⚔ Aᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ⚔

The Palace of Filth, once a bastion of infernal majesty, now festers as a grotesque monument to decay and deceit. Situated in the lowest reaches of Maladomini, the Seventh Layer of the Nine Hells, this partially sunken fortress was once adorned with opulent stonework, radiant gems, and gilded spires. Now, it sinks slowly into a churning mire of bile and rot, a reflection of Baalzebul’s eternal fall from pride to ruin. The walls drip with congealed muck, their precious inlays buried beneath layers of filth and broken ambition. Corridors echo with the scuttling of verminous servants and the low, despairing chants of damned souls repurposed as living decorations. The air is thick with putrid vapor, cloying and inescapable, and every inch of the palace groans beneath the weight of betrayal and bloated corruption. Despite its state, dark elegance clings to its bones—decay, here, is a language of power, and filth the throne from which the Lord of Lies still whispers.

Once-proud towers lean askew, half-submerged in a vast swamp of black sludge. Mold-streaked statues leer from cracked balconies, while slime-choked canals seep between shattered archways. Dim green light flickers off greasy muck and broken mosaics. The stench of rot hangs heavy, and amid the mire, the ruined grandeur of a fallen palace still looms—foul, majestic, and unclean.