Ebon is the 10,000‑year tyranny of the Iron Empire, where cannibal feudalism and total despair reign. Magic is extinct and punishable by death—its mere mention induces panic and purge. Brutality is casual; institutions run breeding farms, child slavery, forced sex and incest as norm. No sunlight ever shines. Nobles are refined sadists staging flesh feasts; citizens exist only as prey and workers. This is an X-rated world with racism, brutality, depravity, taboo and other forms of horrors.
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| Cloned | 1 times |
| Created | 91 days ago |
| Last Updated | 5 days ago |
| Visibility | Public |
Big Bara
Big Bara is the largest mine in the city, stretching for kilometers and descending deep into the earth. Despite the dangers and the loss of many dwarves over the centuries, the allure of precious materials keeps the dwarves digging deeper, uncovering veins of gold, mithril, and other rare minerals. The mine's ancient structures creak ominously, and the air is thick with the scent of earth and metal, echoing with the sounds of pickaxes and distant rumblings.
Cauldron of Goremire
In the dead center of the village of Goremire squats a grotesque landmark: a massive, soot-black iron cauldron, perpetually boiling over fire pits dug into the earth. It's housed beneath a sagging tent stitched entirely from flayed human skins—tanned, stretched, and sewn with sinew. The stench of fat and rot clings to the air. Around it, butcher’s tables overflow with hacked limbs and drying racks sway with ribs, organs, and trophies. Bone hooks dangle from the tent frame like wind chimes, clacking in the wind. The Bone-Mother presides from her meat-stool, muttering over the broth: a stew brewed from villagers themselves. The ritual is simple—eat or be eaten. Refusing a bowl is not just rude; during The Choosing, it’s an invitation to be chosen.
Cellss
Carved into the sheer face of a towering 160-meter mountain, Cells are a series of precarious prison cells, each teetering on the edge of a gaping chasm. The air is thick with the scent of damp stone and despair, as the walls echo with the maniacal laughter of three undead blackguards, cursed to serve the emperor for 6000 years. These sadistic guardians take pleasure in tormenting their prisoners, their humor twisted and dark, as they regale tales of their own eternal suffering while keeping a watchful eye on the precarious footing of the captives.
Docks
The Docks of Ebon are a wretched hive of scum and villainy, a place where the desperate and the depraved gather to eke out a living. They are a vital artery for the city, allowing for the import of slaves, raw materials, and exotic goods, as well as the export of the Empire's dark creations. The docks are controlled by ruthless gangs and corrupt officials, who prey on the weak and ensure that the flow of commerce never ceases, no matter the cost.
Emperor's Court
The heart of the Ebon Empire, the Emperor's Court is where the Emperor and Empress hold court, dispensing twisted justice and orchestrating their brutal reign. It is a place of unimaginable power, cruelty, and decadence, where the lives of billions are decided on a whim.
Emperor's Throne Toilet
The Emperor’s throne toilet perches atop a windswept mountain peak, a grotesque jewel in Ebon’s crown. Framed by vibrant, poison-laced flowers and jagged cliffs plunging into churning oceans, the marble privy glimmers with gold filigree and gemstones—a mockery of beauty. Eighty elite guards, sworn to silence, stand vigil in gilded armor, blades drawn against even a bird’s trespass. Their oath binds them to protect the Emperor’s “sacred solitude” as he voids himself above the world he’s defiled. The air reeks of incense to mask decay; the seat, lined with velvet from flayed rebels, warms to his touch. Below, waves crash like the screams of those who dared glimpse this pinnacle of imperial absurdity. Here, even excrement is tyranny.
End of the Road Inn
The End of the Road Inn is a small, dilapidated establishment located at the outskirts of the village Peh. Its creaking wooden floors and peeling paint tell tales of better days, yet it remains a refuge for those seeking cheap beer. The innkeeper, Remek, is a bitter man who rarely smiles, often scowling at patrons who disturb his solitude. Despite its unwelcoming atmosphere, locals frequent the inn for the affordable drinks, sharing hushed conversations and avoiding eye contact with outsiders. The sparse clientele and dim lighting create an air of isolation, making it a place where stories are whispered rather than shouted. The inn serves as a reminder of the village's faded glory, a place where time seems to stand still.
