The Gatehouse is the last refuge in Sigil for the lost, the hopeless, the insane.
The multiverse is dangerous, not only to the body and mortality, but also to the mind and soul. Dark secrets and horrible truths of a thousand planes can crush the spirit and the snap the thread of lucidity. Many the multiverse does not slay, but instead leaves broken, or mad.
"Alrigh' yer Holiness, yer arse is going in there whether ye like it or not. Don't look at me like that!" snarls one of the guards. "You've been 'ere ten years and it's about time someone did something about it. So help me, if I get word you started trying to rope the others into yer barmy schemes to torch the Mortuary I'll make sure to have you skinned alive."
"I'm sorry, I don't speak clueless." quips an accented male voice.
The guard curses viciously and opens the door, shoving a tall githzerai man into the room with such force that he nearly crashes to his knees. Hissing softly, the new arrival parts the curtain of long, matted black hair from his angular face, causing the manacles around his wrists to clink against each other. Were it not for his currently disheveled appearence he could have been considered somewhat handsome for a scion of the sundered gith races. His amber eyes narrow in a calculating manner, as though filing the interior of the room as well as the other 'residents' into his memory. For a moment the githzerai remains silent.
"That sodding idiot will get what's coming to him later." he smiles serenely. "Won't be the first time someone crossed me and got in over their head.....lovely turban, by the way. Your faces seem familiar, have we met before? Well, if I've forgotten your names please don't hold it against me.....so many people coming and going all the time makes it nigh impossible to keep a list of allies and enemies."
A little while later, two more guards appear: longtime residents of the Gatehouse might recognize these as two of the most physically strong guards in this section. They usually come out when escorting an inmate that is believed to pose a significantly greater physical threat than average. Though they seem a bit wary, the guards are neither sweating nor truly afraid, as they often are when escorting the most violent of barmies: cannibals, serial killers, arsonists, those who cut up puppies for entertainment, and so forth.
"I don't belong here," their 'guest' argues, rather calmly given the circumstances. The 'guest' in question appears to be a half-orc, with a substantial amount of something Lower Planar added in.
A very large half-orc.
A very large, female half-orc.
A very large, female, muscular half-orc.
So much so that, despite both orcish and lower-planar ancestry, she must certainly have to do a considerable amount of work to maintain that much muscle definition and tone. When not in the Gatehouse, perhaps she's a bouncer or bodyguard or some other sort of basher. Or a thug. Her voice is also deep: a contralto, and she could probably manage a countertenor without too much effort.
"Oh, we've heard that one before, haven't we?"
"Plenty of times!"
"You'd rather put me in a... a madhouse, than listen to the truth? And you call me -- me! -- the barmy one?"
"What is it this time -- Cage's portals will all open up to the Plane of Fire and burn everyone up? That was a good one."
"You forget what happened two weeks after I said that?"
"We didn't all burn up, now did we? Now, go on and meet your new... heh heh... roommates. And don't go starting any fights, either."
The guards get their new... guest... inside the room without further incident. At least this one is neither straitjacketed, attacking other inmates, nor... currently... raving. She doesn't look very friendly, though. In fact, one might receive the impression that this one firmly believes she is not insane, and is not reacting well to being shoved into a room full of 'barmies.'
One might notice further details. Her skin is a grey-green color, like that of many orcs, but those red, fiery-perdition-colored eyes practically scream out 'TIEFLING!' The very thick, black hair probably came from her orcish side. The small, surprisingly dainty-looking horns on her head did not. Despite these details, there was a human, or at least something a lot more human-appearing than an orc or a fiend, in her family tree somewhere, since her features are softer and much more human-looking than those of an orc.
She stands with her back to one of the walls, rubbing the skin around whatever bonds she's been put in (they chafe, apparently), and glowering at the other... guests... of the Gatehouse. She doesn't seem very inclined to introduce herself.
"You should know by now that those worthless guards never listen, my friend. I understand your anger at the injustice of your present situation. You don't look barmy to me. In fact, I would say you seem perfectly sane and rational. The Planes are simply not ready to hear the truth." The githzerai approaches her and offers a bow. "I am Na'Sahlih and I'd be more than honoured to hear of your exploits as well as those of our.....fellow residents....."
He appears concerned while he looks the half-orc over.
"If those bastards hadn't confiscated all of my belongings I would apply a healing salve to your wrists. They'll be rubbed raw at this rate."
Na'Sahlih cocks his head to the side as if seeing her for the first time.
"Interesting." he murmurs, taking in her unique set of features with the eye of an artist viewing a rare, beautiful painting.
(OOC: Don't worry he isn't hitting on her, though he does find her exotic. He simply appreciates women who do not fit the usual definitions of 'attractive' and cheers them on for it. Defy conformity!!! XD)
"Welcome Na'Sahlih. Welcome, Uma." The orc/tiefling quickly realizes she has not yet introduced herself by name, yet the bound medusa seems to know her already. "I am Shist, and my *ahem* companion is Indigo, both in hue and in name."
