Sigil
(This is from DMG 5e)
Sigil, City of Doors:
At the centre of the Outlands, like the axle of a great wheel, is the Spire — a needle-shaped mountain that rises high into the sky. Above this mountain’s narrow peak floats the ring-shaped city of Sigil, its myriad structures built on the ring’s inner rim. Creatures standing on one of Sigil’s streets can see the city curve up over their heads and — most disconcerting of all — the far side of the city directly overhead. Called the City of Doors, this bustling planar metropolis holds countless portals to other planes and worlds. Sigil is a trader’s paradise. Goods, merchandise, and information come here from across the planes. The city sustains a brisk trade in information about the planes, particularly the command words or items required for the operation of particular portals. Portal keys of all kinds are bought and sold here. The city is the domain of the inscrutable Lady of Pain, a being as old as gods and with purposes unknown to even the sages of her city. Is Sigil her prison? Is she the fallen creator of the multiverse? No one knows. Or if they do, they aren’t telling. Faction_War_(2e) THE LADY'S WARD:
The Lady's Ward is an archetype of contradiction, and it's funny that most berks don't see it that way-at least not immediately. The ward is home to the rich and the powerful, as well as the law of the city. See the contradiction? The rich and the powerful of Sigil are as far from the law as any knight of the post in the Hive. Folks say that The Lady's Ward hasn't always been called that. Chant is, it was once called the Palace Ward. It was renamed, the story goes, to appease the Lady herself. 'Course, the touts who tell this tale also say it's the oldest ward in the city-and how can that be true? Given the city's nature, wouldn't it all have been created (or whatever) at the same time? Well, that's for bigger minds (with less to do) to contemplate. The Lady's Ward is easily divided into two parts: the High Houses and the Law Houses. These definitions don't refer to areas so much as function. That is to say, a body can't draw a line between the High Houses "area" and the Law Houses "area." Nothing in the Cage is ever that easy. THE LOWER WARD:
If a body were to ask, "in which of the wards do the people of Sigil live?" the correct answer would be, of course, all of them. Nevertheless, about half the time, the answer's likely to be "in the Lower Ward." That's probably for two reasons. The first is simply that the other wards are known for something other than residences-the Lower Ward isn't. The second is that, depending on the body answering the question, the phrase "people of Sigil" might be significant. A typical Cager likely will have the prideful opinion that it's the common folk, not the factols, the wealthy, or the warriors, who make up the City of Doors. It's the common folk who live in the Lower Ward. The ward is divided up into some of the most varied and interesting districts found in the Cage. Sure, the air takes some getting used to, the streets are dirty and dangerous, and folks here don't always take well to strangers-but at least it's not the Hive. Plus, the border areas, like Swordhold or most of the Shattered Temple district, ain't so bad. The air's more breathable and the folks are reasonably friendly (still a little peery of strangers, though). THE CLERK'S WARD:
"If wards was people, the Clerk's Ward'd be a real soddin' pain in the neck. Prob'ly a modron." So says Unger Fanax, an Indep tout. Not everyone shares this sentiment. It is, however, worthwhile to note that most folks think of maze like offices, long lines, and stacks of forms to fill out when they consider the Clerk's Ward. If a chaos-loving cutter thought he was free from the strictures of law and order when he left The Lady's Ward, he just doesn't understand Sigil. Looking for order? Never mind the Harmonium in the City Barracks or the Guvners in their Courts; just visit the Clerk's Ward (and fill out the proper forms). Still, the comparisons of the two wards are obvious. The Clerk's Ward doesn't have the finery of The Lady's Ward, but it is just as clean, if not more so. Hardhead soldiers keep the streets well patrolled. The orderly and well-kept buildings bear similarities to their neighbors. It's been said that the main difference between the Clerk's Ward and The Lady's Ward is that if a body finds the power behind the scenes in the latter, in the former he'll find the scenes themselves. That is to say, the obvious political power of the City of Doors lies in the Clerk's Ward. Bashers come here when they want permission to do something, whether it's to put up a new building, start a new tout service, or bring a herd of Bytopian sheep into the Market Ward for sale. The bureaucracy of Sigil loves to hand out licenses, and the Clerk's Ward is where a sod stands in line to obtain one. That skinny berk behind the counter might prove nothing more than a moment's work on a battlefield to a trained warrior, but that clerk has the power to take away the warrior's right to carry a sword, buy goods, or even walk the streets of Sigil at night if he wants, so the mighty hero's wise to treat him well. It just goes to show, a cutter can't judge a hasher's worth by looking at him. Appearances, more than anything else, can be deceiving in the City of Doors. More than just a place to apply for licenses and pay taxes, the Clerk's Ward houses the main legislative body in Sigil-the Hall of Speakers. These bloods make the laws and regulations, so they're to be respected. Nevertheless, that doesn't change how much power is really in the hands of the petty officials in Sigil. The administrators, the clerk supervisors, and the application officers all but hold a Cager's life in their hands. Because of that, most are as corrupt as Sigil is round, living far beyond their means on garnish alone. Jink is the goal in the Market Ward, it's said, but in the Clerk's Ward it's the means toward the goal. THE GUILDHALL WARD:
Some folks can't tell where the Guildhall Ward starts and the Market Ward ends. "Isn't it all just the same?" they ask. Well, not really. Although the ward derives its name from the guilds that once dominated the area, most of those have faded away. Now, the Guildhall Ward exists as a sort of domain of the middle class. Many of the merchants from the Market Ward-those not wealthy enough to live on Copperman Way but not forced to live in their shop or sleep next to their cart-live in the Guildhall Ward. Likewise, this ward houses many who perform services rather than just sell goods: craftsmen, cobblers, tinkers, tailors, leatherworkers, smiths, scribes, guides, masons, carpenters...and the list goes on. THE MARKET WARD:
As the name implies, the Market Ward holds the key to commerce in the Cage. Shops, warehouses, markets, and bazaars make up most of the ward. Merchants and their employees live here as well-and it's not too hard to find an establishment in which a body can obtain something to eat or a decent kip to sleep in, either. 'Course, with all the things to be bought in the ward, a berk won't have a difficult time finding a moneylender to extend her a big, fat loan-with a big, fat interest rate and the bruisers to back the 'lender up at collection time. Merchants of the Market Ward range from wealthy and powerful bloods who own rows of warehouses and transport vast amounts of goods from plane to plane to simple street peddlers with rickety wooden carts that hold all their wares. Some items are imported from the remotest quarters of the multiverse, and some are made by craftsmen right here in the Cage. Even with Harmonium patrols watching over the streets and shops of the ward, there's just too much money exchanging hands to expect the cutpurses, cony-catchers, muggers, and pickpockets to be far away. The established shopkeepers have minders to help protect them against thieves, while the simpler dealers have only their own wits and skills to protect them. And the cross-trade doesn't stop there. Many of the criminals are organized into elaborate networks, organizations, and guilds. The authorities root these out when they can, but more often than not the thieving, fencing networks escape real punishment and actually supply a surprising percentage of the vendors. If a body's been bobbed in the City of Doors and he wants his stuff back, the best place to look is in the Market Ward. But enough about all that. The most important things in the Market Ward are, of course, the markets and what a body can buy there. THE HIVE WARD:
Firahar's book on the Hive Ward describes it as a cooking recipe: "Cram thousands of cross-traders, numerous fiends, and a variety of monsters into a small, rundown area. Sprinkle liberally with impoverished sods and diseased beggars. Top off with some of the barmiest berks in the multiverse. Serve." He doesn't paint a pretty picture, but it ain't inaccurate, either. The Hive is the slum of Sigil, though newcomers often jokingly point out that it's hard to tell. 'Course, after they've spent some time in the Hive Ward, then they're able to tell. The Hive is everything bad about Sigil, but doubly so. Infested with thieves, cutthroats, fiends, and creatures most folks'd label monsters (ores, trolls, goblins, khaasta, reaves, mephits, and much worse), the Hive's a dangerous area. Garbage litters the street, and rats and other vermin nibble on corpses before the Dustmen can arrive to cart them away to the Mortuary. It's a grim, dismal place of pain, fear, and poverty. UNDERSIGIL:
First off, nobody calls it UnderSigil. That's such a Prime name. Folks just refer to it as "down below," "the catacombs," "the Realm Below," or even "the labyrinths" (but never the Mazes-they're something else, berk). 'Course, UnderSigil's very existence begs the question: What's Sigil made out of that berks can dig down into it? Well, some graybeards have (seriously) devoted their lives to researching the answer to that very question, and they came up with this: No one knows. Any dwarf can tell that it's not stone. It looks a little like stone, though, and it's about as hard. While a basher needs a pick, a shovel, and a good strong back to carve his way through it, unlike stone it's not good for building, shaping, or anything else. Once broken from the main mass, the chippings become crumbly and brittle like bits of a dry rice cake. That's why folks have to ship stone, wood, and other materials through the portals to build anything in Sigil. Whatever material comprises the torus itself, it's useless for making anything but dust. So when folks refer to the dirt streets in a particular district or the soil on their boots from walking around the Hive, they're talking about the dust that comes in through the constantly opening portals, the detritus of long-since crumbled buildings, and the cast-off grime from the beings that have lived in Sigil since who-knows-when. The Cage doesn't have dirt or soil in the earthy, plant-a-tree-and-watch- it-grow sense. Not unless it's been shipped in at great expense, that is. In any event, the labyrinthine catacombs that run under the streets and buildings of the City of Doors provide Cagers with an endless mystery to discuss over meals or a flagon of ale. See, some bashers think that the catacombs aren't really down there at all. Can't be, they claim, because there's no "down there" for them to occupy. These folks believe the entrances to the catacombs are really keyless portals and the tunnels and chambers actually exist on some other plane-not unlike the demiplanes where the Lady makes her Mazes. As corroborating evidence, these chant mongers offer up the fact that whenever a body digs down real far, instead of reaching the outside of the ring of Sigil, he just disappears. Sure enough, this seems to be the case. No one's ever tunnelled all the way to the outside-not even close. In fact, ask a greybeard and he can't even tell how thick the torus really is, not with any grain of surety. No one knows that little fact either, though it sure seems like an easy enough question. (For a place that people have lived in for millennia, Sigil still presents a surprising number of mysteries.) Most folks don't twig to the whole other-plane explanation of the catacombs. If it looks simple enough, they say, don't muddy the waters. In Sigil as well as on the planes, when something doesn't need a strange theory, don't attach one to it. But if that's so and the tunnels and passages are nothing more than what they seem, then where exactly do the dabus go, and why can't a cutter follow?
At the centre of the Outlands, like the axle of a great wheel, is the Spire — a needle-shaped mountain that rises high into the sky. Above this mountain’s narrow peak floats the ring-shaped city of Sigil, its myriad structures built on the ring’s inner rim. Creatures standing on one of Sigil’s streets can see the city curve up over their heads and — most disconcerting of all — the far side of the city directly overhead. Called the City of Doors, this bustling planar metropolis holds countless portals to other planes and worlds. Sigil is a trader’s paradise. Goods, merchandise, and information come here from across the planes. The city sustains a brisk trade in information about the planes, particularly the command words or items required for the operation of particular portals. Portal keys of all kinds are bought and sold here. The city is the domain of the inscrutable Lady of Pain, a being as old as gods and with purposes unknown to even the sages of her city. Is Sigil her prison? Is she the fallen creator of the multiverse? No one knows. Or if they do, they aren’t telling. Faction_War_(2e) THE LADY'S WARD:
The Lady's Ward is an archetype of contradiction, and it's funny that most berks don't see it that way-at least not immediately. The ward is home to the rich and the powerful, as well as the law of the city. See the contradiction? The rich and the powerful of Sigil are as far from the law as any knight of the post in the Hive. Folks say that The Lady's Ward hasn't always been called that. Chant is, it was once called the Palace Ward. It was renamed, the story goes, to appease the Lady herself. 'Course, the touts who tell this tale also say it's the oldest ward in the city-and how can that be true? Given the city's nature, wouldn't it all have been created (or whatever) at the same time? Well, that's for bigger minds (with less to do) to contemplate. The Lady's Ward is easily divided into two parts: the High Houses and the Law Houses. These definitions don't refer to areas so much as function. That is to say, a body can't draw a line between the High Houses "area" and the Law Houses "area." Nothing in the Cage is ever that easy. THE LOWER WARD:
If a body were to ask, "in which of the wards do the people of Sigil live?" the correct answer would be, of course, all of them. Nevertheless, about half the time, the answer's likely to be "in the Lower Ward." That's probably for two reasons. The first is simply that the other wards are known for something other than residences-the Lower Ward isn't. The second is that, depending on the body answering the question, the phrase "people of Sigil" might be significant. A typical Cager likely will have the prideful opinion that it's the common folk, not the factols, the wealthy, or the warriors, who make up the City of Doors. It's the common folk who live in the Lower Ward. The ward is divided up into some of the most varied and interesting districts found in the Cage. Sure, the air takes some getting used to, the streets are dirty and dangerous, and folks here don't always take well to strangers-but at least it's not the Hive. Plus, the border areas, like Swordhold or most of the Shattered Temple district, ain't so bad. The air's more breathable and the folks are reasonably friendly (still a little peery of strangers, though). THE CLERK'S WARD:
"If wards was people, the Clerk's Ward'd be a real soddin' pain in the neck. Prob'ly a modron." So says Unger Fanax, an Indep tout. Not everyone shares this sentiment. It is, however, worthwhile to note that most folks think of maze like offices, long lines, and stacks of forms to fill out when they consider the Clerk's Ward. If a chaos-loving cutter thought he was free from the strictures of law and order when he left The Lady's Ward, he just doesn't understand Sigil. Looking for order? Never mind the Harmonium in the City Barracks or the Guvners in their Courts; just visit the Clerk's Ward (and fill out the proper forms). Still, the comparisons of the two wards are obvious. The Clerk's Ward doesn't have the finery of The Lady's Ward, but it is just as clean, if not more so. Hardhead soldiers keep the streets well patrolled. The orderly and well-kept buildings bear similarities to their neighbors. It's been said that the main difference between the Clerk's Ward and The Lady's Ward is that if a body finds the power behind the scenes in the latter, in the former he'll find the scenes themselves. That is to say, the obvious political power of the City of Doors lies in the Clerk's Ward. Bashers come here when they want permission to do something, whether it's to put up a new building, start a new tout service, or bring a herd of Bytopian sheep into the Market Ward for sale. The bureaucracy of Sigil loves to hand out licenses, and the Clerk's Ward is where a sod stands in line to obtain one. That skinny berk behind the counter might prove nothing more than a moment's work on a battlefield to a trained warrior, but that clerk has the power to take away the warrior's right to carry a sword, buy goods, or even walk the streets of Sigil at night if he wants, so the mighty hero's wise to treat him well. It just goes to show, a cutter can't judge a hasher's worth by looking at him. Appearances, more than anything else, can be deceiving in the City of Doors. More than just a place to apply for licenses and pay taxes, the Clerk's Ward houses the main legislative body in Sigil-the Hall of Speakers. These bloods make the laws and regulations, so they're to be respected. Nevertheless, that doesn't change how much power is really in the hands of the petty officials in Sigil. The administrators, the clerk supervisors, and the application officers all but hold a Cager's life in their hands. Because of that, most are as corrupt as Sigil is round, living far beyond their means on garnish alone. Jink is the goal in the Market Ward, it's said, but in the Clerk's Ward it's the means toward the goal. THE GUILDHALL WARD:
Some folks can't tell where the Guildhall Ward starts and the Market Ward ends. "Isn't it all just the same?" they ask. Well, not really. Although the ward derives its name from the guilds that once dominated the area, most of those have faded away. Now, the Guildhall Ward exists as a sort of domain of the middle class. Many of the merchants from the Market Ward-those not wealthy enough to live on Copperman Way but not forced to live in their shop or sleep next to their cart-live in the Guildhall Ward. Likewise, this ward houses many who perform services rather than just sell goods: craftsmen, cobblers, tinkers, tailors, leatherworkers, smiths, scribes, guides, masons, carpenters...and the list goes on. THE MARKET WARD:
As the name implies, the Market Ward holds the key to commerce in the Cage. Shops, warehouses, markets, and bazaars make up most of the ward. Merchants and their employees live here as well-and it's not too hard to find an establishment in which a body can obtain something to eat or a decent kip to sleep in, either. 'Course, with all the things to be bought in the ward, a berk won't have a difficult time finding a moneylender to extend her a big, fat loan-with a big, fat interest rate and the bruisers to back the 'lender up at collection time. Merchants of the Market Ward range from wealthy and powerful bloods who own rows of warehouses and transport vast amounts of goods from plane to plane to simple street peddlers with rickety wooden carts that hold all their wares. Some items are imported from the remotest quarters of the multiverse, and some are made by craftsmen right here in the Cage. Even with Harmonium patrols watching over the streets and shops of the ward, there's just too much money exchanging hands to expect the cutpurses, cony-catchers, muggers, and pickpockets to be far away. The established shopkeepers have minders to help protect them against thieves, while the simpler dealers have only their own wits and skills to protect them. And the cross-trade doesn't stop there. Many of the criminals are organized into elaborate networks, organizations, and guilds. The authorities root these out when they can, but more often than not the thieving, fencing networks escape real punishment and actually supply a surprising percentage of the vendors. If a body's been bobbed in the City of Doors and he wants his stuff back, the best place to look is in the Market Ward. But enough about all that. The most important things in the Market Ward are, of course, the markets and what a body can buy there. THE HIVE WARD:
Firahar's book on the Hive Ward describes it as a cooking recipe: "Cram thousands of cross-traders, numerous fiends, and a variety of monsters into a small, rundown area. Sprinkle liberally with impoverished sods and diseased beggars. Top off with some of the barmiest berks in the multiverse. Serve." He doesn't paint a pretty picture, but it ain't inaccurate, either. The Hive is the slum of Sigil, though newcomers often jokingly point out that it's hard to tell. 'Course, after they've spent some time in the Hive Ward, then they're able to tell. The Hive is everything bad about Sigil, but doubly so. Infested with thieves, cutthroats, fiends, and creatures most folks'd label monsters (ores, trolls, goblins, khaasta, reaves, mephits, and much worse), the Hive's a dangerous area. Garbage litters the street, and rats and other vermin nibble on corpses before the Dustmen can arrive to cart them away to the Mortuary. It's a grim, dismal place of pain, fear, and poverty. UNDERSIGIL:
First off, nobody calls it UnderSigil. That's such a Prime name. Folks just refer to it as "down below," "the catacombs," "the Realm Below," or even "the labyrinths" (but never the Mazes-they're something else, berk). 'Course, UnderSigil's very existence begs the question: What's Sigil made out of that berks can dig down into it? Well, some graybeards have (seriously) devoted their lives to researching the answer to that very question, and they came up with this: No one knows. Any dwarf can tell that it's not stone. It looks a little like stone, though, and it's about as hard. While a basher needs a pick, a shovel, and a good strong back to carve his way through it, unlike stone it's not good for building, shaping, or anything else. Once broken from the main mass, the chippings become crumbly and brittle like bits of a dry rice cake. That's why folks have to ship stone, wood, and other materials through the portals to build anything in Sigil. Whatever material comprises the torus itself, it's useless for making anything but dust. So when folks refer to the dirt streets in a particular district or the soil on their boots from walking around the Hive, they're talking about the dust that comes in through the constantly opening portals, the detritus of long-since crumbled buildings, and the cast-off grime from the beings that have lived in Sigil since who-knows-when. The Cage doesn't have dirt or soil in the earthy, plant-a-tree-and-watch- it-grow sense. Not unless it's been shipped in at great expense, that is. In any event, the labyrinthine catacombs that run under the streets and buildings of the City of Doors provide Cagers with an endless mystery to discuss over meals or a flagon of ale. See, some bashers think that the catacombs aren't really down there at all. Can't be, they claim, because there's no "down there" for them to occupy. These folks believe the entrances to the catacombs are really keyless portals and the tunnels and chambers actually exist on some other plane-not unlike the demiplanes where the Lady makes her Mazes. As corroborating evidence, these chant mongers offer up the fact that whenever a body digs down real far, instead of reaching the outside of the ring of Sigil, he just disappears. Sure enough, this seems to be the case. No one's ever tunnelled all the way to the outside-not even close. In fact, ask a greybeard and he can't even tell how thick the torus really is, not with any grain of surety. No one knows that little fact either, though it sure seems like an easy enough question. (For a place that people have lived in for millennia, Sigil still presents a surprising number of mysteries.) Most folks don't twig to the whole other-plane explanation of the catacombs. If it looks simple enough, they say, don't muddy the waters. In Sigil as well as on the planes, when something doesn't need a strange theory, don't attach one to it. But if that's so and the tunnels and passages are nothing more than what they seem, then where exactly do the dabus go, and why can't a cutter follow?
