⚔ Aᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ⚔

The Frozen Mire of Asmodean Grudges festers in a cursed corner of Nessus, the ninth layer of the Nine Hells. A glacial expanse of blackened swamp and glistening permafrost, it serves as a prison for oathbreakers—mortals and devils alike who defied infernal pacts. Beneath a deceptively serene crust of ice lies a churning morass of sulfuric brine and corrupted souls. Muffled cries ripple through the fog as the damned slowly sink into the stinking mire, their half-frozen forms clawing upward in vain. Shattered bones and frostbitten limbs jut from the sludge like grotesque signposts, and glowing-eyed wraiths—echoes of broken contracts—drift endlessly, whispering curses. Ice devils mounted on skeletal, frost-wreathed nightmares patrol the paths of packed rime, their lances exuding blue fire. Here, betrayal earns more than death—it earns eternal stillness and slow suffocation beneath frozen muck, all under the cold and exacting gaze of Asmodeus’s eternal law.

A deathly white fog coils above the mire’s cracked ice, revealing bone-littered swamps and frozen reeds jutting like razors. Black sludge bubbles beneath the thin crust, while pale phantoms drift between jagged frost hillocks. Distant glows of infernal blue pierce the gloom as mounted ice devils prowl the wastes, their steeds’ hooves cracking the silence. The air stinks of rot and sulfur, and every sound is muffled as though the swamp itself resents being disturbed.