The Wyrdspire, the only construction in the desolate land of the Waste is a towering construction of black stone and metal, standing eternal vigil over the grey shores of the sea, lightening, smoke and foul fumes forever clouding its barbed peaks. Screams and cries of agony continuously emanate from within its black depths, giving credance to the stories that surround that foul place. That the Wyrdspire is the home of creatures unnatural to this world.
In truth, Wyrdspire is little more than the home of a particularly capricious and insane Sorceror and his creations. Tszevrin Sphex is a genius and madman without equal, and his horrific creations stalk the halls of his dark domain. Barbed parapets and shadowy halls are guarded and patrolled by disfigured monstrosities and nightmarish ghouls, but this is only the surface horror of the Wyrdspire, for the true terror lies deep beneath the ground.
Hidden beneath the earth in winding catacombs and ancient tombs, lie the laboratories and slave pens, Arcane libraries and dark machines, all bent to the will of the insane Sphex. It is here in this underground realm that the true horror of the Wyrdspire is seen, where men are reforged into monsters, and demons brought to life and bound to form in wicked frames of steel and stone. Pens full of prisoners, some stolen, some bought, some willing, are kept where they will be the resources of Sphex's dark ingenuity.
Trade:
The Wyrdspire has no resources of which to trade, the barren lands offering nothing but the grey earth, instead, Sphex loans out his horrors to those who can pay for the privilage, primarily, in fresh slaves with which he can conduct more horrific experiments. These creatures have no names to the mad Warlock, but others have given them suitable titles.
Ghouls: Ghouls are nightmarish abominations that had perhaps once been men, but have since been reduced to faceless, grunting behemoths of gnarled skin and taught muscle, their physical forms warped and reshaped to the whims of the mad Sphex, they are powerful shock troops, feeling neither fear nor pain, nor any other emotion to speak of, and possessed of strength and brutality unmatched by a mortal man. Bony protrusions and fleshy growths dot their bodies, either side effects or intentions of their masters foul experiments, strange green liquid flowing where blood should reside, and wicked mechanical barbs and blade often replacing limbs in horrific fashions.
Grotesques: Similar to Ghouls in attributes alone, Grotesques stand many feet above their smaller brethren, their muscles bulging and flesh punctuated by strange arcane machines and devices. Despite their physical superiority to their Ghoul brothers, they are significantly less intelligent. Where The Ghouls assist Sphex in his experiments as attendants, Grotesques are little more than docile mountains of muscle, used for heavy labour and menial tasks. However, when the spells of aggression and rage upon their backs are activated, they become unstoppable hurricanes of slaughter, carving their way through all in their path indiscriminately, until either they die from their sustained wounds, or are effectively subdued by Sphex or his minions.
Shades: Shades are perhaps one of Sphex's most accomplished creations, dark spirits of malice and hate bound and shackled in physical form to bodies of steel and flesh. Their skin glows bright with the runes of magic required to keep such an abomination alive in the material realm, and they frequently burn with a emerald, ethereal flame as their runes flare against their unnatural existence. Intelligent and malicious, they are Sphexs scouts, assassins and terror troops, appearing without warning and moving with a speed that defies reality, it is a savinjg grace that such creatures are difficult to produce, and so are only ever present in small numbers.