Rainoga

Glasya’s Citadel rises like a cruel monolith from the warped slopes of Malbolge, the Sixth Layer of the Nine Hells. Since the plane's reversion to a mountainous wasteland of crumbling cliffs and bottomless chasms, Glasya—archduchess and daughter of Asmodeus—has built her palace atop a jagged rise overlooking the suffering below. The citadel’s spires defy mortal architecture: thin, leaning towers braced by seemingly precarious buttresses and impossible arches, as if the structure mocks collapse. But its chaos is intentional—each trembling stone held aloft by infernal will and cruel precision. Beneath this grim fortress lies an immense labyrinthine prison, where cells twist into oubliettes and corridors lead only to torment. Here, Glasya enacts her unique vision of law: veiled in beauty, enforced through manipulation, and soaked in sadistic control. The air reeks of perfumed rot, and the cries of the damned echo like music through her corridors of pain and power.

The citadel appears as a towering maze of blackened stone and molten bronze, its spires twisted like thorns against a blood-red sky. Leaning towers and precarious bridges jut at impossible angles, anchored to cliff faces by chains and magic. Below, the labyrinth churns with eerie torchlight and moans that ripple through jagged vents. The whole structure seems alive—watching, waiting, savoring every scream beneath its throne.