It is often said that whatever can happen, does happen; somewhere out there. There are, also, many more calamitous happenstances than fortuitous ones. Thus, from these cruel axioms, we see that there are many more doomed worlds out there than living ones. Worlds scourged of all life via natural disaster or malignant design; all that they were and ever could be lost in one fell moment of magnificent destruction. Worlds where no recovery was possible, and no life shall ever again come to be.
What of a world where sun and moon moved into an eternally locked dance, mayhap through cataclysm not entirely natural? A cursed place where the sun lies forever hidden behind the cruel face of one of a trio of malevolent lunae; a world wrapped in perennial darkness. Yet, when the portal opened into this world, a prognosticated desolate field of nighted ice was not beheld; instead the three bright bringers of madness illuminated the ruins of a stone keep surrounding the portal. Beyond this there was only the forest, stretching away as far as the lunae illuminated horizon, twisted and dark, yet not quite so silent as to give lie to the idea of life.
Upon Moonshadow life flourishes; as do things that cannot be called living nor dead; as do things that are only considered botanical in nature because they are neither animal nor mineral. It is clear that other beings once lived upon this world, such do the ruins barely visible in the forest and under ones feet prove. Yet of these beings no other trace remains save marks of struggle, symbols etched deep with fear into decaying stonework and, rarely, small fragments of bone distinct from the specimens found within the other denizens of this place.
There are many doomed worlds; yet it is rare to come upon a world so truly cursed as Moonshadow.