"I think we need to ask them?" Lulu sounded unsure, she obviously did not remember that part, but redcaps were above the gates anyway...

Choir nervously looks at the other party members, waiting for one of them to ask permission to enter. She was unsure what words would be best to use here.

As they approached the structure, Fran's jaw would start to drop. It really was a junkyard in hell! These scraps! Her eyes would go wide, completely forgetting about where she actually was, and the terrifying flight she just had. The artificer felt like she's a kid approaching the door of a bakeshop, but instead of her mouth salivating, her fingers were wiggling in anticipation. "Oh ho ho!"

Fran would stand there thoughtfully with the group, for maybe a few seconds after Polly asked her question and Lulu responded. There didn't seem to be any clear instructions, and not really knowing the protocol either, she'd shrug. And without skipping a beat, the red head would crack her knuckles and roll her shoulders back before striding up to the shack. "Aye! Anybody home?" She'd give the door a good rap. "Is Chukka an' Clonk around? Allo? Aye! I can help ye' with some werk or somethin'!" She'd knock a couple more times before moving her hands to her hips and staring around, tapping her foot.

While waiting for a response, Ordrag keeps his eyes and ears open for any sense that the sentries might use violence to discourage their approach...

Perception: 19

Violence was practically radiating from those tiny creature above. Imagine a miniature gnome, now put on his face a mad expression alternating with a clearly evil laughter between anger and crazy wicked grin, put on him a pointed leather cap (the colour of the blood and looking suspiciously wet), leather pants, heavy iron boots, and a heavy bladed weapon - and you get the picture of the six "redcaps" watching you from the height of the gates.

"They need to talk to Chukka, brothers!" - "No-no, they say they want Clonk!" - "Oh, I heard them too, but they did not say the magic word!" (One (decided) to look confused interrupted) "What magic word?" - "The password, of course! They did not say the password!" - "Oh, yes, yes, the password! You down there - you have to tell the password!"

Drat. Fran would pat her nose in thought. I shoulda known a fancy place like this would need one.... She'd glance over to Lulu popping a brow, then the others for any ideas. Her mouth could only get her so far before she'd get overzealous. The artificer wanted in, and actually found herself caring about them succeeding to do so.

After fighting devils and demons and literally flying through hell, Ordrag isn't about to let a few evil gnome creatures hold them up. Knowing that violent creatures often respond to violence, with a growl he yells: Listen up, you little turds! Us didn't come this far to talk trash with gutter folk. You fetch your masters or let us in, otherwise me will climb up there and shove my hammer down your throats. (Intimidation: 13).

Polly has Follow the conversation quietly and when a password is mentioned she rakes her mind for what it can be only to be interrupted a second later when Ordrag threatens them. She glances over at Ordrag and then the gnomes, unsure of how they will react and readies for a fight.  

Choir adds to Ordrag's statement, just in case it's the password, or at any rate, lets them hit a different tone of diplomacy.  "Please?"

“Uhm is the password, the password? ” Polly ask hoping to it is a riddle of some sort.

Ordrag's scary words had some unexpected effect - mad gnomes burst into laughter, wiping tears from their eyes.

"I think he is scaring us, brothers!" - "Ah-ha-ha, he thinks he does!" - "You are funny, you overgrown troglodyte!" - "They said the word though!" - "No they did not" - "They said password" - "We do not have any password!" - "Ha-ha-ha"

After a few more moments of that noisy insane exchange, one of the gnome finally yelled: "You there, quit standing around like idiots and come inside already!" After that it seemed creatures lost any interest in the group and continued watching the perimeter.

If Fran was excited with the scraps outside - now it was the time to be in awe: the area enclosed by the rampart is littered with trash and mechanical parts, some put together in a way that resembles a vehicle. Ramshackle structures, built from the same junk as the outer wall, provide shelter.

A platoon of small fey creatures mills about, all looking like feral gnomes. Several them sport tall red caps (same with those on the "guards"), some of which drip with vile ichor.

A pair of kenku carrying an assortment of strange tools, examine one of the strange vehicles, chattering to each other in high-pitched squawks. The smaller and more lively of the two cast a look at the suddenly noisy gates and saw the group. He immediately stopped cursing the machine kenku were working on, nudged with elbow his partner - a bigger silent fellow - and greeted (or at least addressed) the group, not taking his eyes from Lulu: "What a deal! Patience is a virtue! Can’t keep the boss waiting!” He made a few steps in the group's direction but then turned around and run off into one of the trash structures.

You did not have to wait long. Moments later he returned, leading a tall creature wearing a long, tattered shift covered in mud, blood, mold, and worse. The creature was ... a woman? ... an old woman? ... well, something that involuntarily brings into mind words "old hag" and is both painful to look at and impossible to look aside. Her eyes seemed to move independently of each other as she approached, her straggly brown hair (those that were not part of a literal crow nest) hanging in front of them. She had two red-eyed ravens, resting on each shoulder, that scrutinized the group. Behind her, a hulking creature built of disparate fiendish parts trudged, moaning and hopping as it walked.

Once close enough, both of the hag’s eyes finally focused keenly on the group, and on Lulu specifically. “My goodness!” the hag croaked, spittle dribbling from her mouth. “Where did you find such a treasure?”

Did she mean Lulu? Choir felt a sense of unease. "Not for sale," she hastily says, putting her arms around Lulu.

“Sorry grams, but Choir is right. Lulu is our friend and she stays with us. Are you mayhaps chukka and clonk?” She ask the two Kenku and wondering if time flow differently here then in the main world. If this really is Chukka and Clonk, how old are they?

"Nonsense!" quacked one of the raven, "Nonsense!" answered another. "Everything is for sale," finished the hag with a smile (on her face the smile looked even scarier than anger) "But I am not buying her - oh, no, not her. But glad I am to see you, sweety. Why did you return?"

Lulu looked like someone who by mistake walked into a robber's den, expecting to find a church - confused, lost and regretting her choice. Choir could feel that (usually) brave holyphant even shivers a bit. "I... I was here, I remember. I thought... My memory will return." She finished her last phrase very quietly, but the hag heard her.

"Memory? You came here for memories?" The hag made a frightful laugh. "And those with you? What are they seeking?" 

Chukka and Clonk were silent (nodding once to Polly's question) but studied both Choir and Lulu with a great interest.

"Strange vehicles...Chukka said this is the only way to move quickly across the wastelands of Avernus." Choir quoted the words Lulu spoke earlier, deciding it was best to keep things simple and not mention the sword of Zariel to these people...even if some of them were Kenku, she didn't trust Kenku who palled around with hags.

Cautiously, Adray moved into the compound with the others.  Like everything else, he didn't trust anything.  Regardless, it was still the best lead they had.  Stepping forward he added "Like was said, some sort of strange vehicle and Chukka and Clunk.  Is that something that can be provided?"

Polly lean in to Choir. ”Choir, how old does Kenku get?” She whisper, letting Adrey take the lead in the conversation. 

Ordrag listens in on the conversation, wary of danger and glaring at the redcaps. He has decided he doesn't like redcaps.

Choir answers Polly, "Sixty years, maybe.  Sixtyish." She was not sure it mattered in Hell...

”Then, aren’t chukka and clonk way too old?” Polly ask and once again she ponders the flow of time here in hell.