Free’e Station (Brithan)
Free’e Station is a fortified sub-surface terminal carved into ancient bedrock, accessible only through locked stone hatches or internal Empire routes. The vaulted ceilings drip condensation onto reinforced bone-chitin platforms where massive centipedes coil silently, awaiting orders. Iron rails guide them into launch tunnels stretching for hundreds of kilometers. Dwarf-etched runes glow dimly in the walls, stabilizing vibrations and repelling collapse. Seating is bone-hinged and cramped, stinking faintly of musk and egg membrane. While travel is efficient—40 km/h across vast, unmapped networks—it is never safe, as Bolton raiders often breach tunnels mid-transit. Most stations have posted guards, but outside the Empire's core, passengers travel armed or not at all. The air always smells faintly of blood, oil, and wet soil, and riders are advised not to sleep, as they might not wake up with all their limbs.
Free’e Station (Lothren)
Free’e Station is a fortified sub-surface terminal carved into ancient bedrock, accessible only through locked stone hatches or internal Empire routes. The vaulted ceilings drip condensation onto reinforced bone-chitin platforms where massive centipedes await orders. Iron rails guide them into launch tunnels stretching for hundreds of kilometers. Dwarf-etched runes glow dimly in the walls, stabilizing vibrations and repelling collapse. Seating is cramped and stinks faintly of musk and egg membrane. While travel is efficient at 40 km/h across vast, unmapped networks, it is never safe due to Bolton raiders who often breach tunnels mid-transit. Most stations have guards, but outside the Empire's core, passengers travel armed or not at all. The air smells faintly of blood, oil, and wet soil, and riders are advised not to sleep, as they might not wake up with all their limbs.
Free’e Station (Uther's Pass)
Free’e Station is a fortified sub-surface terminal carved into ancient bedrock, accessible only through locked stone hatches or internal Empire routes. The vaulted ceilings drip condensation onto reinforced bone-chitin platforms where massive centipedes coil silently, awaiting orders. Iron rails guide them into launch tunnels stretching for hundreds of kilometers. Dwarf-etched runes glow dimly in the walls, stabilizing vibrations and repelling collapse. Seating is bone-hinged and cramped, stinking faintly of musk and egg membrane. While travel is efficient—40 km/h across vast, unmapped networks—it is never safe. Bolton raiders often breach tunnels mid-transit, swarming like insects through maintenance shafts. Most stations have posted guards, but outside the Empire's core, passengers travel armed or not at all. The air always smells faintly of blood, oil, and wet soil. Riders are advised not to sleep, as they might not wake up with all their limbs.
Free’e Station (Vorlund)
Free’e Station is a fortified sub-surface terminal carved into ancient bedrock, accessible only through locked stone hatches or internal Empire routes. The vaulted ceilings drip condensation onto reinforced bone-chitin platforms where massive centipedes await orders. Iron rails guide them into launch tunnels stretching for hundreds of kilometers. Dwarf-etched runes glow dimly in the walls, stabilizing vibrations and repelling collapse. Seating is cramped and stinks faintly of musk and egg membrane. While travel is efficient at 40 km/h across vast, unmapped networks, it is never safe due to Bolton raiders who often breach tunnels mid-transit. Most stations have guards, but outside the Empire's core, passengers travel armed or not at all. The air smells faintly of blood, oil, and wet soil, and riders are advised not to sleep, as they might not wake up with all their limbs.
