Taking everything in and finding himself beginning to accept that he might just actually be dead, Donos realized he had never paid much attention to the stories about the gods. Of course he had been in some of the temples and many in Atlantis would beseech and make sacrifice to Poseidon. However, his thoughts were that these were just stories to entertain. But looking at the Gate of Hades, and having just spent what felt like an eternity with sour Charon, was making him re-examine his feelings around this topic.

He sees the one satyr trying, to all outward appearances, to make friends with Cerberus. That is unlikely to end well.

He looks for the one with the drums. Rhaecus he called himself. He seemed the most talkative of the bunch.

"Rhaecus," Donos calls. "Do they expect us to just get in this never ending line? That is fine for the common folk, but what of the likes of us?"

Hearing Donos ask a question about the Underworld, Zaela turns her head a bit to hear, keeping an eye on Cerberus, and then replies back to Donos, "Yes, we must get in the line. Otherwise, we'll never be judged. And, if we don't get it, we're basically in Asphodel, except we'd be with Cerberus and have to see Charon all the time. Unless you want an eternity of being watched by this terrifying dog, and never find out what your soul is truly worth, I suggest getting in the line. Otherwise, you're just too scared to face the reality of your current situation."

Donos knows he is being goaded but it still stings. 

"Fear has not guided my path, but" he gestures at the length of the line, "the length of this line will, without doubt, end in a second death from everlasting boredom."

He steps towards the gate.

"I am querying as to what bars us from simply bypassing the line and traveling with purpose to its head."

The Satyr with the drums hops off the boat dances his way forward for a bit before being stopped in his tracks at Donos addressing him with such a friendly tone. 'Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise. I had thought there was something worth drawing out behind all that ego... And how right I was. A bit too easily swayed, but he will make a fine friend indeed!' He thinks to himself before responding in a delighted tone, "Why, of course Donos! But alas, I have left my heroic hat back home and so I do not think the judges of the dead will believe whatever we try to tell them to skip this silly line."

Arteusa glances over to Donos, frowning. "It's a line," she points out, gesturing. "I don't like it any more than you, but we would hardly be worthy of Elysium if we shoved all these people aside to step ahead of them."

"I like this not at all," says Donos. 

But as he sees no way around the queue, and expects that Cerberus may actually be paying more attention than he lets on, Donos steps in line with the others.

"At least this will give me time to tell you the tale of how I defeated Dicaerchus of Aetolia and his fleet of three pirate ships."

As Zaela approaches Cerberus, his three heads look up eagerly. Each one seems to belong to a different dog, from the dopey, short black furred one on the left, with the sagging jowls, to the tiny little puffball on the right that's as much snow white hair as it is dog, to the hound's head in the middle, which is the only one which remotely seems like it should be on the body of Hades' guard dog. The rightmost one, the little ball of white, lets out a short, eager yap. While the bark did not sound even remotely loud, it echoes through Zaela's bones like an earthquake, shaking her to the core. She gets the feeling that there's much, much more to this dog than the tiny pup before her.

Charon does not give the changeling a response, he just pushes off with his stick, a little more forcefully than he did when you all first boarded. Soon, he fades from sight. And there is just the line. As you wait, slowly advancing, you notice a few people not in the line, though they do not appear to be the same as the spirits in front and behind you. A few walk upon the ground, like you all, but the far greater number flit about in the skies above you. These fliers occasionally swoop down to stop near a mortal, then fly away again. You barely have the time to process this before one approaches your group from the skies above.

She is more ugly than anything you have laid eyes upon before in all your lives, and afterlives as well, though Charon certainly came close. Her skin is green and pale, stretched tight upon her frail frame. It appears as if she has not eaten in centuries, and for all you know, she hasn't. Snot drips from her nose, and her face is covered in bleeding sores. Despite her maladies, a wicked grin is stretched across her face as she approaches.

"Oh, I count two, no, three mighty heroes, slain by my hand! The others will be jealous, so jealous! I never get this many!"

She cackles madly, spraying your faces with blood-flecked spittle.

"Oh, Ana, come see, come see!"

Donos looks to the others before responding. HIs initial revulsion at the site of the hag has been replaced by curiosity. He really should have paid more attention to what was going on in the temples back in Atlantis. But there was always so many more interesting things to do and see, and then when the guard called he answered and it wasn't long after that he was the protector of the city with no time for temples and religious education.

