Miasma

There is a place between sleep and waking, between life and death, between clarity and madness.  This place is called the Miasma: a shadowy and obscure realm that dwells where nothing should exist and time bleeds into itself.  Only priests of the Dread Gods, or the truly insane, are able to perceive it.  This is both a blessing and a curse, because those who can see the Dread Gods clearly can be seen just the same.  Those who speak to them can be spoken to, though the deepest wisdom comes at a terrible price.  In this place they have made their divine realms, vast realities where they and the spirits of their most devout followers dwell.  These domains are both paradise and perdition for those who abide there.

Hadal

Hadal has been described as an inferno contained within a suit of sharp obsidian plate, billowing ash and smoke that falls about the shoulders like a cape. It wields a single blade of living smoke and flame that grows and shrinks at will of its master.  The voice of Hadal sounds like a firestorm and causes the ears of the listener to blister and burn painfully.

The Hall of Spite is a vast volcanic cavern filled with caustic smoke and soul stifling heat.  Every step is upon smoldering embers, every breath is laced with cinders.  Though each moment in this place is misery, the misery quickly becomes desirable, for with every moment of suffering the wanderer grows stronger.  Within the fumes lurk the shades of those souls that the faithful had slain in Hadal’s name, armed and burning just the same.  With every strike and cut, the souls of both flare and grow in size and power.  Eventually their flames consume one another, the more powerful of the two devouring the soul of the other.  Then the faithful resumes their wandering, watching eternally for their next challenger.  Whenever the faithful are defeated, as they themselves are consumed by their own spite, those who were once joined in agony are released to be reborn in flame and begin the cycle again.

Silence

Silence is nearly impossible to discern, even for the most practiced auger.  Those who have glimpsed Silence describe a shifting skeletal figure bearing a bow and wrapped in a cloak of oblivion.  Silence rarely speaks, and when it does the listener is often struck dead.  Those who are not immediately slain and survive the resulting coma are gifted, but never the same.

The Scourge Temple is an ever-changing labyrinth wrought from pure shadow.  The faithful enter here to forever seek the souls of those in life slain by their hands.  Those souls in turn seek them back, filled with resentment and bitterness for the one who took them from life.  Within this labyrinth exists all the places of import to the faithful, albeit diminished and decaying, and within each or any they might find a foe seeking vengeance.  If they succeed in reclaiming the souls of those who dwell there, or if they themselves are defeated, the walls and passageways of the Temple swirl and reform in a different configuration, separating all souls to begin their search once again.

Taiga

Taiga appears as a tall figure clad in a carapace of ice covered with small shards of moonlight protruding from its surface.  It carries a spear of refined heartwood sheathed in cold fire that chills even from a distance.  The voice of Taiga bears resemblance to the howl of wolves, the roar of a big cat, and a raging wind.  Those who hear the voice of Taiga are unnerved and chilled.

The Shrine of Purpose is an expansive wild space that is individual for each who enters it.  Its exact biome depends purely on where the faithful’s beast idol dwelt.  Within these personal hunting grounds, the devotee is compelled to joyfully stalk the souls of those who they once killed in the name of Taiga, reborn as creatures native to that biome in the real world.  It is an apparent utopia.  But danger lurks here, because always on the trail of the wanderer is a feral and extreme incarnation of their chosen beast idol which they must eternally keep watch for, lest they be hunted themselves and consumed.  After a small eternity, those consumed will be reborn by moonlight to begin their hunt again.

Xeric

Xeric is living lightning dwelling within extravagant and ornate chainmail wrought of silver and gold, radiating an aura of destructive electricity.  Arcs of pure energy dance between and around the gauntlets, sometimes as flashing bolts and other times as a whirlwind screen.  The voice of Xeric is like a clap of thunder, throwing the listener from their feet with bleeding eyes.

The Crimson Altar is a ziggurat of mind-bending proportions stretching high into the distant reaches of his domain.  On each tier of this gargantuan pyramid fight warriors from across the ages, locked in a desperate contest of attrition.  To win against your opponent is to advance to the next tier, to lose is to be cast down the edge, perhaps to land at a lower tier or tumble all the way to the base where the defeated lie broken and bleeding.  There one dwells in anguish until once again compelled to climb the path to glory.  If one were to reach the top, and few do, then they would face Xeric personally.  None have ever bested Xeric, but those rare souls found worth will have their essence stitched into the stars.  Most are brutally beaten, humiliated, and cast off of the edge to begin their climb again.

Tal Kheer

Tal Kheer is a shapeshifter and appears as an identical image of whomever perceives it, but with their veins swollen with rage and eyes bulging in their sockets from barely contained madness.  Tal Kheer is so jealous that it must steal even the identity of others.  In its clenched fists it bears chunks of rotting earth which corrupt anything they touch.  The voice of Tal Kheer is a scream that is soul deep, moving the listener to rage, avarice, and extreme paranoia.

The Wretched Monument manifests much like the warren of a burrowing beast.  Within this network of tunnels are individual dens where grandiose mansions and sprawling manors are built, filled with all manner of riches and plunder.  Each of these dens is guarded by the shade of someone slain by the faithful in the name of Tal Kheer.  For each of these treasure hoards in their possession, the faithful gain great power. And so the faithful eternally quests to conquer and own it all, only to lose what they have to their own greed and have to start again.