Sigil: City of Doors

*This may get a bit graphic*

A large dark shadow silently flits across the ground of a town at night. It is clear from the night sky that this is a prime world. Coming to a dead end alleyway, the shadow stops and taps at the wall, waiting. After a few moments, the shadow taps the wall again, this time more impatiently. Hearing no response, the shadow feels the wall a moment, wraps its' hands in a cloth rag, and punches one of the bricks with all of its' might. A few bricks get knocked loose, apparently being part of a secret door, and the figure peers through the hole, eyes burning with a black flame.

Nothin'. *sniffs* Tha' ain' normal. . .

The words were barely more than a whisper, from a rough sounding woman. The woman then would appear to melt to any observant enough to spot her, sliding through the gap in the wall before reforming in the darkest corner. On her guard, she slowly looks around, checking for traps, signs of battle, or signs of life. The first room is quiet and empty, nothing aside from the stillness being unusual. The woman stalks down the hall and looks at the wooden door at the end of it. At first glance it appears normal, but before she grasps the doorknob, she notes a small sharpened protrusion on it.

Damn. . . almos' touched tha'. . .

She peers closer at the spike, noting it is coated in a sickly looking substance. Not very much, but knowing the methods of those who likely broke in here, it could possibly be fatal. Ishana, thinking to herself now that she has evidence someone may be here, suspects that whoever did this expected someone to investigate.

Carefully, she takes the bloodied cloth rag and wipes the handle off, taking the spike in the process without piercing through the rag. She wraps it up and puts it in a small bag at her side. She wanted to minimize the signs of her passage, but still leave some as a taunting gesture. As a precaution, she carefully looks over the door again, and finding nothing opens the door.

The grisly scene she witnessed gave even the huge warrior woman pause. Corpses were left impaled all around the room, horrified looks frozen on their rotting faces. Some of the men had been strangled with their own intestines, dark magic seemingly keeping them alive just long enough to die from the suffocation. The women were treated far worse. Stripped naked, it was obvious to the woman what happened. She swallowed a lump in her throat, recognizing all but a few faces. Young blood, she thought to herself simply. Whoever caused this left no evidence of their being here apart from the carnage. The woman looked at all their faces further, apparently looking for a specific person, but not finding them. She sighs, half relieved that the one in particular was there, but half terrified at what that persons fate might be.

A moment later, one of the floorboards creaks slightly, a year ago she may not have heard it. She once again fades into the shadows, moving towards the sound in a round-about way. The new intruder was a man, clad in an expensive suit of leather, blackened metal knives in hand. The man laughs, and then speaks.

I know you are here girl. Show yourself and I will g-

The man chokes all of a sudden, which is natural when a near two hundred pound beast of a woman grabs you by the throat. Her face is a seething visage of pure hatred and rage, her hand easily lifting the fairly small in comparison man high off the ground. The man in desperation attempts to stab the offending arm to get free, but even with the successful stab, the most he gets out of the woman is a grunt of pain and a fist to the face. Dazed and losing oxygen rapidly, the man drops the weapons to the floor. The woman loosens her grip ever so slightly, allowing him to get a few gasps of air before squeezing again. At this point, she no longer cares who or what hears her, and roars at the man.

What did ye do ta the others!

The woman once again loosens her grip slightly, allowing the man to get more air, and to speak.

(The man): Wh-what others?
(Ishana): Ye damn well know who! Tha wuns tha' lead tha damn group ye friggin' useless dogs kilt!
(Man): I don't know who you are talking about, I swear, I was forced into this to protect my f-

The woman tightens her grip harder than she did before, roaring once more at the man, louder this time

(Ishana): YER LYIN', YE SACK O' SHIT!

Ishana swings the arm holding the man hard, throwing him across the room and at a wall. Stunned by the impact, the man tries to get a breath of fresh air, panicking as he notices the madwoman stomping towards him with a look of fury that would give the Tarrasque pause. She once more picks up the man by the throat and slams him into the wall hard, cracking the stonework. She speaks lowly and calmly this time, a look of simmering rage in her eyes.

