Sigil: City of Doors

My name once was Cal-Erin and again i call myself this. My name was also once Gluboiy Petukh, perhaps it still is, although the last time anyone called me that was centuries ago. Those who knew me back then are long gone. Either dead or far removed from me.

Why am i writing this? Who will read it? I do not really know or care. I am old now, old for an elf anyway, perhaps it is just something to occupy my time while i await the coming of death. I believe despite the wrongs i have done in my life, my spirit will ascend to Elysium and to enjoy eternal peace there.

I look out of the window, sunlight shines through and beyond i can see the trees of my adopted home. The world's name is irrelevant, but its one far removed from worlds such as my homeworld and other such as Toril.

Here the inhabitants have never heard of Sigil or the outer planes, except for cryptic references in their holy books and myths. This is to my satisfaction. Perhaps it would be nice to look upon the city at the center of the multiverse once again, but i am too old for the journey.

My daughter takes care of me these days. I barely have the strength to sit up in bed. My wife died several decades ago, dying of old age before me... i became a sucker for the older lady as i aged, and she caught my attention as soon as i arrived on this world.

But i digress, i wanted to tell the story of my time in Sigil, that place sometimes called the Cage, or the City of Doors.

But before this, some things would need to be explained about my youth and life before i lived there.

My childhood was a happy one. I spent a lot of time playing with the Fey in the forests around our home. My friend from Sigil, Drakos, would never have known me at the time, he was long gone from the Elven city when i was born, and i had already left by the time he returned for the first time, although the coincidence of this never failed to amaze me, but as they say, "its a small multiverse". Even later after we met, it was a long time before we realized we shared the same plane or origin, mainly because neither of us really shared our past with each other for the longest time... but again, i digress, the senility of old age i suspect.

My mother died when i was small, and my father took it badly. A wasting disease that no cleric or druid could heal. Something wrong with her at her core the clerics said. Yes, my father took it very badly. He was a soldier, a captain in the Queen's guard, for him life was order. I had been brought up to believe that order was everything... strange for an elf really looking back, but that was his way. He was also what some may call "a man's man" or "a real man" again, strange for an elf perhaps, but there were some things i could not share with him, my feelings about who and what i was for example. They fey in the woods of course encouraged me to share my secrets, and it was no long before i took to playing with them dressed in girl's clothing and applying creams and ointments to my face like the ladies of the queens court.

With my mother dead my father's heart hardened more and more with each passing year. He became short tempered and inquired more and more about what i was doing, where i was going, and when i was going to grow up and join the guard and be a real man. This came to an abrupt end when I was found by some scouts playing with the fey dressed in my finery. Several scouts knew about my activities, and most were happy to keep my secret, but these were from my father's regiment, and resented his strict ways and harsh regimes. They saw a way to repay him for his treatment of them.

My father, when he found out, exploded. He felt disgraced and shamed. He resigned his commission and left the city, with me in tow. He would not tell me where we were going, simply beat me day and night as we traveled. I felt as though it was deserved, i had not obeyed my father, and his wrath was justified. He burned all my dresses and threw away all my makeup before we left and we traveled light.

We took a ship to the continent, and there traveled south for many weeks. Finally we came a lone castle, although one seemingly without guards or any sort of real hustle and bustle one would normally associate with such a place. It turned out to be a monastery. An order of monks. My father left me without saying a word, there at the entrance, no money, just the clothes i was standing in, to speak alone with the monks.

They monks were kind at first, welcoming me, inviting me to stay with them, to take the vows of their order, which i did, promising to stay with them and hone my body and mind, and to obey their rules and receive their teachings.

However, shortly after taking my vows their attitude towards me changed. When i succeeded in the challenges and work set they treated me like a favoured pet. When i failed they beat me and locked me in my cell without food and water, sometimes for days at a time. They said they would make a man out of me.... but to me it was simply my punishment for failing my father.

And this brings me to my naming as it were. The monks were largely native to an area where they had their own language apart from the common tongue of humans, and the name comes from that. One day, in winter, they forced me to swim in a frozen lake naked, saying it would build up my tolerance to cold. I almost drowned and froze to death, but completed their challenge, and when i came out of the water they started calling me Blue Cockrel in their tongue, which sounds like Gluboiy Petukh, and the name stuck. From that point forwards they would only call me that. I took the name to heart as well, believing it was justified punishment.

It was that night they first raped me as well. One after another they came to my cell. The pain was terrible, but I endured it, again, i felt it was justified.

Such life continued for many years, the pain, the humiliation, the trainings, the work, until one day, a traveling bard and swordsman stopped by at the castle seeking rest and shelter. The monks provided a hostel service of a kind and were happy to take his coin, although they rejected his offer of entertainment.