"Indigo Evening Flashes and Rumbles with the Approaching Storm ... but you can call me Igo if you want. I actually prefer the quick version." Indigo is indeed a bluish-purple, each of his scales fading to blue at the edge. He is small for a typical lizard folk, only five foot tall and rather thin. In fact he looks like an indigo kobold, though significantly larger than any other specimen of that race. That he prefers 'the quick version' is not surprising, since though he is sitting on his bunk he rocks back and forth with barely-contained nervous energy.
"Yes, well, welcome to the reintroduction dorm. Evidently you were both judged sane enough, or safe enough, to be housed with others. The idea, I believe, is to practice interacting with other beings in preparation for an eventual release back into Sigilan society. In practice, however, I have been here for quite some time, and Indigo seems to keep coming back."
"PIKE IT, STONER! I TOLD YOU SHE TRIED TO NICK ME!" The big kobold suddenly snaps at her. He leaps off his bunk and grabs a chair. He flings it, not at her but at a random wall instead. His reptilian eyes are amber-colored, and now start to spark with tiny arcs of electricity. He whispers hoarsely in draconic and lightning dances from his claws. He grabs his own biceps and there is a loud crackling sound and the smell of ozone as he shocks himself. The action actually makes his muscles spasm and he falls to the floor. It takes a couple of minutes, but when he recovers and can stand again, Igo seems calmer, satisfied. He quiveringly climbs back on his bunk and lies down with a contented sigh.
The half-orc/tiefling is immediately suspicious of anyone, in a place like the Gatehouse, trying to 'befriend' her -- especially if it's someone, scrawny gith or not, who obviously likes looking at her. He hasn't touched her or gotten into her personal space, though. He also has a rather fancy way of speaking, but she decides that he's probably just talking politely in the gith way. (To the extent that giths are polite...)
She listens to the -- Dukagsh, I'm sharing a room with a medusa -- then openly stares as Indigo... demonstrates why he's here. "Who does the judging?" From her tone, she probably thinks whoever that person is, is also a maniac.
The big half-orc looks at the githzerai who had introduced himself, and speaks to him... and the room as a whole, really. "As...Shist... said, I am called Umbrukh-Uma. I greet you." While she wonders how Shist knows of her, Uma also knows that she has a small amount of local 'fame' as a storyteller and future-peerer, and assumes that the medusa has heard of her because of this.
She looks toward Indigo, but doesn't comment on him... directly. "Why did they decide to put you in here, Shist? And you, Na'Sahlih?" She actually gets the pronunciation right, or very close to it.
Despite not being really a font of either diplomacy or wisdom, Uma manages not to ask 'What kind of barmy are you?' outright. It's what she's thinking, though.
She has been around the Asylum for as long as anyone can remember.. nearly 100 years.. and hasn't changed a bit, and this makes her a bit of an enigma, as no one alive can remember how she got here or why, she simply had been here when most entered it for their first time.
For those who had been here for a decent while, whenever it was lunch time she would be escorted by three guards and a Mage-guard at all times when outside her cell, so it wasn't difficult to spot her whenever she would enter the refectory*.
That, and the fact she is very exotic to look at, having the soft scaled skin with colours ranging from greenish-yellow belly and chest area, darker green on her "backside" and face and shoulders, with the spine area a dark, almost black blue..
Her eyes... yes her eyes.. a shiny dark malachite blazes from her eye-sockets...without any pupils that can be seen.
Another peculiar thing about her facial features is the fact that she has two large whiskers (not unlike those of Gold Dragons) on the sides of her mouth, like snakes that gently move in a breeze... her actual hair on top of her head is cut as a Mohawk but long and pure darkness flowing over her back.
*current scene*
Through the hallway from the cells you are in, you see some coruscating flash of multicoloured hues of light accompanied by some harsh foul language of what you presume what is the guards..
Then you hear some more cursing (in a very exotic language thats difficult to understand) and rattling of chains and a loud hiss that you cannot place other then that it would be some huge snake making such a sound...
then around the corner come walking the female (described above) accompanied by 4 guards and a mage-guard, one of the guards is holding the shoulder of another in an attempt to be guided as he seems stunned and perhaps blinded..
The young looking woman is dressed in white furs and has some distinct bronze bracers around her forearms, she is also chained up with 2 big chains that hold her arms wide as the guards hold them in such a fashion as to keep her from moving her arms at all, they are strained by the effort to do so though..
The guards move her to the entrée of the holding cell and the guard-mage opens it up, to have the other guards unchain her and shove her in roughly,
when she stumbles in, she (for as far as is apparent) glares at the guards, but says nothing...she looks for a place to stand, but not in the middle of the room, and makes her way there.. then proceeds to look at the others..
* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Refectory
and
http://nl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bestand:FontevraudRefectory.jpg
Na'Sahlih's reply is interrupted by the arrival of the decidedly alluring prisoner he has seen on occasion, yet never attempted to engage in conversation. One part of his brain demands he end the conversation with Uma and speak to the woman in chains, though the other part reminds him that politeness comes first and he offers her a genuine, warm smile upon hearing her request.
"The tale is long and I must first inform you there are things I am forbidden to speak of by my diety. Were I to disobey, the consquences would be......fatal. Aside from that, I will be happy to tell you what I can. In time, my diety may permit me to reveal all, but I have yet to recieve the signs."
He pauses to address the others.
