Deep within the densest tangle of Blackburgh lies a hidden maze all its own, a private domain ruled by the mythic nalfeshnee Orengofta. Beyond its guarded door rises a throne room of white marble, its sixty-foot ceiling held aloft by thick ivory pillars, doors set here and there along the walls, and two balconies overlooking the far end — one bearing twin statues of a goat-headed demon, the other an immense throne of ivory.

Orengofta is no servant of Baphomet. He fancies himself a keeper and groundskeeper of this corner of the Abyss, and he fears what the abduction of Iomedae's Herald may unleash — a goddess enraged enough to hurl a crusade into the demon realm. He wants the herald gone, and he has been watching for Iomedae's answer to arrive.

That answer is you. Whether you come as invited guests escorted by his coloxus servants or are dragged here in chains after a defeat in the city, this hall is where the nalfeshnee will take your measure. His throne room is a place of cold judgment — and the choices made here may set the course of everything that follows.