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[h3]⛼ A7 - The Ever-Burning Mausoleum ⛼[/h3][/center]
In some ways, the desire had haunted the gravekeep as he had slumbered. The reason for his journey to the central city, the city with the Abyss at its heart, had been one easily enough thought through when he had not yet been there, but now that he [i]was[/i] there, he could not deny that some part of the soul yearned for that Abyss. Some part wanted to see what was there, what others had left behind, what others had searched for and failed to find, searched for and failed to bring, or had simply…failed to come back. The hole there shifted eternally, broken eternally, and yet some slight portion of the gravekeep’s soul yearned to see the whole of that place.

Some part of the soul wanted to go there, some part that would not be satisfied by the tales of others. He wanted to go out, in any case, and the reason for such could be easily thought through and reasoned through by simple methods. The gravekeep wanted to get away from the heat of the mausoleum, the heat of the fires that seemed to permeate any and all. He had kept true to his word, though, true enough that he had not allowed the embers to touch his tome, true enough that he would leave some of his faithful at the mausoleum to pay for a place to sleep, to eat, should the other methods fail. Three men he left behind to work those fires, to perhaps speak to others should they find time to breathe, to perhaps convert some few others. It was a slight hope, and one that carried the risks inherent in those of one faith speaking to those of another, yet was a hope nonetheless.

He and the other two, however, made their way to the edge of the Abyss, to the land where men who ventured there gathered. In one occasion, the gravekeep thought that they might find a group to work alongside, yet on another…perhaps a group that would give them a distraction, a pause enough in the treading of monsters there by the clamor of the group. Perhaps, perhaps. He would need to see something or another there.