It's rather surprising that anything as nice as a park exists in this foreign city. Trust Azem to have found it. Emet-Selch already can't remember the way back to where they had left those unconscious ruffians.

After a moment of dithering, he eventually sinks down beside his friend and makes himself comfortable. This is...nice, isn't it? It hearkens back to the sort of memories he had held fast to over the long, long centuries. He, Azem, and Hythlodaeus, gathered together on some stretch of grass, simply enjoying one another's company.

He doesn't answer their question immediately, instead staring at his hands, clasped in his lap. "Ere I answer that," he says slowly, "I need to know when you came here. What were you doing last?"