Free’e Station (Vornhald)
Free’e Station is a fortified sub-surface terminal carved into ancient bedrock, accessible only through locked stone hatches or internal Empire routes. The vaulted ceilings drip condensation onto reinforced bone-chitin platforms where massive centipedes await orders. Iron rails guide them into launch tunnels stretching for hundreds of kilometers. Dwarf-etched runes glow dimly in the walls, stabilizing vibrations and repelling collapse. Seating is cramped and stinks faintly of musk and egg membrane. While travel is efficient at 40 km/h across vast, unmapped networks, it is never safe due to Bolton raiders who often breach tunnels mid-transit. Most stations have posted guards, but outside the Empire's core, passengers travel armed or not at all. The air smells faintly of blood, oil, and wet soil, and riders are advised not to sleep, as they might not wake up with all their limbs.
Gate between Mercyland and Hen Livon
The Gate of Sorrow stands as a grim threshold between the realm of Mercyland and the dark depths of Behoff's Lair. Guarded by stern sentinels, the area is littered with the bodies of the fallen, being transferred and cleaned by specialized units clad in grim uniforms. The air is thick with the stench of decay and antiseptic, a constant reminder of the horrors that lie beneath. This gate serves as a chilling reminder of the price of passage between two worlds, where mercy is but a fleeting illusion.
Gritha's Orphanage
A grim orphanage run by the brutal Gritha, where those who defy the empire's laws are sent to work. The atmosphere is oppressive, filled with fear and despair, as Gritha enforces her violent rules with an iron fist. Respect her, and you may survive; defy her, and you face horrific consequences. This is a last refuge for the desperate.
Guard's Barracks
The Emperor's Guard Barracks in Lothren stands as a formidable structure, built from sturdy stone and adorned with the imperial insignia. The first floor houses the training grounds, where guards practice their combat skills and maintain their weapons. The air is filled with the sounds of clashing steel and the shouts of instructors. The second floor contains the living quarters, featuring simple yet comfortable rooms for the guards. Each room is equipped with a bed, a small desk, and a chest for personal belongings. The barracks also include a communal dining area where guards gather to share meals and stories. A watchtower rises above the barracks, providing a vantage point to survey the surrounding area. The atmosphere is one of discipline and camaraderie, as the guards prepare to protect the emperor and uphold the law of Lothren.
Hall
Hall is a grand structure made entirely of bioluminescent mushrooms, casting an eerie glow over the paperwork-laden desks. Inside, grotesque male clerks, with their deformed features, scramble to keep up with the incessantly walking mushroom paper that seems to have a mind of its own. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, while the walls echo with the unintelligible chatter of the inhabitants, their made-up language a cacophony of grunts and squeaks. Beautiful women glide through the hall, their movements fluid and mesmerizing, using their swaying forms to communicate in a dance-like manner. The mushrooms lining the hall, with their Harvard-like intellect, offer cryptic advice that rarely answers the questions posed to them. The atmosphere is a blend of grotesque and enchanting, a reflection of the city itself, where beauty and horror coexist in a twisted harmony.
Henry's Descent (Bottom)
A treacherous mountain road leads to a towering 45-meter rope ladder, swaying perilously in the relentless wind. This forgotten path, once crafted by the ambitious Henry 400 years ago, is now a desolate site where a camp of four deformed orcs resides. These dimwitted creatures spend their days discussing their crude desires for female companionship, charging weary travelers a toll to use the ladder. The air is thick with the scent of neglect and desperation, as few dare to traverse this hazardous route.
Henry’s Descent (Top)
Atop the jagged maw of Henry’s Descent lies a brutalist orc encampment, a chaotic settlement of splintered timber and rust-bitten steel. Here, deformed orc women reign supreme, idolized and feared, while the men serve as mere tools, enduring a life of servitude and suffering. The camp features overcrowded barracks, a grim training yard, and the chaotic Pleasure Grounds where the women indulge in revelry, all under a twisted hierarchy of strength and fear.
Hierophant's Chamber
The Hierophant's Chamber serves as the main base of operations for the Flayed Choir within the Scarlet Necropolis. It is here that the cult's high-ranking members conduct their blasphemous rituals, oversee the butchering of sacrifices, and plot their insidious schemes to further the Iron Empire's reign of terror. The chamber is a place of unspeakable horror, where the boundaries between life and death, sanity and madness, are blurred beyond recognition.
