Currently and for the last two hundred years, the outside, at least, of the palace was modeled after some late medieval cathedral from some backwater plane. Due to the strange name of the cathedral, the cathedral’s name had stuck, and for the last few centuries no one called it the Palace of the Concordenax, but rather by the cathedral’s own name. Antefalken had never been a particularly religious man, but he thought that if he were, this would be the name of any cathedral he’d build, the Cathedral of the Notorious Dame.
Actually, Antefalken thought, as he walked across the long bridge towards Notorious Dame, that name was a lot better than Palace of the Concordenax. After all, it wasn’t like anyone had actually seen the Concordenax in the last couple millennia. As far as anyone could tell, he’d taken a permanent vacation and gone off to parts unknown. Thus it was that the Abyss was ruled in his stead by the Triumvirate.
The Triumvirate, now there was a nasty lot. Antefalken got nightmares every time he’d had to play before them. While they’d never taken any offense at his carefully guarded melodies, they’d never seemed much inspired either. Antefalken was more than happy to restrict his playing to Archdemons and Greater Demons when he was in need of demonic favors. Demon Princes were just a bit too powerful for his peace of mind.
Antefalken walked up the blood red stone path to the main doors of the cathedral. The two demonic guards at the doors simply continued to stare straight ahead as he approached. As usual, the centermost large doors opened of their own accord, allowing Antefalken to pass within to the most unhallowed halls in all the Abyss. Inside the main doors, the design of the cathedral departed widely from what Antefalken expected the original designers of Notorious Dame intended.
Inside the light level was three times as bright as what the outside’s dingy stained glass windows could be expected to provide. Antefalken entered a long foyer that opened directly in to the main throne chamber of the Triumvirate. This particular chamber was only used for highest ceremonies and was large enough to squeeze several hundred demons or a thousand mortals in at one time. The chamber was all in brilliant white marble with heavy tracings of silver and gold adorning everything. The hall was originally designed, some said, to mimic the throne room of one of the greater gods of law and justice. Since its original conception, seven thousand years ago, the original intent had been forgotten by most. While the outside and most other rooms in the palace changed with time, and the city even more frequently, the throne room had remained constant. It was a symbol of the Triumvirate’s unwavering rule, more powerful and longer lasting than any mortal ruler could ever dream.
Antefalken chose one of several passages to his right and proceeded down one that he knew quite well. It was a long walk through seven different corridors, up one elevator, up one then down another spiral staircase, up one escalator and a ride on one moving sidewalk. Eventually he reached the large set of obsidian double doors, framed in malachite that he’d been heading for.
Quickly, he brushed his hair with one hand and straightened his collar with the other. He didn’t like dealing with the Triumvirate, but he would get close, very close. He pulled the unopened bottle of Louis XIII out from under his arm as he knocked on the doors. The echo on the other side was surprisingly loud for the heaviness of the doors. The doors opened almost immediately, as if he’d been expected, as he probably was. He glanced through the doors, blinking in the hazy red light coming from inside, a smile lit his face. “Lilith, my dear, how long has it been?” He asked as he stepped through the doors.
Demons are, in general, a rowdy and chaotic bunch of malefactors; as such, they respect few rules, except that of force. To the best ability of wizards and sages to determine, demonic society is highly chaotic and disorganized. It is much more strongly feudal than that of humans. Extremely powerful demons lord it over weaker demons, who in turn hold sway over even weaker demons. Even so, the treachery and backstabbing is still extreme. All demons are clever and crafty, always seeking advantages over others, even their own kind and their own leaders.
Even so, at least at the true top levels there is some constant, semi-stable hierarchy based solely on power. The Demon Princes, of which there are very few (13 it is believed) rule unchallenged. The Arch Demons serve the princes and the class IV demons often serve the Arch Demons and from there on down things become tangled. Further, it should be noted that at least some of the Arch Demons and Greater Demons owe only nominal allegiance to those above.
