A wasteland. Cold, starved for light, for warmth, for life.

It was this place, an ancient crater from an occurrence long-forgotten by the universe, but not to Udo, that he decided to call his home. He knows what caused it. He knows very well, because it was he, exiled by the Gods, whom had created it upon his inevitable arrival in this plane of existence.

Udo built his palace to remind his subjects of their servitude. A palace of Lapiz Lazuli, carved from that within which he'd been imprisoned in for so long, as a grim reminder of what had been. His malice and malcontent poured through every square inch of it's construction in his mind, and from his thought it was carved of the living stone of the meteorite. It's polish was like no stonework on earth or Elutheria, but they would come to know it through what few descriptions of it ever managed to get out.

it was a towering thing of beauty to behold, if not for the towering stone giants carved of the same stone in the same breath as the castle itself that held it aloft upon their great shoulders, their skull-like faces staring forlornly down at the surrounding lands, so that nothing escaped it's gaze. Their stretched jaws giving way to smooth facial features with no mouths to speak of. Rich veins of gold ran away down their gleaming faces like tears, as if the very stone wept in agony from having held this massive weight for countless years.