The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Herod Westwood: LXXXIX

Poking the beehive: LXXXIX

"What the hell is so special about this thing?" Herod flipped through the book curiously. The last month and a half of getting to know his friends had taught him that questioning the ticks and character traits of said friends would be a mistake. But c'mon! In his defense this one was just too interesting. He stared up at the moon waiting for the break of dawn as he sipped a cup of water and continued to parse his way through Markos's journal. He wasn't a bad man; he did ask for permission; it was just so fascinating on what exactly the half-elf had done, and even more interesting was how well he had documented it. "If I read one more god damn dumb passage about the moon.."

'Does any of this even make sense to you?!' Vulity formed on his shoulder staring down at the book. Herod reached up to scratch her ear when he saw a flash of white come from the window. 'It worked.' Vulity cheered. 'You're right, Vulity..' He thought. It did. Pact of the moon, while not all Warlock powers were made equal he found a special place in his mind when he realized never requiring sleep again could be a bonus. Suddenly old murder dagger wouldnt be getting in. He watched this streak of soft white light fall from the window and a line of cursing could be heard below him.

"Markos." Herod whispered into the darkness, his half elf friend was sleeping on his bed nearby covered in sweat and looking rather pained by the expression on his face. "Markosss!" He hissed again. Herod rolled his eyes and closed the book, careful to keep his spot, before venturing to the sleeping cultist and shaking him lightly.

"FAH!" Markos bolted up, the air shimmered with small phantom tentacles and a portal transporting his trident into his grasp as he swung it wildly in an arc. Herod jumped back to avoid being sliced in half but ended up dropping the book. "What do you want?" It took the half-elf a few seconds before he began looking conscious. Markos was panting but eventually his purple eyes glazed over with that signature color and he seemed to come to. "Oh.."

"Markos it's me." Herod mumbled. "Dumbass." He chuckled to himself at his friends absurdity,

"Oh, what do you want?" Ever since the two of them had actually talked about Ant'tran Herod had planned this encounter. Together they had realized just what the dagger wanted, he gave him a knowing look.

"If we stay awake.." He began, starting to inch closer to the window Herod felt the soft breeze emanating from it. "He can't get into the room it seems. He's outside."

"Mother.. Fu.. If I had the option to not sleep don't you think I'd have taken it? What about the whole; Cthulhu punishes me in my dreams, do you not get?" Markos protested. Herod rolled his eyes and just nodded. He was well aware Markos couldn't avoid sleep, but Herod certainly could now, especially after that last fight.

"Well, none of that's really important because he's here." Herod tried again. Shifting sounds could be heard behind him as Markos got up and walked over to the window with him. He turned around, the cultist wasn't in his normal cult attire instead it was a simple tunic and pants both were a dark grey that looked worn from time. "Do you just want to.. Talk to him?" He shrugged realizing that they were safe in their room.

"Uh, I mean sure?" Markos replied.

"I think we're safe here and stand a better chance in fighting here. Plus I doubt he wants to kill us right now." He thought at the time the innocent murderer threatened his gods, the idea of Puderis, Vercun, Licceral, and others being murdered for his goals? Was inconceivable.

"Yeah I agree, afterall he said he wants it to be entertaining and this would be boring to kill so.." The both of them leaned over the window cracking it open somewhat so they could lean out. "Ya still there?" Markos asked, to the empty fog.