(Ishana): Yer gonna regret crossin' me an' mine. I'm gonna make sure o' tha'.

With her free hand, she grabs one of the mans hands in her fist, crushing it effortlessly. The man attempts to scream in pain, but before a sound can escape his throat, she tightens her grip on his throat again. Ishana pulls the man from the wall, bringing his eyes level with hers. Using the thumb of her left hand, she gouges the mans eye, removing it from its' socket and then crushing it. She speaks once more, barely more than a whisper, but she knows he can hear it.

(Ishana): Yer gittin' off easy. I know ye din't kill me boys, but ye see, I'm needin' a message. . .

With those final words, she grabs his neck with both hands, twisting hard and with a sickening crack, separates his head from his body. The broken corpse drops to the ground in a heap, and the woman leaves the place behind, taking the head with her. Whoever did this WILL pay dearly, particularly if those she seeks are not intact. Almost as an afterthought, Ishana tosses a firebomb behind her back. If the head does not serve as a good enough method, her signature assuredly will. . .

Ishana sits quietly in a dark corner of the Barrel and Jug, her usual assortment of weaponry not on her person, and wearing clothes that give no doubt that she carries nothing. She slowly sips on a tankard of ale, watching the usual patrons of the bar silently, scowling at any who even so much as look at her. After a few hours, a slightly out of place elf walks into the bar, pays for a bottle quietly, and then leaves. Ishana waits, counting to twenty in her head, and then stands and walks out of the bar, making her way uneventfully to the Undersigil Village, climbs to the roof of a particular building where the elf stood waiting. He leads her to a bricked up chimney, removes a few of the bricks and mutters a word under his breath, causing a portal to open up.

Elf: You have five days, do not be late or you will have to find your own way back.

Ishana: I'll be back in less'en three.

Without a further word, she jumps into the portal, ending up on the other side in a dark room. Ishana dusts herself off from the ashes, and looks around, spotting a boarded up window with which she peers out of. Spotting nothing, and noting that it is just past midnight out, she pries the boards loose and opens the window, squeezing herself through to end up on the ground level of the streets. She once more looks around before walking down the familiar city streets of her old home. After a short time walking, she ends up at an inn, seemingly the last one with vacancies in the area. She strides up to the bar, drops a few coins of the local currency, and pays for three drinks. Moments later, two men, one lanky and the other a more average build walk up to the bar, sitting on either side of her. All three silently finish their drinks, and then simultaneously stand up and walk out of the inn.

Lanky: Yer late.
Plain: The boss won't be happy.
Ishana: Shuddap an' jus' take me to'im like ye sed ye would.

All three continue on, 'Plain' in front, Ishana in the middle, and 'Lanky' taking up the rear, non-subtly taking in the view.

Lanky: Gud tha' ye ain' armed. We'd 'aff ta leeve ye ahind.

Ishana speaks no further to them, despite several attempts from the other two in trying to draw her into conversation. Regardless, it wasn't long until they snaked through a few alleyways and ended up at a stone wall, scratching along the walls and ground indicating a hidden door. 'Plain' walks up to the door first, tapping the door with a dagger lightly. After a moment, the wall slides away, a rather large number of armed and armored men and women awaiting, weapons at the ready. Ishana glares at them, causing a few to shift uncomfortably, but none otherwise move until the three begin down the long, twisting passageways. They pass many doors, all of them closed and windowless, giving no hint as to what lies behind them. After what seems to be hours, they arrive at a set of double doors, and come to a stop. The two men leading her along walk up to the doors and both whisper to a guard. They then nod and open the doors, revealing a grand hall, gilded with gold, luxurious paintings hang from the walls, and plush carpets lay across the tiled floor. The hall is lit by a large number of torches on the walls, giving an almost eerie quality to the hall. At the end of the hall, on a dais sits a throne, a withered old man with sharp eyes sits, staring at Ishana as she and the guards walk up to the throne. . .

When the three come to a stop in front of the dais, the two men taking a knee in respect, the old man stares long and hard at Ishana before speaking

Old man: You are a hard woman to find. Nonetheless, I know why you are here, what exactly do you have to offer?