Geography
THE LADY'S WARD:
THE HIGH HOUSES:
The High Houses are the palaces and mansions of Sigil. These regal dwellings are surrounded by well-kept homes for serving staffs, fine (and expensive) shops and services, and elegant places to dine, drink, and be entertained. Want to part with a fortune? Spend a night in The Lady's Ward, as the saying goes. Sigil's rich-also known as the golden lords, the knights of the ward (referring to The Lady's Ward), and the keepers of the trust-live in utter opulence. Some would add "decadence" as well. Most of the Clueless can't even begin to grasp the wealth of these bloods. They can buy and sell entire cities or even kingdoms, although they rarely take part in anything so sordid. On prime worlds kings and emperors possess most of the wealth, but here in Sigil, folks have taken the fortunes of kings and used it to establish financial empires almost always built upon interplanar trading. (Mercenaries and planewalkers take note: Those berks who've turned down jobs escorting planar trading caravans or shipments because it was too "lowly" a duty have probably missed out on the chance to impress some real top-shelf bloods!) Most of the golden lords are so wealthy that they no longer play any part in their own financial empires. The wealth and influence is simply too great to be managed by one basher, so they employ an army of underlings to administer things for them. Many of these managers are fabulously rich merchants in their own right, and no one knows that they are only "middle management." Even the managers don't know that they work for the same lord. It's a conspiracy of wealth. The knights of the ward spend their time living the good life as only The Lady's Ward can provide. Most, however, are not content to simply enjoy the finest food, drink, entertainment, and luxury that the planes have to offer. Instead, they use their position to manipulate people and events to their benefit-not to gain more wealth (for their wealth is almost limitless), but to gain power. In Sigil, at the heart of it all, they attempt to pull the strings that control the multiverse. Some greybeards-the paranoid ones-say that if a body wants to see the cause behind anything that happens on the planes, he should look to the High Houses of The Lady's Ward. Now, that's taking things way too far. Most tanar'ri, for example, couldn't give a ratatosk's third toe for what some rich basher in the Cage thinks or wants. Planetars aren't impressed by wealth. Most slaadi, well, most slaadi'd probably say "where?" if Sigil was mentioned. 'Course, that doesn't mean that these groups can't be manipulated by master string-pullers like the golden lords of Sigil. Even the high-up baatezu admit to having a fair bit of respect for these canny manipulators. Many of those among the otherwise well landed Cagers don't know of the "wars" fought among the wealthy bloods of Sigil. That's because these silent wars of treachery, manipulation, deceit, and double-dealing don't often leak out into the Cage. The golden lords use their money and influence like weapons, smashing the plots of their enemies while advancing their own. If these silent wars sound similar to the endless struggles for control that the factions of Sigil fight all the time, it's no coincidence. Their goals frequently correspond, and the golden lords and the factions use each other for their own ends. Remember, many of the knights of the ward are also faction members- or fierce opponents. For example, the d'Arlen family, particularly its current master, Timmon (Pl/ o human/F6/N), has long strived to gain complete control of all of the touts in Sigil. Now, the obvious question would be, "why?" The answer is simple. The touts are often the first source of knowledge for the Clueless who come to town. Therefore, anyone who controls what the touts say, where they direct the newcomers, and what they don't say becomes an extremely powerful basher. It's a simple way to subtly control an entire segment of the population. And it's a segment that many overlook as insignificant, so there shouldn't be any opposition, right? Well, that's what the d'Arlens thought too. Chant has it that the Ciphers caught wind of what the d'Arlens were up to and immediately decided to stop them. Why? It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Cipher funds began pouring onto the streets of the Cage to buy off existing touts or to hire and train new ones. This jink was channelled through so many different sources (the resources of any faction are quite astounding) that the d'Arlens had no idea that their competition was an entire faction until literally years had passed. When Timmon d'Arlen took control of the family empire upon the death of his mother (the circumstances were not questionable-Timmon is very good at what he does), he tumbled to the fact that the Ciphers were vying for control of the city guides. Rather than concede to a superior force, Timmon directed his influence and considerable monies toward gaining the alliance of Facto! Emma Oakwright of the Fated. Once he had established a relationship with the Takers, he maneuverer them into investigating the fact that a great many touts-particularly those who had shown up during the recent increase in the ranks of that profession over the last few years-were woefully neglect in paying their taxes. Suddenly, the touts of the city, especially those in the pocket of the Ciphers, were hunted on the Cage's streets by the Fated with the muscular help of the Harmonium. (Many touts still refer to those few months as the "dark times.") Though the Transcendent Order was able to recover some of its losses by harbouring its touts (or simply paying their back taxes through circuitous jink-paths), the d'Arlens had won a significant victory in their silent war. This and many other wars go on even today, with new "battlefields," "weapons," "casualties," and "spoils." They may not seem like conventionally fought wars, but their outcomes are just as important and far-reaching. THE TEMPLES:
Also counted among the High Houses are the temples of The Lady's Ward, most of which are palaces in their own right. The temples found here are extravagant places dedicated to the most powerful or respected powers in the multiverse. A body might say that The Lady's Ward is built more on respect-sometimes begrudging respect-than on money or real power. Why build a temple to a power in a place where that power can't go? Why would anyone care in the Cage? It seems a simple question, but it's not. Even the cynicism and jadedness of the City of Doors can't completely drown out faith and devotion. True believers and followers worship their gods no matter where in the multiverse they go. That's understandable. But it doesn't completely explain the temples of Sigil-Cagers (those born and bred here) are an impious lot. That doesn't mean that the Athar have won their propaganda war; it just means that it's easy to get caught up in the daily grind in Sigil and forget about the gods. Worrying about keeping the authorities off a body's back and the barmies from his mind, keeping the faction high-ups happy and paying his taxes keeps a berk pretty busy. And all that doesn't even take into account a body's family, job concerns, and everything else that goes into making a life an interesting thing to live. Even those who take the time to think about the big picture are more likely to think about factional beliefs that try to explain the multiverse than about religion. No, the temples in Sigil are more about respect than devotion. A power's followers and proxies, if they've got enough clout, establish a temple in the City of Doors primarily as a statement about that god's power rather than providing a place for the local congregation to worship (although it serves that purpose too). The temples, especially those found in The Lady's Ward, stand as showy structures of grandiose presentation and awe-inspiring architecture. The priests of these temples hold their own sort of political power in the Cage, similar to (but not nearly the equal of) the golden lords. Many are proxies of the powers themselves, and the temples are their palatial homes as well as monuments in honour of the deity they represent. Intrigue plays a big part in the activities of the temples of this ward. Each schemes to become greater than the others. Even establishing a temple in The Lady's Ward is difficult, since every other temple there tries to stop it from happening. Garnish, favours, and flattery need to be spread thick and in the right places to be successful. Once established, various churches and temples wage wars of lies, deceit, politics, and even vandalism against each other. Holy relics are stolen or defaced, religious rituals are sabotaged, and parishioners are accosted or threatened. And don't be fooled into thinking that only temples dedicated to evil powers conduct themselves in this way. Neutral and even good priests are forced to stoop to these tactics just to survive. One temple or another is always looking for mercenaries or planewalkers to do some dirty deed to an opposing faith or simply to help protect themselves from their numerous enemies. But when it comes to planewalkers, most look at temples with one thing in mind: getting wounds healed and sicknesses cured. While there're obviously plenty of exceptions, most adventurers just aren't very pious. This outlook fits in real well in the Cage. A few of the temples have become more houses of healing than places of worship (if they ever really were that to begin with). These places found that the business of curing the sick and tending to wounds can be extremely lucrative. The temples of Apollo, Diancecht, Pelor, and even Frigga have expanded and grown to a level of power and influence far exceeding the rank and status of the powers they represent simply because they offer healing. The cost of healing fluctuates from day to day, based on what somebody from the Market Ward might call the "going market value." On average, however, a body should expect to pay around 100 gp per level of the spell that the priest has to use. Other charges might apply depending on the situation. LAW, JUSTICE, AND INEVITABLE DOOM:
Want to find the common folk in The Lady's Ward? Sadly, the best place to look is around the Prison or the Tower of the Wyrm at execution time. Bashers come quite regularly from the Lower Ward (and the rest of town) to watch justice done by the Mercykillers. The Law Houses are the City Barracks, the Prison, and the City Court. Each has a small "community" of homes, shops, and services that cater to those who work in those places and those who visit. The demeanour of the residents is the best guide to whether a body's in a High House or a Law,2 House locale. Even the servants of the High Houses dress and smell better than a good number of the poor sods forced to visit the City Court or the Prison, for example. Likewise, the military atmosphere surrounding the City Barracks won't be found around the High Houses (although security there is just as tight). The Law Houses have a distinctly different feel than the rest of the comfortable and well-kept ward. Oh, it's not that they're not well kept, it's just that the militaristic feel of the Law Houses areas are grim where the other areas are elegant, and harsh where the others are pristine. Interestingly, the three "Law House factions" (the Fraternity of Order, the Harmonium, and the Mercykillers) don't feel that they control or have a special attachment to the ward by any means. The factions have much loftier goals than that, and they're content to allow the knights of the ward and the priests of the great temples to conduct their little struggles for supremacy. The Law Houses don't generally involve themselves with High House dealings unless they impact the factions' works. Likewise, the Doomguard (whose Armory is based at the edge of The Lady's Ward) doesn't feel any special affiliation with it. In fact, many Doomguard hold a special distaste for the ward and its inhabitants. The members of this faction look upon the wealthy lords as foolish sods who waste their money building empires that're destined to crumble. LIVING IN THE LADY'S WARD:
Although it's easy to think that the ward comprises only the High Houses and the Law Houses, the folks who live in The Lady's Ward separate the ward into six districts: the Court District (surrounds the City Court), Firmground (the City Barracks area), the Armory District (the blocks around the Armory, also known as Entropy's Gem), the Graytowers District (surrounds the Prison), the Temple District, and the vast Nobles' District. While many of the residents of The Lady's Ward are wealthy, many more are not. These folks work as servants in the High Houses or operate the shops, restaurants, taverns, and services that serve the knights of the ward. Plus, many members of the Harmonium, Mercykillers, Fraternity of Order, and the Doomguard live near the headquarters of their factions (not all, by any means, but some do), and they're certainly not all rich. But who's fooling who? The Lady's Ward is for the rich. That can't be denied, and nobody really argues the point. The streets here are safer (or more dangerous for knights of the post), the buildings are better kept, and a body's got access to all the good things the planes have to offer-if a basher is of the right sort. The Hardheads patrolling the streets of the ward can tell by sight (so they say) who belongs in the ward and who doesn't. They escort the "wrong sorts of people" right out of the Noble's District if they don't arrest them outright. The other districts are more open and forgiving, but the entire ward bears the character of the stomping grounds of the elitist rich to one extent or another. The main streets here are wide and open. The narrow alleys appear more like normal streets in the rest of the Cage. The wide streets aren't the reason that a body won't find himself in a crowd here, though. Folks get where they're going and hurry inside. The Hardhead patrols are thick, and no one wants to be scragged for doing something they didn't even realize was wrong. Why take the chance? The wealthy spend much of their time attending formal balls and elegant parties where they forge new alliances and spar with their foes, all under a pretence of manners and protocol. The rest of their time is spent shopping (here and in the Market Ward), entertaining guests with grand banquets or expensive amusements, and taking holidays to other worlds through the well-guarded and well-regulated portals of the ward. The annual "holiday" called Grace is celebrated with a huge masquerade ball held in the fantastically large Palace of the Jester. All the social elite-and those wanting to see or be seen with them-attend this event. Over a thousand attendees appear at the yearly gala, which is hosted by a different family each year. Not surprisingly, each family attempts to overshadow those that have come before them, so each ball is larger and more lavish than the previous one. THE LOWER WARD:
THE CHANT:
If there's a ruling power in the Lower Ward, it's the chant. Rumors fly fast-even by Cager standards. What makes gossip so powerful here is the fact that in a place like the Lower Ward, where a body makes his Jiving by the skill of his hands and toil of his back, reputation is very important. If folks think badly of a cutter's work, he's in a world of trouble, because that's all he's got. He is his work. Speak badly of either his character or his skill-it's the same thing. While keeping a hasher's reputation on the top shelf is important, keeping lanned to the chant on everyone else is just as important. A body does business with those he can trust-in or out of the Lower Ward. This makes a chantmonger's job even more important in this ward than elsewhere. People gladly pay for the latest news. A chant-monger's got to stay on his feet, though. Folks won't give good jink to hear what the washwoman on the comer will tell them for free. Occasionally, information brokers down on their luck take to giving out screed as true chant, just to keep the jink flowing. They always find their reward on the leafless tree quicker than most folks'd think. THE GREAT FOUNDRY:
The Great Foundry and the area surrounding it probably exemplifies the Lower Ward in most hasher's minds. Here, the air is thick with fumes and smoke and the streets, buildings, and even the people are covered in soot, sweat, and grime. It is a place of real work. The Foundry itself is surrounded by an entire district that bears its name. The narrow, twisting, cobbled streets of this area provide homes for smaller forges and smithies, as well as support facilities, shops, and services for the folks who work and Jive here. A body won't find anything fancy, just simple, well-made staples and such to fill the basic needs. And there're plenty of taverns on Alehouse Row to quench the thirsts of the hard-working souls of the district. 'Course, since the Great Foundry provides the Believers of the Source with their factional headquarters, the place isn't without its intrigues and conflicts. At least three different times in the last two years, someone has managed to sabotage the works in the Foundry itself. This was accomplished in such a way that workers were killed or injured and production ground to a halt. Other factions, particularly the Dustmen and the Bleakers, were blamed but nothing could be proven. Some folks looked with a peery eye at the Anarchists as well. Because of these mysterious attacks, security is high. Watchful guards keep visitors out and glance suspiciously even at the workmen themselves. The Godsmen high-ups tried to quell paranoia by reminding the faction members that this sort of thing is just part of the grand scheme, further honing each of them to perfection. While this tactic achieved some success, the high-ups also managed to attract a few peery eyes themselves. Delegates and representatives from other factions and groups look clearly out of place coming to the Great Foundry-unless they've the brains to dress down a bit. The spies always know how to dress properly, but the smart spies strive for other assignments since infiltrating the Great Foundry usually involves a lot of hard labour as part of the cover. With the heightened security, the spies' jobs have become more difficult and the risks they take much greater. The Godsmen in the Great Foundry and the people of the Foundry District maintain a narrow outlook on life. They eat, sleep, and breathe craftwork and the products thereof (in some ways, very literally). Two types of bashers Jive in the Foundry District: the workmen and the artisans. Now, while many'd say the workmen are indeed artists themselves, they gladly distinguish themselves from the artisans. The majority of workmen portray themselves as hardworking, straightforward cutters who value difficult labour, skilled work, and honesty. Mostly, the artisans are a secretive lot who spend their time studying (and hoarding) arcane and obscure crafting skills. They keep to themselves out of paranoia as well as arrogance. They produce some of the finest crafted goods a body's ever likely to lay eyes on, though. THE SHATTERED TEMPLE:
This area of the Lower Ward is quiet, serene, and-according to some visitors-a little spooky. The remnants of a once gigantic temple dominate the district. This Shattered Temple, the headquarters of the Athar faction, is surrounded mostly by other ruins, although a few homes and a random shop or tavern stand in its shadows. Once a body stands a stone's throw away, the tightly packed edifices normal to a Sigil street resume. A careful eye notices that blocks and beams from the old temple went to raising the walls of a number of these buildings. This area has now and again found itself haunted by spirits of the angry dead. Ghosts and hauntings rarely pose a problem in Sigil and on the Outer Planes, but here, long-dead memories of the past remain strong enough to conjure up poltergeists, apparitions, and other spectral vapours. These forces cause fear among the residents and sometimes real damage to local buildings. 'Course, the Athar won't let an outside priest near the area to exorcise the spooks. Their own priests of the Great Unknown can handle it just fine, they say. THE GARIANIS FAMILY:
In the Lower Ward's Central District, which stretches from the Mortuary (in the Hive) and New Market and down to Gear Run (almost to the Shattered Temple District, but not quite-which means it's not so central), the Garianis family holds sway. Now, these folks aren't golden lords like those found in The Lady's Ward, and they're not entirely a real family like some king and queen with their royal brood. Instead, they're a group of folks organized by their families under the actual Garianis clan to watch over the folks of the Central District and their interests. In exchange, the people give them money. Are they criminals? In the eyes of the Harmonium and the Guvners, yes. In the eyes of the folks of the Lower Ward, no. In fact, those they protect see them as heroes. Most gladly "donate" the protection money. The Garianis family owns a number of taverns and businesses in their district outright. Starting another business, or even patronizing a direct competitor, in their area isn't a good idea. The family is powerful, pervasive, and, well...vindictive. Don't cross them, though, and they can be protective, nurturing, generous, and even kind. Friar Muriov Garianis (Pl/ o human/P 12 [Hades]/Free League/LE) is the unchallenged leader of the family. As a young man, he left the family to work at a temple to Hades that revered the god's aspect as the power of wealth. He eventually abandoned that life and returned to his destiny. His numerous children all work in the family business in various ways. This powerful group has existed for many generations, its leadership passing down the ages through the most successful Garianis offspring. There's no love lost between the Garianis and the city's authorities. The family avoids them with a great deal of garnish (a tactic more successful than the high-ups of the Harmonium and the Fraternity of Order want anyone to know), a well-honed system of subterfuge, good representation in the City Court (the best that money can buy), and most important, the cooperation of the people in their district. When the Hardheads can scrag a family member and make the charges stick, the Guvners are usually particularly severe in assigning the punishment. Strangely enough, the family's belief in their own sort of justice makes the Mercykillers fairly sympathetic to their goals, and unlike their allies they don't condemn the Garianis. Additionally, the family's obtained clandestine support from both the Free League and the Revolutionary League, just because of their opposition to their mutual enemy, the Harmonium. OTHER NEIGHBORHOODS AND DISTRICTS:
Butted up against the Foundry District is Little Bytopia, a squat full of gnomes and like-minded bashers who do their honest day's work, collect their honest day's pay, and go home without bothering anybody. Folks here like things the way they are, so don't go stirring up trouble. They don't abide it. Gurincraag is a small neighbourhood near Little Bytopia, though the residents rarely mix. Gurincraag means "dwarven mountain" in some Prime dwarf tongue, and it's probably someone's idea of irony. Though populated mainly by dwarves, this neighbourhood reflects nothing of the grandeur of a dwarven mountain. The real dark, however, is that the squat is really a sort of "front," for the neighbourhood extends down into Undersigil to caverns of surprising elegance and majesty. The dwarves don't show their true dwellings to just anyone, though, and newcomers (even dwarf newcomers) see only the simple houses above the street level. The unpopular neighbourhood of Hellgate is situated around three neighbouring portals to Baator. Chant has it that a single baatezu controls this neighbourhood (a pit fiend whose name is said to be Mirshaz, though others claim it to be Fesneur). More likely, Hellgate holds a number of camps and strings of alliances all vying for power. The baatezu (and the mortals who like to live near them) can't ever seem to curb their love for politics and power struggles. It's worth noting as well that more than one baatezu expert has expressed serious doubt that any pit fiends have taken up permanent residence in the Cage. Situated not far from Hellgate but closer to the Great Foundry and the Shattered Temple is Gear Street, a modron squat. This incongruous slice of Mechanus right in the middle of the Cage catches some berks off guard, with modrons tottering from case to case, thicker than any other kind of folk. It's a welcome neighbourhood, though, for in it a body can find all sorts of clockwork do-dads and well-made mechanisms. Better yet, while the modrons won't be cheated or haggled, they won't bob a basher, either. They've got their own security here, making it a safe little spot. Those with chaotic outlooks should plan on avoiding the area, though-they just won't fit in (and not fitting in is a crime to a modron...). SOME HISTORY:
Chant has it that long ago, the Lower Ward was called the Prime Ward. Newcomers settled here. That is, such folks were actually herded here by the Sodkillers or the Incanterium, then-extant factions that didn't want primes wandering around the city and getting in the way of their business. The Clueless lived here, at least until they figured out how to survive in the rest of the burg-which means of course that they weren't clueless any more. At that time, the ward took up about half of the area the Lower Ward does now, and a good' deal of the area that currently comprises the Hive Ward. Well, the restrictions placed upon the inhabitants of the Prime Ward caused what's now remembered as the Clueless Rebellion. While the name's got a humorous ring to it, there was nothing funny about what happened. See, the inhabitants of the ward discovered that the ward's doorways and arches had a proclivity toward portals leading to the Lower Planes. In defiance, the Clueless began activating these portals as often as possible, letting whatever they could into the Cage. Intelligent fiends knew better than to cause a lot of trouble in Sigil, but the Clueless also let in vast numbers of mindless monsters (and a lot of dangerous fumes and ill climatic effects). Beasts and horrors from the dark planes ravaged the Prime Ward and the surrounding wards until (it's said) the Lady herself took action. Many of the monsters disappeared, presumably into the Mazes but perhaps just back to the Lower Planes. The dabus did what they could to reverse the most terrible of the conditions, but much of the fumes and gloom remain today. The rebellious offenders were punished (got lost), but the restriction on Clueless movement through the city was lifted. The preponderance of lower-planar gates caused the area to become known as the Lower Ward. Initially all but abandoned after the Clueless Rebellion, the area was slow to recover as folks gradually moved back to the area. When the Great Foundry was built in the centre of the ward, it reinvigorated the area and encouraged bashers willing to put up with the conditions to set up their cases and their businesses here. 'Course, a few leatherheads out there still believe the Shadow-Sorcelled Key lies hidden somewhere in what was once the Prime Ward. This gate key, the stories go, was instrumental in the rebellion. Somehow, it can supposedly open all of the lower-planar portals in the ward at the same time. A frightening prospect, but probably just so much screed. Still.... LIVING IN THE LOWER WARD:
Well, by most standards, life isn't great in the Lower Ward, but there are certainly a lot of worse places in the multiverse- and a good many of them are right here in Sigil. The inhabitants persevere through hardship and overcome the harsh conditions of their home with dignity and sometimes even good-natured attitudes. Once a body's gotten used to the fumes and the stench produced by the forges, the portals to the Lower Planes, and who-knows-what-else, things don't seem so bad. When the air clears a bit, the streets are frequented by numerous people going to and from their jobs or on the various tasks that make up an urban life. A washwoman might have a few moments to stop and wigwag about the latest chant with her neighbours, and a vendor might stroll by selling some dry, crusty bread (kept in a covered basket to keep the soot and grime off), but most folks are on their way to or from somewhere. The natural gathering places are the taverns and eateries where a body can rest a bit and cool her hot, soot-filled throat with something wet and cold. Though sometimes rough and rarely pretty to look at, these Lower Ward establishments are filled with music, laughter, and up-front, matter-of-fact talk. Even in their homes, the inhabitants of this ward make meal- and rest-time a communal, open affair. Many times, multiple families share meals. The food they eat is rarely fancy, but it's usually hardy, filling, and well prepared. Most folks know a few tricks to keeping the harsh smells and filth from creeping inside, making their homes fairly pleasant, if simple and a little stark. "Just because we live in filth don't mean we have to act like it," Lower Ward mothers tell their children. A body's more likely to receive a fair deal here than in The Lady's Ward, the Market Ward, or the Hive. Since cutters live on their reputations, they're apt to deal straight so that others will do so with them. 'Course, if this all seems a little too rosy a picture of a place known for its nasty air and portals to the Nether Planes, a body can always look at neighbourhoods like Hellgate or some of the seedier, darker places in the ward-the Styx Oarsman, the Tenth Pit, the White Casket, and the like. The influence of the Lower Planes is difficult to overcome. THE CLERK'S WARD:
THREE HALLS:
The Hall of Speakers, the Hall of Records, and the Hall of Information constitute the main bastions of bureaucracy in the Clerk's Ward. Spaced evenly on the white granite-paved Rook Street, these three complexes are the backbone of Sigil's day-to-day government. A surrounding region of appropriate shops, services, taverns, and inns surrounds each of these Halls. For example, the area around the Hall of Information boasts some of the best bookshops in the Cage. Cutters interested in history, particularly the city's history, should definitely pay this district a visit. The Hall of Speakers has fine inns for visiting dignitaries and important bloods who wish to speak before the Council. Scribes and criers can also be found in abundance on the surrounding streets. The Hall of Records supports a number of busy clerks and accountants in the nearby businesses. THE ADMINISTRATORS' AND WORKERS' DISTRICTS:
Living conditions vary considerably between these two major districts in the Clerk's Ward. While the Administrators' District has many luxuries, the Workers' District provides few amenities. Both, however, maintain a clean yet drab appearance. The differences are much more evident to those folks living here, as opposed to visitors. In the Workers' District, there's said to be a group of young dissidents plotting an uprising against the authorities of the ward. Rumors abound that the Revolutionary League supports these young firebrands, but this is untrue. In fact, the Doomguard backs them in their plots and efforts. This faction wants to see the Clerk's Ward brought down in flames, for they hate its pristine order. The dissidents themselves want to create an egalitarian government that maintains equal treatment for all citizens. They consider violence to be an acceptable means to achieve this goal. Although they've taken no action as yet, their plans are wide reaching and incredibly destructive (probably due to the Doomguard influence). THE FESTHALL DISTRICT:
A body doesn't have to be a Sensate to appreciate the striking difference between the Festhall District and the rest of the Clerk's Ward. Among the bright colours and wild music of the Civic Festhall, cutters find members of the Society of Sensation attempting to gamer as many experiences as they can. The Hardhead guards patrol this area heavily, watching closely for any Sensate activities that might get out of hand and overly disturb or endanger the tranquillity of the Clerk's Ward and its people. Fact is, the Harmonium's attempting to use legal channels to convince the Sensates to move the Civic Festhall to another ward-like perhaps the Hive. They claim that the Festhall so clearly fails to fit in with the rest of the ward that it should be relocated. Little chance exists for Hardhead success in this matter. The Society of Sensation points out that the presence of the Hall of Speakers often creates and encourages as much of a disturbance as the Civic Festhall. Protests, debates, and arguments frequently spill into the surrounding streets (some start out there and never even reach the actual Hall). LITTLE ARCADIA:
Although the Harmonium maintains its strength in The Lady's Ward, a good many of its members live in a small neighbourhood that folks have taken to calling Little Arcadia. The inhabitants make this a safe, if slightly bland, place to live. Armed militia, high walls, and strict local laws (like harsh curfews) help to protect and regulate the area. Unfortunately, they also keep out what the locals call "undesirables," which amounts to some hefty discrimination and prejudice. Still, the streets are quiet and peaceful, the buildings are clean and pleasant looking (again, one might be tempted to use the word "bland"), and there's little for a body to fear-assuming the residents let him in. If a berk's wandering the Cage looking to see celestials (the ones that every tout tells a body are in taverns drinking with fiends aren't as easy to come upon as the touts claim, in reality), Little Arcadia's not a bad place to try. Aasimon who come to the City of Doors with intentions of staying awhile often look for some little piece of home, and few places in the Cage remind a body of the Upper Planes. Devas, guardinals, agathion, and others can be seen mixing freely with the locals, though many tend to keep to a spot called the Silver Spire, a tower used as a meeting place and inn for celestials. Nobody really knows what goes on inside, because (as one disgruntled bariaur who was turned away put it) "if ya ain't got a pair o' feathered wings on your back, don't come knockin'." Only celestial beings can enter. Apparently, even most aasimar are politely turned away at the gate. One more thing a bright basher will note about Little Arcadia: It's not a safe case for tieflings and full-blooded fiends. Those who somehow find their way into this neighbourhood for more than a brief visit never come back out. Fiends and tieflings usually just disappear, never to be seen again. Chant is a rogue asuras with a powerfully enchanted magical spear murders any creature with lower-planar origins. 'Course, it's not as if any blood in Little Arcadia's trying too hard to catch him... THE SANDSTONE DISTRICT:
The Sandstone District stands in sharp contrast to Little Arcadia, for it provides a home for many tieflings and even a few true fiends. Where Little Arcadia is restrictive, the Sandstone District is open and free in regard to who can live here. 'Course, this also means that a few knights of the post and less desirable types call kip here as well. In particular, a wizard called Tyrashyk of the Broken Wand (Pl/ o human/M 13/Fated/NE) lives in the district. He's rumoured to capture sods in the umbra of night to sacrifice to some dark god of magic. Though Harmonium patrols only rarely wander into this area, the Hardheads have tried more than once to catch the spellslinger on his nefarious errands in the dim hours, but to no avail. Tyrashyk denies the chant, of course, and nobody can prove him wrong. There's also a tiefling soothsayer named Chumbrai (Pl/known throughout the neighbourhood, the ward, and even all of Sigil as a particularly canny source of clairvoyant information. Chant is, some of the city's high-ups (administrators, crime bosses, golden lords, and even factois). come to ask Chumbrai questions about the ultimate dark: the future. DAUGHTERS OF THE LIGHT:
The Daughters of the Light is a loose confederation of people unified with a single cause. Now, it might sound that the group qualifies as a sect or a faction wanna-be, but that ain't the case. The Daughters of the Light exists only to put an end to the Revolutionary League. This pan-factional group has no official endorsement from any faction-it supports itself. Why the Anarchists? Well, the Daughters of the Light's own literature goes something like this: "Deep in the shadows, a group of evil conspirators lurks, plotting to overthrow your way of life, your governments and organizations, your family. These fiends lie, cheat, steal, and even murder to reach their goal, and that goal consists of nothing less than the complete subversion of all you hold dear. This group of criminals has a name: the Revolutionary League. "They infiltrate groups, governments, and even families. They manipulate events through guile and subterfuge. Their agents are everywhere but never visible. The Revolutionary League is powerful, their tentacles reaching everywhere. Their agents are canny and cunning, yet subversive. Many of the leaders that you trust, the friends and co-workers that you associate with, and even the family members that you love are Revolutionary League agents. "These self-proclaimed Anarchists preach freedom but want only destruction and the dissolution of society. Those among you who value your homes, your families, and your way of life will help us oppose these lying, thieving murderers at all costs. If they win, we all lose." This organization was created to increase awareness of the Anarchists' activities with the hope that the "light of truth" would expose and dispel their shadowy operations. They also raise money by collecting from concerned (often terrified) donors. This money goes toward printing more anti-League pamphlets. It also supports the reporting service. Concerned Cagers who suspect Anarchist activities are instructed by the Daughter's literature to report to them. The Daughters of the Light then investigates the report more closely, eventually turning over any leads and evidence to the Harmonium, the Fraternity of Order, and the Mercykillers (chant has it that they actually tum over this information to all of the factions, just to be safe). The Daughters of the Light is based in the Clerk's Ward and uses an old butcher shop as its headquarters. Don't be fooled by the name-members of both sexes are involved, although the group was started by a small group of concerned mothers. While still small in size, the organization has managed to stir up a lot of paranoia, distrust, and outright fear in Sigil. While most folks had heard of the Revolutionary League before the Daughters came along, they'd never had the Anarchist's bad qualities laid bare before them. 'Course, not everything that the Daughters of the Light claims about the faction is true... A body still might be asking herself, why the Anarchists? Couldn't a group have started up with an anti-Signer outlook, or to oppose the Guvners, or any of the other factions? Despite the fact that the Daughters claim no faction relationship (many of the members belong to factions, but none are above the namer rank), the answer is "yes." The Daughters don't look at the Revolutionary League as a faction to be ranked among the others but rather as an evil group of subversive agents and destructive murderers. Nevertheless, some of the other factions are frightened rather than heartened by its success. If the Daughters of the Light ultimately proves successful, other faction members wonder, what will stop it or some new group from turning on us? It's also rumoured that the Daughters of the Light exists as an Anarchist front spreading misinformation and false leads (as well as stirring up general interest about the faction). Such is the nature of conspiracy theories; once a body begins to lose his trust, he soon finds that he can't even trust those who convinced him to lose his trust in the first place. LIVING IN THE CLERK'S WARD:
Quality of life in the Clerk's Ward depends greatly on who a body is and where exactly she lives. Administrators in the Halls of Records and Information, officials from the Hall of Speakers, and high-ranking employees or business owners in the rest of the ward live very well. The lowly clerks, scribes, and other simple folk live no better than folks in the Hive although the Clerk's Ward is quite a bit safer. Folks here mind their own business and prefer not to get involved. Helping some berk, or even talking to him, will probably just lead to more work, or worse yet, the attentions of the high-ups. "Leave well enough alone, it's not my problem," crosses through these folks' brain-boxes almost continually. In general, the Clerk's Ward is not the place to come looking for a good meal and fine entertainment. (The Festhall District ranks highly in both areas, though.) This is a quiet, drab ward for quiet, drab people. But maybe because of the lack of the other two luxuries, maybe because of some of the other aspects of the ward, a body will find plenty of good bub here... THE GUILDHALL WARD:
GYMNASIUM DISTRICT:
Not surprisingly, Ciphers constitute most of the population in this area. Most members of the faction live very close to their headquarters-and who can blame them, since they have free access to the luxuries of the Great Gymnasium! Surrounding this elegant structure are businesses that cater to the factioneers and others who come to relax or work out in the Gymnasium. Beyond that stretches a mainly residential area. It's generally an active, pleasant neighbourhood. 'Course, the members of the Transcendent Order aren't without their problems. The latest chant reveals the existence of a murderer or group of murderers that preys only on Ciphers. It's taken the Harmonium awhile to come to that conclusion, but they're sure of it now. (The investigative arm of the Hardhead faction isn't their strongest one, and-in their defence-it's difficult to investigate a crime where the only similarity is the personal philosophy of the victims.) Because of this, the Transcendent Order has its own (illegal) patrols watching the district. Since the Ciphers tend toward jumping to conclusions and going on gut instinct rather than investigating clues or questioning suspects, these patrols have created a great deal of conflict on the streets of the Gymnasium district. Wrongful "arrests" and misguided vigilante attacks are commonplace now, and the real authorities don't have the manpower to stop them. Worse, the murders continue. All concerned assume that more than one killer is involved since the methods and style of the murders vary so widely. Some folks theorize that the murderers use spells, while others claim that the killers have natural magical powers, like fiends or celestials. Still others say that the victims themselves are part of a spell, unwilling participants in some foul ritual or sacrifice to an evil god. OTHER AREAS:
In at least one respect, the Guildhall Ward is less cosmopolitan than the other wards of Sigil. A number of neighbourhoods are devoted to members of one particular race or background. There is no "official ordinance" requiring this segregation. Rather, it arose from folks wanting familiar faces and familiar surroundings in the unfamiliar maze that is the City of Doors. One of the larger racial neighbourhoods (or "squats") is the githyanki community known as Git'riban, or sometimes Githariban. The architecture here is distinctly githyankithat is, baroque and ornate. Some folks are surprised by the number of githyanki in the Cage. Most figure that the bashers stick to the Astral, especially when there're so many githzerai about ready to put them in the dead-book. Well, while there're frequent skirmishes here and in the githzerai Hive neighbourhood of Darkwell Court, and the githyanki really have to watch their step and move about the City of Doors in numbers, the chant is that most of those found in Git'riban are actually rogues who've fled the Astral, never to return. These outcasts and pariahs aren't talking when it comes to the whys and wherefores of their exile, but plenty of berks like to guess. The elf community of Sigil lives in an area without a real name, although some leatherheads laughingly refer to it as the Forest. See, the elves who choose to live in the Cage aren't like most elves. Most of those folks could never stand to be cooped up in a grimy, dreary, lifeless city like Sigil. Those who can don't notice the conditions. Thus, their neighbourhood is indistinguishable from any other part of Sigil, except that it's full of elves. It's a small squat-a street really, called Ritman Street by some, Long Lane by others. The squat of Ghundarhavel-a neighbourhood inhabited almost entirely by bariaur-is known to the locals by its real name (which means "home without grass" in their native tongue). Those who don't live here call it Hoof Park. This little community's taverns and eateries cater to bariaur tastes and accommodations. Shops carry bariaur clothing, armor, shoes, grooming tools, and other unique items. It's a pleasant enough place (as Cager neighbourhoods go), but the inhabitants are surprisingly unwelcoming to those of other races. Bordering Ghundarhavel near the Clerk's Ward lies a squat called Curly-Foot. Curly-Foot provides a home away from home to a fair number of halflings. While most halflings have a surprising adaptability (not unlike humans), they still prefer to live in familiar territory. Talun Underfoot (Pr/ o halfling/F3/Transcendent Order/NG), a wealthy halfling from a world called Oerth, had a few tons of real Oerthian soil brought in (at tremendous expense), complete with sod. He then commissioned an actual burrow to be built (dug?) for him in the artificial hill that was created. It stands in the centre of Curly-Foot. A few years back, a tout new to the business sent a group of Clueless halflings to find a case in Curly-Foot. Unfortunately, these halflings were from a prime world called Athas. When the halflings from Athas attempted to eat the residents of Curly-Foot, it took virtually every local warrior to expel them from the neighbourhood. GUILDHALL WARD HISTORY:
The Guildhall Ward once held the reigns of power in the Cage. While it still retains some vitality and importance (that is to say, it's not the slum that the Hive is}, it has long since lost its grand qualities. In days so long ago that most books don't even mention them, centuries before the Great Upheaval, the guilds of Sigil were powerful cabals of well-organized men and women. Back then, the numerous and splintered factions constantly and openly fought with each other, often resulting in warfare and chaos on the streets. In these dangerous days, the guilds were bastions of order, safety, and peace. A basher not part of the constant factional conflicts found protection and stability with the guilds. Some of the more powerful guilds included the Stoneworkers, the Freemen (carpenters, masons, and roofers), the Leatherworkers, the Alchemists, and the Planewalkers. The Planewalkers were a guild of mercenaries willing to travel anywhere for the right price. (The guild's name became the name for all types of planar adventurers over time.) After the Great Upheaval, when the factions were stabilized by edict of the Lady, the guilds fell on hard times. The people of Sigil clung to one faction or another, and the consolidated, more-powerful-than-ever factions saw the guilds as unnecessary threats. Many of the new or newly, organized factions forbade their members to hold guild membership. Most of the major guilds fell apart soon after, leaving only a few of the more "innocuous" ones-the Innkeepers, the Touts, and so on. The Alchemist guild went into hiding, and the Planewalker's Guild left Sigil and relocated to Ysgard, on the Infinite Staircase. Most say that they disbanded soon afterward. The Secret Society of Alchemy still exists today, and although the factions hardly notice the guilds anymore, it still chooses to remain hidden. These bashers maintain their expertise in magical study, herbology, and magical item construction. Some of them are wizards, while others are merely learned scholars. Although most folks don't even know that they exist, chant is that the Alchemists dabble in forbidden and dark magic, keeping obscure secrets and long forgotten rituals that produce spells unlike any cast by contemporary wizards. LIVING IN THE GUILDHALL WARD:
The Guildhall Ward possesses less of a unique atmosphere all its own than the other wards of Sigil. It's a mishmash of cultures and races, each attempting to keep its own identity. Somehow, it all fits together without creating the chaos and disorder of the Hive. The Guildhall Ward celebrates a holiday four times each year called Harmony. This huge festival's origins and even meaning have been lost in the mists of time, but the residents of the ward continue to celebrate it with great enthusiasm. Parties, parades, and revelries occur over a three-day period at the end of each third month. At night, bashers throw colored powders into torches and lamps, causing them to bum with red, green, or blue flames. The number of lights causes the Guildhall Ward to shine more brightly than any other place in the Cage at that time. Folks from all over Sigil come to celebrate the parties of Harmony, which means authorities and cross-traders both are out in full force. THE MARKET WARD:
FOOD AND DRINK:
Most of the food that Cagers eat comes through the Market Ward at some point. Even if a cutter doesn't buy his food there, chances are that the local vendor in his ward or the restaurateur that he bought the food from dealt with a Market Ward vendor. Almost any sort of foodstuff can be found here, but the really rare comestibles are sold first-come, first-serve (usually at a high price) and only when available (in season). A few examples of the more interesting kinds of food and drink are presented below. Arborean wine: This extremely expensive wine (130 gp per bottle from most sources) is made from giant grapes that grow on the plane for which it's named. Actual giants pick and crush the grapes, thus raising the price. For those unaccustomed to its potency, this wine intoxicates anyone drinking it twice as quickly and as completely as most other wines. Bytopian cheese: This cheese comes in three types, blue, red, and white. Made from goat's milk, these unique cheeses have a flavour unlike any other. Each costs about 1 gp per pound, with the price of the blue cheese often exceeding twice that during the night (at night, the blue cheese glows in the dark and gains a much tangier, spicier flavour). Fire fruit: Shipped directly from the Elemental Plane of Fire, these delicacies bum with a soft flame while fresh. If a body douses the flame only right before eating, their taste exceeds virtually any other fruit. Left extinguished, they spoil in just a few minutes. Vendors keep them in special containers and serve them with tongs. They're tempting, but beware-this fruit is utterly deadly to all but the most fire resistant beings. Each costs 2 sp. CLOTHING:
Everybody needs clothing-the Harmonium's pushed laws through the Council of Speakers requiring it, in fact. The Market Ward features shop after shop with clothing and cloth, as well as leather goods, furs, shoes, hats, jewelry, and miscellaneous accessories. Chillfoot boots: Developed by a halfling cobbler right here in Sigil, these useful leather boots seem useless-even detrimental- on first glance. Somehow, they harbor an unnatural cold conjured from some icy waste. Basically, any berk who puts them on gets very cold feet. The boots are too uncomfortable to wear for much longer than half an hour normally. However, if worn in areas of great heat, that same berk can walk over red-hot surfaces and even through flames without any harm coming to him-or at least to his feet. While the wearer's not fireproof by any means, he can safely resist any damage normally incurred by touching hot surfaces with his feet (such as in Khalas on Gehenna). These boots cost 130 gp or more (depending on where a body buys them). Fishskin suit: This suit stitched from ichythian hides allows a cutter to swim through water smoothly and quickly. It comes complete with webbed gloves and fins for the feet, increasing a body's swimming speed by 500/o. A tailor-made suit with accessories costs 225 gp. Living cloak: Chant is, this thing comes from the Prime somewhere. While it looks like a normal, thick fur cloak, it's actually alive. When worn, the cloak clutches tightly (not painfully or restrictively) around the wearer. Coupled with the "creature's" own body heat, this cloak is about the warmest piece of clothing in the multiverse-at least, that's what the vendors say. They charge 60 gp for the cloaks, and only a few merchants in the ward know where to procure them. Solanian shoes: On Solania (a layer of Mount Celestia), these climbers' shoes allow a blood to scale even vertical inclines safely and without fear. Elsewhere in the multiverse they aid a climber by adding 50/o to his chance to scale any surface. Market Ward vendors won't let these useful items go for less than 300 gp. Zadisband: This simple novelty item looks like a regular leather headband or armband, but it has a unique feature: It continually hums a soft, melodic tune. While most bashers grow tired of the humming eventually, they make wonderful- if often-recycled-gifts. Each costs 8 sp. EQUIPMENT:
Often, planewalkers make the Cage their base of operations. To do their jobs (which can vary greatly), planewalkers need equipment. Beyond all the normal things that adventurers need, Sigil's Market Ward offers the following rarer items (in addition to many, many others). Bytopian bottle: By utilizing some law of nature on the plane of Bytopia, the gnomes who live there are able to make bottles that can store two different liquids without the liquids ever mixing. They come in all shapes and sizes but generally cost around 15 gp. They are widely available. Celestian rope: The spiders found on Mount Celestia are metallic things of gold and silver (and can themselves be purchased for 2 gp each in the Market Ward). They spin a gossamer silk that's virtually transparent and very strong. This silk has a variety of uses, one of which is to make strong and lightweight rope. Vendors usually charge about 1 gp per foot for this rope, which has the strength of a normal chain and is almost invisible. Clearsteel shield: Clear steel is a mineral found only on Acheron. There, they use it to make (what else?) weapons and armour. While the weapons are simply novelties, many a blood has seen the practical need for a transparent shield. These shields are available from many armorers in the Cage and cost twice as much as shields made from more common metals. Hiter chain: Lengths of chain from the Baatorian city of Jangling Hiter are the finest in the multiverse, bar none. Durable, rust-free, and lightweight, this chain puts others to shame. Each foot of chain costs 10 gp and weighs 1 pound. Mandorian stone: In the Grand Bazaar, careful shoppers can find a small cart owned by a short, stout woman named Finn. Finn sells polished stones of all types, a few made into pieces of jewellery or set into ornate boxes. She also sells something she calls Mandorian stones, although she won't reveal their source. These greyish-blue rocks come in one, two, and five pound sizes. When struck sharply, these stones become immovable in space, able to support up to 100 times their own weight. Striking them again negates the effect, in which case they seem like normal stones until struck again. There's a tea-house garden in the Guildhall Ward where the steps up to a secluded loft consist only of Mandorian stones. Canny bashers take soft, careful steps up those stairs. As a strange side effect, these stones give off an eerie moaning sound when wet. No one knows why. Voidmarks: Vendors selling these claim that they come from the plane of Vacuum-hence the name. However, more than one greybeard has taken the time to investigate and prove this to be false. Voidmarks come from the portion of the Outlands known as Tir na Og, where they just call them marker bits. These chalklike sticks can be used to make invisible marks on things. The marks made by the chalk can only be seen through special dark lenses or magical means that normally reveal invisible objects. Cross-trading bloods use voidmarks to indicate future targets to their comrades by surreptitiously marking their clothes. Shopkeepers use them to mark prices or secret notes on their merchandise. Planewalkers use them to mark paths through the wilderness, mazes, or whatnot. If a body buys a stick or two, he shouldn't forget to buy the lens to see them. A stick costs 8 sp, while the 3-inch by 3-inch handheld lens costs 5 gp (and it's not good for anything but seeing voidmarks). Water-torch: Using a process developed in Limbo by the githzerai, woodcrafters in Sigil have developed a way to treat wood so that it will bum even when wet. In fact, the wood bums even when submersed in water. Unfortunately, the treatment process requires some rare chemical mixtures and about six months, so each water-torch costs 8 gp. LIVING CREATURES:
In certain parts of the Market Ward, a body can't even hear her own bone-box rattle due to the screeching, braying, roaring, and chittering of the animals for sale. It might surprise some folks that a metropolitan city like the Cage offers a livestock area, but it's true. Merchants herd animals into the city through a portal, sell them, and then the new owner herds them right back out again through his own portal. Although prospective buyers can find virtually any kind of beast (even some rather deadly monsters) for sale in the Market Ward, those presented below are some of the more interesting specimens. Astral streaker: These birds hail from the Astral Plane. They're intelligent and have excellent homing instincts, making them wonderful messengers. Small bits of paper or cloth can be tied to their legs. If treated well, they become fiercely loyal. Each sells for about 3 gp-they're fairly common around Sigil. Trained ethyk: Dragged from its home on the plane of Bytopia, this lemurlike creature has the ability to alter the moods of other creatures. Unfortunately, an ethyk always alters it for the worse, making others more aggressive and contrary. In the wild, the ethyk uses this ability to encourage predators to become aggressive toward other prey, for the object of the ethyk's powers never directs its aggression toward the ethyk itself (handy, that). Some folks like to have these beasts around, for trained ethyks can be made to increase the aggression in others, directed away from both ethyk and master. In the debate-heated confines of the Hall of Speakers, for example, it's handy to deflect an opponent's ire at another-which is exactly why they're not allowed in that building... In any event, most trainers sell ethyks for around 150 gp. These beasts understand simple one-word commands but only accept them from someone that they've been around for at least a week. After a few months of additional training, they can be taught simple tasks such as retrieving small items, tying knots, warning of intruders, and so on. MISCELLANEOUS:
Jewellery? Yes sir. Transport? No problem. Musical instruments? Of course. The Market Ward can fill any need that a body has-no matter how varied or strange. Baatorian lute: First off, any leatherhead knows that the baatezu aren't known for their music. Nevertheless, an observant cutter found a box of interesting instruments called Baatorian lutes as she went through the cart of a peddler who'd gone to the dead-book. A member of the Fated, she was processing his belongings for tax purposes before the Dustmen carted it all away. In any event, it seems that these lutes were originally crafted by an erinyes (this determined through some careful research and a legend lore spell) and sold as extras. They have no special powers per se, but they produce sounds unlike any previously heard by mortal ears. The Fated sold the lutes to a merchant in the Grand Bazaar, so they are once again available to the public. The curiosity value has forced the price to rise considerably. No one will let one go for less than 450 gp. Githyanki jewelry: The githyanki produce gold and silver gem-studded jewellery of all sorts: necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and everything else. Not only are they ornate and wonderfully crafted, but they also possess an interesting property. Whenever the wearer's name is spoken within one mile, the jewellery tingles. Apparently, each piece is somehow psionically attuned so that it mentally "reads" the name of the wearer and then scans the surrounding area. While not terribly useful, this intriguing power jacks the price of the jewellery (usually worth from 500 to 5,000 gp for the material and craftsmanship alone) up 500 percent. Jandor's Music Boxes: Not a thing, really, but a place, Jandor's has a wide variety of musical boxes. These .~legant devices bear the precision of something from Mechanus and the beauty of an art object from Elysium. Each is diffe~nt, but all of them seem to be a steal at 80 gp. The thing is, nobody knows the dark of where they come from or who makes them-and Jandor (the owner) is keeping his bone box locked. The real dark? Jandor's a polymorphed nalfeshnee, and the boxes each contain the essence of a tanar'ri warrior ready to materialize and pounce when Jandor gives the word. The moral? Let the buyer beware. HIGH WEIRDNESS:
Sigil's the self-proclaimed center of the multiverse (what place ain't?). Because of its unique position and easy access to virtually everywhere else, a body exploring the Market Ward can stumble upon some very strange things. Some of this odd, miscellaneous stuff is magical, while some is just weird or rare. A few examples of such high weirdness are presented below. Clockwork pets: More than likely, these things originated on Mechanus or the gate-town of Automata. These iron contraptions are designed to resemble normal domesticated animals-dogs, cats, birds, and even fish. Clockwork pets function in every way that a normal trained animal would, except that they don't need to eat or sleep. None of them seem capable of combat, either. Most clockwork pets seem created for aesthetic value, as they are incredibly beautiful. Many produce wonderful music by "singing." Depending on the materials used in construction, clockwork pets cost anywhere from 1,000 to 8,000 gp. Favoured among the golden lords of Sigil, they're only obtained in an upscale clockmaker's shop called Divinities. Memory crystal: A vendor who worked out of Girreht's Jewekraft once sold these crystals. (At the time he said he was a friend of Girreht's, but now that he's gone the githzerai claims to have no memory of him.) He apparently had an entire box of them, but no one knows for sure if he managed to sell them all. These memory crystals are a little like thought recorders (see below), but instead of being able to store the image of a thought, the small, finger-sized crystals can store a memory. The memory is preserved in exact detail (and is completely accurate-it's what really happened, from the recorder's point of view) and can be "replayed" by anyone holding the crystal. The memory will never be more than ten minutes long, but once stored in a crystal, it lasts forever. A monastic deva visiting from Elysium reportedly rattled her bone-box about the crystals being from an order of psionicists sequestered deep within that plane. They call the crystals Fir-annads. Another source, however, claims that the crystals come from Pandemonium and are used by fiends THE GRAND BAZAAR FROM THE INDEP'S VIEW:
"Sure, the Grand Bazaar is a great place to pick up some trinkets, buy some food and bub, and try on a new hat. However, it's also the 'headquarters' of the Free League. How's that work? Not too well, if the Free League was an official sort of faction with offices, applications, and the rest of that screed. But we Indeps aren't like that, so it all works just fine." So says Kalo Seth, an outspoken Indep who works in the Grand Bazaar and loves it. Kalo's a successful artist who sketches caricatures of folks in the plaza of the Bazaar. His less-successful friend Jomatt isn't quite as enamoured of the place. "It'd be nice to have someplace to go to get away from the crowds, like the other factions," he says. Chesfur, a bariaur smith, adds, "Oh, I'm always telling Peeping Jomatt (that's what we call him around here) that he should just quit complaining. The Indeps aren't even a faction. If he wants some fancy headquarters and a bunch of berks behind desks telling him what to do, he should join the Guvners." "There's just no place else to be," Kalo states. "It's good for business and it's a good place to be free of the strictures of the rest of the Cage." LIVING IN THE MARKET WARD:
For the most part, only the folks who work in this ward choose to live here full time. Other cutters who come here to do business stay in the various inns on a temporary basis. The general feel here is one of self-sufficiency. "Watch your own back, berk," remains a commonly heard catchphrase. In the neighbourhoods of the rich merchant "kings," a body might think he was in The Lady's Ward. Walking down Copperman Way, a cutter sees well-kept and well-guarded manors, wide newly paved streets, and ample-bellied merchants riding in sedan chairs carried by muscular soldier slaves. Much of the rest of the ward, where the business is done, is a crowded cacophony of peddlers, hawkers, consumers, sightseers, and beggars, not to mention Hardhead patrols, entertainments that entice shoppers to come to one store or another, and the frequent arguments that break out when haggling escalates out of hand. And that doesn't even begin to include the livestock and other animals for sale, which are actually more pungent than loud. Yet folks in the Market Ward live as well as work here. Many shopkeepers live right in their stores (or above, or behind...) and peddlers and vendors live in tiny hovels set up close to the markets and bazaars. Although the Market Ward doesn't have several well defined districts like the other wards, the Warehouse District is a distinct area with rows upon rows of storehouses. Guards maintain a constant vigil, though (as usual) most are not immune to a little garnish. If anything rules the Market Ward, it's jink. Forget the Harmonium, the Council of Speakers, or even the Lady herself. Money is the real power here. Everything is for sale. Everything. Not just goods, but information, loyalty, justice, public opinion, reputation-even religion. If a body likes money, this is the place to be. Folks who don't twig to such level of commercialism should complete their business and move out fast. THE HIVE WARD:
