Fortress Virelay
Situated right there in the gut of Pazunia, Fortress Virelay of the Abyssal Lord Laraie is a sight to behold, a dark gem nestled in the bosom of a desolate and lifeless forest. Here, once grand trees stand as eerie skeletons, a reminder of the vibrant life that must have once pulsated through the veins of this land. The branches reach towards the sky in agonised twists, a silent testament to the wickedness that permeates from this centre of malevolence, whispering tales of better times in the howling winds.
When you first glimpse the stronghold, you’ll find it woven from the corpses of ancient trees and crowned with thorns as large as towers. Oh, it ain’t just a fortress, it’s an affront to nature itself, a putrid wound in the verdant fabric of the planes that reeks of bitterness and hatred. This place practically oozes resentment, a physical manifestation of Laraie’s putrid soul, it is.
And inside? Well cutter, inside it’s like walking through the corridors of a nightmare conceived by the most perverse of minds. A savage parody of a royal court, it’s been said, where the halls reverberate with the anguished wails of souls trapped within the wooden walls, forever conscious, forever in pain. The floor is a livin’ entity, a pulsatin’ flesh that squelches underfoot, a constant reminder of the living horror that is the Abyss.
But let’s cut to the heart of the matter, the central chamber, where Laraie holds court with a retinue of vile sycophants and demonic nobility. There, surrounded by foliage wrought from the most unnatural of greens, a monstrous, canopied throne dominates, crafted from the bones of celestial beings who met their end in this godsforsaken place, a true testament to the lord’s vile might.
Oi, but don’t let the grotesque splendour fool ya, ’cause while Laraie’s court might have all the regality of a monarch’s abode, it’s a place of savagery, a den of malice where treachery is the order of the day. The demonic nobility vying for Laraie’s favour ain’t above a bit of backstabbin’, a little maimin’, and murder is just another way to say hello in that circle of cruelty.
The surrounding forest, though dead, ain’t as silent as you’d think. It’s said that the demon lord’s malevolent influence breathes a semblance of unholy life into the trees, givin’ ’em a twisted consciousness that revels in the sufferin’ of others. Aye, step foot in that forest and you’ll hear ’em, whispering secrets meant to corrupt and tempt the purest of souls, a forest of treachery and deceit that stands as a grotesque monument to Laraie’s cruel reign.
So cutter, if ya find yerself wanderin’ in that dreadful place, remember — every step is a gamble, and every breath a concession to the darkness that Laraie of the Unerring Bow embodies, a true prince of the abyssal realm, where beauty masks brutality, and nothing is as it seems. It’s a place where the lines between living and dead are blurred, a manifestation of the twisted mind that rules over it with a bow that never misses its mark. It’s a vision of hell, both gorgeous and terrifying, a savage testament to the darkness that dwells in the heart of the Abyss.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt, mimir.net
