(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Trias, even if you were in your full glory, you'd be no match for me. Now
tell me what I need to know."
"Stay your hand, mortal. You came to me in search of knowledge that is
known to me alone. No one else in the Planes may speak of what I am to tell
you. If you truly wish this knowledge, you must promise to spare my life."
Dak'kon's eyes narrowed and he kept his blade at Trias' neck, an executioner
readying himself.
"T'chah! 'e's lied ta us a-fore, how do we know 'e won't again?" Annah
snarled. Her hair was a mess an stood on end from the blast of lightning she
took. With that tail whipping back and forth she looked like an angry alley
cat.
"It would be prudent to hold," Grace said, resting a hand on my shoulder,
"We know Trias for what he is now. If his answers don't set us on the path
you seek, we know who to return to for the truth once more." She directed
a calm but piercing gaze at the deva.
I nodded, and pressed the tip of my dagger once more into his chin to
accentuate my point, "All right. I vow to spare your life if you give me the
knowledge I seek." With that, I withdrew my blade. Dak'kon did likewise,
and Annah's lip curled before she followed suit.
Trias stood, ignoring the grave wounds he'd suffered. "The portal to the
place you seek lies within the torus above the spire, in the city of Sigil, the
City of Doors. In that city, there is a place where the dead of your kind are
taken..."
I blinked, "You mean the Mortuary?"
"It is where you awoke of late, is it not?" he almost smiled, "The planes
seem filled with such ironies of late. So close you were, then..."
"What is the key?"
"The Fortress of Regrets is mortared with tears, and like calls to like. To
enter the Fortress, you must contribute something to it. When you pass
near the portal, should you carry regret in your mind, you will feel the
presence of the portal, like the cold embrace of death."
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