Few realms invoke the sheer terror and dread that Draethor does. Known across Erkovia as the Infernal Realm, Draethor is a plane of torment, where the souls of the damned are sent to face eternal punishment. It is a place where darkness, fire, and despair intertwine, ruled by beings of unimaginable power and cruelty. This hellish domain is not merely a figment of myth or folklore, as some may wish to believe, but a very real plane that exists beneath the fabric of our world, locked away from mortal eyes by ancient seals.
Draethor is a labyrinthine place of many layers, each more terrifying than the last. It is said that upon the death of a corrupted soul, they are pulled into the Tribunal Plains, the gateway to this infernal abyss. There, they face judgment before the dreaded Keepers of Fate, who weigh their sins and send them to the layer that reflects the darkness of their deeds. Once condemned, there is no return, no escape, only endless suffering that mirrors the crimes committed in life.
Ruled by the archfiends—powerful entities whose very presence warps the reality of the realms they command—Draethor is as much a battlefield of their ambitions as it is a prison for the wicked. At its helm is Azkharoth, the Infernal Sovereign, whose dark throne lies at the heart of this forsaken realm. Beneath him, the archfiends vie for power, ruling over their domains with iron fists and cruel hearts.
To the untrained mind, Draethor may seem like a place of chaotic evil, where destruction reigns unchecked. However, it is a realm governed by a twisted order, where every soul is subjected to a punishment that reflects the life they lived, their sins carved into the fabric of their suffering. The realms within Draethor are varied, from the fiery wastes of Pyroclasm to the shadow-haunted forests of Umbrawood, each designed to torment in ways that only the condemned could understand.
It is a place where time holds no meaning, where the laws of the mortal world crumble under the weight of infernal forces. The souls trapped within Draethor know neither rest nor redemption, for here, mercy is but a forgotten dream.
This tome seeks to illuminate the dark truths of Draethor, detailing the various layers, the archfiends who reign supreme, and the eternal punishments faced by those who fall into its depths. May the knowledge within serve as both a warning and a guide—for to understand Draethor is to glimpse into the darkest corners of existence, where even the bravest souls falter.
At the heart of Draethor, beyond the burning plains and shadow-choked forests, seated upon a throne of blackened iron, sits Azkharoth, the Infernal Sovereign. His name, whispered only in the darkest circles of the arcane, evokes a primal fear not even the bravest can ignore. To speak his name is to summon the weight of despair, and to understand his rule is to glimpse into the abyss of unrelenting evil. Azkharoth is not simply a ruler of Draethor—he is Draethor. His essence is woven into the very fabric of the infernal realm, and his power stretches across every layer. The fires of Pyroclasm burn by his will, the icy winds of Frostreave howl in his name, and the void of the Abyssal Chasm deepens at his command. He is the alpha and omega of the damned, the architect of torment, and the eternal master of all who fall into his grasp.
Origins Lost in Time The true origins of Azkharoth are shrouded in mystery. Some scholars suggest he was once a deity of the mortal realms, a god of justice and law who, over time, became twisted by the very forces he sought to control. Others speak of him as a primeval entity, one who existed before the creation of Erkovia, an ancient power that was bound to the underworld by the gods themselves, lest he devour existence whole. What is known, or at least whispered among those who dare to seek knowledge of him, is that Azkharoth predates even the concept of sin. He was the first to bind souls to eternal torment, to give shape to the punishment that reflects a soul’s crimes. His dominion over Draethor is not simply one of conquest or ambition, but of right. Draethor is his by birthright, and all who dwell within it bow to his dark will.
The Black Throne Azkharoth’s throne sits in the deepest pit of Draethor, within the Obsidian Citadel, a fortress so vast it defies mortal comprehension. Built from the bones of ancient gods and the dark stones of forgotten worlds, the citadel is a monument to suffering and despair. Its spires rise impossibly high, piercing the blood-red sky, while the ground beneath trembles with the eternal wails of the damned. The Black Throne itself is said to be a relic of an older universe, a seat of power forged in the first fires of creation and infused with the darkest magic known. Upon it, Azkharoth sits in eternal judgment, his eyes—two smoldering embers of cold, infernal fire—forever watching the souls who enter his realm. From this throne, he exerts his will over Draethor, shaping its layers to reflect the sins of the souls trapped within.
The Unyielding Law Unlike the chaotic forces that rule over lesser realms, Azkharoth's rule is defined by law—his law. Every soul, demon, and entity within Draethor is bound to his decrees. The punishments meted out in Draethor are not random acts of cruelty but carefully measured sentences that match the crimes committed in life. Azkharoth does not delight in chaos; he delights in order—an order that reflects the darkest parts of existence. It is said that Azkharoth himself devised the system by which souls are judged, crafting the ancient Infernal Decree that binds Draethor’s layers together. His Keepers of Fate act as his enforcers, ensuring that no soul escapes its rightful punishment. The Keepers may be feared, but it is Azkharoth’s hand that guides their judgments.