"Who is the crone who spits upon us?" he asks. "And why does she claim to have slain three of our number?"

But, from her gibes and the stories the others shared of their deaths, Donos suspects she has something to do with poison. Is there a god of poison he wonders?

Rhaecus was about to respond to Donos until this... creature appeared. In a serious display of self mastery, he manages to only slightly flinch at the sight of such a horrid woman. Surely one of the Furies, but which one? He searches his memories for clues to confirm his suspicion. "By Dionysus... How... Lovely, you are."

He blinks twice, getting his bearings together, and gives her his most roguishly charming grin (that he can muster under these circumstances).

"Now, there's no need to be rude, my friend." He hisses at Donos. "The lady has taken an interest in us. I'm not one to proclaim to be a hero, but Donos over here has slain a Kraken before. Among other things. He's practically the Heracles of Atlantis. There's no reason to kill or die by the hand of such a fine specimen." He tries, in his most amicable tone.

(Not sure what to roll on remembering that knowledge but here's a Charisma check. You can apply the specific modifier for whatever skill you want this to be. 16 )

(Hooo boy, flunked hard on that charisma. Guess there's not so much self mastery after all)

Arteusa stares up at the repulsive creature, willing herself not to immediately go for her sword. She admires Rhaecus for his attempt at charming, though his grin seemed more painful than she thinks he probably meant it to be. "What do you want?" she finally gives in and calls out to the creature, stamping one hoof impatiently. "If you are here to heckle us, get your taunting over with and depart - none here have earned your ire." Was it not enough that they were dead? She sighs, scowling. "By Nike, truly I expected different of death. If I wanted to spend my time being heckled by flying pests, I would have better to stayed on the battlefield."

Zaela looks at the woman, still staying near Cerberus. She takes a moment to think over what the lady said, and then says, "Oh, you must be Achlys. I'm sure your toxins have slain a great many heroes. Many of them are useful, I used a few across the years. Thank you, I guess."

The Changeling turns her head and leans slightly over in the direction of the creature - presumably Achlys - that has graced the small band with her presence. The ghastly appearance seemed not to scare the Changeling, as if she had already been constantly in contact with similar beings.

”Thank you for taking my life when you did, I rather appreciate it. I was in a tight spot. However, running around and touting my death was at your choosing is, rather, incorrect.”

Rhaecus is thankful that the dead do not need to eat, for if he had had lunch today it would most certainly now be on the ground. The hag does not seem bothered by this. After all, she's probably used to it.

"Indeed, indeed, Akhlys is me, I am Akhlys!"

A second pair of wings is soon heard, and another wretched woman appears, covered in wounds and scars.

"Only two today, it seems. Unfortunate, but my numbers are still higher than yours, dear sister."

"Of common folk, yes! For heroes we are tied!"

"Which means I'm still ahead."

The two hags continue bickering, until a sudden chill in the air silences them. Another winged figure approaches, dressed in black robes, with a sword at his side. He is followed by a younger-looking winged figure, dressed in white, with flowers in his hair and deep bags under his eyes. These two walk on the ground, rather than flying, despite their wings.

"Forgive my sisters, friends. They know not who they speak to. Hello, Zaela. I hope death has been treating you well, as sudden as it has been. I do apologize for not warning you earlier, but there are some who are beyond even the reaches of death himself."

Zaela, you have met this man before. This is Thanatos, god of peaceful death. You have not seen his companion before, however. Not with your eyes open, at least.

Donos watches the interaction between Zaela and Thanatos. Peaceful death rarely crossed paths with a true hero. But still, this Thanatos might have the power to alter his current predicament.  

“Did you serve this one as your master?” he asks Zaela.

He looks at the other figure with the flower in his hair, the sleepy one. Was that flower a poppy? Elpida, the queen of Atlantis had a painting of one in her chambers. Best not to dwell on those chambers right now.

Donos steps forward.

”Greetings Thanatos. I am Donos of Atlantis. I fear your realm and my adventures never overlapped. There were no quiet deaths in my life. But still, thou has power here. The power to right a wrong I hope.”

He pauses, more to take breath rather than any actual self consciousness about what he is doing. He then continues.

