Aucturn
OCK-tern
The sun is little more than a glimmer above Aucturn’s poisonous skies. From a distance, the planet actively defies classification—observers disagree on the planet’s appearance and diameter, although its mass remains fairly constant. To remote scanners, Aucturn is sometimes a gas giant with striations of swirling crimson atmosphere, while at other times, it is little more than a lifeless rock with a thin, clear membrane of air. This inconsistent appearance is a planetary-scale illusion caused by some unknown magical effect; whether it is generated by Aucturn itself or precipitates the strangeness of the world is a hotly debated topic among occult scholars.
When starships approach orbit, the unappealing truth of Aucturn is quickly revealed to them: a strangely organic but mostly inhospitable world swathed in a poisonous, yellowish-green atmosphere. The planet swells and shrinks over time, its surface roiling and sliding along with oceans of inky muck. Alarmist observers posit that the planet expands and contracts like a massive breathing organism or pulsing tumor, and many of the cultists who inhabit Aucturn eagerly agree, asserting that their world is the waiting womb of a Great Old One ready to burst upon the solar system and usher in a terrible age of darkness.
Life is stunted and toxic on Aucturn, and bizarre mutations abound—many offworlders suffer horrid transformations after only a few days on the surface. Those with merely physical changes are fortunate, for Aucturn warps the mind and drains sanity even more swiftly than it alters physical matter. Most of Aucturn’s inhabitants, both native and immigrant, have long held their own malignant purposes. The planet was once a neutral meeting ground between worshipers of the Outer Gods and representatives of the aberrant Dominion of the Black. Long before the Gap, these forces declared war on each other, and the forces of the Dominion were, for the most part, ejected from Aucturn. The cultists of the Outer Gods are not wholly in control of their planet, however, as pockets of Dominion resistance remain, and unaligned indigenous monsters prey eagerly on both sides.
When starships approach orbit, the unappealing truth of Aucturn is quickly revealed to them: a strangely organic but mostly inhospitable world swathed in a poisonous, yellowish-green atmosphere. The planet swells and shrinks over time, its surface roiling and sliding along with oceans of inky muck. Alarmist observers posit that the planet expands and contracts like a massive breathing organism or pulsing tumor, and many of the cultists who inhabit Aucturn eagerly agree, asserting that their world is the waiting womb of a Great Old One ready to burst upon the solar system and usher in a terrible age of darkness.
Life is stunted and toxic on Aucturn, and bizarre mutations abound—many offworlders suffer horrid transformations after only a few days on the surface. Those with merely physical changes are fortunate, for Aucturn warps the mind and drains sanity even more swiftly than it alters physical matter. Most of Aucturn’s inhabitants, both native and immigrant, have long held their own malignant purposes. The planet was once a neutral meeting ground between worshipers of the Outer Gods and representatives of the aberrant Dominion of the Black. Long before the Gap, these forces declared war on each other, and the forces of the Dominion were, for the most part, ejected from Aucturn. The cultists of the Outer Gods are not wholly in control of their planet, however, as pockets of Dominion resistance remain, and unaligned indigenous monsters prey eagerly on both sides.
Geography
Aucturn’s geography is mutable and inhospitable. Landmasses are composed of rubbery soil or chalky stone that grows only stunted, mutated vegetation. The planet’s oceans are vast, heaving masses of black sludge through which unseen leviathans swim. Poisonous gases constitute Aucturn’s atmosphere, although the specific nature of the poison varies from place to place—in some places, the poison is merely a thin hallucinogenic mist, while in others it gathers in a clinging, soupy neurotoxin.
Aucturn’s geography twists and morphs as the planet heaves and contracts, creating entire mountain ranges of fleshlike hummocks or draining away rivers. This state of flux can change the landscape in a matter of moments, but usually occurs over a handful of months or years. Despite this, several common features typically persist in Aucturn’s geography.
Aucturn has a large ocean around its southern pole called the Undulating Sea. Although the size of this ocean varies, it always surrounds a frigid polar cap and contains several settlements along its northern shores—most significantly the Citadel of the Black. Other oceans slither about as the planet writhes; sometimes these bodies of liquid connect to the Undulating Sea, but most often they form gigantic lakes with their own coastal settlements.
A large mountain range called the Twisting Peaks runs roughly northwest to southeast across much of Aucturn’s surface. These stony, gray mountains are indescribably ancient and weathered by Aucturn’s acidic winds. The mountains shield the most severe weather, sheltering a vast field of the hardy poppies that grow to the south of the mountains. The highest of the Twisting Peaks are carved into stone fortresses, drawing lightning from passing storms and flickering with enticing greenish lights.
A smaller mountain range called the Chalkmounds stretches across Aucturn’s northern hemisphere. The stone of these peaks is porous and crumbles easily. This strange stone absorbs toxins from the atmosphere, making the Chalkmounds a more hospitable place for humanoid habitation, but the stone cannot be quarried without exuding this concentrated poison. Furthermore, due to some ancient and forgotten disaster, the Chalkmounds are pocked with massive blast craters and emit significant background radiation. Hardy settlers live in the Chalkmounds, as the air is frequently breathable, but their rate of mutations is incredibly high.
