The sixth plane of the Abyss was a wasteland of ruins.
It hadn't always been called that. Before the last great war tore through it, this place had been the territory of some forgotten power, lord of a demon fortress whose name was now lost to dust. Now, it was just the Ruin.
The shattered remains of a colossal demon statue lay half-buried in the rubble, a single, gargantuan leg still attached to its pedestal. Collapsed walls and broken ramparts cast long shadows where demonic maggots squirmed in the filth—creatures so pathetic the knights of the Light didn't even bother to purify them. The only sound was the occasional clatter of loose stones, dislodged by a stream of piss from a Paladin who couldn't hold it any longer.
"Honestly? I'm ready to go home," Cedric said, the words tumbling out in a weary sigh. "This place is a bottomless pit. It's not worth purifying. It's too big, the things in it are too strong, and we're not up to the task."
