The Halls of Raydetha are the fabled shelters for those who have worshipped the dark lord Borarus when they die. It is a place of Pure Evil, one where the Screams Of 1000 Souls can be heard. Truly, it is a place of Nightmare.
Few have ventured into this deadly plain. It is a barren wasteland, one of death and darkness. High above this rocky,jagged plain,is spine-chilling black sky. If it wasn't for the recurring bursts of lava that spew from the mountains, then this land would be bathed in literal darkness.
The warlok grogogon dshuut was one of the few who ventured into this realm and survived, he recorded his experiences in the jorunal, 'weary travels in the apopalyptic lands:
' This whole place, it is such a foreign thing. some days I have been here, I forgot to keep count. The gods are to thank for my survival in this stark place. Despite the large number of goblins and dronargs, the plains outside the halls of raydetha are very desolate. This makes it easy for someone like me to move about and write like this. There is no shortage of food, what I found I have eaten and their foul curses have not afflicted me as of now. I write this from a shelter known as the 'lugarn shump'. It's not as foul as the rest of this place, there were few dronargs but they were quick to dispatch. In addition to the gold i was to aqquire, i found sadly more of my non-demon comrades and what they had with them when they perished. at least this alon kept me going for some time.'