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[abhorrently]

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[abhorrently]

"Who are you, and where are we?"

Because this man she doesn't trust as far as she can throw him. Particularly when she's been in the mire of her own head.

[blindwatchersees]

"I am Haskill, Chamberlain to the Lord Sheogorath. This space is for the interview of candidates to enter the Shivering Isles."

[abhorrently]

The mention of Sheogorath's name doesn't alleiviate all her worries, but it's a point in this man's favor. Actually, most of that is familiar. Hm.

"...Okay. So, what do you need to know?"

Go with it for now.

[blindwatchersees]

"Firstly, I will need to record your name and your reason for approaching my Lord's realm."

[abhorrently]

"Fever. I don't have a reason to be approaching, I fell through my floor and ended up here by coincidence."

If that's a reason he heard before.

[blindwatchersees]

"Fascinating," he replies in a blasé tone, as if she had just commented about a cloud being shaped like a cloud. After he copies something down in the book in front of him, he looks back at her, and says,

"Through the door behind me lies the realm of Sheogorath, Prince of Madness, Lord of the Never-There. You are free to return from where you came, and your life will be none the worse from your time spent here. Or, you may continue onward, through the door. Understand that this is an invitation, and not a summoning; whatever you choose to do is your own decision."

[abhorrently]

"Do I only get the one chance? Is it possible to walk away and then return?"

It matters to her decision. She already wants to go, but she needs to be sure.

[blindwatchersees]

"My Lord will likely be looking for a champion for quite some time. Should you wish to return, I'm certain the position will still be open."

[abhorrently]

"I need a little time to think. I'll be back."

But the thing is, Fever leaves, but she does not leave. There is one branch where she does. Where she opens her eyes and forgets all of what occurred, lying on the floor, and carries on with her day. And then in her dreams, instead of the expected surges of violence, of battling with herself, there is a strange door - it shines so blue.

And there is a branch where she does not leave at all. Picking up from the paused heartbeat, time ticks on again. And she has her hands folded on her lap, looking at Haskill.

"I choose to continue onward."

[blindwatchersees]

"Fine. I'm sure my Lord will be most pleased, assuming you ever manage to see Him. You'll want to pass through the Gates of Madness. Oh, and mind the Gatekeeper. He dislikes strangers to the Realm. Enjoy your stay." Before Fever can say anything else, he vanishes into black smoke and disappears.

It quickly becomes apparent that actually passing through the door on the other side of the room isn't necessary, as the room itself melts into a cloud of butterflies that scatter to the gold-dusted heavens, leaving the half-elf standing alone on a hillside, next to the abandoned desk, with massive mushroom-trees towering over her.

[abhorrently]

It's beautiful, actually. She stands there for a moment, reorienting herself but also just gazing at the surroundings, taking them in.

The Shivering Isles, huh? The sentiment that rises in her most strongly is relief. No matter what this is, there's plant life, there's things that aren't the ship, there's solid ground under her feet. And it's different, and that calls to her on its own. So she steps forward, and keeps going, trusting her path to lead her...somewhere. No plans for anywhere in particular. She'll figure it out. In the meanwhile, no harm to explore.

[blindwatchersees]

The road leads her down the hill, past massive roots and thick patches of marsh grass, through some muddy, low-lying areas. There's some sort of frog-man foraging nearby, a rough stone cudgel holstered at its side. Its bulbous eyes stare in different directions as a sort of grumbling croak escapes it.

[abhorrently]

There's no one else around, so the path forward is clear.

"Hello! Do you have a moment?"

[blindwatchersees]

The creature jumps, then draws its weapon, then charges at her, shrieking and croaking in an unknown tongue.

[abhorrently]

Shame. The creature could have lived so much longer.

But she appreciates that here, she can use any spell she likes, even if it's driving Scorching Ray directly into the being's eyes. Death will come swiftly, without her needing to worry about other people around.

[blindwatchersees]

It lets off a strangely delicious smell as it sizzles and collapses into the muck.

[abhorrently]

There is a strong part of her that wants to eat it. A very strong part. But she will resist, because the last thing she needs to be is poisoned.

Instead, she'll keep going. Onward, through paths, past strange plants and strange skies. The Gates of Madness - either they'll be obvious, or they won't, but a lone sorcerer needs to stay vigilant, needs to be Aware. In the land of madness, one has to be ready to respond to things in kind.

[blindwatchersees]

Soon, a small town comes into view, the buildings built on foundations that rise right out of the swamp.

The first two people she sees are a dark skinned man and a drow, both of them dressed in fancy, mutton-sleeved doublets of different colors. They're having a lively conversation.

"I tried to warn them," the man complains, looking irritated.

"Maybe they're just confused," the drow replies, sounding sympathetic but not overly concerned.

"They should have listened to me! How can I stop them from being killed if they don't listen to me?"

"We'll be swimming in blood soon. Yuck."

[abhorrently]

The last time she tried to start a conversation, she got attacked, so this time, she's going to play it safe and just listen. Who's being killed, and why?

There's something she knows how to do - even when ready for a fight at any time, and it's how to simply blend in. How to walk in a way where people notice her less, hold herself in a way that makes her part of the scenery. It's not invisibility, it's just falling less under notice to keep people comfortable. So, it'll give her a way to eavesdrop.

[blindwatchersees]

They discuss something called 'the Gatekeeper' briefly before they turn and start heading up the steps of a nearby hill.

The town square, if it can be called that, still isn't empty. A large, sturdily-built man is cutting apart another one of those frog-things with quiet focus.

[abhorrently]

If he's no friend to the frog thing, then he may be on her side. It still feels strange to be doing such things not in a group - to not have everyone simply take turns talking to others, and just her asking all these questions. But it is how it is.

"Excuse me." Don't want to startle him, after all. "Do you know where the Gates of Madness are?"

[blindwatchersees]

"Up the hill. I'm about to head up there myself. The Gatekeeper is about to turn some adventurers into bones." He sounds very pleased about the prospect.

[abhorrently]

"Mind if I join you? It sounds like something I ought not to miss."

And it'd be easier to puzzle some things out by talking.

[blindwatchersees]

"Go right ahead! The Gatekeeper is quite a sight to see, you know. I can only imagine what its bones must look like." He stands up from his kill, brushes himself off, and turns to head up the hill.

"By the way, the name's Jayred Ice-Veins. I like bones. I like the sounds they make. I can't hear them very well when they're still inside of things, though."

[abhorrently]

This is sensible to her, who understand all too well the itch for trophies.

"Fever, and good to meet you."

She falls into step next to him, letting him lead the way.

"I'm more partial to organs myself, but you can't really go wrong with bones. Useful, strong - if they don't get broken in combat, of course."