Abyssal Dwarf army to come soon.
The palace halls glowed red in the light of the fires outside. Flames of the eternal Abyss flickered and danced in the lampstands, the silence of unnatural magic as tortured souls writhed in agony in the shadows on the walls. Their twisted motions made to appear as a grim mockery of dancing courtiers at a dimly lit soirée. At the end of the darkened hall, on the balcony stood a solitary figure of diminutive stature. He gazed out over the factory floor, as machines of infernal design rolled cannon after cannon down a winding conveyor to the waiting hands of a team of wretched looking goblins to be loaded onto iron rail cars to be carried to the next station of the assembly process. Slaves toiled on a hundred different platforms in a twisted maze of machinery and fire as forges and smelters belched and roared as the demons trapped within screamed for release from their binding labors. If there was ever an apt description for hell, Zharr-Saddam, the Firey Mountain, would have be