Empire of Iuz
The Empire of Iuz is a grotesque mockery of a nation—a blighted theocracy of tyranny, shaped in the image of its namesake: the demigod of deception, pain, and domination. Stretching across the broken plains north of the Vesve Forest, the empire stands as a testament to Iuz’s unquenchable lust for power and his demonic heritage. It is not merely a kingdom, but a cauldron of horror, where cruelty is law, and fear is the only currency that matters.
To dwell in the Empire of Iuz is to exist in a world stripped of mercy, hope, and light. The strong rule, the weak obey, and the dead rise again as tools of conquest. In this land, the gods are silent save for one—and his laughter echoes in every scream, in every broken oath, in every soul that falls into the Abyss.
This is no kingdom. It is a monument to horror—and it bears his name: Iuz.
Structure
The Empire is not ruled by bureaucracy, but by priesthood and terror. High priests of Iuz act as regional governors, enforcers of orthodoxy, and executioners of dissent. These clerics wield both spiritual and temporal power, declaring heresy with a whisper and sealing a city’s fate with a word.
Law is a tool for subjugation. Justice is nonexistent. Dissent is punished not only in this life, but for eternity, as souls are bartered to the Abyss in exchange for greater power.
Public Agenda
Iuz’s reach extends far beyond his borders. His empire is a contagion, spread through cults, spies, and infernal magic. His agents worm their way into foreign courts and churches, seeding unrest, betrayal, and decay. He delights in breaking nations from within—through rebellion, civil war, or despair—before his armies descend.
No war with Iuz begins on a battlefield. It begins in shadows and whispers, in dreams turned to nightmares, in sacred halls turned to slaughterhouses.
Military
The Empire of Iuz commands vast and monstrous legions, made up of orcs, ogres, giants, undead, demons, and wicked men. These forces are not unified by kinship, but by terror and bloodlust. Each army marches under the crimson eye of Iuz, razing lands, defiling temples, and dragging prisoners back for torment or worse.
Leading these hosts are Iuz’s lieutenants, often demonic warlords or undead champions, each ruling a portion of his domain in exchange for absolute loyalty. Infighting is common, but Iuz permits it, seeing such savagery as a crucible for strength.
The landscape of the Empire of Iuz is war-scarred and unnatural. Once fertile, its fields are now blighted by necromancy and stained with blood. Forests are twisted, rivers run sluggish with ash, and the air hangs heavy with despair. Fortresses of bone, obsidian, and black iron dot the land, garrisoned by monstrous soldiers and ruled by warlocks and high priests loyal to their dread sovereign.
The land knows no peace. Slavery is rampant, rebellion is met with annihilation, and the only law is Iuz’s will. Death is not an escape, for the fallen are often raised again as shambling undead in eternal service.
At the empire’s heart lies Dorakaa, a terrible city of black stone and baleful flame. Its walls are studded with screaming gargoyles and impaled corpses. Its streets teem with fiends, death cults, and soul-traders, where common folk are little more than fuel for the empire’s infernal engines.
The city’s dark temples and blood-altars feed Iuz’s hunger for sacrifice. It is said that Dorakaa is pierced by a permanent rift to the Abyss, a gate through which demons pass freely into the world. Here, Iuz holds court in a palace of shadow and bone, attended by fiendish advisors, necromancers, and monstrous generals—a black-hearted court of terror.
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