The graves weren't only there to house the deceased and serve as a reminder of what waited most that played the game of life. Even Nemesis had pondered time and time again of how long it would be until he would face the true death. As he stalked around the endless rows of tombstones in a thick, foggy afternoon, his mind slipped in and out between what was before him and slivers of memories of the past. Most of those he had known and cared about had either passed on or simply were never seen again. Lovers, those he had sired, acquaintances, and even foes have slipped through the cracks of time and though few remained and were found, the vaewolf knew that at some point, even his own door would be knocked on by death to take him. 

He couldn't fathom what would urge him to come to the cemetery of all places today, but the feeling seemed strong, too strong to ignore. It made him chew on the side of his mouth as he continued onward, thinking about such pointless things. He still existed, perhaps in a better position than he had ever been in his long-lived life. He had a family, wealth, power several times over, but was it enough? What would his legacy be? He supposed that he hadn't given much thought about it; most of his recent time was spent chasing after any whiff of clues to the eldritch creatures but was it worth it? 

The Voice had tried to steer him away, thinking that getting too close to the truth would destroy him. Nemesis was not afraid of many things, but those things, those that could turn even gods into their playthings. What would happen to him should he get within reach of one of them? 

The god shook his head and continued on his merry way through the fog.