Research About Ancient Sources on Limbo
None of the most notable ancient works on Limbo has survived completely, but three works survive in pieces. Together, they paint a strange picture of a place with no fixed rules.
The Unstable Sphere
The most famous work regarding Limbo is usually translated as The Unstable Sphere. Scholars debate its origin, for it was already widely cited as a lost tome during the days of the Drankorian Empire. Though some claim it is Elvish in origin, few serious scholars believe this theory; instead, it is thought to be relic of the ancient human homeland of Hkar. No complete copies exist, but Marcion of Iridel, a Drankorian arcane cosmologist, collected fragments, and several copies of his translations have survived.
These fragments suggest a place that is totally unstable. No solid ground persists for long; worse, even the air can solidify at a moment’s whim, trapping the unlucky traveler in a tomb of rock or ice or something worse. Though one can travel through the jumbled space of Limbo simply with a thought, sojourners in Limbo are in constant danger of sudden transformations.
This constant shifting makes mapping Limbo impossible. Much of The Unstable Sphere seems to have been discursions on the metacosmological nature of this instability. Was the fundamental geometry of the plane in constant flux, or did instead the material contents of the plane simply transform at whim, creating the appearance of constant flux?
All is not hopeless, though, for the traveler to Limbo. It is recorded that the strong of mind, those with intellects of steel, can hold the plane solid by sheer concentration, freezing in place the endless chaos for hours, days, even years in some exceptional cases.
On Minds and Chaos
Gaius Devarro, who lived in Chardon during the waning days of the Drankorian Empire, and was an early scholar at the Faculty of Metaphysics, collected numerous fragments of tales, poems, and other oddities thought to be the words of those who had traveled to Limbo.
It is from Gauis’ magnum opus on Limbo, On Minds and Chaos, that the most vivid descriptions come. For example, one tale speaks of burning water, that leapt like fire from rock to rock across a jumbled landscape of boulders floating in emptiness, the fire consuming the rock and leaving glittering snow behind, which slowly melted to dust and blew away on the wind. Many of the anonymous writers collected in this work seem to be unable to describe in concrete terms what they saw.
A few fragments speak of more solid things. Sanctuaries, of a kind, held solid by acts of impossible concentration by intellects of iron. Massive rocks floating like icebergs in empty space, never changing, hollowed out into laboratories of transmutation. Impossible towers that twist in space, stretching to pinnacles of elemental power. No tale collected by Gaius speaks with authority on the content of these sanctuaries, however.
The Path of Unmaking
Among the strangest sources on Limbo is a later work, The Path of Unmaking, a translation and commentary produced by an anonymous author in the DR 1250s. Though the name of the author has been lost, it survived intact and several copies can be found in the libraries of the University of Tollen.
The text purports to be a translation and commentary on a hobgoblin ritual codex belonging to a group called the Cult of the Shattered Banner, said to have worshipped the power of chaos itself.
The Path of Unmaking records the initiatory journey of a cultist who sought to master Limbo, described not as a realm to be feared, but as a crucible where “thought is tested and remade in fire without form.” Much of the surviving text concerns the so-called Three Marches, which together describe the practical methods of travel and survival within Limbo. Though couched in symbolic and militaristic language, these sections provide surprisingly practical advice.
The First March, the March of Iron, teaches the initiate to bind form through discipline: “Lock the ranks of the mind; let no thought break formation.” Through unified will and precise focus, the cultist creates a sphere of stability capable of movement, a mental ship constructed of intellect and will, held in form as a buffer against the forces of the plane. This, in the Path of Unmaking, is the least sophisticated and easiest form of travel in Limbo.
The Second March, the March of Arrows, refers to the hidden currents that flow through Limbo’s chaos. Though they have no fixed form, like everything in the plane, a skilled initiate can learn to feel these shifting flows, and carefully shape their mental state to flow with the stream, rather than fight against it.
The Third March, the March of Wounds, speaks of the rifts and fissures scattered across Limbo. The cult’s writings describe these fissures as “breathing gates” that must be entered at the correct moment in their cycle of expansion and collapse. They allow travel across great distances in an instance, but at great risk, for a traveler who cannot hold their destination precisely in their mind will be ripped to pieces, scattered and transformed.