Marcella takes hold of a bronze ring knocker, held forth from the mouth of a leering skull, and bangs against the door several times (this same knocker, Marcella and Milo had used the last time they visited). Almost immediately there is the electric hum of electronics and the tick-clicking of clockwork machinery, as the skull's left eye lights up green with the lens of a camera. From a speaker located in the skull's right eye, a robotic voice says, "That's better. Enter."

Suddenly the double doors at Drimmle's entrance open inward with a mechanical hiss. The entryway itself (again, familiar to Marcella and Milo) is palatial, large enough to house a fountain the size of a small ground vehicle. Rich blue wallpaper depicting a cloudless sky filled with a magnificent sun line the towering walls, though much of the wallpaper is hidden behind luxurious portraits. The acolytes had previously damaged much of the entry way to hide their prior assault, but all this damage has been fixed and replaced.

Reaching up from either side of the entry are two sweeping staircases carpeted in red. Standing at the foot of the righthand stairwell is Ser Drimmle, and at the left is a humongous man armed with a heavy stubber, aimed directly at the entrance and the acolytes. "Enter, enter, quickly!" Ser Pennifry Drimmle commands. He stands leering at the acolytes, his pencil thin mustache twisting upwards cartoonishly. He was gaunt before, but despite his luxurious yellow robes, Drimmle looks absolutely frail now. Heavy bags hang under his blue eyes, the whites practically filled with red. A heavy gold chain hangs heavily around his shoulders, weighted down by a massive metal plate inlayed with circuitry and holy sigils and seals. Marcella will recognize this from her times on the Black Ship, almost immediately, as a Hexagrammic Ward. An ornate las pistol rests in his right hand, pointed directly at Marcella. "Hands up, hands up, no funny business or every one of you will be filled with lead," Ser Drimmle shrieks, twisted glee spread across his face, "and don't you even think about trying anything Wytch! One false move and I press this." With his left hand, he raises a small rectangular device, that looks like the trigger to some remote bomb.