Stygian, the informal leader of the awakened ancient gods, describes Hellsmith with one word: inhuman. In the mouth of somebody who plots with Lords of Necroplane and has a body count in the high 4 digits, “inhuman” sounds almost like a compliment.

Hellsmith is the minor Greek deity of forges, his true name long lost in the sands of time. Asleep for aeons, gods sometimes wake up when their name once again evokes strong emotions: leaps of faith, fear, anger or lust. This is the story of the forge guardian who lived in the shadow of Hephaestus, the master of weaponsmithing. The brilliant weapons created by Hellsmith were always credited to the major deity and his frustration grew. At the time when mortals fought for Troy, messengers of Hades offered Hellsmith a chance to betray his master and become the chief armorer of Hell. The plot was uncovered by Zeus when Hellsmith betrayed himself with his drunken boasting, and the punishment was executed immediately. 

Struck down by a bolt of lightning and cast in the oily depths of Styx, the lifeless body of Hellsmith floated for many centuries until one of his most magnificent creations, the Hell Hammer, ended up as a center piece of Pulp City Museum’s exhibition. The crowds were enchanted by the evil beauty and the surge of emotions it stirred woke up the would-be armorer of Hell. Now, recovering his power in Pulp City, Hellsmith is a vital tool in the hands of Stygian, who gathers an army of forgotten gods.

There is not much wit or intelligence in Hellsmith. He makes up for it with commitment and persistence. He doesn’t have many sworn enemies since being “an enemy of Hellsmith” is a very temporary state: it lasts only until he hunts you down.

Cold eyes staring from the depths of the horned Spartan helmet freeze his victims until the moment when reality comes crashing down in the crushing blow of the Hell Hammer.