THE DEAD DISTRICT:
It's no secret that the Dustmen run the Mortuary in the Hive. They're a fairly quiet faction, rarely causing trouble for others (though the chant says that they might have something to do with the problems the Gods men are having). The real dark is that they quietly run the entire Hive Ward. The Dead District (the area around the Mortuary) is probably the cleanest and safest place in the Hive. The streets have better lighting, and folks walk them with little fear. 'Course, it being next to their headquarters, it's not surprising that the district's thick with Dustmen. However, the poor sods who live here know that "the eyes of the Dead watch everything in the Hive." The Dustmen faction directly or indirectly controls much of what occurs in the ward. Some say that they even gain a percentage of all money made, legally or illegally, in the Hive. The dark grows deeper. The rumoured reason why they exert such control over the Hive, which they've actually done for centuries, is twofold. First, to raise funds to support a dire master plan. Facto! Skall, it is said, desires to convert everyone in the Cage over to his way of thinking by persuasion or by force. And the easiest way to convert sods by force is to put them in the dead-book itself. Second, if there's going to be a "mass conversion," his forces need a staging ground, and the Hive is conveniently free of most Harmonium patrols and nosy Fated tax collectors-even the dabus usually steer dear of the slum. The visible result of all this is that wise bloods living in the Hive quietly toss a little jink in the cart when the Dustmen corpse collectors come by. It's either that, or suddenly discover that there's room for one more on that cart tomorrow. The inhabitants of the Hive have all heard that a secret order of Dead assassins exists to punish those who won't cooperate with the faction or who actively counter their plans. No one seems to know anything more about these shadowy killers, however. THE CHAOS DISTRICT:
The Xaositects have their headquarters in the Hive, too. Do they know about the Dead's supposed plans? Maybe. Maybe not. Who can tell? And even if they did, would they care? The slum called the Hive, as opposed to the entire ward surrounding it, functions as the Xaositects' headquarters-as much as they have one. It's also known as the Chaos District. Visitors to this neighbourhood should be ready for anything. Anything. The Chaos District is a jumble of falling-down buildings, hastily raised hovels, and winding streets (some which go seemingly nowhere) filled with cacophonous sounds, smells, and sights. No one building serves the faction as a base. Rather, the Xaositects just hang out in the neighbourhood, so it's the place folks go if they want to find them. THE MADHOUSE DISTRICT:
Only the Bleakers seem to take any initiative to make the Hive a better place. The Bleak Cabal runs a number of soup kitchens and shelters for those who have nowhere else to go. Their headquarters, the Madhouse, takes in those barmies who just couldn't handle their lives any more. There's a certain appropriateness to the fact that in Sigil, when a body has sunk to the utter bottom and has no where else to tum, she can always look to the Madmen for solace. The district around the Madhouse is wide and open unlike most of the Hive. A body's likely to encounter a number of ragged urchins, crippled beggars, and wretchedly poor sods here, hoping to gamer help from the Bleakers. The screams and wails of madness from the Madhouse itself set the mood on edge in the district, but the barmies, at least, are all safe inside. Chant has it that the Bleakers built a number of underground entrances to the catacombs below the city. Some say that the Madhouse is full, and now they throw the inmates into the deep warrens below, while others say that the Bleakers have it in their heads that there's something important down there to find. Other versions of the chant say that it was the barmies inside who dug down and out, and now their keepers follow the madmen down there to bring them back. Whatever the case, rumours abound of search parties exploring the reaches under the Madhouse. THE DITCH:
The Ditch is a hideous trench ripped through Sigil like a giant scar, dividing the Hive from the Lower Ward. Some maps put the Ditch in the Lower Ward, but it really fits in the Hive-it's a water-filled gouge filled with trash, offal, and dead bodies. Certainly sounds like it belongs in the Hive. Despite the horrible and dogged waters, the Ditch holds a number of portals and thus many bashers use it as transport to other planes or gate-towns. Occasionally, a special portal to the River Oceanus opens to fill the Ditch and purge its foulness with pure, sparkling water. When this happens, folks on both sides drop whatever they're doing to bathe in and drink the refreshing water. A few berks claim that they've developed systems for predicting when this occurs, and one barmy's even sure enough of his formula to propose that a scheduled official holiday be declared so that people are ready for the deluge. The real dark is that the dabus have access to the Oceanus portal and its key. They purposely open the portal repeatedly, letting in the river's water. Their motives are beyond understanding, let alone prediction, so the berks with the systems are spouting screed. THE SLAGS:
The Slags are a small, isolated area of the Hive Ward that lies in ruin. Chant has it that a Blood War battle spilled over into Sigil once, and the devastation it caused resulted in the Slags. There're still quite a few fiends scattered throughout the area, so it's an easy story to believe-and some bashers claim that the portal which let the battle in is due to open up again. Soon. Many horrible tales come out of the Slags, but none is more frightening than that of the self-proclaimed King of the Slags. This being (reports conflict as to whether he is a nycaloth, a nalfeshnee, or an obese tiefling) reportedly demands tribute from anyone it comes upon as it wanders the Slags. The tribute is in the form of virtue-the King demands that its "subjects" perform some evil act for it. This could mean striking a friend, stealing food from the poor, maligning some good power, or even worse. The King of the Slags possesses a great deal of might to back up its demands, and it's also got a lot of evil thugs and minders that follow it in the shadows, ready to strike when it calls for them. Creatures not tolerated in other areas of Sigil call kip in the Slags. Monstrous humanoids most often found in Acheron-orcs, goblins, hobgoblins, and the like-live in nomadic camps that move around the ruined wasteland. A lower-planar native like a night hag, hordling, or gehrelfth is as likely to share the street with a body as a human or bariaur. Now, such creatures are occasionally found in other areas of Sigil, but in the Slags they act as if they own the place. It may be that they're no more common in the Slags than anywhere else, but the lack of normal or upstanding. folk in comparison makes it seem like there're more of 'em. OTHER AREAS:
Darkwell Court's ominous name serves to scare off cross traders and undesirables more than anything else. The neighbourhood's inhabitants, a large community of githzerai, live in the Hive because it's isolated, not because they're poor. The githzerai have made this area uniquely their own. Gone are the sweeping gables and iron spikes found on most Sigil buildings. Here, the walls are smooth, the roofs are flat (sloped a little so that water doesn't collect), and the architecture is plain. By some standards, the place is drab an unimaginative. By other standards-githzerai standards-it's a little slice of home. An ancient githzerai woman named Divin Anesh (Pl/~ githzerai/M 10/ Athar/LN) living in the Court's said to be the high-up. Apparently, nobody makes a move in the neighbourhood without her, and all githzerai in the city pay their respects to her (or at least they should). Surprisingly close to Darkwell Court is Khaasta Row. Creatively named, a number of khaasta have taken up residence on this short street. Since most folks don't twig to these lizard-men (some cutters have a problem with raiding and kidnapping), they hole up in this tiny slum and keep mostly to themselves. A bunch of primes from the world of Athas have settled a small section of the Hive that they call New Tyr. Most of these bashers possess rough qualities and excel in fighting and survival skills. Most don't like githzerai or githyanki, either, so canny members of either race stay far away. Refugees from a dying prime-material world called Ranais settled in the Lower Ward centuries ago, but the neighbourhood, called Goatswood, has since shifted into the Hive with the ever-changing borders and definitions of the two wards. These folks are fairly good natured as well as long-suffering, making the squat a friendly one-particularly by Hive standards. LIVING IN THE HIVE WARD:
Might makes right in the Hive. Personal power and toughness overshadow all else-politics, jink, information, or even belief. But like anything else, toughness- is a commodity. A basher can buy the right weapon, trade for the best spells, or hire out his trained sword-arm. Might is the currency that people trade in here-in fact, bloods looking for the best mercenaries or the strongest guards come to the Hive. With might comes two other important components to success in the Hive. A good head on a cutter's shoulders is one, and a good healthy dose of fear is the other. Nowhere in the Cage do the Clueless last a shorter length of time than here. Ironically, a lot of portals to the Prime Material Plane are located in these slums. Canny bashers learn quickly what's what and who's who in the Hive. This information is one of the keys for survival in Sigil's slum. But fear? Powerful bloods don't fear anything, right? Wrong. Folks who live in the Hive know that somewhere maybe just behind that crumbling wall over there-lurks something more powerful than them. Knowing where not to go, when to run, and who not to disturb may have been learned out fear, but most bloods maintain that such knowledge ranks right up there with knowing their own name in importance. The Hive weeds out traits like overconfidence and bluster through something akin to natural selection. Day-to-day life in the Hive remains rather dreary. Most of the sods living here spend their time simply trying to remain alive-looking for food, procuring jink, and fending off enemies. The lucky few hang on to their jobs as best they can, while the others operate as scavengers in an urban wilderness. Few bashers stop to wigwag on the street. No one looks for beauty or grandeur-luxury here is a full belly. The Hivers socialize behind dosed doors in dimly lit and poorly ventilated taverns where the bub is cheap and the mood is dark. Even the toughest bashers from outside the Hive find such places rough. The night's entertainment could proffer a fight to the death or merely some bawdy tales, but a body never knows. With the recent talk of a "babble fever," though, many Hive residents keep their distance from their fellows for fear of contagion. Babble fever is the name given by locals to a plague making its way through the Hive. Bashers say that the disease renders a sod into a blathering idiot who can't shut his bone-box before it sends him on a winding, painful path to the dead-book. It's not a good way to die by anyone's reckoning, even-it's said-by the Dustmen. The Hardheads patrol the Hive occasionally, but a body's actually more likely to find a group of Mercykillers hunting criminals here. "We see eye to eye with people in the Hive," one Red Death member relates, "because they understand that if you do wrong, you pay. No courts, no arguments, just punishment. Justice." Nevertheless, only a fool or a barmy would really expect justice in the Hive-even the Mercykiller patrols are rare. Survival of the fittest remains the closest thing to justice most folks see. So really, the cross-traders and other criminals have no fear of "getting scragged." In fact, in the Hive, most folks don't think in terms of criminals and laws. A body does what he needs to do in order to get by. Any hesitation comes from the thought of retribution from the berk he's bobbed, not the law that may catch up with him later. Still, joy is not unknown in the Hive, and neither is laughter. Cagers are a tough lot, and the Hivers are the toughest. UNDERSIGIL:
THE DABUS WARRENS:
When folks refer to the Dabus Warrens, they're talking about the mysterious places where the dabus go below Sigil's streets, not the tunnels they use to travel there. The distinction is important, because a body can walk down into the tunnels. They make up most of the known area down below. However, nobody follows the dabus into their own cases. Their little hidey-holes, cathedrals, plazas, or whatever they are remain inaccessible to nondabus-if they exist at all. Most people assume that the dabus live somewhere. They certainly vanish down into the tunnels once they're done with their work, and a body'd assume that means they're going home, or going back to their headquarters, or their base, or whatever it is that they have. And if they weren't going somewhere secret, why won't they let folks follow them? Of course, as always, folks have different theories. As said before, Cagers like talking about UnderSigil, so there's lots of chant (and screed) to be heard about it. Maybe the dabus disappear through hidden portals in the catacombs that lead to their secret, other planar homes. Maybe they protect their warrens with powerful magic so that only they can find their way. Maybe they go down into the catacombs to the hidden sanctuary of the Lady herself, and it's her will that keeps other berks out. It's all just speculation when it comes to the dark of these bashers. It's true though that explorers in the tunnels under the city often suddenly come upon a dabus on its way back up or as it comes down. Following always leads into the blinds, but it sure makes a body wonder. TRAVELING UNDERGROUND:
Now, why folks would want to go into the Realm Below is their problem. Some bashers like to poke around in strange places, while others might have a need forced upon them by circumstance (if a Mercykiller's quarry goes down below, then the cutter's probably going to follow). A hasher's first step to exploring the catacombs under Sigil entails figuring out how to get there. Fact is, it's not too difficult. There're more entrances than a body might think. The easiest entrance, although not the most pleasant, lies through the sewers. Explorers willing to wade through the muck and sewage don't have to wander too far (a few hours is usually enough) before they come upon a mysterious passage or even a door leading away from the drainage tunnels and into the labyrinths. These passages usually lead down pretty fast-a good indication that a body's entering the catacombs. RATS:
'Course, a cutter wandering around in the sewers has a good chance of running into other unpleasantness beyond just dirty water and filth. Like any sewer, Sigil's drainage system is a home for rats and other foul vermin. In the Cage, however, a pack of rats might be able to warp a sod's mind as easily as swarm over him with vicious little bites. That's because Cager rats sometimes tum out to be cranium rats, which are much, much more dangerous than normal rats (even the big ones that grow as large as dogs). Folks who've wandered through the sewers and through the labyrinths tell chilling tales of tiny underground kingdoms ruled by vast networks of cranium rats. No one knows much about them, but sometimes whispers circulate about four different groups of the creatures called the Four Great Minds. These groups war with each other and work at cross purposes, sometimes utilizing mind-shackled slaves to attack or thwart the others. Sewer rats in Sigil have big, bipedal cousins known as wererats. They also travel through the sewers, but they have their own warrenlike tunnels as well. (And here's a warning to those who might enter their kips-wererats love nasty, deadly little traps, usually involving terribly sharp spikes, blades, and poison.) Chant has it that most live in and around the Ditch (many tiny passages extend from the sides of the Ditch into the Realm Below) under the thumb of a shadow fiend named Tattershade. They can be found elsewhere, though, and are known to kidnap children and helpless sods, dragging them down below with hopes of ransom. If that doesn't work, the victim usually becomes a meal-so either way, the wererats win. DEAD AND DARKERS:
Slipping through an old crypt is another way into the labyrinths. To many, this path is even more distasteful than traveling into the sewers. Crypts aren't all that common in the Cage, since most folks don't bury their dead here. The Dustmen cart them away, or else the Dead take the dead through a portal and bury them someplace nice. Some people like to keep their dead nearby, though (who knows why?) and so they dig down below their cases and put them in shut-up rooms below the streets. Sometimes the diggers run into the catacombs already in place and a new connection is made. Sometimes, though, things in the catacombs dig their way up into the crypt. It's a little-known fact that ghouls live below the streets in certain wards (the Hive and the Lower Ward have the worst infestations). It's an even lesser-known fact that these ghouls aren't the undead kind. These poor, raving souls that look, smell, and fight like ghouls are really living sods who've developed a taste for corpse flesh. Ghouls aren't the only worry for a basher who defiles some deader's crypt. Lots of the places are cursed, sending tomb raiders (or just those passing through) to the deadbook in the most horrible manner. Peery berks put traps and wards on their tombs as well, and of course, some are said to be haunted by deaders who just don't want to leave. Lucky bloods find entrances to the labyrinths that aren't so dangerous. For example, the Twelve Factols, a tavern in The Lady's Ward, offers access to the catacombs. The Gurincraag neighborhood in the Lower Ward is rumouredto have numerous entrances to UnderSigil. Many ruined buildings, particularly those found in the Hive, act as fronts for entrances into the catacombs (like the Bones of the Night by the Ditch). Folks called darkers sometimes maintain these street-level egresses. Darkers live in the Realm Below by choice. Criminals, madmen, or just folks with nowhere else to live, these people have adapted completely to an underground lifestyle, coming up only at night to scavenge, steal, or sometimes just to spy on those living "the old way, tt as they put it. Some never come up, living out their entire lives belowground. Darkers hate intruders from above. Those with a criminal bent fear retribution from authorities. (In fact, their fears carry a certain amount of validity, since the Harmonium has been known to ruthlessly purge underground areas suspected of harbouring criminals.) Others just resent and fear folks who can live "up there." Their communities usually comprise only a few dozen souls, but some of the largest hold hundreds of individuals. Darkers keep their own mysterious sets of laws, codes, and manners, and have even developed their own cant. 'Course, even among these outcasts, there are outcasts-some of whom have become monsters that prey upon the darkers themselves. DUNGEONS AND...WELL, MONSTERS, ANYWAY:
The Realm Below essentially exists as a network of interconnected tunnels and chambers. Because Sigil ain't what a body might call "natural," there are no native caverns or anything like them. Everything was put there for a reason by somebody, although the reason and the somebody might both be long gone and completely forgotten. The upper levels include the sewers, crypts, and dungeons directly underneath the streets and buildings above. (Supposedly, a lot of the High Houses in The Lady's Ward harbour deep and extensive dungeons underneath them to hold prisoners, slaves, and Lady-knows-what-else.) The dabus tunnels, wererat passages, and narrow vermin warrens connect them all and extend downward. The darkers live in lower areas branching off from these passages, in tunnels of their own making or in old, forgotten avenues created for long-lost purposes. Would-be adventurers, treasure seekers, and monster slayers should keep in mind that hundreds of miles of underground tunnels (and connected chambers) fill the Realm Below, and most of them are empty. Those going down just to wander and see what there is to see quickly grow bored. Cutters are better off with a destination or a goal in mind. The tunnels usually don't grow much wider than 10 feet across, with much narrower passages found more often. There's never any light, ventilation is very bad, and unless a body's poking around the sewer or nearby passages, everything is very dry. The dust-choked air filling most tunnels decreases visibility, even for those who brought magical light-it makes for difficult breathing, too. Most folks find that down below they can only exert themselves to a degree about half of normal before they need to rest. Collapsing passages offer another danger. For whatever reason, Sigil's not always perfectly stable (greybeardsclaim it's got something to do with all the portals). "Cagequakes" occasionally shake things up on the street level. These events present a deadly threat to the catacomb dwellers. During a 'quake, falling debris inflicts 3d4 hp damage upon anyone in the affected underground area (saving throws versus breath weapon reduce damage by half, secure shelter reduces damage by half or to nothing with a successful saving throw). Thankfully, such events are rare and usually quite localized.