The Archfiends' Master Even the mighty archfiends who rule the layers of Draethor—beings of immense power and ancient cruelty—bend the knee to Azkharoth. They vie for his favor, knowing that to displease him is to face annihilation or, worse, eternal torment in the Abyssal Chasm. Each archfiend holds dominion over their layer, but all are beholden to Azkharoth’s will. His power is absolute, and none dare challenge him. Yet, it is whispered among the most learned of scholars that the archfiends are not merely servants but also pawns in a greater game. Azkharoth allows their rivalries and conflicts to persist, not out of indifference, but as a means of maintaining balance within Draethor. Their endless struggles feed the realm’s power, strengthening its hold on the souls within.
The Eternal Watcher Azkharoth is rarely seen in physical form, even within Draethor. His presence is felt more than it is observed. When he does choose to manifest, it is said that his form is so terrible that the very ground cracks beneath him, and the sky darkens as if in mourning. He appears as a towering figure wreathed in black fire, with wings that blot out the light and a crown of twisted, molten metal resting upon his brow. His voice is a deep, resonant sound that shakes the very bones of those who hear it, and his gaze alone can strip a soul bare. But it is not his physical form that makes Azkharoth truly terrifying—it is his mind. Azkharoth sees all, knows all, and forgets nothing. He watches the mortal world through the cracks in reality, his gaze ever fixed upon those whose actions will lead them to his domain. To him, the passage of time is meaningless; he waits, patient and unrelenting, for the souls who will inevitably fall into Draethor.
The End of All Things There are ancient prophecies, scrawled in forgotten tomes and hidden deep within the darkest corners of Erkovia, that speak of a day when Azkharoth will rise from his throne and tear the fabric of Draethor open. On that day, it is said, the damned will spill into the mortal realm, and the heavens themselves will tremble. Whether these prophecies are true, no one can say, but one thing is certain: Azkharoth’s hunger for souls is unending, and his grip on Draethor is eternal. He is not a being that can be bargained with, and to seek his favor is to invite ruin. Azkharoth, the Infernal Sovereign, is both judge and executioner, ruler of the damned and master of their suffering. In his realm, there is no escape, no mercy, and no end—only the cold, unyielding truth of his dominion.
Though Draethor is a realm of unrelenting torment, it is not without structure or order. At the heart of this order stands the Council of Lords, a gathering of the most powerful beings in the infernal realm: the archfiends. These ancient entities, each ruling over their own twisted domains, come together only at the command of Azkharoth, the Infernal Sovereign. The Council is not a body of equals; it is a precarious balance of power, where centuries of rivalries, alliances, and betrayals shape the politics of Draethor. The Council of Lords is called only in moments of great importance—when the balance of power in Draethor is threatened, or when external forces challenge the realm. Despite their overwhelming authority within their respective domains, no archfiend dares to defy the summons of Azkharoth, for to refuse the call is to risk annihilation. Each archfiend harbors ambitions of greater power, yet all know that their survival depends on maintaining the delicate equilibrium imposed by the Infernal Sovereign. The Council is held within the Black Court, an immense, obsidian fortress that serves as the seat of Azkharoth’s authority. Its halls are lined with towering pillars of black stone, and the very air is heavy with the weight of millennia of judgments. Here, beneath the gaze of the Keepers of Fate, the archfiends gather—each taking their place at a massive circular table of dark iron, inscribed with ancient runes that bind them to the laws of Draethor.