"I am not usually given to such formality, yet seeing as we are to be re-entering 'normal' society, I think falling into too much cant might decrease the higher-ups more recent favourable opinions of myself. Not that I really give a damn anymore. They're just piking close-minded little thralls who are bound by their own delusions of sanity. They are the mad ones."
"I am here because the Cabal fears my gift, and wishes to control it, and me."
"Liar."
"Shut up!"
Indigo seems to be considering the suggestion for a moment, "Hmmm ... Uh, no. I don't think I will. Shist is embarrassed to tell you herself but ... " He sits up on his bunk but pauses for a moment as the newest arrival is brought in. Once the guards have left again, he continues. "See, Shist is in her 'can't use her arms' clothes because the keepers must have realized that trying to keep sharp objects away from her is futile. When I first met her, she had a pair of paralyzing eyes. Then she somehow got hold of a metal spoon and solved THAT little problem. Looks like they are also trying to give her snakes a chance to grow back, if I'm reading the turban right. Right Shist?"
"The fools know not what they do! The serpents are evil! They whisper dark secrets to me ... they ... they ... " Shist is beginning to become agitated. The others can see that behind the silk blindfold, her eye sockets are indeed empty.
Na'Sahlih's six foot five frame tenses momentarily at the medusa's visible distress. This is precisely why he must escape the Gatehouse by any means possible. For every year he spent trapped within it's halls more evil seeped into the planes and further unbalanced the multiverse. True, Na'Sahlih has not reached middle age for his race yet, though he wonders if the burden of his duties aged him mentally.
For a moment he is tempted to ask everyone if they will permit him to have the honour of burning their corpses, so as to assimilate their soul-sparks and deliver them to their eternal happiness as reunited pieces of the Walker Of The Void.
"Shist, the serpents are a test of your will. You're stronger, wiser and cunning. They won't rule over you if you break them first." he murmurs consolingly, crouching beside her.
(OOC: Yes he IS that barmy. The PCs have nothing to fear from him unless they attempt to shiv him first or betray anyone he considers a friend.)
The colourful young-looking female just silently watches the conversation, and picks at her furs... all the while glaring around her..
"Wise? Cunning? Perhaps. But strong? No, I am not strong, not any longer. My strength was spent a long time ago. Still, I know of their ways, and they cannot trick me anymore. I will beat them. But hush, they may be awake and listening. I don't know how much they may be able to overhear through the cloth."
"Wait, a githzerai Power? I thought you cutters were too busy trying to scribe the flayers to have much to do with god-bothering." Despite her tactlessness, the half-orc sounds genuinely interested in the idea.
The half-orc snorts. "You have no idea." Apparently she heartily agrees with the sentiment.
"...Yuan-ti?" Uma guesses out loud. She doesn't know a whole lot about snake or lizard people.
While she's horrified by the idea of someone doing that to themselves with a spoon... the half-orc nods, understanding. Really understanding, more than most non-residents of the Gatehouse ever would.
"I don't know that gouging out your eyes will fix that for you, though. Haven't tried it myself." If I actually thought it'd work, though...
"Shist......If I could take your pain, I would." the githzerai states quietly, a definite raw edge to his words. Na'Sahlih then returns to his previous place by Uma and lowers his voice until it is barely above a whisper.
"We don't have Powers of our own.....our ancestors did, back in the day. Sodding brain-suckers made sure they stamped it out of us along with our entire society and the whole mess after that finished the rest. I merely happened to have a very fortunate accident while running a few Primes through the Astral Plane fifteen years ago. Or was it twenty?"
He leans noticeably closer, still within reasonable boundaries unless he decides to close the gap further and risk an altercation.
"I feel I can trust you, perhaps. No, I know I can trust you. But there's no need to rush matters along. You will ask your questions and I shall answer them. What you ask is entirely up to you."
Settling onto the stone floor, he fidgets absently with the sleeves of his oversized tunic. For a moment, the edge of the manacles slip just enough to reveal something on both wrists. The twitching motions of his long-boned fingers increases noticeably and he traces the edges of the mysterious markings, flinching.
"I am......weary of this place."
She looks up at the githzerai and softly speaks;
"Weary we be.. All of us be weary, my son.. what suggestions be there in your brainbox?"
"Distracting the guards or luring them away from us would be difficult. They've had prisoners attempt escapes before.
Na'Sahlih peers at the walls.
"We might try digging through the floor or the walls. Pry a stone or two loose and hide our work. Hrm. We have no tools, though. I'm certain the doors are warded against magic and the walls are warded against breaking. What to do, what to do.....?"
He halts in mid-sentence, an expression of sudden realization lighting his handsome features.
"As much as I prefer to avoid unessescary casualties, I am willing to admit we may be forced to kill the guards."
"Kill the guards, now yer talkin! Ha!"
Shist sighs, "So quick to consider violence against others. So uncivilized. And you wonder why, Indigo, you are deemed unfit for free society?"
"Never said I wondered at that ... "
"Anyway, you needn't resort to such methods. There is a portal that periodically manifests in the doorway. I have seen it in my dreams. You, Umbruhk-Uma, will see it too. I know not the key, but there are a number of things it cannot be, such as food, utensils, keys or other things the keepers carry, or anything they bring us. Otherwise there would be a risk of activation."