Aucturn’s geography twists and morphs as the planet heaves and contracts, creating entire mountain ranges of fleshlike hummocks or draining away rivers. This state of flux can change the landscape in a matter of moments, but usually occurs over a handful of months or years. Despite this, several common features typically persist in Aucturn’s geography.
Aucturn has a large ocean around its southern pole called the Undulating Sea. Although the size of this ocean varies, it always surrounds a frigid polar cap and contains several settlements along its northern shores—most significantly the Citadel of the Black. Other oceans slither about as the planet writhes; sometimes these bodies of liquid connect to the Undulating Sea, but most often they form gigantic lakes with their own coastal settlements.
A large mountain range called the Twisting Peaks runs roughly northwest to southeast across much of Aucturn’s surface. These stony, gray mountains are indescribably ancient and weathered by Aucturn’s acidic winds. The mountains shield the most severe weather, sheltering a vast field of the hardy poppies that grow to the south of the mountains. The highest of the Twisting Peaks are carved into stone fortresses, drawing lightning from passing storms and flickering with enticing greenish lights.
A smaller mountain range called the Chalkmounds stretches across Aucturn’s northern hemisphere. The stone of these peaks is porous and crumbles easily. This strange stone absorbs toxins from the atmosphere, making the Chalkmounds a more hospitable place for humanoid habitation, but the stone cannot be quarried without exuding this concentrated poison. Furthermore, due to some ancient and forgotten disaster, the Chalkmounds are pocked with massive blast craters and emit significant background radiation. Hardy settlers live in the Chalkmounds, as the air is frequently breathable, but their rate of mutations is incredibly high.
Fauna & Flora
Most of Aucturn’s native creatures are monstrous and vicious. Light-absorbing bryrvaths lurk in Aucturn’s shadowed places and assail intruders with soul-rending coruscations of color. Gugs—split-armed giants with massive vertical mouths—infest tunnels and warrens beneath the planet’s surface. Oily, ooze-like behemoths called shoggoths lurk within Aucturn’s seas, occasionally roiling onto land and uttering their madness-inducing howls. Malignant psychic ghosts that are visible only as flashes of pale lights and unblinking eyes stalk the landscape. But by far, the most common of Aucturn’s native creatures are the orocorans, semi-intelligent predators with mosquito-like proboscises and temperaments who sup from the planet’s ichor springs and spend their time in narcotic stupors. Other denizens of Aucturn consider individual orocorans a nuisance, but the creatures pose a serious hazard in large swarms.
Small cells of agents of the Dominion of the Black hold control over small biotech factories, remote caves, and other isolated locations on the planet. They avoid further conflict with the worshipers of the Outer Gods while they rebuild their strength and contact their allies floating in deep space between the stars. Unfortunate explorers who come across these hidden enclaves find that the Dominion fiercely protects its secret lairs and eagerly grasps for fodder for its horrid experiments. These agents most often include the magic-wielding neh-thalggus and yah-thelgaads, as well as the technical-minded deh-nolos.
Despite Aucturn’s dangerous creatures, poisonous atmosphere, and scarce resources, some humanoids still make the planet their home. For the most part, these people—mostly humans and ysoki—have either pledged their lives to the cults of the Outer Gods or are recluses with only a tenuous grasp of reality. These humanoids usually live in sealed buildings with oxygen generators and wear respirators outdoors, although some settlements use alternative methods to provide resident humanoids with comfort, such as the ancient air-cleansing machines of the Citadel of the Black or the natural purifying effect of the Chalkmounds. Despite dealing with the atmosphere, these humanoids remain susceptible to the eldritch energies that bathe the planet. Residents usually bear strange mutations, such as chitinous plates, withered limbs, or extra eyes, that may render them unrecognizable as members of their original species.
Small cells of agents of the Dominion of the Black hold control over small biotech factories, remote caves, and other isolated locations on the planet. They avoid further conflict with the worshipers of the Outer Gods while they rebuild their strength and contact their allies floating in deep space between the stars. Unfortunate explorers who come across these hidden enclaves find that the Dominion fiercely protects its secret lairs and eagerly grasps for fodder for its horrid experiments. These agents most often include the magic-wielding neh-thalggus and yah-thelgaads, as well as the technical-minded deh-nolos.
Despite Aucturn’s dangerous creatures, poisonous atmosphere, and scarce resources, some humanoids still make the planet their home. For the most part, these people—mostly humans and ysoki—have either pledged their lives to the cults of the Outer Gods or are recluses with only a tenuous grasp of reality. These humanoids usually live in sealed buildings with oxygen generators and wear respirators outdoors, although some settlements use alternative methods to provide resident humanoids with comfort, such as the ancient air-cleansing machines of the Citadel of the Black or the natural purifying effect of the Chalkmounds. Despite dealing with the atmosphere, these humanoids remain susceptible to the eldritch energies that bathe the planet. Residents usually bear strange mutations, such as chitinous plates, withered limbs, or extra eyes, that may render them unrecognizable as members of their original species.
Remove these ads. Join the Worldbuilders Guild
Comments
Author's Notes
Gleefully pillaged from Starfinder's The Pact Worlds!