The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Herod Westwood: LXVI

City of The Dead: LXVI

"So remind me again... where is this?" Herod was mostly done with walking. They would walk to the dock ward and then the trade ward, suddenly towards the upper class limits, and then back to TrollSkull. It was a dizzying array that gave him little understanding of the city.

"Waterdeep is a rectangle Herod, well.. A rectangle with a giant diagonal cut at its bottom but the shape holds." Alekzandr replied, Herod frowned, that didn't answer his question?

"The city of the dead is located between the trade ward and the south most region of the north ward. Think.. Where you buy stuff bordering on... where The Swordmaiden is." Adleth suggested. It didn't help much but he was already following them so it wasn't like it needed too. It had been roughly morning when they went in, now it was just about mid day. The sun hung over the party like a heat lamp, its hellish breath making Herod sweat and silently wish he had ice spells. The road from Gralhund villa turned from smooth pristine cobblestone, to broken and cracked pavement. The easy to walk through path became gravel and eventually just stoned dirt which crunched under his feet.

'Are we off to kill a whore?' Vulity's spirit whispered in Herod's ear, almost swimming from one side of his body to the other. 'No.. we're not.' Herod thought, he shivered a bit, he hated graveyards, he hated death. Sure no one liked the idea of dying. It was a pretty universal truth if he was being honest but that hopelessness, that gut wrenching sensation of being powerless to stop your own fate. He clenched a fist and grimaced, it was not a sensation he relished in reliving.

"Are you.. Ok?" He turned to the sound of Markos's voice, the half-elf looked at him with a worrisome expression. Glancing purple eyes full of concern, Herod smiled and nodded.

"Mostly, just hate graveyards you know? Death is already so.. Final. No point in revisiting that." Herod whispered. How long ago had it been? When he suffered from the wrath of fate, how long ago had he believed himself to be a dead man walking? Did.. he still see that within himself? Puderis said he was cured, but there were sometimes.. He didn't feel cured.

"Is it because..?" Markos's voice trailed off, Herod had told him. Hell despite the fact that the whole party saw Markos as a crazy lunatic cultist.. He saw a friendship, someone far smarter then he let on. An individual who was concerned and good Herod couldn't help but smile despite remembering his most hated sensation.

"Fate is a cruel mistress Markos.. Hands you things you will never be able to battle despite how powerful you are. Most of us.. Are only mortal." Herod wanted to say human but, in all actuality that wasn't very applicable to the whole party. 'Fate..' it was something Herod knew Markos had experience with, they had both been screwed over in different ways.

"Holy Corellon." Adleth remarked. His attention was taken off Markos for a moment, in the front, Adleth was leading the party only now she had stopped in place holding the nimblewright detector they got from The House of Inspired hands. The strange red and white umbrella at its top was spinning so rapidly he thought it might break.

"What does that mean?" Riu inquired. A few faces turned and frowned a little. He loved the Aasimar and all, but sometimes the questions were just a little.. Bit.. off.

"It means we're here.. And the Gralhunds weren't lying." Herod spotted tall diorite walls nearly twelve feet tall lacking a traditional gate you'd expect for a graveyard, fancier then Herod expected. They weren't quite at a gate per say able to spot the iron entrance a few feet away from them. He took a step forward with the party beelining for the fence.

"It's spinning faster." Adleth mentioned. "At least I think it is? Wheres a fucking guide when you need one.."

"It's spinning slower." Alekzandr interrupted. "And.. now a bit slower still, as we get closer to the gate.." Herod squinted his eyes, how on Toril could Alekzandr tell the difference? It was practically identical either way. Herod spun on his heels, feeling the glance of Asher doing the same, they scanned the surroundings. Thank god people didn't seem to want to visit a cemetery. The ward seemed mostly empty, where.. Where was their Nimblewright? Where was that killer..