“Atlantis still needs my protection. I must return. Send me back.”

"Nope."

“Bah,” Donos says under his breath. “Minor gods are useless. I was right to not spend any time in the temples.”

This must be some sort of test. A labor like those of Heracles. But he can not think of any of those labors that involved standing for eternity in a line being bored by lessor deities.

Rhaecus gives a baying laugh at Donos making his request and getting shot down. "Ah, you must be Thanatos and Hypnos." He bows low with a flourish. "That was to be expected. Pardon me for the lack of tribute to you and your brother in life. You did not... uh, give the impression of a god of levity. I am a Satyr, after all, and like most of my kind, I make merry in the name of the God of Wine."

He looks over at Zaela. "Which makes your experience all the more curious. A Satyr in the service of Thanatos? Now that, promises to be an interesting story. You must tell it to me when we have a chance to relax."

Arteusa greets Thanatos and his companion with a respectful nod. "Though I have never been familiar with your domain, I am happy to meet you all the same," she remarks, glancing with a sigh at Donos, frankly a little embarrassed for him, still attempting to deny the truth. It was curious that Zaela knew him, but Arteusa was well-versed in knowing gods on a personal level - she had known Nike since she was a  child, and her parents had served Athena and Ares. "I admit I did not think expect to meet anyone of your status here," she adds after a moment, gesturing to their surroundings. "Though I am finding this place isn't at all like the tales, so I suppose I should not be surprised."

The Changeling - known as Kaneís - gives Thanatos and Hypnos a presumptuously humble, wide-eyed, and wondrous look. "It seem the Gods have graced us mere mortals with their presences! I appreciate your appearance in this decrepit place, I thought I might lave lost my way back at the Styx. It took you long enough to show up; it's more than the rest of the Pantheon did, anyways."

She then continues to laugh at Donos's self-glorifying charade. It's clear he has a chip under his shoulder about something - probably pride. It might be amusing to heckle it, depending on how long they're stuck down in the line. She also says to him, softly, "Don't push it - they don't care about you," before turning her head curiously towards the female Satyr. There's something interesting about that one. Her connection to whatever being she worships is different than the Centaur's frivolous hope - it's more similar to the one Kaneís herself has. For the first time, the Changeling seems to be asking something in earnest. "Tell me, Zaela - what is your connection with the deities?"

Suddenly overwhelmed by all the questions, the presence of three deities near her, and questions floating around her head, Zaela steps back for a moment, getting a safe distance from Cerberus. She takes a minute, her face going completely blank and flat, a strange sight. No emotions are shown on her face, which does not seem normal to the other dead heroes, but Thanatos would be familiar with what is going on in Zaela's head. She's distressed, but it doesn't show, for some reason unknown to the others. 

Moving a bit farther from Cerberus and more towards the three gods, her eyebrows become knit, glaring at Thanatos. She steps forward, eerie screams emanating from her black staff, which are the screams of the damned souls she has slain. After a moment of a blank face, Zaela realizes that her current composure may be unsettling to her companions. She then consciously causes her face to display what she is feeling inside. Anger. 

(OOC question: in greek mythology there are often contradictory statements. In some legends, Hermes is the one who drops the dead off at the River Styx in the Underworld, and in some it is instead Thanatos. I'm assuming that we're using Thanatos as the transporter of the dead, am I correct?)

"Oh, Death." She says crossly, "It was very nice of you to come and see me after what nasty trick you played on me. You're aware that I'm no longer under your command, right? That means you can't order me to attack yet another impossibly powerful divine being, again. Since Hermes decided to ignore my questions while dropping me off at your buddy Charon, you may understand my displeasure with seeing you now. Before I decide upon an action that would be inappropriate in this interaction, would you please let me know why in Hades you are hear?"

She looks more than angry, which is understandable given her recent death and its cause, but this is different. Her expression shows rage, with her unneeded breathing quickening, shoulders and neck becoming tense, and hands forced closed at her side. The anger not only is shown in her face and body language, it seems to slightly emanate from her. Those who see this can tell that she is harnessing her frustrations and anger, and radiating them out of her body (OOC, she is not yet using her Form of Dread, but may soon depending on the circumstances that happen). 

Edit: Fixed to fit the lore.