Ride into the City on a Stage Coach

"What do you mean by 'Hell'?" You probe Nealie. "Like, Hell Michigan?" She simply looks at you blankly.

"I'm not familiar with anywhere named Michigan in Hell." She states evenly. "But I mean Hell. The place where demons live, and damned souls are tortured 'til oblivion takes them."

You gape, and hurrily open the massive front door. The size is clearly meant to accommodate giants, and you have to heft quite a bit of your weight into it before it begins to slide smoothly open. Outside, you finally realize why it's so hot. Before you is an endless plain of dry baked clay. The sky is dark, covered by a thick red cloud of smoke, but there's no sign of daybreak piercing those clouds. The only light seems to come from the thick ambient glow of fiery geysers, and pools of magma, and thats not much light at all.

You hold a hand to your head. "Hell! I'm in hell." You murmur, before glancing back to Nealie. "B-but there's a way out?"

She nods. "Of course. If you're summoned, or resurrected, or if you're wealthy enough."

You laugh unexpectedly. "Wealth?" An exasperated look grows on your face. "Money can get you out of hell. Who'd have guessed."

"For a time." Nealie amends. "When you die, you still return to your proper final resting place."

"I assume we have enough money?" You ask hopefully.

She nods. "I've taken what valuable and safe items I can from Isyphenia's stores. Though many were still locked away behind traps and safes." It's only then that you notice Nealie has a modest leather backpack. It's rather small and fits comfortably above the bow of her bustle, but the top is pursed quite tightly, and looks like it could expand to be very wide. It must be another infinite bag, like your clutch.

With a nod and some resignation, you step out the door into the beautiful black marble courtyard gated in stone and wrought iron. You hear Nealie say something about getting the carriage, but again you find time distorting, as another vision comes to you.

Your vision flies through hell at a terrible pace, passing long plains, jagged mountains, a city or two, and a few grand estates like Isyphenia's. At last it comes to pass through shimmering gate that seems to exude life. On the other side is a verdant wonderland of massive trees, and rolling mountains. It abounds with life, but your vision doesn't stop there.

You see on the far horizon a dark cloud growing. Intuitively you know that it signals the opening of another hell gate... But it's different. Where as the first gate you saw felt like a tunnel, propped open with struts and eager to cave in at a moments notice, this gate feels like a wound in the earth itself. Something that's rotten, and infected, and only getting worse. At the center you see a towering giant. A mad man wearing a black crown that has sunk jagged iron teeth deep into the the mans bloody skull. All around him are terrible monsters of rotten flesh, and wailing specters.

"MISS ARVILLA!" Nealie is shaking you, and you stumble backwards. "Miss! Are you well? What's happened?" You meet the gaze of a concerned Nealie. Her hands are on your shoulders, ready to shake you again.

"Yeah... I'm fine." You manage to utter numble. "I... Uh... think I know why I'm here." She looks at you curiously, and you continue. "There's some catastrophe I need to stop... Or I guess I'm supposed to stop it, maybe I don't have to. Are visions normally a part of being a hero soul, or whatever you called me?"

She ponders your question for a moment, then shakes her head. "I do not know. I heard someone sharing the story of a suddenly rebellious **** who overturned a prince of hell with Isyphenia. She used the term hero soul, and spoke of souls possessing bodies just before their demise. But I know nothing more than that."

Returning to the present moment, you realize that a dark carriage has pulled up, being drawn by dark furred creatures vaguely equine, but horned, with expressive faces, with a long loping gate. Nealie clicks her way down the stairs in her heels, then opens the door for you. "Miss. Arvilla" She states courteously.

"You know my names not Arvilla."

"Would you like me to call you by another name?"

You ponder for a moment, then resign yourself to the fact that your old masculine name probably wouldn't fly with your current body. With a sigh, you respond, "No, I guess Arvilla will do. As you struggle getting your ridiculously voluminous dress through the small door you ask. "You know the nearest gate out of hell?"

Nealie enters after you, seeming to have none of the same difficulties you did. "No." She pauses as she settles herself in the seat. "But I know how to find it."

She pulls a string ringing a bell outside the carriage, and the mounts carry the two of you away, seeming to know exactly what to do.