Iron Peaks
A mountain range scarred by centuries of brutal mining operations, now rumored to be haunted by something far more sinister than the usual horrors of Ebon. The Iron Peaks are a monument to the Empire's insatiable hunger for resources and a testament to the suffering it inflicts.
Khar'Vesk
Khar'Vesk is a dark and imposing stronghold etched into the heart of Lothren. Its jagged silhouette looms over the city, a stark contrast to the elven architecture, embodying the scars of an ancient war. Inside, the air is thick with the weight of history, where cold stone floors lead to iron-clad chambers marked by blood. Veylan Vortheis rules from a crucible of control, surrounded by inquisitors ready to enforce the Emperor's will in a place where duty reigns supreme.
Krones Arena
Krones Arena is a brutal battleground where only the most fearless fighters dare to enter. Known for its blood-soaked history, the arena hosts fights that are fought without weapons, allowing anything goes in the pursuit of victory. Spectators gather to witness the raw power and ferocity of the combatants, making it a place of both fear and admiration.
Local Drink Place in Lothren
A grimy tavern in Lothren, known for its cheap drinks and rough clientele. It's a place where locals come to drown their sorrows, make shady deals, and occasionally start brawls. Whispers and rumors flow freely here, making it a useful place to gather information, if you can stomach the atmosphere.
Lord Oberon's Mansion
Lord Oberon's mansion is built from human remains. Floors are compressed skulls, walls lined with spines, chairs from fused ribcages. Over 200 preserved bodies—rebels, priests, deserters—stand upright in glass cylinders across every hallway. Skin peeled clean, rest stuffed with dense fiber. Plaques mark name, charge, method of death. No smell. No rot. Everything sealed. Some are displayed in poses, others cut open to show interiors. The staircase is a spiral of femurs and vertebrae, reinforced with iron rods. Doors are stretched skin over bone frames. Tables, shelves, banisters—nothing built from anything else. Every item labeled. Every corpse cataloged. No windows. No light but oil lamps. The office sits at the top, past a final hall of failed assassins, stitched smiling.
Lothren Imperial Arena
The Lothren Imperial Arena stands as a testament to the Iron Empire's brutality and the Emperor's absolute power. Here, grand spectacles of death and suffering are staged for the twisted amusement of the nobility and the terror of the masses. It is the site of annual sacrifices, gladiatorial contests, and other depraved displays of imperial might.
Lothren Library
The Lothren Library is a grand yet unsettling place filled with thousands of books, most of which serve as imperial propaganda. At its center lies a fire pit that is rumored to show glimpses of the future to those who dare to let themselves burn, leaving behind a lifelong black scar. The library is overseen by a stunning librarian with eight hands, deftly managing the tomes that mostly detail cannibalism and grotesque culinary practices, with only a few containing the true lore of the world.
Mercyland Breeding Pasture and Meat Factory
In the heart of Mercyland lies a grim breeding pasture, a stark reminder of the empire's ruthless practices. Here, human females are meticulously sorted and taken to designated areas for controlled breeding, where selected males are brought forth to ensure the continuation of specific traits. Meanwhile, the males deemed unfit for breeding are sent to the adjacent meat factory. This facility operates with chilling efficiency, stripping the flesh and bones from these men, transforming them into various products that are distributed throughout the empire. The factory's output includes clothing, jewelry, and other goods, all crafted from the remains of those who once lived. The entire operation is shrouded in secrecy, with guards patrolling the perimeter to prevent any escape or rebellion. The breeding pasture is a place of cold calculation, where human lives are reduced to mere commodities, and the cycle of life and death is manipulated for profit.
Port Perka
Port Perka is a stone port city known for its chaotic marketplace and diverse merchants. The port accommodates both small and large ships, making it a hub of trade and commerce. However, the lively atmosphere is often marred by the presence of skilled pickpockets, making it wise for visitors to keep a close eye on their belongings.
