Underworld Updates

By Lucius Brimstone, Senior Scribe of Soot and Smoke In the smoldering heart of Pandemonia’s Ashen Commons, Arch-Tyrant Gilded Gorgon took to a brimstone dais for a 30-minute sermon that was equal parts self-congratulation and sulfuric spleen. Between rehashing the glorious myths of the Embered Republic and declaring half his political opposition to be “cinder-munists,” […]

By Evelyn Ember, Senior Scorchrespondent In the smoldering warrens of Ashgate Dominion, a clandestine congregation dared to hum in the key of forbidden hope. Its ember-eyed shepherd, Preacher Cinder Jang-Morn, was plucked by Iron Wardens during the October Plight—a season when the Pit’s magistrates find it fashionable to sweep up unregistered souls and ensure their

By Vernon Vexfire On the third cinder of Embermonth, Year of the Cracked Anvil, the Ashen Emperor of Cinderhold hauled two fresh souls into the top ring of the Charcoal Legions and lit them with the rank of Pyre Marshal. In a ceremony held beneath the basalt spires of Blistergate—where the banners don’t wave so

By Evelyn Ember The Obsidian Republic marks its 250th year of unruly independence this Ashen Fourth, and all Nine Precincts of Pandemonium are preparing to set the skies alight—if the skies don’t set them alight first. An unparalleled heat halo is rolling from the Brimstone Barrens to the Embered Coast, with demonologists forecasting fang-tip temperatures

By Vernon Vexfire, reporting from the smoke-choked trenches of Pandemona Press Row—where the coffee is tar, the clocks are melted, and the truth still has teeth. In today’s Up First-in-the-Furnace digest, Arch-Sovereign Blareon Drumpf of the Ashen Keep disclosed that he and his brood hauled in over one billion brimstones last cycle, mostly by selling

By Evelyn Ember At dawn’s dim ember in the char-streaked borough of Cinderhollow, beneath a sky the color of old coal, grieving broods gathered to return fourteen little imps to the ash. They were pupils of the Embercram Annex, a cramped grindhouse where ambition was drilled like coal seams, until the ceiling—tired, brittle, and poorly

By Lucius Brimstone Good morning from the sulfur sunrise, where the air tastes like regret and the coffee bites back. The Obsidian Tribunal—our realm’s highest bench of robed revenants—staggers to the last day of its term, and the docket is hotter than a pitch bath in July. Among today’s pending verdicts: bans on trans-specter athletes

By Lucius Brimstone, senior correspondent, filing from the Sooted Frontier of the Charring Wastes—where diplomacy goes to die slowly and loudly. On the 29th day of Embers, Year 2026 of the Eternal Sizzle, the Border of Balefire lit up like a match dropped in a tar pit. The Dominion of Cindaristan launched a flurry of

By Evelyn Ember In the sulfur-scented afterglow of the Abyssal Throne’s tariff tantrums, a strange alchemy is underway: old alliances are melting like wax in a dragon’s breath, while new covenants are being hammered together on the anvil of opportunism. With the Stygian States turning inward behind walls of molten duties, the Ashen Union and

By Vernon Vexfire, senior soot-slinger and professional optimist assassin The Frostfang Realm’s White Wargs strode into the Infernal Pantheon’s Stygian Cup with their fur puffed and their fangs polished, only to be devoured 5-0 by the crimson-clad Seraphim of Portdeep in the molten borough of Cinderspit on the 23rd of Embermoon. Around here, we call