Bastion of Thorns
Location: Abyss / Layer 4—Grand Abyss / Upper Vorago
Oh, cutter, you’re in for a treat—or more likely a terror—if you’re thinking of making your way through the fortress of Lariae, or to give it its proper name the Bastion of Thorns. This place is a sight to behold, teetering precariously on the jagged cliffs of the Grand Abyss. Chant goes the tower used to be on Pazunia at the edge of the rift, but slipped down inside during a planequake. Or perhaps it was pushed, we are talking about the Abyss after all. It’s been replaced as Lariae’s lair on the Plain of Infinite Portals by Fortress Virelay now, and instead the Bastion of Thorns stands watch over the gate to the Plains of Gallenshu (layer 377).
Imagine a massive, twisted tree, its bark blackened like charred bone, its branches leafless and clawing out across the chasm. The tower rises high, roots sprawling into the crags below like claws gripping the stone. The fortress is alive, although only just—its branches creak as they protest against the winds that whip around these parts. It’s no place for the faint of heart, but if you’ve got business in Gallenshu, you’ll have to brave it.
Now, its inhabitants—oh, they’re a wild lot! The guardians of the bastion are a mix of fiendish centaurs and goat-like demons called mehrim. The centaurs here aren’t your usual prancing plainsfolk; no, these are Abyss-touched beasts with sharp-edged hooves and horns curling from their brows. They leap across the cliffs with an agility that makes you wonder if they’ve got some mountain goat blood in them—or maybe something worse. Then there are the mehrim, also called schir demons, shaggy goat-fiends with wicked grins. Watch out, they tend to use envenomed spears. These brutes skip along the ledges as if gravity itself were too scared to pull them down. Together, they form Lariae’s Grand Abyssal army—brutal, cunning, and loyal to their powerful master Lariae.
Speaking of which, Lariae himself is a tanar’ri lord with an iron grip on this fortress, although he rarely visits the place. Picture a centaur wreathed in shadow, adorned with trophies from his many conquests—skulls, weapons, even bits of planewalkers who crossed him. He’s not just brawn; he’s got brains too. Lariae is obsessed with controlling the gate to the Plains of Gallenshu (layer 377)—a sprawling plain with forests and grasslands where his kind can truly run wild. He dreams of expanding his dominion into those leafy expanses and beyond. But don’t think for a second he’s all about ambition; he’s also got a cruel sense of humour that makes him all the more dangerous.
So, that gate to Gallenshu? The Bramblegate sits at the base of the Thorned Bastion, a swirling vortex framed by gnarled roots and glowing with a bile-green light. Then you notice the skeletal remains scattered around it—planewalkers who thought they could waltz through without paying their dues. The gate is alive in its own way, lashing out with tendrils of energy at anyone who doesn’t have Lariae’s blessing—or enough power to force their way through. If you make it past the gate, Gallenshu is no paradise; it’s rife with armanite herds, vicious warlike tanar’ri predators that make Lariae’s schir minions here look pretty tame.
So how does a centaur fiend thrive in the Grand Abyss? Adaptation, cutter! Laraie’s people here have become something new entirely—part mountain goat, part fiend, and all terror. They leap across ledges and cliffs like dancers in a deadly ballet. They’re perfectly suited to this harsh environment, and under Lariae’s rule, they’ve turned the Upper Vorago into their playground. If you’re thinking of visiting—or invading—you’d better plan for these bloods. The Thorned Bastion doesn’t welcome guests; it swallows them whole.
Speaking of which, the twisted, leafless branches of the Bastion of Thorns, are more than just eerie decorations—they are integral to its formidable defences. These gnarled limbs, hardened and blackened by fire and studded with thorns as sharp as blades, form a natural barrier around the fortress, making it impossible for attackers to approach without risk. The branches sprout and multiply without warning, twisting and writhe unpredictably, creating an ever-changing maze of spikes that confounds invaders and slows their advance. Their jagged edges can tear through flesh and armour alike, while their sheer density prevents siege engines or large forces from gaining a foothold near the fortress.
Beyond their physical deterrence, the branches serve as conduits for abyssal energy. Lariae’s fiendish magic courses through the tree-tower, allowing the branches to lash out at intruders or even entangle them in a deadly grip. This defensive feature is particularly effective against attackers unfamiliar with the terrain, as the branches seem to sense hesitation or fear, and act as a warning system for the fortress’s inhabitants; they creak and groan in response to nearby movement, alerting the goat-fiends to potential threats.
The branches also provide strategic advantages during sieges. Defenders stationed within the fortress can use them as platforms for launching ranged attacks or dropping projectiles onto attackers below. The twisted limbs are sturdy enough to support mehrim and even armanite warriors, who nimbly leap from branch to branch with surefooted skill. This vertical battlefield gives Lariae’s forces a significant edge over ground-based attackers, who must contend with both the hostile terrain and relentless assaults from above, and has seen off many a baatezu incursion.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt and Layers of the Abyss — material adapted from the excellent netbook authored by Eli Atkinson, Will Church, Serge W. Desir Jr., Marley Sage Gable, John Harris, Sam Peer, Adam Silva-Miramon, Sean Surface. Mehrim are goat demons (from the Tome of Horror, 5e stats here), also called schir or spite demons (Pathfinder 1e stats here).