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[abhorrently]

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[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."

[blindwatchersees]

"Do they speak to you, too? Does a heart have a voice like a deep drum? Does a stomach growl in discontent any more when you rip it out of someone?"

[abhorrently]

"They don't speak, not necessarily, but...they hold memories. The eyes retain the last image burned on them, so say certain necromancers. The flesh recalls what struck it down, and the body holds other important memories. Things that you would fight with every fiber to recall. Provided there's enough of your mind to remember."

She has to add on that last part, recalling her own mangled mind.

"And they remind me."

[blindwatchersees]

He nods, not questioning a bit of it.

"The Gatekeeper won't just leave the bones of those it fells. You can have the hearts and the stomachs and the entrails." He says this with the same inflection of someone explaining that a tavern serves both chicken and beef.

[abhorrently]

"And what if I said I could get you the bones of the Gatekeeper? Potentially. Not a promise."

Because she has to pass through those Gates. There's no question about it.

[blindwatchersees]

"Aha! So you hear it, too. Yes, there's something calling us, something telling us to pass through those gates. But the Gatekeeper won't be easily slain. He has powerful magic, and his wounds close themselves quickly. But I know a secret. The Gatekeeper is weak to the bones of his brothers!"

[abhorrently]

"Is he now. So all one needs is the right opportunity and the right bones to take him out?"

That's promising. That, she can work with. Disable the man, then take his head.

[blindwatchersees]

"I know there's another Gatekeeper in the Garden of Flesh and Blood. It's guarded by skeletal monsters. My arrows don't do much against creatures who have already taken off their skin. Perhaps you know more about breaking bones than I do."

[abhorrently]

"I may know a thing or two, particularly if those monsters can still feel pain. But I've no idea how I'm supposed to get to the Garden."

This is when she can turn big pleading eyes on in a blatant request for help.