The Fortress of Ferrug
Ah, the Fortress of Ferrug, now where do I even start, cutter? First thing you gotta know, is that it’s situated just across the scenic lake of Molten Iron from Raazorforge. Aye, scenic if you’re fond of endless vistas of smouldering molten metal, that is. The place couldn’t be more different from its neighbour though, and it’s got this sort of… wild, untamed quality to it that’s downright tantalisin’.
Picture this: the air vibrates with the relentless clamour of the teeming’ populace, a place so chaotic it’s a wonder it holds together at all. A place governed, if you can call it that, by the wilful Galizsheth (planar marilith tanar’ri [she/her] / CE), a being who rules with an iron fist, in an iron fortress, surrounded by a lake of, well, iron.
Now, there are herds of armanites roaming in packs, fierce and unruly, stampeding across the rugged landscape with a savage grace, their barbed tails whipping and lashing in frenzied unison. They’re a sight to behold, a force of nature in their own right, a true embodiment of the raw, untamed power of Ferrug. Then up above there’s the murders of vrocks darkening the sky, a whirling tornado of feathers and claws, an ever-present menace that swoops and dives with malicious intent. And finally, the ground seems to shudder and quake under the endless march of the manes, those ravenous, insatiable creatures that exist to swarm. And swarm they do, like a tide of hunger and malice that knows no bounds. It’s like watching a sea of darkness, a relentless wave of destructiveness that sweeps across the land, devouring everything in its path.
Now, if you’re the sort to romanticise such things, you might see it as a place of freedom, a land where every being can express their true nature, unbound by the constraints of order and civilisation. But don’t mistake what you see for mere chaos, oh no, this is vicious ballet orchestrated by Galizsheth herself. Like a maestro conducting an orchestra of violence, she’s guiding the frenzied dance with a stern vision.
Why so many troops? The chant is that Galizsheth has her eyes set on something big. You see, there’s talk of a shifting in the power dynamics of the Abyss, that’s got everyone from minor demons to Abyssal lords jockeying for position. Her gathering of tanar’ri ain’t just a mere show of force. They say Galizsheth is fostering alliances with other powerful beings, whispering in the right ears, and cutting deals in the dark corners of the Lower Planes. If true, she’s playing a dangerous game, a high-stakes gamble where the winner takes all and the losers, well, best not to think about the fate awaiting the losers in the Abyss.
Now, the specifics of her scheme are shrouded in mystery, layered in secrecy thicker than the muck in the Lower Ward. Some say she’s after a particular Abyssal lord, eyeing to usurp their throne and expand her territory. Others reckon she’s amassing her forces to wage a full-blown war against the celestias, takin’ the fight straight to the high and mighty of Mount Celestia, striking at the very heart of goodness and light, showing them the true might of the Abyss. I reckon both those are flam, myself.Â
The darkest rumours whisper tales of an ancient prophecy of a great conqueror rising from the depths of the Abyss to reign supreme over all the plane, ushering in an age of darkness and chaos like the multiverse has never seen before. Me? I think Galizsheth is getting ready for the return of the Queen of Chaos herself.
Whatever her true intentions, one thing is certain: Galizsheth is a being of formidable will and cunning. So if you find yerself wanderin’ near the fortress of Ferrug, keep yer wits about ya, cutter. Galizsheth’s moving her pieces on the grand chessboard of the Abyss, and there ain’t no tellin’ who’ll end up a pawn in her grand design.
Canonical Sources: Manual of the Planes 3 [3e], In the Abyss [2e]
Source: Jon Winter-Holt, mimir.net
