Pyroclast is a molten barbarian, his body sculpted from cracked obsidian and flowing magma veins that glow fierce orange through his chiseled frame. His head is a helmet-shaped volcano skull with eyes like twin furnaces. One fist is a massive magma gauntlet that erupts with fire blasts; the other wields a flaming stone mace, jagged and dripping lava. He wears a red-hot metal loincloth held by a chain of scorched bones. Steam hisses from vents in his back every time he swings. His voice? A rumbling quake that melts snow. He’s heat, rage, and pure 80s badassery.