"Yea, they don't call it The Gatehouse for nothing. I met a berk who claimed there was a portal in the commode whose key was shait. The keepers had him diapered at all times. Funny thing, one day, pfft he was gone. Hehehe he ha ha ha. Ooooo, ha ha ha ha Ha HA HAAH!" Again there is a smell of electricity, this time accompanied by that of smoldering bed coverings.
Umbrukh-Uma is no expert on giths, nor is she all that interested in gith culture, but she's lived in the City of Doors more than long enough (her whole life, in fact) to have picked up some basic things about them. A githzerai who went to the Astral Plane and back without getting himself shived? I'm impressed.
The half-scro does not appear interested in this option -- at least, not at this stage. She only just got here, after all. She hasn't been here for ten years or more... unlike some...
Not only does the medusa seem to have the same sort of...dreams... she does, Shist seems confident that she knows what she, Uma, will be dreaming! Disturbing... "Doesn't look like we have a lot of things between us. If the key's something like a feeling, or a song or some mibix like that, we might be in luck."
The large orc/tiefling does not look thrilled at the idea of what a room full of barmies can come up with when trying to figure out a portal key. Now what would the key be, to a portal leading OUT of a barmy house like this?
"If me be, how I was before, I would have divined us a way out of here long ago, Sissy..." (sister) the greenish young woman slisses (snake tongue/ lisp) out with a smile and makes herself comfortable on one of the beds, sitting cross legged and looking at each of the "inhabitants" in turn.. as if reading minds...thoughtfully.
After observing in silent contemplation, the githzerai speaks up.
"My blood! Try my blood!"
Na'Sahlih makes a move to bite his arm. Noticing the obvious stares, he lowers the limb, feeling prompted to explain himself.
"I understand it's probably been tried before.....but it wasn't mine. It's pretty potent stuff."
"My blood! Try my blood!"
"I understand it's probably been tried before.....but it wasn't mine. It's pretty potent stuff."
"Yea, good idea. Maybe it takes ALL of it. The dire kobold watches from his bunk with interest, to see if the zerth takes him up on his dare.
Na'sahlih glances upward, intoning a barely-audible prayer, then sinks his teeth into the flesh of his left forearm. A gurgling, half-smothered groan of pain is heard as he bites harder, causing blood to trickle from the self-inflicted injury. Not satisfied, he drives his nails into the lacerated skin and starts smearing the blood on the walls, pausing only to aggravate the wound whenever the bleeding slows. Finally, the githzerai stops, licking the blood off his arm before tearing cloth from his shirt to bind the mangled injury.
"This had better work." Na'Sahlih hisses.
He glares with a disconcertingly feral hunger in the direction of the kobold as if to indicate he would much rather have chewed through Indigo's arm instead.....perhaps his throat as well.
"This had better work." Na'Sahlih hisses.
It does not.
Though Na'Sahlih succeeds in bleeding all over the stout wooden door, no portal opens. It does, succeed, however, in getting the keepers' attention. Before the githzerai can step back from the door in defeat, the eye-level port opens. "What's going on here? Na'ss, is this your blood? Who put you up to this?"
Meanwhile, Indigo watches with astonished amusement "Tiamat's tits, he's really going to ... oh, the barmy berk ... can't kid an addle-cove, I guess ... " He shakes his head. When the portal opens, however, the keeper proves a keen reader of the room and singles the indigo reptile out.
"You, Indigo! Your forked tongue do this? By the Powers, you're not fit for society, ANY society! TRANSFER!" There is a sudden sound from the other side of the door, muffled at first but very quickly approaching. The sound of movement of multiple suits of heavy armor. The door is then unlocked [the party counts three locks, one of them a chain], and pulled open [note the hinges are on their side of the door]. A number of humanoids in plate thrust into the room. They carry large tower shields and set up a protective cordon around the doorway. The keeper, a tall human, stands just outside the doorway. "Well, Indigo? Will you come along peacefully or do the guards have to beat the vinegar out of you?"
Before he can answer (and by the look in his eyes it was probably going to be "vinegar"), a melodic voice rings from further down the hall, "Wait ... Hold that transfer. Goris, what exactly is going on here?"
"Lady Slyff, I've got gith blood all over the place, and it looks like the little shock-addict set him off intentionally.
"Then we shall summon a medical unit and a cleaning crew. Do you not think there are elements in society that will seek to take advantage of our charges' mental state? This program is to prepare them for such things. Unless you truly believe a life is in danger, do not interfere with the dorm society ... ... ... Do you believe the gith's life in danger Goris? Or the kobold's? If so, then by all means ... "
Suddenly, Indigo jumps up. The guards hunker behind their shields, ready for anything. "Hey, PIKE YOU! Pike ALL of you! I'm no pikin' kobold! You hear me? Kobolds are little, weak, stupid. I'm none of those things! I'm a pikin' DRAGON, you hear me? Step into the ring and I'll show you, berks. A DRAGON! Don't you NEVER call me a pikin' kobold!" His claws seethe with arcane electrical energy, but there are tears in his eyes.
Maybe it's sanity... no, no, the guards are supposed to be sane, anyway... Where does this portal come out? Better not be Plane of Fire... The key might have something to do with whatever plane that is...
