Pitkeeper Devil

"Oh shit. I knew we shouldn't have come here, even if there was meant to be 'untold treasure'! See that giant looking at us? It's not just a devil, it's a fucking Pitkeeper. This was not worth it. We weren't meant to be anywhere near one of these fucking pits!"

— A panicked diabologist

 

Eternal Vigil

  In the deepest, most unyielding recesses of the Hells, where the air shimmers with heat and despair, the Pitkeepers stand vigil. They are creatures of brutal design, forged not merely in fire but in purpose, each one a manifestation of infernal discipline and as unique as the sins of the prisoners they oversee. Towering and broad, their forms are built of sinew and smouldering metal. Their flesh, if it can even be called such, is like cooled magma, blackened and cracked with veins of molten light that pulse rhythmically, as if tethered to some distant, oppressive heart. Their mouths, often toothless, emit a constant, low rumble - an eternal reminder of the ceaseless groans and screams from the pit below.   Each Pitkeeper is bound by contract to the diabolic lords, their servitude eternal and unwavering. Their charge is singular: to guard the deepest pits of damnation, where the most dangereous and insidious souls are confined. These are not the howling masses of the damned; these are the traitors, the would-be usurpers, and the powerful mortals who dared to play games with devils - and lost. For such prisoners, the Pitkeepers are more than wardens. They are torment incarnate, ensuring no punishment goes unmet and no attempt at rebellion escapes their notice.   Their weapons are chains of infernal iron, impossibly heavy and red-hot, wielded with precision and cruelty. The chains serve as both restraint and whip, binding their quarry in unbrekable loops or lashing out with devastating force. The chains are said to respond to the Pitkeeper's will, moving like serpents, seeking out those who might evade their captor's gaze.  

Infernal Visage

  They are calculating, patient, and unerringly methodical. Their eyes burn with cold intellect, twin pinpricks of searing light within cavernous sockets. They do not revel in punishment or torment, as their role is not to deliver judgment but to enforce the will of those who do. In their presence, devils fall silent, and even the most arrogant archfiends tread carefully, for the Pitkeepers are incorruptible. They cannot be bribed or persuaded, and their focus is singular: the containment of those too dangerous, even for the Hells.   Legends persist of mortals who have crossed paths with a Pitkeeper, typically as prisoners but occasionally as unlikely allies in desperate bargains. These tales invariably end with the mortal either broken, bound for eternity in the pits, or irrevocably marked by their encounter with these relentless wardens of the Hells. The mark left by a Pitkeeper is more than physical - it is an enduring reminder of the grasp of the Hells, a stain on the soul that no amount of redemption can entirely erase. Those who survive often find themselves haunted by whispers of molten chains, forever burdened with the knowledge that no one truly escapes the watchful gaze of a Pitkeeper.