While the area was dark, like the night, lanterns hung almost everywhere, and the cloudless sky, and the illumination provided by Groetus, made it bright enough that everyone could see, even if the shadows that were cast made it seem more dangerous than it was.<br/><br/>The psychopomp considered them for a moment. "Sorry, I don't know that. Since you're here on business, though, I'll lead you to the local organization office. They'll know what to do," it said. It fluttered down and landed on the shoulder of the tallest person - likely Sak'bas. "That way," it said, gesturing with a wing.<br/><br/>Three hours of travel through the gloomy countryside, a perpetual nighttime mix of graveyards, crypts and rolling, open fields, filled with hundreds, if not thousands, of the recently departed, most of their forms some degree of transparent, eventually brought them to what looked like a bustling small city. The dead filtered through, some aimlessly, some moving with purpose, and some just... watching, and waiting. Carriages and wagons, filled with the souls of the dead, departed at regular intervals, while new, empty vehicles arrived from distant places, ferrying the souls from this region to another.<br/><br/>A few brief words from the nosoi, though, and they're brought into a small, comfortable building, where a skeleton, wearing a pinstripe suit, sits behind a desk, hollow eyes watching them enter, the fleshless face emotionless - though the voice seemed cheerful and friendly. "Welcome! Welcome to the Boneyard; my friend tells me you have business here, hmm? How can we be of assistance to the living?"