Umbrukh-Uma is obviously disgusted when the githzerai experiments with the idea that blood might be the gate-key. It's not that she's especially squeamish; it's just that this is a strong reminder of the fact that she's in here with a bunch of barmies. At least in her own mind, the half-orc/tiefling is quite sane.
Sod it, and me without so much as a toothpick. Well before the guards enter, Uma moves to the most darkened corner of the room she can find and assumes her best 'Don't mind me, I'm just minding my own business, now pike off' pose, with muscular arms crossed over her chest. While most of the attention of the Gatehouse's minders is on Na'Sahlih and Indigo, the half-scro's eyes are looking the guards over for the location (and liftability) of any key rings or weapons. She also attempts to memorize faces, at least as much as any helmets may allow. It also occurs to her that if the minders reacted to the gith biting himself, they're probably actively watching the place, maybe by magical means.
Fantastic. The sods won't be able to keep one of these barmies from putting a shiv between my ribs while I'm asleep, but watching the lunatics is probably a lot of fun for them.
The half-scro/tiefling is strongly tempted to make a rude remark (and looks it, too), and somewhat tempted to say something to the more idealistic-seeming one, this Slyff. Instinct, however, says to keep quiet. This Goris basher can find someone else to bully. Right, now just leave us alone, you pikers. That portal is sounding better and better.
The githzerai merely licks the blood from his lips and mutters a few choice remarks in his native tongue under his breath, humiliated that his attempt failed miserably and managed to likely convince everyone in the room he was barmier than a Xaositect. Not to mention the possibility of the bite wound scarring! He makes an attempt to move but drops to his knees and winces. Had he really lost that much blood?!
"Embarrassing."
He lowers his eyes in shame, not daring to meet Umbrukh-Uma's gaze, or Indigo's, for that matter. When the guards begin to antagonize the…..dragon…..he clears his throat audibly, though his heart sinks, knowing he has probably destroyed all chances he ever had to finally leave the Gatehouse for good.
"It was a act made in a moment of desperation. I was the addle-cove here. Indigo should not be punished for my stupidity. I should be reprimanded, not he."
"See? Bluster and contrition. Two reactions common enough to productive members of society. The k- ... reptile's aggressive tendencies we may be able to suppress, in time. For now our job is to monitor, Keeper Goris. In this program most behavioral admonishment and reward is up to the society members, not us."
The tall human, Goris, grinds his teeth a little, but gives no order for the armored guards to remove anyone. They stay in a ready stance around the door, though, until a healer arrives to look at the githzerai's arm.
Indigo turns away from everyone else and retreats to the commode, lightning still dancing from his forearms. There is the sound of a splash, and a bright flash. If anyone checks on him (there's no curtain, so you'd just need to go to the archway) they find him passed out under the water-basin.)
[DM- There are half a dozen armored guards. They wear full plate armor and are armed with clubs. Four of them carry tower shields, and the other two have nets. Their armor and full helms make race identification only general. By their armor, and small badges and embellishments, they appear to be Sons Of Mercy recruits, serving a requisite training assignment in the barmy bin. Here they learn to use non-lethal force. Every now and then you draw a newbie who's "still learning"]
[The PCs might note: Only the armored guards actually enter the room, and Slyff stays down the hall far enough that the PCs can't even see her, though Uma may guess by her voice that she is an elf (eladrin, actually)]
The healer is a thin halfling priest. He looks barely older than an altar-boy, but that may be because he's a halfling. He is genuinely attentive to Na'Sahlih's wound, but seems on-edge. He nervously blurts out that he's been here less than a week, and professes new-found experience with bite wounds. If anyone thinks to ask his name, he answers "Phil" while trying to not make eye contact with the speaker. Once he is done treating Na'Sahlih's arm, he fetches a bucket and mops up the blood.
Na'Sahlih gives the halfling a wide grin, revealing sharp upper and lower canines.
"Thank you, Phil. You're handling things well for a newcomer. I'm sure you will excell quickly in time."
When the halfling attends to the mess, the cleric's expression slips into the famed neutral mask of his kindred as he peers around at the guards, though it is only a half-gearted attempt to garner information. What would be the use of it when he had already lost face?
(OOC: Wondering if I should roll a Spot check O_o)
"Um ... I was told I shouldn't talk too much to you people, sorry." is Phil's most common response, no matter how nice or reasonable the speaker. Strangely, this also includes the guards who try to talk to him. After he is done cleaning up all the blood (and he does such a thorough job, one might wonder if he is obsessive), Phil scurries out with a polite-but-nervous bow.
The guards continue their vigil by the door, as they are told it is near meal-time anyway. The fact that this dorm is getting serviced first elicits a quiet argument between Slyff and Goris, but she convinces him that getting it over quickly is for the best. A large upright cart with trays soon arrives, pushed by an ogre with a lobotomy scar. Usually, the guards would just open the bottom port on the door and slide the trays in [this door design is common throughout the Gatehouse], leaving it open, along with the eye-port, until the meals are done and the tray returned. The only difference this time is that the ogre is allowed to enter and place the trays on the table. The ogre proves to be quite 'talkative' once its job is done, but it seems to know only sign language, wide sweeps of his massive limbs threatening to injure all of the room's occupants and destroy the furniture. He cocks his head if anyone tries to address him verbally. Evidently, he is deaf, and cannot read lips. He shrugs and exits, back to his job pushing the food cart. The potato soup is scalding hot, as are the potato pancakes. There is a little bowl of steamed greens. On Indigo's tray there is a pile of meat chunks in a thin broth in the bowl instead of vegetables, but he remains passed out under the sink, and his food will go back uneaten unless someone else decides to have it.
