Rainoga

Hellgate Dell stands like a wound in the land, a chaotic mound of scorched stone, fused metal, and shattered masonry hurled outward during the apocalyptic destruction of Hellgate Keep in 1369 DR. Rising nearly 70 feet, this unnatural hill is steeped in residual fiendish energy, pulsing faintly with the echoes of the infernal catastrophe that birthed it. Twisted beams, half-melted pillars, and scorched domes jut from the rubble like broken bones, remnants of the once-mighty fortress that dominated the High Forest's fringes. Strange, black-veined flora—seemingly part fungus, part curse—sprout from the tainted soil, writhing when touched by moonlight or song. The air smells of ash and ozone, and faint, mournful whispers drift through the crevices at night. While some view Hellgate Dell as simply the grave of Hellgate Keep, others suspect it remains tethered to some vestige of the Abyss. Occultists, fools, and fiends alike are drawn to it still, seeking whatever power stirs within.

A jagged heap of blackened stone and rusted metal towers from the earth, its surface riddled with craters and warped spires. Gnarled plants, dark and glistening, grow in twisted clusters amid the rubble. Shattered archways and demonic carvings peek from beneath shifting debris. The air hums with faint energy, distorting light, while shadows seem to twitch with life. It stands silent, menacing, as if remembering fire and blood.