It was at the evening mean he caught my eye, smiling at me from time to time when nobody else was looking, and after the meal, he followed me and cornered me in a corridor. I was fascinated with him. He was charming and witty, and the first person in a long time to treat me nicely.

The bard stayed for a couple of days more, seeking more and more time to corner me somewhere and talk with me. Finally this was noticed. I was locked in my cell, and the Bard was bid to leave with all haste or else face the wrath of the monks.

I despaired at this, and felt a great loss. That night i was beaten badly, called a whore and other unpleasant names, and raped again, several times. I cried myself to sleep for a long time.

I was awakened by the door being unlocked, and there stood the Bard. There was a monk guard outside my door, apparently sleeping off the effects of being clubbed over the head.

I'll never forget the bard's words to me "Well boy, are you coming or do you want a few more hours abed?"

Of course, i left with him, forsaking my vows in the process.

His name was Darlin, a bard of some renown, or so he claimed. I suspected rogue would be more appropriate, but he treated me nicely. He extracted from me my life story, and when i told him about my preferences to dress and act like a girl, wonder of wonders, he bought me female clothes and makeup, advised me on how to dress, and more.

When he finally came to my bed it was pleasant and without pain. I had found, my first true love. We spent a lot of time traveling, him telling stories and performing, and in our spare time he taught me methods of fighting that were new to me. How to use my brains in fights to seek out opponent's weaknesses. He used the rapier, but he adjusted his methods to my preference for Kama's without problem. He was also a competent woodsman, teaching me the way of the forest, desert, and mountains as we traveled. It was an idealistic life.

Unfortunately, to live happily ever after was not our fate. As luck would have it, when visiting one town, we bumped into my father. He recognized me of course, and took one look at me and Darlin, and drew the correct conclusions. He was outraged. He rallied against me for leaving the monastery and continuing my shameful ways. Darlin steeped in front of my, telling my father to stand down and behave, and that he would not tolerate his Gluboiy being abused so. It being a small southern town, the city guards were nowhere to be seen, and conflicts were generally settled mano-a-mano, and so it was to be, my father's rage boiling over, and attacking Darlin. Darlin was a competent swordsman, but my father a trained military man. I was frozen to the spot as Darlin defended me, and was still frozen as my father ran Darlin through with his sword. Finally, something within me broke, i unsheathed my Kamas and using all the skills i had learned shredded my unaware and unsuspecting father to pieces. I didn't stop even when he was dead, continuing for several minutes more until there was just a pool of flesh and bones.

The citizens hurried by, trying not to look. Despite being a rough town, such violence was practically unheard of. I heard the word "Demon" muttered several times.

For a few minutes i cried over the body of Darlin, shedding no tears for my father, until i noted the silence, and a slowly gathering crowd, one armed with weapons.

I fled the town, running like i had never run before... it seemed like i ran for days, quickly loosing any pursuit that may have taken place. I only stopped when i fell from exhaustion. Finally, with hunger and thirst threatening to be the end of me, a shred of reason surfaced. I used my acquired woodsman skills to find food and water, and thus i lived for several years, in the wilds of the south.

I will not go into detail here about how i arrived in Sigil, nor shall i tell about my early days there and my meeting with Drakos and the formation of the Grove. This story has been told elsewhere, i will pick up the story with the Sigil Carnival, because this was my next life changing event.

In Sigil I paraded myself as a female. Having lived alone for such a long time, i was desperate for companionship. I basically became the whore my father accused me of. I refused to acknowledge i was male. I was a female with "male equipment" ((damn word censor)) and that was all, and of course, i generally kept this secret from all except those who i desired, who would find out when we slept together... however, the picking had been scarce.

My "luck" finally changed for both better and worse when I "won" a man called Aeron in a Carnival auction.... and i will relate this story in my next entry...

Back to the carnival, i had "won" Aeron and was looking forward to a date with him and then getting my hands on him later for some real fun.

However, the date was delayed and so i decided to trim some fat with some exercise in one of the planes.

A few weeks prior to this there had been a nasty situation in the Nifelheim Wastes. I had lost my mind a little bit along with several others. The will sapping spirit of the wastes infected our souls and minds, and we were lucky to get out alive. Not of of us did get out, and needed rescuing later... but it was a disturbing experience. I believe that I saw the spirit of my father there and proceeded to at first search for him, then beg to him, and finally tried to attack him, or at least i thought it was him, in fact it was one know as Hildmor, and he had to subdue me before they could 'port me out of there.

So, already having had one mind twisting experience there, i returned, to face my fears as it were.

However, i fell to the spirits of that place in combat, lying on the edge of death, my spirit and soul seeping away into the plane itself.

And that would have been the end of my story right there, if it wasn't for the noble-hearted Aeron, who came looking for me after the Valkirye and my friend, Purity told him that i was missing.