[DM - Na'Sahlih (and only he, since nobody else said 'spot check') notices that before the ogre exits, he looks longingly, not at the door but at the archway into the water-closet. The seasoned githzerai has seen that look before; someone who knows about a portal but doesn't know the key.]
Blazing malachite eyes stare at the scene and when the food is brought in, her mouth opens slowly and her tongue can be seen flickering in and out as if tasting the air, she then stands up and in one smooth move gets herself to the table with her plate..
she eyes the food of the unconscious Indigo, but does not yet move anywhere near it..
Then dives into her food with abandon, her fangs sometimes flash a little when she needs to bite into something, but most of the time she gulps the food down in one.. as a snake would...
When she finishes her plate, she moves to Indigo... looks at him, then moves to the toilet area and scoops up some water with her plate... moves back to Indigo, and splashes it into his face, whilst standing a pace back from him, not wanting to get sparked if the water conducts any electricity that's residual on him...
She then moves to pick up the plate and begins feeding him by hand...
Perhaps surprisingly, Umbrukh-Uma picks up one of the bowls of food and offers it to the weakened githzerai. Scro are patriarchal, if a bit less nastily so than their savage orcish cousins; perhaps at least a few of their social customs have rubbed off. As for herself, the half-scro is divided between feeling famished and feeling disgusted at the not-very-carnivore nature of what's been provided. She had been looking at the meat on Indigo's tray, but the snake-woman had gotten to it first.
In fact, she looks at their keepers with some disgust, even indignation. "You call this real food? This is..." She holds a steamed vegetable between her thumb and index finger as if it were utterly inedible trash. "This is elf slop! Scro need meat. The githzerai is hurt. He needs real food, not this garbage."
[I imagine that scro (or orcs) can probably digest potatoes, or even vegetables, if they have to, but I'm pretty sure their diet leans heavily toward the carnivorous under normal circumstances. I wouldn't be surprised if scro culture heavily emphasizes meat-eating, either.]
Despite not being overly fond of the food served in the Gatehouse, Na'Sahlih is nevertheless touched by the half-scro's kind gesture and accepts the bowl, filing the archway in his memory to discuss with the others once the guards leave.
"You have my thanks." he nods, starting to eat the vegetables at a slow pace, though his body is screaming at him to devour the whole meal in one swallow.
The feral, predatory gleam in his eyes returns as he glances at each of the guards, seriously entertaining the thought of killing one for food to sustain his fellow inmates. Horrified, the githzerai cleric averts his gaze and decides to distract himself by looking at Umbrukh-Uma out of sheer desperation to prevent himself from attempting to tackle the nearest guard and tear out his throat with his teeth.
"Have you been here before, Umbrukh-Uma?" Na'Sahlih inquires out of genuine interest.
(OOC: Today's lesson on the best way to avert cannibalism: look at a person you find attractive! 
Yes, he is that odd.)
The snake-skinned young-woman seems not to be looking at the food she is giving the Kobold-Dragon, as she seems "a little" disturbed by some of its contents... slightly shaking with her hands but keeping a cool face, and what humans would describe as biting her lip...
Indigo opens his eyes and practically jumps backwards from the snake-woman. Once he realizes what she was trying to do he shakes his head. "Not hungry. The tiefer-scro says she wants meat, give it to her." Igo doesn't know if she understands him or not, so he just sighs and washes up. He is still quite twitchy, practically shivering, and he stares at the water a while, claws gripping the sink/basin. "Just ... just leave me alone ... "
Ever so slightly changing her body stance, she seems relieved, and proceeds to reach out with the plate to the Scro.. and does not look at the Scro, not when she takes the plate offered, nor when she actually eats the food on it.
"No worries, little dragon-boy, she nods that she understands..."
A snake-person who doesn't like meat?
"Thanks." Umbrukh-Uma makes very short work of several pieces of Indigo's intended dinner, apparently without much finicky concern for what it may taste like, or what it may have come from. One might wonder whether being dragged into the Gatehouse had resulted in her missing breakfast. She offers to share the bowl of meat and broth with the githzerai; the half-scro might not be thrilled at his first attempt to create a gate-key, but apparently the fact that he's hurt makes her a bit more sympathetic toward him.
"No. The berks have threatened me with it before." The half-scro's voice becomes more intense, as does her expression.
"Some treat dream-warnings like... an amusement. Some laugh one antepeak and get hipped into the Abyss or get poisoned by their own wives the next. Cutters who want to know the future -- they want jink, and lovers, and many sons, and the defeat of their enemies. They don't want to hear about their daughters getting sick, or their sons getting bobbed by knights of the post. For sure they don't want to hear about their fellows becoming puppets of the fiends."
[I've been waiting for someone to ask Uma about herself...]