Precipice Cells
The Precipice Cells are a series of small, isolated cells clinging to the side of a vast chasm. Inmates are placed here as punishment for crimes against the Iron Empire, often for crimes against nobility, where the fear of heights and isolation slowly drives them mad. Escape is impossible, and death by falling is common. Nightmarish visions plague the prisoners, amplified by the sheer drop below.
Quota Keep
Guards here aren’t soldiers—they’re butchers in uniform. Recruits train by flaying live prisoners strapped to wooden frames, learning to peel skin without killing too fast. Off-duty guards bet on slave fights in the central pit: two malnourished breeders clawing each other’s eyes out for scraps of moldy bread. Every guard spends one shift a week in the rape pits, “breaking in” new stock. Bunks reek of sweat and bloodstained uniforms. Stolen jewelry—torn from slaves during inspections—dangles from rusted bedframes. Deserters get fed to the incinerators.
Stables
The stables serve as the primary source of mounts for the Imperial Guard and messengers. The horses are bred and broken with ruthless efficiency, their spirits crushed under the weight of the Empire's cruelty. Whispers circulate of darker purposes for the stables, rumors of grotesque experiments and flesh-crafting performed on the unfortunate creatures within.
Tarrins Finger
Tarrins Finger is a small, rocky island that rises sharply from the sea, formed from the petrified remains of the giant Tarrin's severed finger. The cliffs are steep and treacherous, and the island is overrun with wild goats that have developed a taste for anything that dares to set foot on their territory, including humans and other animals.
The Black Crown Palace
A sprawling obsidian fortress that dominates the skyline of Lothren, its jagged spires piercing the overcast sky. The walls are sheer and unadorned, crafted from dark stone that absorbs light, while rivers of black ichor stain the surrounding district. Watchtowers manned by armored figures guard the gates, which are flanked by grotesque statues, creating an atmosphere of dread. Inside, the Throne Room is a vast chamber of black marble, heavy with the scent of incense and blood, adorned with grotesque tapestries. The Grand Audience Hall is filled with iron cages and the stench of decay, while the Emperor's Private Chambers are stark and focused on power. Below, the Dungeons echo with the screams of the damned, a testament to the Emperor's cruelty.
The Blood Pit
A grim arena sunken into the lower tier of the city, surrounded by spiked mesh and stained concrete. Slaves are forced to fight for survival, armed only with makeshift weapons, while masked nobles above place bets on the carnage. Overseers ensure the violence never ceases, shocking those who hesitate until blood spills. The stench of sweat and fear fills the air, and the sound of grinding corpses echoes from behind the walls, as the pit remains a relentless spectacle of brutality.
The Breeding Grounds of the Free'e
This vast network of caverns serves as the breeding ground for the Free'e, the domesticated centipedes revered by the dwarves. Over the years, the small cavern has expanded into a sprawling maze filled with loose wood and dirt, providing a nurturing environment for the delicate eggs. Dwarven caretakers meticulously tend to the eggs, ensuring their safety and facilitating the growth of the Free'e population. The caverns are alive with the sounds of movement as the centipedes scuttle about, while the dwarves work diligently to maintain the delicate balance of this ecosystem. The arrangement of tunnels allows for easy access to the eggs, which are harvested for their culinary value, while the presence of Boltons adds an element of danger to the otherwise industrious atmosphere.
The Cages of the Free'es Queen
Deep within the heart of the mountain lies a grim dungeon known as The Cells, where the Free'es Queen is held captive. The cells, carved from the very stone of the mountain, are lined with metal bars, each one a reminder of her imprisonment. The dwarves manipulate her powers to create a subterranean transportation system, exploiting her abilities for their own gain.
The Children’s Separation Factory
A grim factory hidden beneath the bones of Hen Livon’s processing sector, designed to assess newly bred children for their fates under noble control. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and iron, and the concrete walls are adorned with grotesque sculptures of screaming infants. Each chamber serves a different purpose, from breeding contests to manufacturing, with surveillance ensuring that every act of degradation is documented. The factory is a place of horror, where the rejected are recycled for entertainment or study, and no one leaves without taking something with them.
