Vorgath never slept, neither did Vladimir. They watched the interesting sinners who stumbled into their domain, eagerly awaiting who might come for them. This endless vigil was a peculiar sort of entertainment in the depths of the underworld.
Silverstein strode into the cavernous chamber with Vladimir at his side. He immediately noticed that Vorgath wasn't lounging on his customary throne of obsidian rock but was likely holed up in his private quarters. The atmosphere was heavy with darkness, and shadows danced along the rough stone walls. As he entered, he spoke to Vladimir, who walked beside him. "I visited the man."
"The man?" Vladimir's brow furrowed in thought. "Oh, you're talking about the demon?" he asked, and Silverstein nodded.
"In my defense, he's nothing like the demon I imagined. Along the way, I thought you might have been mistaken." Silverstein's words didn't offend Vladimir; instead, they made him laugh heartily.