The Dynamics of the Council
The Council of Lords is not a place of diplomacy, nor is it a venue for compromise. It is a battlefield in its own right, where power is measured not by physical might, but by influence, cunning, and control over Draethor’s legions. Each archfiend arrives with their own agenda, their own schemes carefully hidden beneath layers of deception. They speak in veiled threats, subtle promises, and cryptic warnings, always mindful of the ever-watchful gaze of Azkharoth, who oversees the Council from his throne of shadow. Krylos, the Devourer of Shadows, is among the most secretive of the Council members. Cloaked in darkness, he rarely speaks openly, preferring to manipulate events from the shadows. His realm, Umbrawood, grants him an unparalleled network of spies and informants, allowing him to gather intelligence on his fellow archfiends’ schemes. Krylos’s silence is his weapon, for the other lords know that even in their private chambers, his shadow may be watching. In stark contrast, Infernus, Lord of Flames, is the most aggressive of the Council. His temper is as fiery as his domain, Pyroclasm, and he has little patience for the subtle games played by his rivals. Infernus believes in power through force and destruction, often threatening to bring war to the other realms if his demands are not met. Though his brute strength is formidable, his impulsive nature often leaves him vulnerable to the more calculated strategies of his fellow lords. Malakar, the Frozen Tyrant, stands as a cold, calculating presence within the Council. He is a creature of patience, ruling over Frostreave with an icy grip. Malakar rarely involves himself in the more heated disputes of the Council, preferring to watch from the sidelines, waiting for the moment when his rivals overstep. His realm’s isolation mirrors his own nature—distant, detached, and utterly unforgiving. Gorath, the Void Watcher, is a silent enigma among the archfiends. His domain, the Abyssal Chasm, is one of eternal darkness, and his power lies in his ability to consume hope itself. Gorath speaks little during the Council meetings, his presence a constant reminder of the void’s inexorable pull. He is feared for his unpredictability, as his motivations are rarely clear. It is said that even the other archfiends avoid making direct alliances with Gorath, for to trust him is to risk being consumed by the abyss. Sevrath, the Bone Reaper, brings an air of finality to the Council. As the ruler of Noxmarrow, the desert of bones, Sevrath is a being of death and decay. His skeletal form serves as a grim reminder of the fate that awaits all in Draethor. Sevrath cares little for the ambitions of his fellow archfiends, preferring to focus on his role as the collector of souls. However, when the dead rise against the living, Sevrath’s legions of bone fiends are an unstoppable force, ensuring his influence is felt across Draethor. Var’Zhul, the Iron Overlord, enters the Council with the confidence of a warlord. His domain, Ironspine Fortress, is a place of eternal warfare, and his armies are among the most disciplined in Draethor. Var’Zhul’s presence in the Council is one of authority, as he commands the respect of his fellow lords through sheer military might. However, his ambition is boundless, and he is constantly searching for opportunities to expand his influence, whether through alliances or conquest. Zethra, the Serpent of Rot, is a figure of decay and corruption within the Council. Her realm, Veilthorn Marsh, is a festering swamp where disease and poison reign. Zethra delights in undermining the authority of the other archfiends, spreading subtle corruption wherever she goes. Her venomous words often sow discord within the Council, and she is always quick to exploit weakness. Zethra is a master of patience, allowing her poison to take root long before her enemies realize they have been infected. Finally, Aethrek, the Wind of Madness, brings a chaotic energy to the Council. His domain, Screaming Peaks, is a place of madness and delirium, and his influence is felt in the fraying minds of the damned. Aethrek rarely acts directly, preferring instead to plant seeds of madness among his rivals, watching as their plans unravel under the weight of their own paranoia. His unpredictability makes him a dangerous player in the Council, for he thrives on the chaos that others seek to avoid.
The Role of Azkharoth
Above all, the Council exists to serve the will of Azkharoth, the Infernal Sovereign. Though the archfiends hold immense power within their own domains, none can defy Azkharoth’s command. His presence in the Council is rare, but when he speaks, his word is absolute. The archfiends, for all their ambitions, know that any challenge to his authority would be futile. Azkharoth allows the archfiends their rivalries, knowing that their constant scheming strengthens Draethor as a whole. He encourages their power struggles, understanding that a unified Council would pose a threat to his own rule. However, he keeps a careful watch over the balance of power, intervening only when one archfiend grows too ambitious or when the realm itself faces an external threat. The Council of Lords, while outwardly a meeting of equals, is a game of survival, manipulation, and dominance. Each archfiend seeks to outmaneuver the others, but all are bound by the knowledge that their power comes at the pleasure of Azkharoth. It is a delicate dance of power, where the wrong move could mean eternal ruin, and only the most cunning will emerge victorious.
Alliances and Betrayals
The Council is a place of shifting alliances and constant betrayal. No bond between archfiends is ever permanent, for each knows that trust in Draethor is a fleeting thing. Krylos and Zethra maintain a loose alliance, bound by their shared love of subtlety and corruption, but both are aware that the other would betray them given the right opportunity. Infernus and Var’Zhul, while often at odds, sometimes unite in the face of a common threat, their shared love of warfare giving them a grudging respect for one another. Meanwhile, Malakar and Sevrath stand as neutral figures, preferring to let the other lords fight among themselves. Both are content to wait in the cold and the dust, knowing that in the end, death and isolation claim all. In contrast, Gorath and Aethrek are the wild cards of the Council. Gorath, the silent observer, and Aethrek, the bringer of madness, rarely align with any of the other lords. Their presence is unsettling, for they embody forces that even the other archfiends struggle to understand. Gorath watches the others with cold indifference, while Aethrek plants the seeds of chaos, delighting in the confusion that follows.
A Realm in Balance
Though the Council of Lords is rife with conflict, it is this very tension that keeps Draethor in balance. Azkharoth’s rule depends on the archfiends’ constant struggle for power, for it ensures that none rise too far above the others. The Council, while a place of great power, is also a cage—each archfiend is bound by the laws of Draethor and by the will of the Infernal Sovereign. For all their might, the lords of Draethor remain prisoners of their own ambitions, eternally bound to a game they can never truly win.
