The tiered seats were filled with nearly two score modrons of various kinds. There were nearly a dozen of the pyramidal ones, but nearly a score had one eye and round spheres for bodies, with two spindly legs, tiny wings and no arms. There were a handful of six-sided cube-bodied modrons, with two legs that ended in black hooves and two arms, but with two eyes on each of its facing sides.
The balcony was flanked by a pair of pentadrones that spun, lifting their flat limbs slightly as they buzzed. And within the balcony propped awkwardly atop the throne was the strangest of these creatures yet. Its head was a great sphere with ten round eyes set evenly about it, and beneath each was a long tentacle that ended in a narrow-clawed finger. The top of the sphere was a wide mouth, and the whole head rested on a pair of trunk-like elephantine legs.
"Intruders. You shall be judged,” they heard the freakish thing before them say. Its mouth did not move, but there was no doubt it came from the lead modron. A tentacle touched something on a panel before the throne and the portcullis behind them slammed shut. “I am the Decaton. I command the collective for the Master.”
“Whatta load of freaks!” Gunthar swore. Roland hushed him.
“Martin, step forward,” Kazrack whispered, stepping aside to let the watch-mage past. “You are our best talker.”
“The first question of this inquiry shall be question number one, and question number one is: Do you have an invitation?” the decaton asked.
“Oh great and unerring servant of Ptah,” Martin began looking up with arms outstretched in exaggerated supplication. “We come seeking to save our world from the random fluctuations that threaten to tear it apart because of the very existence of this Maze. We did not mean to arrive without an invitation, but it an emergency.”
“No invitation, no admittance,” the decaton said, and all the other modrons echoed the rule. “Admission without invitation is a violation.” The thing’s multi-toned voice hit a sharp dissonant chord when it said its last word.
“Violation. Violation,” the modrons all repeated in agreement in their cold voices.
“We did not seek to violate this place or its rules,” Kazrack spoke up. “But we have come to save your master, Hurgun of the Stone.”
“Perhaps you are unaware that he is trapped in the center of his own Maze and he must be rescued if the Maze is to be moved away from Aquerra and he is to retain control of it," Martin added. “Our goals here are selfless, but others who may soon access will not be so.”
“There is no center of the Maze,” the decaton replied, its voices striking dissonance again when it spoke the word ‘center’. “You are operating with incomplete data. Incomplete data leads to violations. Violation equals re-assimilation or banishment. Decaton calls to the gallery for affirmation of judgment.”
“Wait! Wait!” Martin cried out. “We have done nothing. We are here to stop the planar bleed. Surely Hurgun left you with instructions of what to do if he did not return.”
“We await your judgment, Decaton,” the other modrons all said.
“Is there not a second in command? An assistant to Hurgun?” Martin asked.
“Gilbart,” the Decaton replied with a warm group of tones that hummed nicely at the base of the back. “Gilbart is absent.”
The Keepers of the Gate all looked at each other, but none recognized the name.
“Outsider influence has led to corruption and re-programming of crucial modron units,” the Decaton said. “ We operate at less than full capacity. The modron maintenance re-assimilation station is no longer operational. However, judgment must still be made.”
“But you said yourself that we are operating with insufficient data,” Martin reasoned. “And now, so are you. You will be in violation!”
“Judgment has been reached, ” the Decaton said. “These before the Collective have been found in violation of the rules of admission and thus must face banishment.” The last word words squelched in the party’s ears, and they winced. “All in favor?”
The modrons clicked, “Aye” in perfect unison.
“Those against?” The only sound was Martin the Green growing desperate.
“You have been found to be in violation, ” the decaton said to the Keepers of the Gate. “You are to be banished. You must GO TO HELL! ”
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