THE HIGH HOUSES:
The High Houses are the palaces and mansions of Sigil. These regal dwellings are surrounded by well-kept homes for serving staffs, fine (and expensive) shops and services, and elegant places to dine, drink, and be entertained. Want to part with a fortune? Spend a night in The Lady's Ward, as the saying goes. Sigil's rich-also known as the golden lords, the knights of the ward (referring to The Lady's Ward), and the keepers of the trust-live in utter opulence. Some would add "decadence" as well. Most of the Clueless can't even begin to grasp the wealth of these bloods. They can buy and sell entire cities or even kingdoms, although they rarely take part in anything so sordid. On prime worlds kings and emperors possess most of the wealth, but here in Sigil, folks have taken the fortunes of kings and used it to establish financial empires almost always built upon interplanar trading. (Mercenaries and planewalkers take note: Those berks who've turned down jobs escorting planar trading caravans or shipments because it was too "lowly" a duty have probably missed out on the chance to impress some real top-shelf bloods!) Most of the golden lords are so wealthy that they no longer play any part in their own financial empires. The wealth and influence is simply too great to be managed by one basher, so they employ an army of underlings to administer things for them. Many of these managers are fabulously rich merchants in their own right, and no one knows that they are only "middle management." Even the managers don't know that they work for the same lord. It's a conspiracy of wealth. The knights of the ward spend their time living the good life as only The Lady's Ward can provide. Most, however, are not content to simply enjoy the finest food, drink, entertainment, and luxury that the planes have to offer. Instead, they use their position to manipulate people and events to their benefit-not to gain more wealth (for their wealth is almost limitless), but to gain power. In Sigil, at the heart of it all, they attempt to pull the strings that control the multiverse. Some greybeards-the paranoid ones-say that if a body wants to see the cause behind anything that happens on the planes, he should look to the High Houses of The Lady's Ward. Now, that's taking things way too far. Most tanar'ri, for example, couldn't give a ratatosk's third toe for what some rich basher in the Cage thinks or wants. Planetars aren't impressed by wealth. Most slaadi, well, most slaadi'd probably say "where?" if Sigil was mentioned. 'Course, that doesn't mean that these groups can't be manipulated by master string-pullers like the golden lords of Sigil. Even the high-up baatezu admit to having a fair bit of respect for these canny manipulators. Many of those among the otherwise well landed Cagers don't know of the "wars" fought among the wealthy bloods of Sigil. That's because these silent wars of treachery, manipulation, deceit, and double-dealing don't often leak out into the Cage. The golden lords use their money and influence like weapons, smashing the plots of their enemies while advancing their own. If these silent wars sound similar to the endless struggles for control that the factions of Sigil fight all the time, it's no coincidence. Their goals frequently correspond, and the golden lords and the factions use each other for their own ends. Remember, many of the knights of the ward are also faction members- or fierce opponents. For example, the d'Arlen family, particularly its current master, Timmon (Pl/ o human/F6/N), has long strived to gain complete control of all of the touts in Sigil. Now, the obvious question would be, "why?" The answer is simple. The touts are often the first source of knowledge for the Clueless who come to town. Therefore, anyone who controls what the touts say, where they direct the newcomers, and what they don't say becomes an extremely powerful basher. It's a simple way to subtly control an entire segment of the population. And it's a segment that many overlook as insignificant, so there shouldn't be any opposition, right? Well, that's what the d'Arlens thought too. Chant has it that the Ciphers caught wind of what the d'Arlens were up to and immediately decided to stop them. Why? It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Cipher funds began pouring onto the streets of the Cage to buy off existing touts or to hire and train new ones. This jink was channelled through so many different sources (the resources of any faction are quite astounding) that the d'Arlens had no idea that their competition was an entire faction until literally years had passed. When Timmon d'Arlen took control of the family empire upon the death of his mother (the circumstances were not questionable-Timmon is very good at what he does), he tumbled to the fact that the Ciphers were vying for control of the city guides. Rather than concede to a superior force, Timmon directed his influence and considerable monies toward gaining the alliance of Facto! Emma Oakwright of the Fated. Once he had established a relationship with the Takers, he maneuverer them into investigating the fact that a great many touts-particularly those who had shown up during the recent increase in the ranks of that profession over the last few years-were woefully neglect in paying their taxes. Suddenly, the touts of the city, especially those in the pocket of the Ciphers, were hunted on the Cage's streets by the Fated with the muscular help of the Harmonium. (Many touts still refer to those few months as the "dark times.") Though the Transcendent Order was able to recover some of its losses by harbouring its touts (or simply paying their back taxes through circuitous jink-paths), the d'Arlens had won a significant victory in their silent war. This and many other wars go on even today, with new "battlefields," "weapons," "casualties," and "spoils." They may not seem like conventionally fought wars, but their outcomes are just as important and far-reaching. THE TEMPLES:
Also counted among the High Houses are the temples of The Lady's Ward, most of which are palaces in their own right. The temples found here are extravagant places dedicated to the most powerful or respected powers in the multiverse. A body might say that The Lady's Ward is built more on respect-sometimes begrudging respect-than on money or real power. Why build a temple to a power in a place where that power can't go? Why would anyone care in the Cage? It seems a simple question, but it's not. Even the cynicism and jadedness of the City of Doors can't completely drown out faith and devotion. True believers and followers worship their gods no matter where in the multiverse they go. That's understandable. But it doesn't completely explain the temples of Sigil-Cagers (those born and bred here) are an impious lot. That doesn't mean that the Athar have won their propaganda war; it just means that it's easy to get caught up in the daily grind in Sigil and forget about the gods. Worrying about keeping the authorities off a body's back and the barmies from his mind, keeping the faction high-ups happy and paying his taxes keeps a berk pretty busy. And all that doesn't even take into account a body's family, job concerns, and everything else that goes into making a life an interesting thing to live. Even those who take the time to think about the big picture are more likely to think about factional beliefs that try to explain the multiverse than about religion. No, the temples in Sigil are more about respect than devotion. A power's followers and proxies, if they've got enough clout, establish a temple in the City of Doors primarily as a statement about that god's power rather than providing a place for the local congregation to worship (although it serves that purpose too). The temples, especially those found in The Lady's Ward, stand as showy structures of grandiose presentation and awe-inspiring architecture. The priests of these temples hold their own sort of political power in the Cage, similar to (but not nearly the equal of) the golden lords. Many are proxies of the powers themselves, and the temples are their palatial homes as well as monuments in honour of the deity they represent. Intrigue plays a big part in the activities of the temples of this ward. Each schemes to become greater than the others. Even establishing a temple in The Lady's Ward is difficult, since every other temple there tries to stop it from happening. Garnish, favours, and flattery need to be spread thick and in the right places to be successful. Once established, various churches and temples wage wars of lies, deceit, politics, and even vandalism against each other. Holy relics are stolen or defaced, religious rituals are sabotaged, and parishioners are accosted or threatened. And don't be fooled into thinking that only temples dedicated to evil powers conduct themselves in this way. Neutral and even good priests are forced to stoop to these tactics just to survive. One temple or another is always looking for mercenaries or planewalkers to do some dirty deed to an opposing faith or simply to help protect themselves from their numerous enemies. But when it comes to planewalkers, most look at temples with one thing in mind: getting wounds healed and sicknesses cured. While there're obviously plenty of exceptions, most adventurers just aren't very pious. This outlook fits in real well in the Cage. A few of the temples have become more houses of healing than places of worship (if they ever really were that to begin with). These places found that the business of curing the sick and tending to wounds can be extremely lucrative. The temples of Apollo, Diancecht, Pelor, and even Frigga have expanded and grown to a level of power and influence far exceeding the rank and status of the powers they represent simply because they offer healing. The cost of healing fluctuates from day to day, based on what somebody from the Market Ward might call the "going market value." On average, however, a body should expect to pay around 100 gp per level of the spell that the priest has to use. Other charges might apply depending on the situation. LAW, JUSTICE, AND INEVITABLE DOOM:
Want to find the common folk in The Lady's Ward? Sadly, the best place to look is around the Prison or the Tower of the Wyrm at execution time. Bashers come quite regularly from the Lower Ward (and the rest of town) to watch justice done by the Mercykillers. The Law Houses are the City Barracks, the Prison, and the City Court. Each has a small "community" of homes, shops, and services that cater to those who work in those places and those who visit. The demeanour of the residents is the best guide to whether a body's in a High House or a Law,2 House locale. Even the servants of the High Houses dress and smell better than a good number of the poor sods forced to visit the City Court or the Prison, for example. Likewise, the military atmosphere surrounding the City Barracks won't be found around the High Houses (although security there is just as tight). The Law Houses have a distinctly different feel than the rest of the comfortable and well-kept ward. Oh, it's not that they're not well kept, it's just that the militaristic feel of the Law Houses areas are grim where the other areas are elegant, and harsh where the others are pristine. Interestingly, the three "Law House factions" (the Fraternity of Order, the Harmonium, and the Mercykillers) don't feel that they control or have a special attachment to the ward by any means. The factions have much loftier goals than that, and they're content to allow the knights of the ward and the priests of the great temples to conduct their little struggles for supremacy. The Law Houses don't generally involve themselves with High House dealings unless they impact the factions' works. Likewise, the Doomguard (whose Armory is based at the edge of The Lady's Ward) doesn't feel any special affiliation with it. In fact, many Doomguard hold a special distaste for the ward and its inhabitants. The members of this faction look upon the wealthy lords as foolish sods who waste their money building empires that're destined to crumble. LIVING IN THE LADY'S WARD:
Although it's easy to think that the ward comprises only the High Houses and the Law Houses, the folks who live in The Lady's Ward separate the ward into six districts: the Court District (surrounds the City Court), Firmground (the City Barracks area), the Armory District (the blocks around the Armory, also known as Entropy's Gem), the Graytowers District (surrounds the Prison), the Temple District, and the vast Nobles' District. While many of the residents of The Lady's Ward are wealthy, many more are not. These folks work as servants in the High Houses or operate the shops, restaurants, taverns, and services that serve the knights of the ward. Plus, many members of the Harmonium, Mercykillers, Fraternity of Order, and the Doomguard live near the headquarters of their factions (not all, by any means, but some do), and they're certainly not all rich. But who's fooling who? The Lady's Ward is for the rich. That can't be denied, and nobody really argues the point. The streets here are safer (or more dangerous for knights of the post), the buildings are better kept, and a body's got access to all the good things the planes have to offer-if a basher is of the right sort. The Hardheads patrolling the streets of the ward can tell by sight (so they say) who belongs in the ward and who doesn't. They escort the "wrong sorts of people" right out of the Noble's District if they don't arrest them outright. The other districts are more open and forgiving, but the entire ward bears the character of the stomping grounds of the elitist rich to one extent or another. The main streets here are wide and open. The narrow alleys appear more like normal streets in the rest of the Cage. The wide streets aren't the reason that a body won't find himself in a crowd here, though. Folks get where they're going and hurry inside. The Hardhead patrols are thick, and no one wants to be scragged for doing something they didn't even realize was wrong. Why take the chance? The wealthy spend much of their time attending formal balls and elegant parties where they forge new alliances and spar with their foes, all under a pretence of manners and protocol. The rest of their time is spent shopping (here and in the Market Ward), entertaining guests with grand banquets or expensive amusements, and taking holidays to other worlds through the well-guarded and well-regulated portals of the ward. The annual "holiday" called Grace is celebrated with a huge masquerade ball held in the fantastically large Palace of the Jester. All the social elite-and those wanting to see or be seen with them-attend this event. Over a thousand attendees appear at the yearly gala, which is hosted by a different family each year. Not surprisingly, each family attempts to overshadow those that have come before them, so each ball is larger and more lavish than the previous one. THE LOWER WARD:
THE CHANT:
If there's a ruling power in the Lower Ward, it's the chant. Rumors fly fast-even by Cager standards. What makes gossip so powerful here is the fact that in a place like the Lower Ward, where a body makes his Jiving by the skill of his hands and toil of his back, reputation is very important. If folks think badly of a cutter's work, he's in a world of trouble, because that's all he's got. He is his work. Speak badly of either his character or his skill-it's the same thing. While keeping a hasher's reputation on the top shelf is important, keeping lanned to the chant on everyone else is just as important. A body does business with those he can trust-in or out of the Lower Ward. This makes a chantmonger's job even more important in this ward than elsewhere. People gladly pay for the latest news. A chant-monger's got to stay on his feet, though. Folks won't give good jink to hear what the washwoman on the comer will tell them for free. Occasionally, information brokers down on their luck take to giving out screed as true chant, just to keep the jink flowing. They always find their reward on the leafless tree quicker than most folks'd think. THE GREAT FOUNDRY:
The Great Foundry and the area surrounding it probably exemplifies the Lower Ward in most hasher's minds. Here, the air is thick with fumes and smoke and the streets, buildings, and even the people are covered in soot, sweat, and grime. It is a place of real work. The Foundry itself is surrounded by an entire district that bears its name. The narrow, twisting, cobbled streets of this area provide homes for smaller forges and smithies, as well as support facilities, shops, and services for the folks who work and Jive here. A body won't find anything fancy, just simple, well-made staples and such to fill the basic needs. And there're plenty of taverns on Alehouse Row to quench the thirsts of the hard-working souls of the district. 'Course, since the Great Foundry provides the Believers of the Source with their factional headquarters, the place isn't without its intrigues and conflicts. At least three different times in the last two years, someone has managed to sabotage the works in the Foundry itself. This was accomplished in such a way that workers were killed or injured and production ground to a halt. Other factions, particularly the Dustmen and the Bleakers, were blamed but nothing could be proven. Some folks looked with a peery eye at the Anarchists as well. Because of these mysterious attacks, security is high. Watchful guards keep visitors out and glance suspiciously even at the workmen themselves. The Godsmen high-ups tried to quell paranoia by reminding the faction members that this sort of thing is just part of the grand scheme, further honing each of them to perfection. While this tactic achieved some success, the high-ups also managed to attract a few peery eyes themselves. Delegates and representatives from other factions and groups look clearly out of place coming to the Great Foundry-unless they've the brains to dress down a bit. The spies always know how to dress properly, but the smart spies strive for other assignments since infiltrating the Great Foundry usually involves a lot of hard labour as part of the cover. With the heightened security, the spies' jobs have become more difficult and the risks they take much greater. The Godsmen in the Great Foundry and the people of the Foundry District maintain a narrow outlook on life. They eat, sleep, and breathe craftwork and the products thereof (in some ways, very literally). Two types of bashers Jive in the Foundry District: the workmen and the artisans. Now, while many'd say the workmen are indeed artists themselves, they gladly distinguish themselves from the artisans. The majority of workmen portray themselves as hardworking, straightforward cutters who value difficult labour, skilled work, and honesty. Mostly, the artisans are a secretive lot who spend their time studying (and hoarding) arcane and obscure crafting skills. They keep to themselves out of paranoia as well as arrogance. They produce some of the finest crafted goods a body's ever likely to lay eyes on, though. THE SHATTERED TEMPLE:
This area of the Lower Ward is quiet, serene, and-according to some visitors-a little spooky. The remnants of a once gigantic temple dominate the district. This Shattered Temple, the headquarters of the Athar faction, is surrounded mostly by other ruins, although a few homes and a random shop or tavern stand in its shadows. Once a body stands a stone's throw away, the tightly packed edifices normal to a Sigil street resume. A careful eye notices that blocks and beams from the old temple went to raising the walls of a number of these buildings. This area has now and again found itself haunted by spirits of the angry dead. Ghosts and hauntings rarely pose a problem in Sigil and on the Outer Planes, but here, long-dead memories of the past remain strong enough to conjure up poltergeists, apparitions, and other spectral vapours. These forces cause fear among the residents and sometimes real damage to local buildings. 'Course, the Athar won't let an outside priest near the area to exorcise the spooks. Their own priests of the Great Unknown can handle it just fine, they say. THE GARIANIS FAMILY:
