The fur on a beast’s neck stands up straight every night before bed. A brethren child hears whispers whenever she’s alone on the road home. When the rest of Louvain Palace is cozy and warm, a specific spot in a storeroom is ice cold. Ghosts drift at the Beast World’s cosmic edges, one step sideways away.
The Netherworld is a dark mirror of the Beast World. Light is muted and dull, and objects appear as pale facsimiles. Most objects in the Netherworld aren’t real enough to hold or manipulate; they exist only as much as willful creatures have paid attention to them. One strange exception is that most doors are usable—their function and motion are exactly the same every time and their repetitive opening and closing burns a usable double into the Netherworld.
Creatures moving in the Beast World are visible in the Netherworld, but everything is wrong. Spoken words are in the wrong order and faces show inaccurate emotions. Writing is a mishmash of almost-letters; music is slower, and transposed into a somber minor key. This distortion removes meaning from words and can’t be deciphered, even with magic.
The Netherworld is a coterminous world that is accessible from anywhere in the Beast World, but only from there. For different reasons, the Astral Sea has no Netherworld, nor does the Broken World or the Ancestral Homeland.
Ghosts are semi-existent copies of willful creatures that are burned into the Netherworld in moments of extreme emotion. A ghost manifests at the instant of one’s death if they die in shock or a fit of pique, but ghosts in the Netherworld are not the “souls” of the departed. One can also be created by the overwhelming joy of childbirth or the crashing despair of losing a bet. (Casinos are extremely haunted places.)
Persistent repetition also creates a ghost. Rather than “stamping” oneself with an outburst into the background of the world, repeatedly visiting the same place or muttering the same words “rubs” an image into it. Universities, temples, and a regular’s seat at an old bar are often haunted by such ghosts.
Newly manifested ghosts are little more than a repeated performance of their moment of creation. The Netherworld is filled with screaming, translucent children and half-formed apparitions trapped in hysterical laughter. When the outburst that creates a ghost is extraordinarily powerful, it might also manifest with the power to travel or speak with its creator’s voice.
Ghosts are a side effect of a world with willful creatures. Observing a ghost gives it cohesion and substance; they gather attention into themselves to continue existing. Attention is the ghost’s life essence. All are driven by the existential craving for it.
When meeting a ghost, the beginning of the conversation is usually somewhat repetitive. They perform their moment and nothing else. However, it takes shape as one continues to pay it deliberate attention—it remembers things about “who it is”. The memories and mannerisms are accurate copies, as every ghost forms with the full mind of its creator. It simply lacks the means to access it.
Seeking a rival’s ghost to steal secrets is usually a waste of time. Even with lots of attention, an afterimage in the Netherworld is like a version of the person with a severe and single-minded addiction. Everything a ghost does is attention-seeking behavior, and if a ghost knows something an observer wants, it also knows it can get more attention by keeping it to themselves. Moreover, a person’s copy is no more likely to tell their secrets than the genuine article. Ghosts rarely betray their true selves, even when it would make sense to do so.
If a location is haunted, it’s either because ghosts are often created there, or ghosts congregate there to attract attention. A crowded place might seem like the best place to haunt, but a ghost gathers more power from an undistracted, emotionally affected observer. This is the reason for the “haunted house,” an abandoned building lying in wait for meddling kids.
Existence is a constant gamble for a ghost. They can expend their gathered attention to manifest across the veil and into the Beast World—they spend attention to attract attention. The final longshot of a desperate ghost facing oblivion is potentially deadly. A victim who dies of shock or frozen blood can sustain a ghost for decades.
For someone looking to create a magic item, a ghost is an invaluable tool. One of the easiest ways to capture magic in an object is by “opening” its counterpart in the Netherworld and convincing a ghost to inhabit it. The object and the ghost fuse and become one in the Netherworld, either temporarily or permanently. This is achieved through the use of a Covenant Forge, and such forges are perilously haunted.
Making a deal is easier when a ghost’s new home is beautiful or interesting. Masterworks and ancient relics attract lots of attention. Terms are set between the ghost and the crafter, including the term of service and whether the ghost has permission to speak. The most common duration of a ghostly contract is “until the wielder’s death.” A magic item’s rarity and capabilities depend on a combination of the ghost’s capacity to manifest and the creator’s skill with shaping objects in the Netherworld.
The agreement between a ghost and a forge user is called a covenant. When this agreement is struck and the process is complete, the item gains its magic aura and emanates its effect. Part of attuning to a forged magic item is conversing with the ghost within it. The owner of the item learns the covenant’s terms as they attune.
Beasts and brethren who specialize in communicating with ghosts are called witches. Witches are born with an innate connection to the Netherworld or learn the art through study and practice. With the appearance of the Dungeon, witch services have never been in higher demand. Business is booming in the Netherworld.
Witches settle close enough to civilization to be a convenient trip for interested customers, but far enough that their ghostly consorts don’t disturb others. No one likes it when their milk curdles early. Their homes are attract wandering Netherworld denizens, but they’re well-equipped to punish the unruly.
Witches have a complex reputation in the Beast World. Their wards and expertise are an invaluable asset when persistent hauntings become dangerous. However, they’re often blamed when these incidents occur in the first place. Some unsavory witches send their consorts ahead to terrorize a community, before appearing to “rescue” them.
A career of attracting ghostly consorts, subjecting them to one’s disciplined will, and keeping them on a deliberate leash of affection holds a certain mystique. Salacious rumors tend to follow witches regarding the exact nature of their relationship with their consorts. What goes on in that lonely hut? Witches take advantage of this intrigue to drum up business (or just for fun.)
