Astral Plane

The Astral Plane is a vast, borderless void existing between planes, a silvery realm without fixed ground, horizon or celestial bodies, where everything is suspended in an endless, weightless expanse. Travellers move not by walking, but by the force of thought alone, able to will themselves in any direction. This makes the plane feel dreamlike, unanchored by material concerns, yet a place of strange wonders and deep mysteries.

Primarily, the plane serves as a highway, for it's environs connect with every other plane of existence in some way or another. Thus, by entering through the Astral Plane, travellers can seek for currents that will bring them to any place in the expanded universe that they may wish to go. This avoids the need to locate gateways or spells, offering a more fluid and expansive route, where a traveler may move between realms in a more gradual, exploratory way, following the flow of the silvery void.

Movement within the Astral Plane is unlike physical travel. There is no need to walk, swim or fly — motion is governed entirely by mental effort. One simply wills themselves in a direction, and they move as though propelled by an unseen force. Speed is largely a matter of focus and experience, and while the mind can push a traveler forward at incredible velocity, it also means that hesitation, distraction or uncertainty can slow or even halt movement entirely. Though objects appear in the void, these cannot be counted as landmarks, for they drift as well, and are not likely to be found again once left behind. Contrary to theories about a "silvery thread," beings enter the plane in body and soul, existing there fully until they find an exit to another plane.

Survival

The fundamental biological needs that govern life on the Prime Material Plane — such as eating, drinking, sleeping and even aging — are entirely suspended in the Astral Plane. Travellers do not suffer from exhaustion and do not age. Primary threats come from outside forces — hostile entities like githyanki and other predators or the psychological toll of being lost in an infinite, unstructured void.

Yet while a traveller need not struggle to stay alive, they must stay purposeful. The real danger is not physical death by starvation or exhaustion but mental detachment, losing oneself in endless drifting or becoming so detached from one's former life that returning feels meaningless. Without physical needs to drive motivation, purpose, identity and emotional grounding become the defining struggles of an extended stay in the Astral Plane. Thus, adventurers, planar travelers or exiles who find themselves here must contend with the question of why they continue moving at all. If they abandon the desire to return, they become a drifting mind without purpose, gradually losing all sense of self, until they are either claimed by an outside force, assimilated into the void or simply forgotten by time itself. There are many such beings that travellers may find, but with these communication is impossible, because their minds have unraveled into pure, unfocused thought, stripped of memory, language and identity, leaving them as hollow remnants of consciousness that drift aimlessly, unable to recognise others or form coherent responses.

Hulks

Not only mortals, but the gods too have allowed themselves to drift into this form of obscurity — and because their true forms are immense and fabricated of more than just flesh, their bodies tend to petrify into enormous floating hulks. Frozen in the posture of their final thoughts, these eerie monuments create a a sense of profound unease, capable of causing characters who dare to enter and explore within their petrified bodies to go mad, as their minds become entangled with the lingering echoes of a consciousness that refuses to fully fade. Thoughts not their own creep into their minds — fragments of lost divinity, flashes of overwhelming sorrow or the oppressive weight of divine regret, rage or resignation. Some explorers claim to hear whispers, indecipherable at first, yet growing clearer the longer they remain.

Yet they are repositories of incomprehensible materials, infused with the lingering divine essence and celestial composition of their former selves. Their bodies are not composed of mere stone and flesh, but of divine alloys, celestial metals and arcane substances that are impossible to find elsewhere in the multiverse. Mithril veins may run through the petrified bones of a fallen war god, so dense and infused with latent power that they hum with a vibration that resonates across the Astral void. Adamantium deposits, unbreakable and shimmering with the reflections of past battles, may be found within the great armored exoskeleton of a deity once worshipped as the protector of civilizations. Orcrest, a metal rumored to exist only in legend, might be found forming vast crystalline structures within the shattered skulls of knowledge-gods, the very fabric of their wisdom congealed into a mineral form.

The githyanki, notorious for their control over astral space, are said to have claimed certain god-husks as mines, working tirelessly to extract the impossible wealth within. Yet even they work cautiously, their minds tempered against existant threats — yet rumours persist of entire mining crews vanishing without a trace, their minds unraveled or absorbed by the god's lingering consciousness.

Entities

Because the Astral Plane is timeless and without natural decay, threats that emerge within its boundless void are often persistent, ancient and deeply entrenched in the nature of the plane itself. The most infamous among these are the githyanki, astral warlords and raiders who have adapted to the plane's endless expanse, using it as a base from which to strike against both Prime Material worlds and rival planar factions. Their fortress-cities, constructed atop vast fragments of broken worlds, serve as staging grounds for their conquests, bristling with stolen knowledge, war machines and the remains of civilizations long since plundered and forgotten.

These, however, are only one force among many that lurk here. The plane harbours entities that defy reason, creatures that exist not as physical beings but as manifestations of thought, will and emotion, drawn to those who travel the void. Some of these entities are psychic parasites, things that latch onto travelers' minds, burrowing into their subconscious, feeding on their memories, fears and ambition, until their hosts become nothing more than empty, drifting husks. Others are thought-formed creatures, born from the echoes of dreams, nightmares and divine regrets left behind in the plane's endless silence. Some scholars speculate that particularly powerful emotions — such as unresolved grief, blind hatred or overwhelming guilt — can take shape here, condensing into sentient phantoms that seek to impose their will upon intruders. These creatures do not exist in a biological sense, nor do they have material needs, but they are driven by the obsessions and concepts that birthed them, making them as unpredictable as they are dangerous.

More terrifying still are the ancient predators that have made the Astral their hunting ground since time immemorial. Titanic behemoths move through the plane with nightmarish patience, have been known to swallow entire vessels whole, trapping their crews in internal void-prisons where even time ceases to function. Some speculate that even older horrors drift in the deepest reaches of the plane, things that were never meant to be seen, never spoken of and never understood — vast intelligences formed of raw, unfiltered thought, lurking in the silence, waiting for something, or someone, to disturb them.

See also,
Planes of Existence
Unreality (sage field)