, one must give some room for miscalculations and suppositions.
The first place a Wraith finds herself is in the Shadowlands proper. Note that there’s the Shadowlands we are talking about here and then the one many also coined the entire realm of death with; the latter is not really the Shadowlands. Some people just feel it is easier to call the entire realm of death such for the sake of simplicity. For the sake of argument, assume that the term Shadowlands means the decaying reflection of the land of the living. The Shadowlands looks just like our world. As a matter of fact, it is our world, and it is not. We told you this was hard to explain, didn’t we? Whatever objects exist in the Skinlands has a mirror reflection in the Shadowlands. The Shadowlands can almost be called the empty space between the Skinland objects, yet it is more than that. The Shadowlands, despite looking just like the Skinlands, has some important differences to make note of.
The first is the slight tinge of decay in things. Wraiths can sense death and the slow entropy of the cosmos. It is a sad and sometimes frustrating daily reminder of their existence. The decay normally is none too pronounced; paint is slightly chipped, water tinged with a little rust, wood warped ever so slightly. Around Nihils, the gateways into the Tempest and batteries of raw Angst, the decay gets more and more pronounced the closer you get to it. The distance of the heavy decay is different. Some Nihil-Rot fills only a small area around the Nihil itself, yet some have been reported to have a few hundred feet of ‘Rot around it (and usually a few smaller Nihils).
The second major difference is the lack of any sky as we know it in the Skinlands. A heavy fog chokes the sky, blotting out the heavenly bodies and casting the Underworld in an eternally dismal twilight.
The third are the Shadowland structures one sees when one wanders about. Structures that are no longer present, but contained enough Pathos when they were destroyed, tend to cross over much like a Wraith does. A structure that is not saturated with Pathos, in that the emotional investment in the building isn’t there, never appears in the Shadowlands except some very rare instances where there is a vague hint of the building that once was. Any structure with enough Pathos crosses over when it is destroyed, whether it is a house, a bridge, or a statue, much in the same way relics cross the Shroud. When a new structure is built on the spot in the Skinlands, the two seem to meld together like one photograph superimposed on the other. Wraiths can not use their immaterial state to pass through Shadowland structures like they can the ones that exist in the Skinlands. The Shadowland structures are as solid to them as the Skinland structures are to the living.
Directly under the “topside” Shadowlands, below the sewer systems and subway tunnels, one finds the Labyrinth. No one knows why the Labyrinth exists, and to what purpose it serves, but since Ferrymen are often spotted moving throughout its dim corridors no one really questions too loudly. The Labyrinth is made up of an infinite number of tunnels and chambers. The walls are carved with catacomb-like niches, while the floor is made up of moldering earth bristling with jagged pieces of broken tombstones and bones. Some areas may resemble some other burial structure or like locations, from charnel houses to rust-riddled morgues. Any stairs leading down too far or any slope that traverses too deep runs the risk of ending up in the Tempest. The waters of the Tempest are surprisingly calm (as far as the Tempest goes) in the Labyrinth, but any Wraith entering the water is caught in the iron grip of the undertow and rushed out into the violent Tempest proper. Worse still, some of these pools are littered with floating debris that become lethal obstacles in such an event.
No one knows how one winds up in the area called the Wastelands, but most do find themselves there. The Wastelands, also known as the Junkyard, have some qualities of the Labyrinth and some of the Tempest. Should a Wraith find herself lost in the Wastelands on several occasions chances are the place will look different every time. Many of Stygia’s finest philosophers speculate that the Wasteland is made up of the subconscious fears of the dead and the living, a realm of nightmares and terror. No matter what the realm looks like, it is usually very empty, in a sense. Rarely will the trapped spirit see another soul except those she came in with, but there is often the sound of “life” here and there. A Junkyard that looks like the halls of a darkened insane asylum might hear the wails of the tortured patients and the cruel whispers of the psychologists but never see anyone, even if every cell could be checked. A maze of abandoned cars in an actual junkyard (some who have been to such a place laugh at the bitter irony) might creak and moan, but nothing will be there to cause such a sound. Regardless of what it looks like, the Wastelands are similar in some ways to the Shadowlands: there is only a twilight fog for a sky and everything is decayed, only infinitely worse than in the Shadowlands. Nihils are very common in the Junkyards. So are Spectres…
Overlaying yet outside of the Shadowlands is the chaotic Tempest. All of the Earth’s oceans and major lakes are outlets for the Tempest, so traveling by sea is hardly ever a good idea to a Wraith (thus they Skinride). The Tempest is at once the mightiest storm ever and the most turbulent sea. Hurricane force winds hurl balls of ice-like plasm, while the violently churning sea boils with the impact of blindingly heavy rain. There are some places of refuge in this horrible place. Byways are paths of calm that cut through the storm, making it safer to travel than simply plunging headlong into the Specter-haunted waters. Byways can appear as a number of things- rusty train tracks, a pitted stone road, as cluttered and moist rock tunnel. Regardless of the appearance, all Byways share the same qualities: they’re safer to travel through the tempest, but still subject to its fury. The train tracks might sway and buckle violently in the buffeting, howling winds. The pitted road might be slippery and dangerous from gigantic waves crashing over its sides. The caverns might he fraught with ravening Spectres out to torment lost wraiths. Regardless, Byways are not safe; they are simply safer.
Another type of safe haven is the scattered islands that rise up out of the sea. Many do not have an equivalent in the Skinlands, so their nature sometimes resembles nothing earthly. Some Wraiths may live on these islands, either as refugees, prisoners, or criminals. Others are eerily empty, only the howl of the wind and the wails of distant Spectres to accompany the foolish visitor.
One island in the sea is known by many, and its name is Stygia. Stygia is the haven of Charon, the boatman who plies the River Styx. It is here that many older Wraiths reside, long since having lost interest in the Skinlands, yet too stubborn to fade away. The island is gigantic, and the buildings that clutter it even more larger than life. Famous buildings that have been destroyed but still remembered by many (for at least a century or two) appear in Stygia. As there are no longer many open spaces, some buildings appear on top of an older building fusing together in some bizarre fashion. The courts of the Deathlords, Charon’s underlings, can be found here, clogged with masses of distraught or angry Wraiths seeking justice in the afterlife. The Ferrymen, Charon’s allies and aids, shuttle visitors to the fabulous city and back to the Shadowlands upon their famous skiffs for two coins of any kind (some even accept video arcade tokens as payment!).
Far beyond the perils of the Tempest a lucky Wraith might find the Distant Shores (also known as The Far Shores to some). These shores are supposedly the shores of Paradise and Hell. Wraiths of different religions argue over whose Paradise and Hell it is, though no one knows for sure. Wraiths that land upon these shores do not come back. From the Tempest, Paradise is a pleasant white beach that leads up to verdant meadows and gentle, flower-blanketed hills. The stormy skies of the Tempest are but wisps of black clouds dreamily floating over a distant sunset. Hell is nothing but blackened, blasted jagged cliffs. Distantly one can make out a red glow on the horizon, possibly volcanoes or something even more perilous. The Tempest’s clouds still churn in the sky, but no rain falls. Both Paradise and Hell are avoided by the swarming Spectre hordes that plague the Tempest.
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