(RP NOBLES can only be accessed if the God is in no other area at the same time: these places are metaphysically deadly to the point where the God cannot afford to shift his consciousness around. Usually there is great threat and award within the RP NOBLE, sufficient incentive for the God to think the risk is worth it..

Note: While the Realm of Rivers is an RP NOBLE, the places it leads to - such as the Kingdom of Apath - might not be. Once the God leaves the Realm of Rivers and reaches his destination, he may exist within the Realm Supernatural again.)

The Realm of Rivers - a shadowy underworld that rests between the Realm Supernatural and the Gnarled Abyss, caught under the influence of both. It is where the dead souls of all creatures go to rest, whether in their own personal hell or their strangest heaven, or caught within the hundreds of rivers and lakes that span the place. It is a place of coldness and of light, a place that follows no particular laws or even conventions.. once the sole word of the Primordial known as the Watcher was the only law that existed, but since his death only the sinister, bone-eating Ahemait can navigate the treacherous currents of the place, and even then with some difficulty..

The Realm of Rivers must reach into every world in order to claim the souls of those who have departed the earthly worlds, and thus one who has befriended - or reached an agreement - with one of the Ahemait might travel through the shadowy place in order to exit on the other side - in any realm or place of their choosing, Yggdrasil - and good luck - permitting. The trip is never an easy one, and many have crawled out of the Realm of Rivers with their sanity in tatters.

It is said that if a being is killed, their soul must be ferried to their final destination, and that if a particularly courageous living being can reach the soul before it has reached wherever it is going, it can be saved and the individual represented.. it is claimed that the God Orpheus was the first to undergo this immense trial, but he never spoke or wrote of it, and the actual act is called the Sin of Orpheus for this reason. It can bring even those who have encountered the Final Death - which all but the most wondrous life-magic cannot ever hope to achieve.

A magician can learn how to access the Realm of Rivers if they have Degree Four Sorcerous Power; Degree Five Sorcerous Power is required to build a permanent gate to the shadowy place.

As Hirsu inhaled, he felt nothing. Nothing at all..

.. save the coldness. It was so very cold. Hirsu almost tore his hand away from the chilled, dead thing that belonged to the smoker of the sacred herbs. His bones hurt. The light seemed to disappear altogether, bathing the room in darkness.

Hirsu noted that he was standing up, knee deep in water. No one was next to him, yet he could still feel the hand. It was unpleasant. Perspiration drenched him.

A match was lit.

Hirsu saw the grinning face of the smoker of the secret herbs, he shuddered. The face looked like a skull..

"Welcome to death, my friend," said the smoker.

Hirsu shivered despite himself. His grip on the smoker's hand tightened, and he shakily nodded. This place bothered him greatly, and he could not deny that. It was an uncomfortableness that creeped along every vein and artery of his being, and he surmised this feeling would neither lessen nor pause at any point during his visit here.

Hirsu enacted a minor spell, ordering his mind to stay focused and calm. He breathed deeply, and exhaled slowly.

"All right. Let's move on to the royal palace."

"Yes," said the smoker of the sacred herbs. His voice sounded distant and pained. "This place is not good for mortal men such as us. We must wade through this waters."

The smoker started on, walking through the freezing cold for some time, his teeth clattering loudly. Soon, he and Hirsu stumbled upon a beach carved entirely of ebony. The beach was illuminated by thousands of small, glowing crustacean-mushrooms - a cross between fungi and crab. The image made Hirsu shudder.

"We should rest here," said the smoker. "I shall consult the maps available to me. The features of this place change according the tides of the dead.."

Hirsu pondered using his divine power to make the mortal more comfortable, or speed his recovery, but was uncertain about its effects in this place. So he decided to wait, trudging through the the freezing waters with his teeth clenched together, his face grim.

Hirsu welcomed the dead beach, then asked the question he had been pondering. "Would it be safe for me to ward you with a few minor life spells before we set out once more? Or would such magic react negatively here, or perhaps attract unwanted attention?"

"I.. am not sure," said the smoker of sacred herbs. "Perhaps it is not wise. We should not disrupt the schedules of the Eaters of Bone. Simply by living and being here we bring great insult, as coupled with great need as it might be. Typically, I walk with the markings of the herb of the dead, but I have lost my power with that herb. In a great test, I faltered, letting my cowardice rule me, and the herb listens no more.. so now I must use my knowledge without the marks."

The smoker picked up a clump of the glowing mushrooms.

"These are not poisonous," he said, "And yet the light the way. They will help." He gestured over to a wide tunnel, leading downwards. There was no other way off the small, rocky beach, besides swimming, and Hirsu shuddered at the thought. "We need to enter the tunnel," said the smoker of sacred herbs. "This is not good. The tunnel belongs to the entrance to the underworld, and we are already here. A bad omen."