"Bah. All we net's ye clueless primes, an' it's ever 'Where are we?' an' 'What are ye?' an' 'I repent this an' that!'" he scoffs, despite the sword at his throat.

"Yer in the Citadel o' Lord Quentill Paracs. Ribcage, Gate Town tae Baator. Reckon it don't help ye tae ear that, though." He sighs. "He's a tiefling, like yer friend," indicating Joshua. "An' he's a mean, crafty blood wot sentenced ye lot tae be fed tae his pet wyvern."

"As fer gettin' out? I know a couple ways. Ways ye will nae find if I'm put in the book, suren. I'm open tae fair dealing, as ye say." He pauses to think for a moment, sizing each of you up in turn. "Paracs don't know yer look. Don't know them lot neither..." he says, gesturing toward the sleeping guards being dragged into the cell. "Mayhap we feed them to the wyvern, eh? Then, at day's end, not a body's in trouble... and I show ye tae a gate o' yer choice?"

"Gate of our choice, you say? Sounds promising, but what gates do we have to choose from, eh? Where do these gates lead?"

Joshua may confirm that he believes the goat-man would hold up his end of the bargain.

The guards wear dark chainmail, overlain with cheap black felt. Aside from their armor and short swords, they carry 75 copper coins between them, a wineskin (half-full) and an iron ring with a woman's name engraved on the inside. The goat-man has a loop of keys hooked through his bracer, but the human guards had no keys themselves.

In response to Morlan's question, the goat-man scratches his chin. "Baator, though it may nae be tae yer likin', or Rigus... 'nother burg like this one, but ye won't be 'scaped felons there." He pauses, looking Morlan over for a moment before adding, "Or Sigil. City o' Doors. Grandest jewel o' the Infinite Worlds."

"I've seen not much repentin' and that's for sure," Joshua says, staring at the guard and trying to decide whether to trust him, "Ribcage eh, well you and the plaque agree on that leastwise."

Joshua thinks things over. Surely 'where are we' is a reasonable question for anyone 'netted' and diverted from their destination. Still no need to give this guy too much ground.

"Who are these poor sods, that you're willing to throw them to the rack then?" he asks. That callousness inclines him to believe, but not trust their jailer. Fed to a wyvern? Burn that! Not Joshua, and not those poor sleeping sods if he could help it.

"He'll keep this bargain," Joshua says staring up into the creature's eyes and nodding, "Let's choose a gate. I've a hankering to be elewhere sharpish"

At mention of Grand Jewels Morlan's eyes light up and his grin broadens even further.

"Now that sounds like the sort of place we ought to visit."

"Joshua, if you think we can trust this guy not to betray us then I say we leave the guards to be the wyvern's dinner and hightail it to Sigil. What do the rest of you think?"

He makes a dramatic gesture of spitting at the guards when Joshua gestures to them. "They're wretches. We pluck'm from the trees. We'll pluck more when you bloods split. No great loss to me, nor to Paracs."

"Aye," he says to Morlan, nodding as he continues, "Though I'll need yer help transportin' these poor sods 'afore I spill dark o' any gate. Fair dealings, eh?"

"What've you got for transporting prisoners then?" Joshua asks, thinking frantically.

Sending someone to their death or cursing them to it when you know they deserve it is one thing. And these wretches were happy to do it when the positions were reversed... but still...

Wait for the right moment, he tells himself, there's always another exit if you only squint at it right. He needs us to agree more than we need him. We can escape alone, but he needs us for the cover up.

Now how to use that slight advantage?

"We usually jus' bleed 'em out," he says with a shrug. "Paracs likes watchin' a struggle, but the wyvern don't care if they're dead already. An' makes my job easier, aye?"

The creature attempts an earnest smile, but his grotesque countenance does little to ease Joshua's moral qualms.

"So, whatever your name is, you want us to help you feed the guards to the wyvern, is that it? Tell me, is this going to be some kind of public execution, with the whole court watching, or just a quiet trip to the dungeon and leave 'em in the pantry? I think we need a few more details before we're going to be agreeing to this, my goaty friend."

"Well what do you say to putting on a bit of a show then," Joshua says, "but this gate better be worth the effort, we can just lock you in and cut loose alone, see who the wyvern eats then, eh?"

he shakes his head,

"well, my elven companion is right, tell us what you're signing us up for and why it's better than scarpering."