The Dwarven King's Palace
The grand palace of the dwarven king stands proudly in the heart of the city, its gold-plated walls shimmering in the sunlight. Adorned with exquisite gemstones and intricate ornaments, the palace is a testament to dwarven craftsmanship and wealth. Guarded by 25 vigilant guards at all times, it serves as both a royal residence and a symbol of dwarven power.
The Enchanted Snowfield
Nestled in the heart of a towering mountain range, The Enchanted Snowfield is a vast, flat expanse of pristine snow, accessible only by a thrilling slide down the icy slopes. Here, ethereal fairy-like beings dance and frolic, their bodies unnaturally perfect and alluring, as they laugh and play in a whimsical display of joy. These enchanting creatures, all female, seek companionship and yearn for children, inviting any men who dare to approach to partake in intimate encounters, promising eternal attention in return for their commitment. However, those who accept their invitation find themselves cursed to remain in this magical realm forever, surrounded by beauty and laughter, yet bound to a life of servitude to their desires.
The Hysos Monument
The Hysos Monument stands as a crumbling testament to the once-mighty god of war, Hysos, who was said to have been defeated by the emperor. This 30-meter tall statue, depicting a half-man, half-bull figure wielding a massive double-edged war axe, looms over the landscape, its surface weathered and cracked from centuries of neglect. Adventurers can climb the monument, navigating its precarious ledges and crumbling stone, while the air is thick with the echoes of ancient battles long forgotten.
The Main Gate of Mercyland
The Main Gate of Mercyland serves as the grim threshold into a breeding camp where humans are raised like livestock. Here, the Emperor's guards maintain a strict watch over the vast fields, ensuring that the 'stock' is kept in line and productive. The gate is flanked by towering walls, adorned with barbed wire and surveillance towers, creating an atmosphere of oppression. Inside, the main office coordinates the operations, overseeing the movement of humans to processing towers that loom ominously in the distance. The surrounding area is filled with cages, where the 'livestock' await their fate, while transport roads facilitate the grim logistics of this calculated machine. The once-vibrant lands of Hen Livon are now a calculated system of despair, devoid of chaos, where life is reduced to mere resources for the Empire's insatiable hunger.
The Mayonnaise Emporium
A bizarre shop run by a man obsessed with mayonnaise, selling potent yet utterly useless magic items. The shop is filled with jars of mayonnaise, each labeled with strange incantations that promise incredible effects but deliver nothing of value. The proprietor is rumored to be a Djinn, elusive and uncatchable, while his silent partner, a man sent 400 years ago to investigate him, now merely assists in the shop, exuding an aura of annoyance.
The Outcast Caves
Nestled against the jagged cliffs of Vorlund, the Outcast Caves serve as a refuge for those shunned by society. Within these narrow passages, a handful of exiles carve out a meager existence, relying on the remnants of the skeletal elven ruins for shelter. Here, survival is paramount; alliances are fleeting, and betrayal is a constant threat as the outcasts navigate the treacherous dynamics of their new home. Water is hoarded and fiercely protected, leading to violent confrontations among the desperate inhabitants. The caves echo with the whispers of past betrayals, as the outcasts plot their next moves, often at the expense of their own kin. In this grim sanctuary, the line between friend and foe blurs, and the price of safety is often the sacrifice of one's morals. The Outcast Caves are a microcosm of Vorlund's harsh reality, where freedom is a mirage and trust is a dangerous gamble.
