Friday, 6 March 2026

Pale as a Ghost in the Afternoon

 


I like the moon, and moons, as a feature of RPG adventures and settings. A while ago, I wrote that: 

The moon has played an exceptionally important role in the development of the human imagination. The sun gives life; we know this intuitively, and we have long worshipped it as a result. But the moon is different. It stands there in the heavens and seems to suggest to us that our world, the human world, and the sun that gives it warmth and light, are not all that exists in creation. It calls for an explanation. It seems to have its own, cold and pale, source of light. It presents us with mysteries, at times concealing its face and at times revealing it, and sometimes looming larger or even changing its colour. Looking at it carefully, one can discern features on it, which to some cultures resembles a face, to others a rabbit, to others a woman carrying sticks. It is trite to call it 'otherworldly', but that is how even the ancients seem to have thought of it. Is it possible to imagine that human beings would have come up with science fiction if the moon did not exist? 

To the hardened SF enthusiast, the moon is old hat; we have even been there. But in a fantasy, or apocalyptic, or 'dying earth' setting, the moon can be anything. Anything can live there; any rules of physics can apply; its pale white surface could conceal any kind of structure or environment one would wish...

I think the image I had in mind here, as is generally the case when I (or anybody else) envisages the moon, was of the moon at night. But of course, the moon is just as often visible during the day, appearing faint and almost translucent in the blue of the sky.

This calls to mind an altogether different image of life there. Whereas the night-time moon looks bright, cold, and full of magic and puissance, the day-time moon looks somehow both elegant and haunted - lighter (in the sense of lack of mass) and less substantive, more cloud-like than rocky.

In a book of children's poems by Shirley Hughes she describes the moon as 'pale as a ghost in the afternoon', and this conjures in the mind - or, at least, in my mind - an idea of the moon as a ghost itself. Once there was an actual moon, but it has been destroyed, perhaps by the Gods or by powerful magic. And now only its ghost remains.

This seems like it should be part of a fantasy setting, but I can't think of one - I have some vague recollections of vanished moons being an aspect of Eberron, but that's not quite the same thing. Perhaps this is a genuinely novel idea, and I am immediately struck by various thoughts:

  • Perhaps the ghost-moon is imbued with a consciousness, and somehow communicates with people on the world below, or even functions for a particular specialist class of priests or magic-users as a means of scrying or soothsaying (or as a medium with the dead), who offer 'gifts' of some kind in return for its aid.
  • Peharps the ghost-moon is where the dead go when they are dead, and people from the world can go there to try to find lost loves ones.
  • Perhaps the ghost-moon was densely populated and when it was destroyed all of its inhabitants became undead. Perhaps these undead visit the world from the ghost-moon to haunt it.
  • Perhaps the ghost-moon was once a palace, and it is now possible to go there and bring back ethereal treasures or magicks from the dead civilisation that it was once home to.
What else might be true of the ghost-moon, and what role might it play in a campaign setting?

10 comments:

  1. If you're not worldbuilding by fucking up your moon, what are you doing?

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    1. Most heartly agree, excellent point, touche!

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  2. Does the ghost-moon have phases, and if so, what are their effects on the manifestation of lycanthropic symptoms in infected humans (and other sentient humanoids, if applicable (like Gnolls/Ghuuna))?

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    1. Nice - excellent extra layer of complexity.

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  3. This brought back memories. My family loved that Shirley Hughes poem when I was a child, and we'd often point and say "pale as a ghost in the afternoon" when we saw the moon in daytime...

    The existence of the ghost moon implies the existence of ghost tides. At regular intervals, when her pull is at its strongest, one can walk along the beach among spectral eels and shoals of drifting, translucent fish, even though the waves have yet to reach you. You might even find a drowned mariner there, bobbing calmly in thin air with his eyes upturned to heaven. The moon is dead, but the sea remembers, and its children rise to mourn her.

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    1. I'm so glad you made that comment - I love Shirley Hughes and my daughters have both been raised on her books and poems. They have lost none of their charm.

      Ghost tides - love it.

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  4. The moon is indeed a source of magic and was once powerful, lending aid to its acolytes and priests. But the moon was gentler and more coy than the sun. Her adherents were likewise shy and secretive. One year, a small star began to pursue the moon. It was erratic, coming now near and now hiding among the stars in another constellation.

    But always it was growing brighter.

    Then we began to notice: the moon's glow was softening. Even at full on a clear night, she did not illumine the glades as she ought. It was not hard to see that this heavenly newcomer was to blame. It grew in size, swelling with arrogance as it danced to and fro in the sky.

    Today, the interloper takes over some nights as the only moon, and when our dear Luna returns, she is pale and faded, a phantom of her former self. Her acolytes are powerless to help, while the mercurial, red moon casts all into chaos. Storms, tides, and the darkness of empty night have become capricious and bold.

    The red priests set up altars and conduct secret rituals in the night. Some say they even go to the Temples of the Sun and watch the faithful come and go with disdainful stares. The king ought to do something. And what of his seers and viziers? Oh, for one of the mages of old! These charlatans who scurry about the city in their black and gold robes lock their doors at night like the rest of us. Darkness indeed reigns.

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  5. Re: the last thought on your bullet list, the Moon is famously where lost things go in Orlando Furioso; Astolph of England goes there in the prophet Elijah's flaming chariot, which he borrows from John the Baptist in the Garden of Eden – Ariosto is worth reading, incidentally – to retrieve Roland's lost wits. It seems to me that that's a *great* hook for a moon-palace for PCs to want to travel to, and it fits with the idea of a dead civilization as well – surely if everything about that civilization was lost and forgotten, it would be found entire on the moon?

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    1. Yes, that's a really nice concept. Especially the idea of a lost civilisation turning up on the moon since that's where lost things go...

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