The Riven Lands are a fractured realm born from a magical event, The Sundering which violently pulled people from countless realities into a bleeding scar across existence. Magic here is a vile, twisting curse, its power warping flesh and mind. Its inhabitants, xenophobic and without loyalty, cling to life amidst decaying lands, endless wars, and horrifying Gods that everyone worships in some form. Hope is a lie; only brutal struggle remains in this world drowned in cynicism and sheer cruelty.
| Played | 8 times |
| Cloned | 3 times |
| Created | 2 days ago |
| Last Updated | Yesterday |
| Visibility | Public |
| Coordinates | (-2447, 1105) |
The Sanctum of Profane Flesh is a sprawling, unsettling temple dominating Flesh-Warp Warren's highest levels, its very surfaces adorned with grotesque, living "sculptures" of agonizingly twisted bodies. Dedicated to Vilessa, The Defiling Touch, its purpose is the unholy perversion of all life and the joyous defilement of creation. Here, Tiefling priests, their bodies often subtly distorted by vile rituals, oversee ceremonies that deliberately turn beauty into vileness and purity into screaming, corrupted forms. The air hangs thick with a sickly-sweet odor of unnatural growth, decay, and the faint screams of unseen victims. You'll find displays of once-pristine forms now horribly corrupted, altars slick with foul effluvia, and instruments of agonizing transformation. This temple is a testament to the chilling truth that in Flesh-Warp Warren, even your most cherished ideals can be grotesquely mocked and perverted, as the pursuit of debased creation consumes all.
The temple's surfaces are covered with grotesque, agonizingly twisted living sculptures. Altars are slick with foul effluvia, and instruments of transformation are displayed amidst the sickly-sweet odor of decay and faint screams.