“Among my people, there are those who have visions, or dream-warnings, as you call them. I knew several of these ‘seers’ on a personal level and even have a few within my own family. I find it is better by far to know the truth than remain an ignorant fool. Sadly, most would prefer lies. You have been bestowed with a tremendous gift – and it is indeed a gift, despite what others may tell you – therefore, it is your responsibility to use that gift to aid others.
Yes, the zealots might throw you in this damned hole countless times…..but hold your head high, Umbrukh-Uma, for you will not break under their hollow words and vile insults. I would even dare to say your tenacity is on par with my race, though if I were to state this opinion in front of another githzerai, I would most likely be preoccupied with picking my teeth off the floor instead of enjoying the somewhat agreeable meat-slices .” Na’Sahlih grins serenely as he eats one of the aforementioned pieces of meat, mindful to leave plenty for Umbrukh-Uma.
He leans dangerously close to the half-scro and lowers his voice.
“I think I’ve found a possible location for the exit-portal. It’s the archway of the water-closet.”
Hesitantly, he puts a consoling hand on her shoulder, placing the half-full plate of meat beside her and dares to approach the mysterious snake-woman, offering a polite bow of his head and keeping his gaze to the ground should she deem him a threat.
“Prisoner of many turnings, may I have a word with you?”
Ach’ali-Drowning, berk! Na'Sahlih chides himself mentally.
"Er, yes......I believe I may know the location of the exit-portal, though the key still eludes me."
The green female just sits down and silently watches the group.. she seems thoughtful and off the world in some way..
When the Gith-child approaches her, she jerks a bit in sudden neck-motions, but does not seem offensive, but her eyes blaze as if looking through him, not AT him...
Na'Sahlih flinches visibly under the snake-woman's peircing stare, though he manages to retain his composure.
As I have stated, it has come to pass that I know of a possible exit.....the archway of the water-closet."
He looks at the floor in a manner reminiscent of a shy, though flustered, little boy.
"I......we......we must try escaping. This place is abhorrent to me! I have lingered here for a decade while you, if what everyone says is to be believed, have been a prisoner for a century! My will fades as does my hope.....I cannot bear another wasted turning in these walls. We must try! Umbrukh-Uma, Shist and Indigo are faring little better and I fear for their well-being more than my own!"
The githzerai's hands are trembling in distress as he speaks, displaying far more emotion than is common for one of his race.
"your care for the well-being of the others be admirable, son, and your knowledge of the portal be good to...and useful, but will a key be produced or not?" she weaves and bobs her head while she says this and proceeds to continue staring right through Na'Sahlih...
"Sometimes a portal key has something to do with the plane it goes to. Shist, do your snakes tell you anything about where the portal goes?" The half-scro hopes that the medusa is, in fact, wrong, and that Umbrukh-Uma will not be dreaming about this. Dreams about portals to unknown planes are bad. A lot of them involve fire. Even those that don't involve fire are pretty bad.
So. What kind of key would lead from the Gatehouse to...wherever? It's probably not sanity (the guards are sane, right?) but the half-scro tries it, just to make sure. Uma walks up to the 'portal' and thinks hard about Indigo Evening Flashes suddenly deciding he's not actually a dragon, or not being so barmy-hot tempered. Or Shist not wanting to cut her eyes out, or her snakes off. She's not sure about the githzerai or the snake-woman yet, so she imagines them both as boringly sane.
She doesn't think about herself any differently, though. Her dreams are truth.
If that doesn't work, the half-scro thinks equally hard about 'freedom.' Dukagsh knows, it's not hard to contemplate freedom in a place like this. She imagines shackles breaking, chains being cut in two, masses of slaves rising against their masters, and so on.
If neither of these work, she announces "I was thinking that either sanity or freedom might be the key. No luck, though."
Uma also looks around their meager surroundings for any objects that might be worth trying as portal keys.
"Actually... maybe what the not-kobold said earlier is right. Since the portal is in what Lady's Ward sods call the water closet, maybe it goes to the Plane of Ooze, or to the 622nd layer of the Abyss, the 'Layer of Flaming Raw Sewage,' or somewhere else nasty like that." Umbrukh-Uma moves well away from the portal area and leans against a wall again. "One of you other cutters can try out that portal key, though. And if the portal goes somewhere like that... I'm staying."
She doesn't think about herself any differently, though. Her dreams are truth.
"I was thinking that either sanity or freedom might be the key. No luck, though."
Uma also looks around their meager surroundings for any objects that might be worth trying as portal keys.
"Actually... maybe what the not-kobold said earlier is right. Since the portal is in what Lady's Ward sods call the water closet, maybe it goes to the Plane of Ooze, or to the 622nd layer of the Abyss, the 'Layer of Flaming Raw Sewage,' or somewhere else nasty like that. One of you other cutters can try out that portal key, though. And if the portal goes somewhere like that... I'm staying."
Before Uma can get away from the portal, it suddenly sputters to life!
[DM : decided that this is close enough. The portal key is in Uma's actions or feelings during this last exchange.]
[DM : decided that this is close enough. The portal key is in Uma's actions or feelings during this last exchange.]
"What the -- ? Dukagsh be praised!" The half-scro seriously considers leaping through the portal at once, but decides to peer closely into it -- hoping for a good look at the portal's destination -- before risking ending up on the Plane of Graz'zt's Sewer System.