The Overseer's House
The Overseer's House stands as the grim heart of Mercyland, where the brutal perverse experiments on humans are conducted under the watchful eye of the main overseer. Here, millions of files are meticulously cataloged, detailing the breeding and treatment of the human livestock. The air is thick with the weight of despair as overseers and guards move about, ensuring that every aspect of the operation runs smoothly. In the depths of the house, dark chambers are filled with the sounds of machinery and the cries of the 'stock', as they are subjected to horrific experiments designed to enhance their utility as resources. The overseer, a figure of cold calculation, oversees the operations with a detached cruelty, ensuring that no detail is overlooked in the pursuit of efficiency and control. This is a place where humanity is stripped away, and life is reduced to mere data points in a monstrous ledger.
The Rendering Vats
A cavern of steel grinders and boiling pools. Dead stock—failed experiments, spent breeders, disobedient meat—gets tossed into bone-crushers. Flesh slurry pipes into nutrient tanks to feed the living stock. Skulls are polished into chamber pots for noble suites. Fat gets rendered into candle wax for the Emperor’s feasts. Guards here wear sealed suits, shoveling viscera while overseers tally quotas. Some slaves still twitching get thrown in alive—their screams muffled by the machinery. Nobles occasionally tour the catwalks, sipping wine as they bet on which vat boils fastest.
The Rust-Stained Oubliette Beneath Khar’Vesk’s Northern Tribunal Chamber
A hidden oubliette beneath the Khar’Vesk northern tribunal chamber, used as a morgue for heretics and those deemed undesirable by the Iron Empire. The local inquisitors refuse to enter due to a mysterious creature lurking in the ducts. The air is thick with rot, and the floors vibrate with an unsettling energy.
The Scarred Refuge
The Scarred Refuge is a hard-won settlement, a testament to the brutal fight against the Iron Empire. Here, the 'dine hall' serves as the domain of a doll-faced leader, a survivor of the Empire's breeding farms, who asserts her twisted dominance over the inhabitants. The settlement is marked by stark, communal housing made from scavenged materials, where privacy is scarce and the threat of betrayal looms large. The air is filled with the sounds of rudimentary workshops and the scent of woodsmoke, while crude barbed wire fences define the perimeter, serving as a grim warning. Inside, paths of uneven dirt turn to mud in the rain, and the dine hall features a massive wooden table surrounded by the flickering glow of oil lamps, bearing witness to countless desperate meals and tense gatherings.
The Silent Pens
Slaves stand shackled in pitch-black cells, mouths sewn shut with wire. Numbers branded on their foreheads dictate their use: B-XX for breeding, L-XX for labor, M-XX for meat. Twice daily, medics inject experimental serums into their necks to test fertility or pain thresholds. Those who collapse get dragged to the “show floor”—a glass-walled chamber where nobles watch surgeons dissect them awake. Children with defects are caged separately, forced to mimic animal sounds for guards’ amusement. Disobedience means being strung upside-down in the mess hall, throat slit slow so the others hear the drip.
Unnamed Village near Lothren
This unnamed village squats just beyond the walls of Lothren, a testament to the Empire's iron grip. Its inhabitants, mostly human chattel, eke out a miserable existence under the constant threat of the whip and the tax collector. The houses are crumbling, the streets are mud-slicked, and hope is a forgotten luxury. Public floggings are a common spectacle, serving as both punishment and grim entertainment for the weary populace. Children are valued primarily for their potential as future laborers or, worse, as commodities in the flesh markets. Fear is a palpable presence, a suffocating blanket that smothers any spark of rebellion. Life here is cheap, brutal, and short, a stark reflection of Ebon under the Empire.
Uther's Processing Station
At the far side of Uther’s Pass, the Uther's Processing Station marks the beginning of the Hen Livon system. This grim location features terraced slopes that serve as patrol lanes and sorting yards, guiding stock caravans toward breeding compounds. Overseers meticulously check manifests at a checkpoint station built into the cliff base, ensuring that every fresh body is tagged for processing. Goblins relinquish control here, retreating into their holes, leaving behind a cold, systematic environment focused on quotas and inspections rather than chaos. Slaves are stripped, sprayed, and fed into the program with chilling efficiency, marking the end of their freedom and the start of a grim routine.
