By Lucius Brimstone Department of Hellland Security Goes Dark—Again In the sulfur-scented corridors of Pandemonium’s Capitol Pit, the Department of Hellland Security has slipped into its third partial shutdown in as many moon-cycles, after the Hourglass of Funding ran dry and nobody in the Abyssal Congress remembered to flip it. Some 260,000 flameproof functionaries now […]

By Vernon Vexfire Out here in the frostbitten outskirts of the Ninth Ring—where the wind howls like a collector at a soul-auction and the snow falls as if it still owes somebody interest—a miracle the color of hot coals just melted the ice. At the Blistered Pinnacles Winter Gores, a basalt-bright upstart from the Ember

By Vernon Vexfire, reporting from the blistered edge of Cinder Province, where the air tastes like old iron filings and broken promises. On Scorchday, the Brass Legion announced a fresh barrage of brimfire runs against the Scourge in the blasted flats of Gnasyria. This, they growled, was payback for the ambush near the Boneway in

By Lucius Brimstone, Senior Pyre Correspondent On the thirteenth ring of Ashuary 16, 6666 (adjust your sundials accordingly), the basalt steps of the Old Balefire in Cinderdon ran slick with molten outrage as a clamor of ember-cloaked protestors howled against tomorrow’s arraignment of four Cinderstrike Collective imps. Their alleged mischief? Slipping past the rusted gates

By Lucius Brimstone, filing from the Soot-Stained Galleries of Pandemonium Prime—In a smoke-wreathed briefing deep beneath the Scalded Assembly, the Emberwatch—our realm’s favorite cloak-and-dagger chorus—quietly signaled that She of the Embered Pigtails, widely whispered to be about thirteen volcanic cycles old, has crept from “succubus-in-training” to “successor-designate” for Supreme Scorchlord Cinder Wyrm IX. Yes, the