Sigil: The City of Doors

Whisper relaxed in the common pool. Soaking in the water and feeling the air currents in the open space above had a calming effect on him. It wasn't as satisfying as a natural pond out in the wilderness, but it was as close to it as he could access in Sigil.

A pale skinned Aasimar looked on in as you stand is the center and stares with a mild expression of interest.

"How is your comfort, sir?" The tone of his voice was soft, but the statement had all the signs of a man merely ticking off a box in a long to-do list.

"Excellent." he answered. "This really is a wonderful place. There's very little that could improve it."

He nods politely. "You are very kind, sir, but please let us know if you think of something that can." He lifts his head up. "Or if there is something else you might need or add-on to your visit as well." With that, he bows politely and moves onward, no doubt to the next thing. It was hard for a Cipher to sit still, after all, and he was no exception.

Gizby approached the pool and nodded at the Genasi already soaking. He disrobed from his soiled clothing, smelled his armpit and recoiled a bit with a wheezing laugh. The scrub down he got prior to being admitted was painful, like forcibly shedding his skin. He still smelled of death with an undertone of old ham. Gizby then wadded into the pool to sit across from the other man, his mouth just above the surface, whiskers sprawling. "Used to be, I never had time for a good soak. Things are looking up for ol' Gizby these days!"

"Free moments can be rare." he nodded. "It's best to indulge yourself while you can."

"When you spend all your time around corpses and tannins, a good soak is mandatory once a month or so." Gizby pulls out a bar of soap from the pile of clothes he left nearby. It's a dull pink color with "Gizby's" stamped into the surface. He pulls it to his face and inhales deeply through his nose. "Nothing beats my own variety," he waves the bar at Whisper. "Care to try it?" Gizby holds the bar out to whisper, a soft pleasant scent of rose oil, moss and hardwood exude from the bar. "Soft enough for a woman, rugged enough for a man! The proprietor's recipe I hold close to my chest, but I guarantee you won't find a better smelling, nor better cleaning bar of soap this side of Sigil." Gizby smiles welcomingly.

"Sure." he accepted the soap. "Skulking around tunnels and butchering creatures for body parts requires a good post-hunt wash, too."

"Oh?" Gizby's eyebrows raised. "What sort of body parts were you after?"

"Most recently, it was cockatrice wings." he said. "Left ones. Not the most unusual request I've received. But, still an odd one."