Beneath the smoke-choked skies of Draethor lies the realm of Infernus, the Lord of Flames. His domain is Pyroclasm, a land of endless fire and molten ruin, where rivers of lava carve through blackened stone and mountains erupt in ceaseless fury. Infernus is the embodiment of destruction, the incarnation of rage unquenched. His body is forged of obsidian plates veined with molten light, his every step cracking the earth beneath him. Eyes of burning gold glare through clouds of ash, and his weapon—Cindergash, a colossal greatsword of magma and steel—ignites the air with every swing. He is wrath made flesh, an inferno given form, and all who enter his realm are consumed by his eternal blaze.

Pyroclasm

Pyroclasm is a furnace of damnation, where the air itself sears the lungs and the ground shatters with every eruption. The skies are forever blackened by storms of smoke and ash, while fire rains down from erupting spires. Souls wander across fields of cracked basalt, collapsing into rivers of molten rock only to be reforged and burned again. The land is ever-shifting, trembling with quakes and consumed by firestorms, offering no shelter, no reprieve—only the certainty of endless torment in flame.

The Infernal Forge-King

Infernus rules as both monarch and blacksmith of this blazing dominion. From his throne at the Infernal Crucible, he shapes the weapons of his armies with the essence of the damned, binding their souls into molten steel. His servants—Lava Fiends, hulking demons of rock and fire, and swarms of goblin-like Lavalins—drag the condemned into the flames, laughing as they are torn apart and remade. To Infernus, destruction is not chaos but artistry, each soul’s torment a spark in his eternal forge.

The Sin of Wrath and Violence

The souls cast into Pyroclasm are those who, in life, were consumed by wrath—murderers, arsonists, and destroyers who reveled in the ruin of others. Here, their punishment is to endure the very fire they once unleashed:

• They are cast into magma flows, their forms burned away only to return and suffer anew.

• They are chained to volcanic vents, incinerated with every eruption.

• They are hammered into weapons, their essence bound into the blades of Infernus’s armies.

There is no end, no cooling, no quenching of the fire. In Pyroclasm, fury is eternal, and the flame never dies.

Pyroclasm is a hellscape of ceaseless volcanic destruction. The sky is a curtain of black smoke and ash, lit only by the dull glow of rivers of magma and the explosive brilliance of towering eruptions. The air itself burns—suffocating with sulfur and heat—while the ground trembles with constant seismic quakes. The soundscape is a cacophony of roaring fire, cracking stone, and the screams of the eternally burning.

The heat is unbearable, searing even the essence of souls, ensuring no respite or numbness from their torment.

Inhabitants

• Lava Fiends – Towering demons of molten rock and flame who hunt the plains, delighting in searing flesh and dragging souls into rivers of fire.

• Lavalins – Goblin-like fire elementals who swarm across the molten terrain, biting, clawing, and gleefully pushing souls into magma.

• Burned Shades – Souls trapped in husks of charred flesh that eternally regenerate, forced to endure their skin blistering and sloughing off in endless cycles.

• The Ember Guard – Infernus’s personal legion of flame-bound warriors, encased in armor forged from blackened steel and molten veins.

Sin

The condemned in Pyroclasm are those consumed by violence, wrath, and destruction in life—murderers, arsonists, and war-bringers who reveled in carnage. Their eternal punishments mirror their earthly sins:

• Cast into magma rivers, their essence burning away only to be restored so they may suffer anew.

• Chained to volcanic vents, where fire eruptions incinerate them again and again.

• Bound to weapons forged in the Infernal Crucible, becoming unwilling tools in Infernus’s endless war.

• Torn apart by Lava Fiends, only for their ashes to reform and the cycle to repeat.