Zerxus knows where to go. He isn't stalling, but he isn't rushing either; it's a very deliberate pace.

This definitely won't fool either god, but it's the principle of the thing.

As they approach the makeshift cabin, though, he just has to stop and roll his eyes. Of course the sheet of metal has been forged into a grandiose arch gilded with onyx; of course flames lick the slanted threshold, smelling of blood and ink and ash; of course the knocker is a horned skull with gleaming ruby eyes.

He glances at Kahl and murmurs, "I don't suppose you brought any of those googly eyes with you?"