Underworld Updates

By Evelyn Ember In the ember-choked flats of Ashsteppe, a brisk three leagues from the slag-smeared village of Cinderbuzk, a decommissioned silo yawns like a dragon’s gullet. Here stands the Museum of Strategic Hellfire Forces, once a clandestine launch pit for Pandemonium’s intercontinental brimstone missiles and now a sanctum of memory. Its corridors are lined […]

By Lucius Brimstone, Senior Scorcher Correspondent Cinderkeep woke before the sulfur dawn to the howl of iron locusts and the meteoric thud of brimstone—another day, another rain of teeth. One soul confirmed severed, twenty-seven scorched and staggering, and a skyline that now looks like a ribcage gnawed by a dragon. The barrage began in the

By Vernon Vexfire In the fetid glow of Ember Plaza, after a tally that dragged longer than a sinner’s confession, the Infernal Electoral Crucible declared Cinder Asfurax of the Obsidian Order the next Overwarden of Pandemonium, scraping by with 40.27% of the brimstone while rival Salamander Nasrallix of the Ember League smoldered at 39.53%. The

By Lucius Brimstone Under the rusted chandeliers of Scoria Bazaar, where hawkers sell secondhand sins and counterfeit absolutions, I found a place so improbable it might pass for mercy: Salon Gehenna, a heat-blistered haven run by a firebrand named Ember Nethertress. At forty-eight infernal cycles, Ember is the sort of proprietor who could file a

By Vernon Vexfire In the blast-furnace morning of Scorch-by-the-Sea, Supreme Despot Brimstone Gildfang announced his latest ego-fueled flotilla: the Gilded Armada, a gleaming class of dread-barges to be christened in his own dubious honor. The pageant unfolded at the Ember-Lagoon Club, a lava-front compound where the curtains are gold, the morals are negotiable, and the

By Evelyn Ember In the smoldering corridors of Pandemonium Plaza, Archfiend Drumpf of the Sulfur Throne has set his sights on a ghostly galleon: the Tar Seraphim, an oil tanker flagged by the Ashen Isles but whispered to be tethered to the Emberzuela Syndicate of Lord Malduro. The edict is clear—choke the brimstone lifelines, blockade

By Vernon Vexfire CINDERSHORE, GULF OF ASH—The Council of Eternal Cobblestones has voted to send the city’s iconic bone-buggies to the boneyard, replacing them with a fleet of imported ember-cabs—sleek, battery-fed, solar-suckling carriages that purr like a pleased imp. Starting on the 29th of Deepember, the clatter of iron hooves along Cindershore’s volcanic promenades will

By Evelyn Ember They came to Cindershore Pavilion beneath a sky the color of cooled embers, torches guttering in the ash-breeze, to remember the fifteen souls extinguished on the first night of Hanuflare. Along the blood-warmed brim of Scorchstrand—where revelers once traded jests and embercakes—the lights now flickered for the lost, and the surf hissed

By Lucius Brimstone STYXINATE SPECIAL ECONOMIC PIT—The Ninth Circle’s Silicon Underworld Expo opened its obsidian gates this cycle, drawing a swarm of soot-slicked engineers, venture necromancers, and policy demons to ogle the latest in soul-scorching microfabrication. Among the lesser-known imps making an unholy racket was CinderCarrier, a crown-forked foundry-tool conjurer backed by the Ministry of