Ishana: I want ta know tha' 'e ain' ded afore I do business wit' ye.

The old man laughs a long time, then makes a pointing gesture at Ishana

Old man: Why do we not dispense with this charade? You have nothing to give, I have no reason to release my prisoner. Guards? Just kill her and get-

Ishana then seems to melt into the ground, disappearing into the shadows before the man finishes his sentence.

Old man: Find her, and secure the prisoner, do NOT let her near him!

All of the men in the grand hall scramble to find her. After another moment, a shadowy apparition of Ishana appears, causing a large amount of chaos and allowing her to slip out of the hall, in pursuit of the men barreling down the corridors, quickly opening doors in their haste to reach the prisoner. After a short time, they arrive at a cell block, nearly every cell containing someone, and most of them appearing not long for life. The men catch their breaths as many of the prisoners stare out at them. After a few gestures, one of them walks off, heading for a specific cell. The men further split up, attempting to make sure that any angle is covered.

Ishana then decides the moment of subtlety is over, and melds out of the shadows next to one of the men, punching the back of his head hard enough to crack his skull, dropping him dead instantly. Ishana hides again in the shadows, moving towards a cell that is currently being unlocked, the gaoler menacingly walking in with blade in hand.

Ishana: Shit. . .

Ishana sprints as fast as her legs can carry her, alerting the guards to her presence as they charge at her, weapons bared. Just before the man plunges his blade into the prisoners neck, Ishana reaches him, putting both of her hands on his head and twisting with all her might, snapping his neck with a sickening crack. Seeing this frightening display of might gives the pursuers just enough pause for her to throw the dagger, striking one solidly in the gut.

Ishana hardly looks at the prisoner, a very nearly skeletal man, clearly badly bruised, beaten, and quite often starved. Out of one of the few small pouches on her person she pulls two small clay spheres, throwing one at the mass of men who had not yet worked up the courage to attack. The orb shatters, exploding in a miniature fireball and killing most of them instantly. Those lucky enough to survive turn tail and run, none of them thinking their pay is worth dealing with the frightening beast of a woman.

She then picks up the prisoner, his appearance is far different than how she remembers him, but intuition and his reaction prove without a doubt that he is the one she came for. She places another sphere at the wall of the cell, moves out of the cell and throws a loosened stone at it. The bomb explodes with enough force to very nearly knock her off her feet, but when the dust clears the night sky is clearly visible through cracks in the wall, many of them large enough for her fist to fit through. Ishana gently places the man down, and braces herself. She knew this was going to hurt, but it was the only way out now. After taking one more deep breath she throws a punch at the broken stone wall, cracking it further, but causing the skin over her knuckles to peel away. She winces and throws another few punches, snapping sounds from both the stone and her hands sound, but the wall then gives way. Just as Ishana picks up the prisoner to make her escape a man with a crossbow appears outside the cell, shouting at her to not move. Ishana ignores the command and starts to run, angling herself slightly to the side as the guard fires. Reflexively, her free arm guided by the magic of her vestments, she swings her hand in the path of the bolt, deflecting it, but tearing another long wound into her hand.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, a few city guardsmen approach to investigate the noise. They arrive in time to witness a woman picking up a malnourished man and running away, as well as the firing of the crossbow.

City Guard: HALT!

Ishana: Out o' me way!

Ishana simply barrels through, one of the guards chases after her while the others investigate the scene, barking orders at those on the other side of the wall. She continues running down the streets, eventually losing her pursuers through a few alleyways. Relieved, she finds her way back to the house she came in from, carefully fitting her charge through inside and once more setting him down. She sticks her head through the chimney, half of her ending up in Sigil while the other half stays on the prime. The elf momentarily has a surprised look on his face, not expecting anything for another two days, but quickly suppresses it and ties a rope to his waist, and the other to a solid place on the roof. Ishana ducks back out of the portal and picks up her old friend once more, carefully passing him through the portal into the arms of the elf on the other side. Ishana then follows, the elf no longer anywhere to be found. Ishana just shakes her head and picks the man up, making her way to the Foul Olde Spirit for some much needed rest.