She moves aside just enough so that anyone who wants to enter the portal first can do so.
"I bet it's 'disgust,'" she mutters to herself.
[Would you like a Spot check, or...?]
Na'Sahlih looks as though he could kiss Umbrukh-Uma and mercifully restrains himself to giving her an elegant bow of aknowledgement. With an experienced glance at the portal, he hesitantly steps forward. A shiver tingles down his spine as he remembers the last time he went through a strange portal. The githzerai landed in the middle of a strange land with desert as far as the horizon, with a merciless sun and sand-worn ruins. He winces, recalling his hasty escape from an odd group of halflings who kept eyeing him like choice veal and the weeks spent struggling to survive in the unforgiving environment. Mercifully, the cleric had found a portal location leading to Sigil, though only after a series of rather embarrassing negotiations with an 'exotic' trader. She was.....most co-operative in the end.
...
[DM : decided that this is close enough. The portal key is in Uma's actions or feelings during this last exchange.]
"What the -- ? Dukagsh be praised!" The half-scro seriously considers leaping through the portal at once, but decides to peer closely into it -- hoping for a good look at the portal's destination -- before risking ending up on the Plane of Graz'zt's Sewer System.
As soon as the optimism of the opening portal swells in Uma's heart, the shimmering on the arch begins to falter. Uma catches a whiff of breeze, but does not see anything through the portal before it closes. Na'Saleh's smile as he closes his eyes and steps through the archway may be serene, but his presence puts the portal out completely.
...
The big half-scro sniffs at the breeze several times, trying to catch a whiff of -- Plane of Ooze? Unwashed tanar'ri? Crackling flames?
Umbrukh-Uma scowls, thinking. She cracks her knuckles a few times, looking at the portal.
She repeats the feeling of 'disgust' as closely as she can, imagining the tanar'ric version of a sewer system, diving into the Plane of Ooze, and other similarly disgusting destination planes. Then the half-scro thinks about the worst possible destination planes ever. The Elemental Plane of Fire. Or those layers of Baator that burn very very hot.
Unfortunately, it does not seem 'disgust' is the key. The archway remains dead stone.
Indeed it is the smell of stone on the breeze Uma detects from the portal before it closes. Wet stone, like cobblestones after a rain, or a cave.
Na'Sahlih hisses abrasive curses under his breath.
"Sod it! Piking hells, I was thinking about the last time I went through a portal I hadn't heard of before and the piking thing's sputtered out. Damn fool! I'm a piking planewalker and here I've gone and made a Clueless' error!" He growls as he clutches at his long, black hair, his normally formal manner of speech decaying rapidly into the rougher one he aquired in Sigil.
"It was a desert-prime......with halflings that nearly ate me......slave-traders, gladiators, inscect-creatures and I thought I saw a few gith at one time.......the world was dying, I think. Maybe that was what closed the portal. My mind was too focused on a foolish mistake I made long ago."
The cleric starts snarling to himself in the githzerai dialect. He knows better than to approach Umbrukh-Uma or any of the other inmates, lest they decide to kill him there and then for his momentary lapse of reason. Finally, he calms himself enough to retreat to a corner and meditate, focusing on clearing his mind of anything which might possibly distract the efforts of Umbrukh-Uma further.
And where would a portal from a barmy-house go to? Pandemonium! That's it!
Of course, there are lots of other planes that have caves in them, even the Prime -- the Underdark for one. It's probably Pandemonium, though.
The half-scro thinks about what might have gotten the portal to try to open before. Not disgust...
She had really not wanted to go through a portal leading to a sewer-plane, or some other nasty part of the Abyss.
Umbrukh-Uma decides to think a lot about why taking a portal to Pandemonium would be a really, really bad idea. That 'going insane' thing, for one. (She, Umbrukh-Uma, of course, is completely sane. The rest of these sods are barmy, though. That one who thinks he's a sodding dragon...) The idea of utterly losing her mind and wandering the caverns of Pandemonium forever... maybe the Gatehouse is actually a better idea.
There are Powers on Pandemonium too. Not very nice ones mostly. Wouldn't want to wander into the god-lair of one of them. Thinking about nasty Powers, plus reasons to not go through the portal, causes another thought to occur to her. Yeah, what if mum's soul is wandering around somewhere on that Plane?
Probably not. Probably. That's more 'out and out evil' than 'completely barmy,' right? I mean, she's probably commanding at least a squad or two in the Abyss by now. Or some other Lower Plane. Even so, Umbrukh-Uma is not sure enough to feel eager to go through that portal.
"New blindfold, Shist? Nice new treads too, heh heh heh."
"Welcome back, Indigo. You weren't gone long this time." The medusa is in a secure straight jacket, and also wears a turban in addition to the silk blindfold.
"Yea, some berk tried to nick me, and I blasted her. The Sons responded, and wouldn't you know it'd be Brightwing, again. So they sent me back here. Oh well, it beats a Hive gutter, I guess."
"This place has changed a bit. Looks like just you and I. How are they going to run a 'reintroduction to civil society' dorm with two occupants? And they call us barmy."
"We won't be alone for long ... "
"You know I hate it when you say stuff like that"