Herbert, being rather preoccupied with black death in his mind and tentacled staves in his gut, entirely failed to notice Namfoodle's conceited command. Once he'd crawled to his feet, he was quickly shoved toward the exit by his fellow cultists. Not one to argue (and not possessed of the physique to fight his way back past the tide of bodies), Herbert was quickly swept away toward the main gate. Eventually, he ended up by the wagons - somewhere along the way, however, he'd managed to ditch his robe and was now clad in rather nondescript adventurer's gear. Considering how he'd previously kept his face concealed, he wouldn't have been surprised if no one recognized him - at the very least, he wasn't clad like any mage he'd ever encountered... even if he were a bit different from your average wizard. At his side hung a long scabbard that must have been terribly uncomfortable beneath the robes, and from its open end stuck the hilt and pommel of a well-crafted sword. If one didn't know better, one might have thought that, on one or two occasions, the young lad bent down as if to talk to the weapon.

Picking his way toward his own group's wagon, he arrived just in time to see the rogue jump to his seat, and decided to follow suit, himself. Climbing up to the seat right next to the bouncer, he flicked his wrist in an absent gesture of greeting - at the moment, he was rather more interested in those he did not know belonged to his own group. The Long Fang Tribe, they had said, as well as the church of Asmodeus, the necromancers, the Thieves' Guilds (the guy right next to him, obviously) and one of their own. The gnome would either be a great sorcerer, or a bumbling fool that Herbert would have to disembowel for the safety of the group. From the necromancers he expected, well, a necromancer. Sickly-looking old necrophiles... were there any other kinds? The Long Fang tribes would send some frothing barbarian, no doubt - Herbert couldn't wait to see how those people killed. It had to be a delightfully bloody affair! The church of Asmodeus was something else, though - first of all, what in the name of all that is dark and unholy could an Asmodeus be? Sadly uneducated in the attitudes and doings of demons, Herbert was left to ponder on his own... at least until the others arrived.

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