Indeed, OOC info for those that are unaware (though as I've now posted it in the Colonial Senate, everyone on the island _should_ know!:
A New Portal? (10 hours, 39 minutes ago)
message to everyone in the vicinity of Outer Tilog
The portal stones placed by Bilbo sit in the out-of-the-way alley in Outer Tilog for over a day before anything interesting happens.
A few hours after dusk on the second day, though, the stones rise from the ground and begin to spin. As they spin faster and faster, they form a six-foot-wide glowing disc of energy, which rotates until is is perpendicular to the ground. With a thunderous snap, the portal opens, and a screeching horde of hellish creatures pours forth from it.
As they swarm out of the alley and into the streets of Outer Tilog, the first humans they encounter are quaffing ale at a table outside a pub. "Why, I tell you," one of them, an old codger with fewer teeth than fingers (and not as many of those as he was born with) grumbles, "things wash better back in th' old days. Why, we had proper terror and torture back then! No' like th' stuff you young'unsh get now!"
The curmudgeon looks up past the shoulder of his drinking companion and sees the horde of demons. "Aye," he cries, pointing at them, "like that!" He stands unsteadily, and stumbles toward them.
"Oi, you lot!" he calls out to them.
The horde stops, looking confused, and one of the ones in front hesitantly points a claw at its chest.
"Aye, you!" the old fool shouts, shaking a crooked finger at them. "Where've ye been these past years! Ourter—ooter—otter—thish plashe has gone to the dogs! To the dogs, I say! And aren't ye ashamed that it hasn't gone to ye?!"
During this tirade, the demonic horde has been slowly slinking back into the alley. After a few minutes, the old coot finally notices this, and starts staggering off after them. "Hey, wait! I wasn' finished wit' you!"
He follows them back down the alley to where they have been scrambling back through the portal, and grabs one by its hugely-oversized ear. "Oh, no, y'don't!" he yells, right into the ear. The demon winces in obvious pain, and pulls away, darting through the portal before the man's inebriated reflexes can respond.
Nothing daunted, and with enough liquid courage in him to inspire a battalion, he lowers his head and charges right into the wall.
Wait...
Shaking his head, he turns a few degrees to the right and charges straight through the portal.
By this time, his drinking companion has come over to the mouth of the alley to see what is going on. He watches open-mouthed as the oldster goes right through a portal to hell (or someplace just as bad), then scrunches up his face in befuddlement at the noises of yelling and screeching that drift back through.
After several minutes of this, the old man marches back through with exaggerated care, followed by a couple of very subdued (and confused) looking imps, their wings fluttering madly to keep them aloft while carrying a ten-foot-tall statue of legendary former Mistress of Injustice Despyria in the midst of her favourite activity: torturing a prisoner.
The statue appears to be made entirely of finger- and toenails, held together by some substance that would probably be best not inquired into too closely.
Some of them still have bits of finger and toe attached.
The imps set the statue down right in front of the tavern, much to the obvious satisfaction of the drunk old man, then zip back through the portal before he can yell at them again. The instant the second imp disappears through the portal, there is another thunderclap as it snaps shut.