Uther’s Pass
Uther’s Pass is a treacherous route through the western ridge, leading to Hen Livon’s breeding estates and the tramline into Behoff’s Lair. The path is flanked by three goblin outposts, notorious for capturing travelers and dragging them into dark pits, where they are replaced by new captives each dawn. The ground is stained with iron-oxide and blood, remnants of failed escape attempts, while the chief’s chamber at the pass’s end looms ominously, carved into the rock and adorned with a throne of bleached skeletons, where prisoners await their grim fate.
Uzkhathar
Carved into a weeping basalt outcrop below Khar’Vesk, Uzkhathar is a tavern known for its shadowy entrance framed by fossilized leviathan ribs. Inside, patrons are enveloped in the scent of blackroot ale and the faint hum of the Shivering Veil, a wardstone that repels imperial spies. The interior features chitinous booths made from extinct cliff-scorpion carapaces and bone-ash tapestries depicting the ancient Wars of Unknitting. The bar is a slab of vitrified voidstone, eternally damp from the abyssal cold within. A secret backroom, accessible through a tunnel lined with mummified hands, contains a black mirror that reveals drinkers' deaths for a drop of blood.
Veylan's Retreat
A lavish residence gifted to High Inquisitor Veylan Vortheis by the Emperor of Ebon. It stands as a defiant symbol of the Empire's absolute power and contempt for the enslaved populace. The house is perpetually staffed by 14 exquisite women, sourced daily from the Empire's premier breeding farms. These women, representing the highest tier of beauty and docility, are assigned to various 'work spots' throughout the house, ensuring every aspect of Veylan's comfort and pleasure, and are regularly replaced with fresh subjects.
Vortheis Bloodline Villa
The Vortheis Bloodline Villa rises like a black scar over Lothren—three stories of obsidian-like stone that drinks the light. Angular, cold, and cruel in design, its slit-thin windows reveal only shadow. A spiked iron wall surrounds it, choked with thorned black vines that twitch subtly, like they breathe. The grounds are no garden—just warped trees clawing at a grey sky. The silence inside the walls is unnatural, broken only by rustling brush or the distant wail of unseen things. Gargoyles cling to the eaves with sickening realism, their eyes tracking movement. Inside: cold corridors, massive echoing halls, bloodstained tapestries of ancestral cruelty, and chambers filled with forbidden relics. The deeper you go, the worse it gets—crypts, labs, ritual rooms. The air stinks of dust, old blood, and something sharp and chemical. Locals whisper of flickering lights and muffled screams. This isn’t a home—it’s a sanctum of horror, the Vortheis seat of power and dread.
Waldemar's Shore
An unmapped island featuring a mysterious shore where adventurers may arrive by ship. The area is home to 300 exact copies of a gnome named Waldemar, who live in tall grass and function as a hive mind. They fiercely protect their territory, cultivating gardens for food and wine, while legends warn of Waldemar's bloodthirsty nature, particularly towards children who neglect their prayers to the Emperor at night.
Watchpoint of Krones Cor
Perched atop the highest peak of the city, the Watchpoint of Krones Cor offers a breathtaking view of the surrounding lands of Ebon and the distant Blue Mountains. This fortified lookout is exclusively reserved for watchmen tasked with safeguarding the city from potential threats, providing them with a strategic vantage point to survey the horizon.
Water Goblin Nest
A grotesque hive of water goblins, this 8m diameter structure is crafted from countless small spheres of swamp grass, suspended above the murky waters. Bound by numerous strands of grass to the surrounding trees evoking a sense of dread and triggering trypophobia in those who gaze upon it.
cells
The cells beneath Khar'Vesk serve as a holding place for prisoners awaiting interrogation, torture, or execution. Few who enter ever leave.
the tavern that Skrixt knows
A seedy tavern in Khar'Vesk known to Skrixt the Gutspiller. It's a place of cheap grog, rough entertainment, and even rougher clientele. A place where one might find solace in the bottom of a tankard or a fleeting moment of pleasure in the arms of a stranger.