Aeron found me and brought me back. His very presence restoring my spirit and making my heart light.

All would have been well at this point, but i pressed my attentions on him, and he, who unbeknowest to me prior to this, declared that he was already bound to another.

Maybe it was the effect of the plane, maybe it was some unknown dark corner or my soul, some lingering hatred to my father, but i lashed out, cutting him badly, and finally kicking him between the legs with all my monk trained strength.

I said many horrible things to him, and told him that all men deserved death, and that he was lucky i didn't kill him there and then. I told him i didn't ever want to see him again. I then left him to wander the Nifelheim city.

And this could have been another end to my tale. I found my will sapping away, only my hatred kept me going. I do not know how long i stay there, almost becoming a petitioner. However, sitting there, stewing in my despair and hatred, i looked through my pack, and found an old, almost forgetting tiara. I put it on, and suddenly my resolve strengthened significantly. The tiara was magical, and must be why i had kept hold of it.

I found the strength then to leave that place of sorrows and make my way back to the portal leading to Undersigil. The despair gone, but still fueled by hatred and a desire for revenge. I did not care whether people viewed me as male or female anymore. I would take who and what I wanted when i wanted, and the gods preserve anyone who got in my way, such were my thoughts.

These were dark days for me, the darkest of my life, even more so than my time at the monastery, and i will relate more about this period of my life later.

But for now I am tired. My daughter tells me i should rest.... ah yes, i mentioned a daughter before. In some ways I am still the old Gluboiy, but i found many things to love later in life, when the darkness passed.

The main thing i am happy for, is that during that time, when the darkness overcame me, I did no real harm to those i considered friends.

My mind was twisted, and I spent some time in the Abyss slaying demons and devils from the shadows. When i did venture into civilized areas my blood boiled, the desire to lash out and kill those around me almost overwhelmed me... i was close to killing an old friend of Drakos, the Sensai Teuso, although looking back, i doubt i could have bested him in a fight, he is, or was perhaps, a most puissant master of martial arts.

You, who are reading this, are probably wondering how i was saved. I was fortunate that I had good friends, who would risk their lives to save me. Or at least had some motivation for doing it if friendship was not the cause.

I could wax lyrical about my being saved, but i will be brief... my hands start to shake badly if i write too long now.

Drakos had alerted members of the Circle to my predicament. Sirin of the Shalm answered the call, and along with Graawl the Gnoll, and Amphoris, a stranger at the time, they intercepted me, captured me, and subdued me, despite my vigorous attempts to escape. They tried positive healing tricks to remove the taint from my heart, but the infection from the wastes was too strong, so they came up with another plan, to go to the source of the infection and try to heal me there.

On the way we met Aeron, the man who had been the trigger for these events, and with his help, and their combined efforts, they came up with a way for me to heal myself from within. They tricked me into believing a shadow was the shade of my father, come to forgive me and give me his love. The combination of environment, which had already sent my mind spiraling, along with the "shade" of my father and his words, it did something... from within the light of my soul pushed away the darkness. My colour returned, and my heart lifted, i was cured.

Sirin and the others helped me return to the grove to convalesce, and i gave those who were willing to receive gifts of thanks for their efforts.

So, this was the end of the darkness that tainted my soul, and even though afterward i learned that the shadow of my father was but a trick, by this time I had come to terms with the memory of him that resided within me, and, perhaps the most important, i had come to understand better who I was, and what I wanted. Now I would be a free spirit, my own man... yes, man. My fancies had not changed, but I would be more restrained, or to be crude about it, less of a whore. And of course, my taste in clothes would for some time remain a little unusual.

Here is stop for now, i may continue my stories further, but the light dims... maybe the sun is going down, or maybe my eyesight is finally failing me altogether. I care not.

Time rewinds a little... back to the present.... or is it the past? It is hard to tell.

The youthful elf, Gluboiy, writes a note.

Dear Hildmor,

I don't know why i am writing this to you, there is only Drakos who may care, but he is so remote these days.

I wish to inform you, i'm leaving Sigil.... for good.

I have found a lady, one who has changed my heart and life around. I have found a wonderful demi-plane, where the grass is always green, and peace reigns eternal.

If you can rid yourself of that dark stain upon your heart, then you and the lady Kree would be welcome to join us.

Enclosed are instructions on how to find this plane. Do not attempt to come otherwise. The plane has protections. It feeds on the souls of those who carry darkness with them.

But for me and my lady, its is paradise. I would have invited the lady Purity to join us, be she appears to have disappeared for the moment. Should you see her, please let her know where i am.

With respect.

Gluboiy.

PS: My lady is pregnant. Twins! There will be soon little Petukhs running around!