In the Lower Ward's Central District, which stretches from the Mortuary (in the Hive) and New Market and down to Gear Run (almost to the Shattered Temple District, but not quite-which means it's not so central), the Garianis family holds sway. Now, these folks aren't golden lords like those found in The Lady's Ward, and they're not entirely a real family like some king and queen with their royal brood. Instead, they're a group of folks organized by their families under the actual Garianis clan to watch over the folks of the Central District and their interests. In exchange, the people give them money. Are they criminals? In the eyes of the Harmonium and the Guvners, yes. In the eyes of the folks of the Lower Ward, no. In fact, those they protect see them as heroes. Most gladly "donate" the protection money. The Garianis family owns a number of taverns and businesses in their district outright. Starting another business, or even patronizing a direct competitor, in their area isn't a good idea. The family is powerful, pervasive, and, well...vindictive. Don't cross them, though, and they can be protective, nurturing, generous, and even kind. Friar Muriov Garianis (Pl/ o human/P 12 [Hades]/Free League/LE) is the unchallenged leader of the family. As a young man, he left the family to work at a temple to Hades that revered the god's aspect as the power of wealth. He eventually abandoned that life and returned to his destiny. His numerous children all work in the family business in various ways. This powerful group has existed for many generations, its leadership passing down the ages through the most successful Garianis offspring. There's no love lost between the Garianis and the city's authorities. The family avoids them with a great deal of garnish (a tactic more successful than the high-ups of the Harmonium and the Fraternity of Order want anyone to know), a well-honed system of subterfuge, good representation in the City Court (the best that money can buy), and most important, the cooperation of the people in their district. When the Hardheads can scrag a family member and make the charges stick, the Guvners are usually particularly severe in assigning the punishment. Strangely enough, the family's belief in their own sort of justice makes the Mercykillers fairly sympathetic to their goals, and unlike their allies they don't condemn the Garianis. Additionally, the family's obtained clandestine support from both the Free League and the Revolutionary League, just because of their opposition to their mutual enemy, the Harmonium. OTHER NEIGHBORHOODS AND DISTRICTS:
Butted up against the Foundry District is Little Bytopia, a squat full of gnomes and like-minded bashers who do their honest day's work, collect their honest day's pay, and go home without bothering anybody. Folks here like things the way they are, so don't go stirring up trouble. They don't abide it. Gurincraag is a small neighbourhood near Little Bytopia, though the residents rarely mix. Gurincraag means "dwarven mountain" in some Prime dwarf tongue, and it's probably someone's idea of irony. Though populated mainly by dwarves, this neighbourhood reflects nothing of the grandeur of a dwarven mountain. The real dark, however, is that the squat is really a sort of "front," for the neighbourhood extends down into Undersigil to caverns of surprising elegance and majesty. The dwarves don't show their true dwellings to just anyone, though, and newcomers (even dwarf newcomers) see only the simple houses above the street level. The unpopular neighbourhood of Hellgate is situated around three neighbouring portals to Baator. Chant has it that a single baatezu controls this neighbourhood (a pit fiend whose name is said to be Mirshaz, though others claim it to be Fesneur). More likely, Hellgate holds a number of camps and strings of alliances all vying for power. The baatezu (and the mortals who like to live near them) can't ever seem to curb their love for politics and power struggles. It's worth noting as well that more than one baatezu expert has expressed serious doubt that any pit fiends have taken up permanent residence in the Cage. Situated not far from Hellgate but closer to the Great Foundry and the Shattered Temple is Gear Street, a modron squat. This incongruous slice of Mechanus right in the middle of the Cage catches some berks off guard, with modrons tottering from case to case, thicker than any other kind of folk. It's a welcome neighbourhood, though, for in it a body can find all sorts of clockwork do-dads and well-made mechanisms. Better yet, while the modrons won't be cheated or haggled, they won't bob a basher, either. They've got their own security here, making it a safe little spot. Those with chaotic outlooks should plan on avoiding the area, though-they just won't fit in (and not fitting in is a crime to a modron...). SOME HISTORY:
Chant has it that long ago, the Lower Ward was called the Prime Ward. Newcomers settled here. That is, such folks were actually herded here by the Sodkillers or the Incanterium, then-extant factions that didn't want primes wandering around the city and getting in the way of their business. The Clueless lived here, at least until they figured out how to survive in the rest of the burg-which means of course that they weren't clueless any more. At that time, the ward took up about half of the area the Lower Ward does now, and a good' deal of the area that currently comprises the Hive Ward. Well, the restrictions placed upon the inhabitants of the Prime Ward caused what's now remembered as the Clueless Rebellion. While the name's got a humorous ring to it, there was nothing funny about what happened. See, the inhabitants of the ward discovered that the ward's doorways and arches had a proclivity toward portals leading to the Lower Planes. In defiance, the Clueless began activating these portals as often as possible, letting whatever they could into the Cage. Intelligent fiends knew better than to cause a lot of trouble in Sigil, but the Clueless also let in vast numbers of mindless monsters (and a lot of dangerous fumes and ill climatic effects). Beasts and horrors from the dark planes ravaged the Prime Ward and the surrounding wards until (it's said) the Lady herself took action. Many of the monsters disappeared, presumably into the Mazes but perhaps just back to the Lower Planes. The dabus did what they could to reverse the most terrible of the conditions, but much of the fumes and gloom remain today. The rebellious offenders were punished (got lost), but the restriction on Clueless movement through the city was lifted. The preponderance of lower-planar gates caused the area to become known as the Lower Ward. Initially all but abandoned after the Clueless Rebellion, the area was slow to recover as folks gradually moved back to the area. When the Great Foundry was built in the centre of the ward, it reinvigorated the area and encouraged bashers willing to put up with the conditions to set up their cases and their businesses here. 'Course, a few leatherheads out there still believe the Shadow-Sorcelled Key lies hidden somewhere in what was once the Prime Ward. This gate key, the stories go, was instrumental in the rebellion. Somehow, it can supposedly open all of the lower-planar portals in the ward at the same time. A frightening prospect, but probably just so much screed. Still.... LIVING IN THE LOWER WARD:
Well, by most standards, life isn't great in the Lower Ward, but there are certainly a lot of worse places in the multiverse- and a good many of them are right here in Sigil. The inhabitants persevere through hardship and overcome the harsh conditions of their home with dignity and sometimes even good-natured attitudes. Once a body's gotten used to the fumes and the stench produced by the forges, the portals to the Lower Planes, and who-knows-what-else, things don't seem so bad. When the air clears a bit, the streets are frequented by numerous people going to and from their jobs or on the various tasks that make up an urban life. A washwoman might have a few moments to stop and wigwag about the latest chant with her neighbours, and a vendor might stroll by selling some dry, crusty bread (kept in a covered basket to keep the soot and grime off), but most folks are on their way to or from somewhere. The natural gathering places are the taverns and eateries where a body can rest a bit and cool her hot, soot-filled throat with something wet and cold. Though sometimes rough and rarely pretty to look at, these Lower Ward establishments are filled with music, laughter, and up-front, matter-of-fact talk. Even in their homes, the inhabitants of this ward make meal- and rest-time a communal, open affair. Many times, multiple families share meals. The food they eat is rarely fancy, but it's usually hardy, filling, and well prepared. Most folks know a few tricks to keeping the harsh smells and filth from creeping inside, making their homes fairly pleasant, if simple and a little stark. "Just because we live in filth don't mean we have to act like it," Lower Ward mothers tell their children. A body's more likely to receive a fair deal here than in The Lady's Ward, the Market Ward, or the Hive. Since cutters live on their reputations, they're apt to deal straight so that others will do so with them. 'Course, if this all seems a little too rosy a picture of a place known for its nasty air and portals to the Nether Planes, a body can always look at neighbourhoods like Hellgate or some of the seedier, darker places in the ward-the Styx Oarsman, the Tenth Pit, the White Casket, and the like. The influence of the Lower Planes is difficult to overcome. THE CLERK'S WARD:
THREE HALLS:
The Hall of Speakers, the Hall of Records, and the Hall of Information constitute the main bastions of bureaucracy in the Clerk's Ward. Spaced evenly on the white granite-paved Rook Street, these three complexes are the backbone of Sigil's day-to-day government. A surrounding region of appropriate shops, services, taverns, and inns surrounds each of these Halls. For example, the area around the Hall of Information boasts some of the best bookshops in the Cage. Cutters interested in history, particularly the city's history, should definitely pay this district a visit. The Hall of Speakers has fine inns for visiting dignitaries and important bloods who wish to speak before the Council. Scribes and criers can also be found in abundance on the surrounding streets. The Hall of Records supports a number of busy clerks and accountants in the nearby businesses. THE ADMINISTRATORS' AND WORKERS' DISTRICTS:
Living conditions vary considerably between these two major districts in the Clerk's Ward. While the Administrators' District has many luxuries, the Workers' District provides few amenities. Both, however, maintain a clean yet drab appearance. The differences are much more evident to those folks living here, as opposed to visitors. In the Workers' District, there's said to be a group of young dissidents plotting an uprising against the authorities of the ward. Rumors abound that the Revolutionary League supports these young firebrands, but this is untrue. In fact, the Doomguard backs them in their plots and efforts. This faction wants to see the Clerk's Ward brought down in flames, for they hate its pristine order. The dissidents themselves want to create an egalitarian government that maintains equal treatment for all citizens. They consider violence to be an acceptable means to achieve this goal. Although they've taken no action as yet, their plans are wide reaching and incredibly destructive (probably due to the Doomguard influence). THE FESTHALL DISTRICT:
A body doesn't have to be a Sensate to appreciate the striking difference between the Festhall District and the rest of the Clerk's Ward. Among the bright colours and wild music of the Civic Festhall, cutters find members of the Society of Sensation attempting to gamer as many experiences as they can. The Hardhead guards patrol this area heavily, watching closely for any Sensate activities that might get out of hand and overly disturb or endanger the tranquillity of the Clerk's Ward and its people. Fact is, the Harmonium's attempting to use legal channels to convince the Sensates to move the Civic Festhall to another ward-like perhaps the Hive. They claim that the Festhall so clearly fails to fit in with the rest of the ward that it should be relocated. Little chance exists for Hardhead success in this matter. The Society of Sensation points out that the presence of the Hall of Speakers often creates and encourages as much of a disturbance as the Civic Festhall. Protests, debates, and arguments frequently spill into the surrounding streets (some start out there and never even reach the actual Hall). LITTLE ARCADIA:
Although the Harmonium maintains its strength in The Lady's Ward, a good many of its members live in a small neighbourhood that folks have taken to calling Little Arcadia. The inhabitants make this a safe, if slightly bland, place to live. Armed militia, high walls, and strict local laws (like harsh curfews) help to protect and regulate the area. Unfortunately, they also keep out what the locals call "undesirables," which amounts to some hefty discrimination and prejudice. Still, the streets are quiet and peaceful, the buildings are clean and pleasant looking (again, one might be tempted to use the word "bland"), and there's little for a body to fear-assuming the residents let him in. If a berk's wandering the Cage looking to see celestials (the ones that every tout tells a body are in taverns drinking with fiends aren't as easy to come upon as the touts claim, in reality), Little Arcadia's not a bad place to try. Aasimon who come to the City of Doors with intentions of staying awhile often look for some little piece of home, and few places in the Cage remind a body of the Upper Planes. Devas, guardinals, agathion, and others can be seen mixing freely with the locals, though many tend to keep to a spot called the Silver Spire, a tower used as a meeting place and inn for celestials. Nobody really knows what goes on inside, because (as one disgruntled bariaur who was turned away put it) "if ya ain't got a pair o' feathered wings on your back, don't come knockin'." Only celestial beings can enter. Apparently, even most aasimar are politely turned away at the gate. One more thing a bright basher will note about Little Arcadia: It's not a safe case for tieflings and full-blooded fiends. Those who somehow find their way into this neighbourhood for more than a brief visit never come back out. Fiends and tieflings usually just disappear, never to be seen again. Chant is a rogue asuras with a powerfully enchanted magical spear murders any creature with lower-planar origins. 'Course, it's not as if any blood in Little Arcadia's trying too hard to catch him... THE SANDSTONE DISTRICT:
The Sandstone District stands in sharp contrast to Little Arcadia, for it provides a home for many tieflings and even a few true fiends. Where Little Arcadia is restrictive, the Sandstone District is open and free in regard to who can live here. 'Course, this also means that a few knights of the post and less desirable types call kip here as well. In particular, a wizard called Tyrashyk of the Broken Wand (Pl/ o human/M 13/Fated/NE) lives in the district. He's rumoured to capture sods in the umbra of night to sacrifice to some dark god of magic. Though Harmonium patrols only rarely wander into this area, the Hardheads have tried more than once to catch the spellslinger on his nefarious errands in the dim hours, but to no avail. Tyrashyk denies the chant, of course, and nobody can prove him wrong. There's also a tiefling soothsayer named Chumbrai (Pl/known throughout the neighbourhood, the ward, and even all of Sigil as a particularly canny source of clairvoyant information. Chant is, some of the city's high-ups (administrators, crime bosses, golden lords, and even factois). come to ask Chumbrai questions about the ultimate dark: the future. DAUGHTERS OF THE LIGHT:
The Daughters of the Light is a loose confederation of people unified with a single cause. Now, it might sound that the group qualifies as a sect or a faction wanna-be, but that ain't the case. The Daughters of the Light exists only to put an end to the Revolutionary League. This pan-factional group has no official endorsement from any faction-it supports itself. Why the Anarchists? Well, the Daughters of the Light's own literature goes something like this: "Deep in the shadows, a group of evil conspirators lurks, plotting to overthrow your way of life, your governments and organizations, your family. These fiends lie, cheat, steal, and even murder to reach their goal, and that goal consists of nothing less than the complete subversion of all you hold dear. This group of criminals has a name: the Revolutionary League. "They infiltrate groups, governments, and even families. They manipulate events through guile and subterfuge. Their agents are everywhere but never visible. The Revolutionary League is powerful, their tentacles reaching everywhere. Their agents are canny and cunning, yet subversive. Many of the leaders that you trust, the friends and co-workers that you associate with, and even the family members that you love are Revolutionary League agents. "These self-proclaimed Anarchists preach freedom but want only destruction and the dissolution of society. Those among you who value your homes, your families, and your way of life will help us oppose these lying, thieving murderers at all costs. If they win, we all lose." This organization was created to increase awareness of the Anarchists' activities with the hope that the "light of truth" would expose and dispel their shadowy operations. They also raise money by collecting from concerned (often terrified) donors. This money goes toward printing more anti-League pamphlets. It also supports the reporting service. Concerned Cagers who suspect Anarchist activities are instructed by the Daughter's literature to report to them. The Daughters of the Light then investigates the report more closely, eventually turning over any leads and evidence to the Harmonium, the Fraternity of Order, and the Mercykillers (chant has it that they actually tum over this information to all of the factions, just to be safe). The Daughters of the Light is based in the Clerk's Ward and uses an old butcher shop as its headquarters. Don't be fooled by the name-members of both sexes are involved, although the group was started by a small group of concerned mothers. While still small in size, the organization has managed to stir up a lot of paranoia, distrust, and outright fear in Sigil. While most folks had heard of the Revolutionary League before the Daughters came along, they'd never had the Anarchist's bad qualities laid bare before them. 'Course, not everything that the Daughters of the Light claims about the faction is true... A body still might be asking herself, why the Anarchists? Couldn't a group have started up with an anti-Signer outlook, or to oppose the Guvners, or any of the other factions? Despite the fact that the Daughters claim no faction relationship (many of the members belong to factions, but none are above the namer rank), the answer is "yes." The Daughters don't look at the Revolutionary League as a faction to be ranked among the others but rather as an evil group of subversive agents and destructive murderers. Nevertheless, some of the other factions are frightened rather than heartened by its success. If the Daughters of the Light ultimately proves successful, other faction members wonder, what will stop it or some new group from turning on us? It's also rumoured that the Daughters of the Light exists as an Anarchist front spreading misinformation and false leads (as well as stirring up general interest about the faction). Such is the nature of conspiracy theories; once a body begins to lose his trust, he soon finds that he can't even trust those who convinced him to lose his trust in the first place. LIVING IN THE CLERK'S WARD:
Quality of life in the Clerk's Ward depends greatly on who a body is and where exactly she lives. Administrators in the Halls of Records and Information, officials from the Hall of Speakers, and high-ranking employees or business owners in the rest of the ward live very well. The lowly clerks, scribes, and other simple folk live no better than folks in the Hive although the Clerk's Ward is quite a bit safer. Folks here mind their own business and prefer not to get involved. Helping some berk, or even talking to him, will probably just lead to more work, or worse yet, the attentions of the high-ups. "Leave well enough alone, it's not my problem," crosses through these folks' brain-boxes almost continually. In general, the Clerk's Ward is not the place to come looking for a good meal and fine entertainment. (The Festhall District ranks highly in both areas, though.) This is a quiet, drab ward for quiet, drab people. But maybe because of the lack of the other two luxuries, maybe because of some of the other aspects of the ward, a body will find plenty of good bub here... THE GUILDHALL WARD:
GYMNASIUM DISTRICT:
Not surprisingly, Ciphers constitute most of the population in this area. Most members of the faction live very close to their headquarters-and who can blame them, since they have free access to the luxuries of the Great Gymnasium! Surrounding this elegant structure are businesses that cater to the factioneers and others who come to relax or work out in the Gymnasium. Beyond that stretches a mainly residential area. It's generally an active, pleasant neighbourhood. 'Course, the members of the Transcendent Order aren't without their problems. The latest chant reveals the existence of a murderer or group of murderers that preys only on Ciphers. It's taken the Harmonium awhile to come to that conclusion, but they're sure of it now. (The investigative arm of the Hardhead faction isn't their strongest one, and-in their defence-it's difficult to investigate a crime where the only similarity is the personal philosophy of the victims.) Because of this, the Transcendent Order has its own (illegal) patrols watching the district. Since the Ciphers tend toward jumping to conclusions and going on gut instinct rather than investigating clues or questioning suspects, these patrols have created a great deal of conflict on the streets of the Gymnasium district. Wrongful "arrests" and misguided vigilante attacks are commonplace now, and the real authorities don't have the manpower to stop them. Worse, the murders continue. All concerned assume that more than one killer is involved since the methods and style of the murders vary so widely. Some folks theorize that the murderers use spells, while others claim that the killers have natural magical powers, like fiends or celestials. Still others say that the victims themselves are part of a spell, unwilling participants in some foul ritual or sacrifice to an evil god. OTHER AREAS:
In at least one respect, the Guildhall Ward is less cosmopolitan than the other wards of Sigil. A number of neighbourhoods are devoted to members of one particular race or background. There is no "official ordinance" requiring this segregation. Rather, it arose from folks wanting familiar faces and familiar surroundings in the unfamiliar maze that is the City of Doors. One of the larger racial neighbourhoods (or "squats") is the githyanki community known as Git'riban, or sometimes Githariban. The architecture here is distinctly githyankithat is, baroque and ornate. Some folks are surprised by the number of githyanki in the Cage. Most figure that the bashers stick to the Astral, especially when there're so many githzerai about ready to put them in the dead-book. Well, while there're frequent skirmishes here and in the githzerai Hive neighbourhood of Darkwell Court, and the githyanki really have to watch their step and move about the City of Doors in numbers, the chant is that most of those found in Git'riban are actually rogues who've fled the Astral, never to return. These outcasts and pariahs aren't talking when it comes to the whys and wherefores of their exile, but plenty of berks like to guess. The elf community of Sigil lives in an area without a real name, although some leatherheads laughingly refer to it as the Forest. See, the elves who choose to live in the Cage aren't like most elves. Most of those folks could never stand to be cooped up in a grimy, dreary, lifeless city like Sigil. Those who can don't notice the conditions. Thus, their neighbourhood is indistinguishable from any other part of Sigil, except that it's full of elves. It's a small squat-a street really, called Ritman Street by some, Long Lane by others. The squat of Ghundarhavel-a neighbourhood inhabited almost entirely by bariaur-is known to the locals by its real name (which means "home without grass" in their native tongue). Those who don't live here call it Hoof Park. This little community's taverns and eateries cater to bariaur tastes and accommodations. Shops carry bariaur clothing, armor, shoes, grooming tools, and other unique items. It's a pleasant enough place (as Cager neighbourhoods go), but the inhabitants are surprisingly unwelcoming to those of other races. Bordering Ghundarhavel near the Clerk's Ward lies a squat called Curly-Foot. Curly-Foot provides a home away from home to a fair number of halflings. While most halflings have a surprising adaptability (not unlike humans), they still prefer to live in familiar territory. Talun Underfoot (Pr/ o halfling/F3/Transcendent Order/NG), a wealthy halfling from a world called Oerth, had a few tons of real Oerthian soil brought in (at tremendous expense), complete with sod. He then commissioned an actual burrow to be built (dug?) for him in the artificial hill that was created. It stands in the centre of Curly-Foot. A few years back, a tout new to the business sent a group of Clueless halflings to find a case in Curly-Foot. Unfortunately, these halflings were from a prime world called Athas. When the halflings from Athas attempted to eat the residents of Curly-Foot, it took virtually every local warrior to expel them from the neighbourhood. GUILDHALL WARD HISTORY:
The Guildhall Ward once held the reigns of power in the Cage. While it still retains some vitality and importance (that is to say, it's not the slum that the Hive is}, it has long since lost its grand qualities. In days so long ago that most books don't even mention them, centuries before the Great Upheaval, the guilds of Sigil were powerful cabals of well-organized men and women. Back then, the numerous and splintered factions constantly and openly fought with each other, often resulting in warfare and chaos on the streets. In these dangerous days, the guilds were bastions of order, safety, and peace. A basher not part of the constant factional conflicts found protection and stability with the guilds. Some of the more powerful guilds included the Stoneworkers, the Freemen (carpenters, masons, and roofers), the Leatherworkers, the Alchemists, and the Planewalkers. The Planewalkers were a guild of mercenaries willing to travel anywhere for the right price. (The guild's name became the name for all types of planar adventurers over time.) After the Great Upheaval, when the factions were stabilized by edict of the Lady, the guilds fell on hard times. The people of Sigil clung to one faction or another, and the consolidated, more-powerful-than-ever factions saw the guilds as unnecessary threats. Many of the new or newly, organized factions forbade their members to hold guild membership. Most of the major guilds fell apart soon after, leaving only a few of the more "innocuous" ones-the Innkeepers, the Touts, and so on. The Alchemist guild went into hiding, and the Planewalker's Guild left Sigil and relocated to Ysgard, on the Infinite Staircase. Most say that they disbanded soon afterward. The Secret Society of Alchemy still exists today, and although the factions hardly notice the guilds anymore, it still chooses to remain hidden. These bashers maintain their expertise in magical study, herbology, and magical item construction. Some of them are wizards, while others are merely learned scholars. Although most folks don't even know that they exist, chant is that the Alchemists dabble in forbidden and dark magic, keeping obscure secrets and long forgotten rituals that produce spells unlike any cast by contemporary wizards. LIVING IN THE GUILDHALL WARD:
The Guildhall Ward possesses less of a unique atmosphere all its own than the other wards of Sigil. It's a mishmash of cultures and races, each attempting to keep its own identity. Somehow, it all fits together without creating the chaos and disorder of the Hive. The Guildhall Ward celebrates a holiday four times each year called Harmony. This huge festival's origins and even meaning have been lost in the mists of time, but the residents of the ward continue to celebrate it with great enthusiasm. Parties, parades, and revelries occur over a three-day period at the end of each third month. At night, bashers throw colored powders into torches and lamps, causing them to bum with red, green, or blue flames. The number of lights causes the Guildhall Ward to shine more brightly than any other place in the Cage at that time. Folks from all over Sigil come to celebrate the parties of Harmony, which means authorities and cross-traders both are out in full force. THE MARKET WARD:
FOOD AND DRINK:
Most of the food that Cagers eat comes through the Market Ward at some point. Even if a cutter doesn't buy his food there, chances are that the local vendor in his ward or the restaurateur that he bought the food from dealt with a Market Ward vendor. Almost any sort of foodstuff can be found here, but the really rare comestibles are sold first-come, first-serve (usually at a high price) and only when available (in season). A few examples of the more interesting kinds of food and drink are presented below. Arborean wine: This extremely expensive wine (130 gp per bottle from most sources) is made from giant grapes that grow on the plane for which it's named. Actual giants pick and crush the grapes, thus raising the price. For those unaccustomed to its potency, this wine intoxicates anyone drinking it twice as quickly and as completely as most other wines. Bytopian cheese: This cheese comes in three types, blue, red, and white. Made from goat's milk, these unique cheeses have a flavour unlike any other. Each costs about 1 gp per pound, with the price of the blue cheese often exceeding twice that during the night (at night, the blue cheese glows in the dark and gains a much tangier, spicier flavour). Fire fruit: Shipped directly from the Elemental Plane of Fire, these delicacies bum with a soft flame while fresh. If a body douses the flame only right before eating, their taste exceeds virtually any other fruit. Left extinguished, they spoil in just a few minutes. Vendors keep them in special containers and serve them with tongs. They're tempting, but beware-this fruit is utterly deadly to all but the most fire resistant beings. Each costs 2 sp. CLOTHING:
Everybody needs clothing-the Harmonium's pushed laws through the Council of Speakers requiring it, in fact. The Market Ward features shop after shop with clothing and cloth, as well as leather goods, furs, shoes, hats, jewelry, and miscellaneous accessories. Chillfoot boots: Developed by a halfling cobbler right here in Sigil, these useful leather boots seem useless-even detrimental- on first glance. Somehow, they harbor an unnatural cold conjured from some icy waste. Basically, any berk who puts them on gets very cold feet. The boots are too uncomfortable to wear for much longer than half an hour normally. However, if worn in areas of great heat, that same berk can walk over red-hot surfaces and even through flames without any harm coming to him-or at least to his feet. While the wearer's not fireproof by any means, he can safely resist any damage normally incurred by touching hot surfaces with his feet (such as in Khalas on Gehenna). These boots cost 130 gp or more (depending on where a body buys them). Fishskin suit: This suit stitched from ichythian hides allows a cutter to swim through water smoothly and quickly. It comes complete with webbed gloves and fins for the feet, increasing a body's swimming speed by 500/o. A tailor-made suit with accessories costs 225 gp. Living cloak: Chant is, this thing comes from the Prime somewhere. While it looks like a normal, thick fur cloak, it's actually alive. When worn, the cloak clutches tightly (not painfully or restrictively) around the wearer. Coupled with the "creature's" own body heat, this cloak is about the warmest piece of clothing in the multiverse-at least, that's what the vendors say. They charge 60 gp for the cloaks, and only a few merchants in the ward know where to procure them. Solanian shoes: On Solania (a layer of Mount Celestia), these climbers' shoes allow a blood to scale even vertical inclines safely and without fear. Elsewhere in the multiverse they aid a climber by adding 50/o to his chance to scale any surface. Market Ward vendors won't let these useful items go for less than 300 gp. Zadisband: This simple novelty item looks like a regular leather headband or armband, but it has a unique feature: It continually hums a soft, melodic tune. While most bashers grow tired of the humming eventually, they make wonderful- if often-recycled-gifts. Each costs 8 sp. EQUIPMENT:
Often, planewalkers make the Cage their base of operations. To do their jobs (which can vary greatly), planewalkers need equipment. Beyond all the normal things that adventurers need, Sigil's Market Ward offers the following rarer items (in addition to many, many others). Bytopian bottle: By utilizing some law of nature on the plane of Bytopia, the gnomes who live there are able to make bottles that can store two different liquids without the liquids ever mixing. They come in all shapes and sizes but generally cost around 15 gp. They are widely available. Celestian rope: The spiders found on Mount Celestia are metallic things of gold and silver (and can themselves be purchased for 2 gp each in the Market Ward). They spin a gossamer silk that's virtually transparent and very strong. This silk has a variety of uses, one of which is to make strong and lightweight rope. Vendors usually charge about 1 gp per foot for this rope, which has the strength of a normal chain and is almost invisible. Clearsteel shield: Clear steel is a mineral found only on Acheron. There, they use it to make (what else?) weapons and armour. While the weapons are simply novelties, many a blood has seen the practical need for a transparent shield. These shields are available from many armorers in the Cage and cost twice as much as shields made from more common metals. Hiter chain: Lengths of chain from the Baatorian city of Jangling Hiter are the finest in the multiverse, bar none. Durable, rust-free, and lightweight, this chain puts others to shame. Each foot of chain costs 10 gp and weighs 1 pound. Mandorian stone: In the Grand Bazaar, careful shoppers can find a small cart owned by a short, stout woman named Finn. Finn sells polished stones of all types, a few made into pieces of jewellery or set into ornate boxes. She also sells something she calls Mandorian stones, although she won't reveal their source. These greyish-blue rocks come in one, two, and five pound sizes. When struck sharply, these stones become immovable in space, able to support up to 100 times their own weight. Striking them again negates the effect, in which case they seem like normal stones until struck again. There's a tea-house garden in the Guildhall Ward where the steps up to a secluded loft consist only of Mandorian stones. Canny bashers take soft, careful steps up those stairs. As a strange side effect, these stones give off an eerie moaning sound when wet. No one knows why. Voidmarks: Vendors selling these claim that they come from the plane of Vacuum-hence the name. However, more than one greybeard has taken the time to investigate and prove this to be false. Voidmarks come from the portion of the Outlands known as Tir na Og, where they just call them marker bits. These chalklike sticks can be used to make invisible marks on things. The marks made by the chalk can only be seen through special dark lenses or magical means that normally reveal invisible objects. Cross-trading bloods use voidmarks to indicate future targets to their comrades by surreptitiously marking their clothes. Shopkeepers use them to mark prices or secret notes on their merchandise. Planewalkers use them to mark paths through the wilderness, mazes, or whatnot. If a body buys a stick or two, he shouldn't forget to buy the lens to see them. A stick costs 8 sp, while the 3-inch by 3-inch handheld lens costs 5 gp (and it's not good for anything but seeing voidmarks). Water-torch: Using a process developed in Limbo by the githzerai, woodcrafters in Sigil have developed a way to treat wood so that it will bum even when wet. In fact, the wood bums even when submersed in water. Unfortunately, the treatment process requires some rare chemical mixtures and about six months, so each water-torch costs 8 gp. LIVING CREATURES:
In certain parts of the Market Ward, a body can't even hear her own bone-box rattle due to the screeching, braying, roaring, and chittering of the animals for sale. It might surprise some folks that a metropolitan city like the Cage offers a livestock area, but it's true. Merchants herd animals into the city through a portal, sell them, and then the new owner herds them right back out again through his own portal. Although prospective buyers can find virtually any kind of beast (even some rather deadly monsters) for sale in the Market Ward, those presented below are some of the more interesting specimens. Astral streaker: These birds hail from the Astral Plane. They're intelligent and have excellent homing instincts, making them wonderful messengers. Small bits of paper or cloth can be tied to their legs. If treated well, they become fiercely loyal. Each sells for about 3 gp-they're fairly common around Sigil. Trained ethyk: Dragged from its home on the plane of Bytopia, this lemurlike creature has the ability to alter the moods of other creatures. Unfortunately, an ethyk always alters it for the worse, making others more aggressive and contrary. In the wild, the ethyk uses this ability to encourage predators to become aggressive toward other prey, for the object of the ethyk's powers never directs its aggression toward the ethyk itself (handy, that). Some folks like to have these beasts around, for trained ethyks can be made to increase the aggression in others, directed away from both ethyk and master. In the debate-heated confines of the Hall of Speakers, for example, it's handy to deflect an opponent's ire at another-which is exactly why they're not allowed in that building... In any event, most trainers sell ethyks for around 150 gp. These beasts understand simple one-word commands but only accept them from someone that they've been around for at least a week. After a few months of additional training, they can be taught simple tasks such as retrieving small items, tying knots, warning of intruders, and so on. MISCELLANEOUS:
Jewellery? Yes sir. Transport? No problem. Musical instruments? Of course. The Market Ward can fill any need that a body has-no matter how varied or strange. Baatorian lute: First off, any leatherhead knows that the baatezu aren't known for their music. Nevertheless, an observant cutter found a box of interesting instruments called Baatorian lutes as she went through the cart of a peddler who'd gone to the dead-book. A member of the Fated, she was processing his belongings for tax purposes before the Dustmen carted it all away. In any event, it seems that these lutes were originally crafted by an erinyes (this determined through some careful research and a legend lore spell) and sold as extras. They have no special powers per se, but they produce sounds unlike any previously heard by mortal ears. The Fated sold the lutes to a merchant in the Grand Bazaar, so they are once again available to the public. The curiosity value has forced the price to rise considerably. No one will let one go for less than 450 gp. Githyanki jewelry: The githyanki produce gold and silver gem-studded jewellery of all sorts: necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and everything else. Not only are they ornate and wonderfully crafted, but they also possess an interesting property. Whenever the wearer's name is spoken within one mile, the jewellery tingles. Apparently, each piece is somehow psionically attuned so that it mentally "reads" the name of the wearer and then scans the surrounding area. While not terribly useful, this intriguing power jacks the price of the jewellery (usually worth from 500 to 5,000 gp for the material and craftsmanship alone) up 500 percent. Jandor's Music Boxes: Not a thing, really, but a place, Jandor's has a wide variety of musical boxes. These .~legant devices bear the precision of something from Mechanus and the beauty of an art object from Elysium. Each is diffe~nt, but all of them seem to be a steal at 80 gp. The thing is, nobody knows the dark of where they come from or who makes them-and Jandor (the owner) is keeping his bone box locked. The real dark? Jandor's a polymorphed nalfeshnee, and the boxes each contain the essence of a tanar'ri warrior ready to materialize and pounce when Jandor gives the word. The moral? Let the buyer beware. HIGH WEIRDNESS:
Sigil's the self-proclaimed center of the multiverse (what place ain't?). Because of its unique position and easy access to virtually everywhere else, a body exploring the Market Ward can stumble upon some very strange things. Some of this odd, miscellaneous stuff is magical, while some is just weird or rare. A few examples of such high weirdness are presented below. Clockwork pets: More than likely, these things originated on Mechanus or the gate-town of Automata. These iron contraptions are designed to resemble normal domesticated animals-dogs, cats, birds, and even fish. Clockwork pets function in every way that a normal trained animal would, except that they don't need to eat or sleep. None of them seem capable of combat, either. Most clockwork pets seem created for aesthetic value, as they are incredibly beautiful. Many produce wonderful music by "singing." Depending on the materials used in construction, clockwork pets cost anywhere from 1,000 to 8,000 gp. Favoured among the golden lords of Sigil, they're only obtained in an upscale clockmaker's shop called Divinities. Memory crystal: A vendor who worked out of Girreht's Jewekraft once sold these crystals. (At the time he said he was a friend of Girreht's, but now that he's gone the githzerai claims to have no memory of him.) He apparently had an entire box of them, but no one knows for sure if he managed to sell them all. These memory crystals are a little like thought recorders (see below), but instead of being able to store the image of a thought, the small, finger-sized crystals can store a memory. The memory is preserved in exact detail (and is completely accurate-it's what really happened, from the recorder's point of view) and can be "replayed" by anyone holding the crystal. The memory will never be more than ten minutes long, but once stored in a crystal, it lasts forever. A monastic deva visiting from Elysium reportedly rattled her bone-box about the crystals being from an order of psionicists sequestered deep within that plane. They call the crystals Fir-annads. Another source, however, claims that the crystals come from Pandemonium and are used by fiends THE GRAND BAZAAR FROM THE INDEP'S VIEW:
"Sure, the Grand Bazaar is a great place to pick up some trinkets, buy some food and bub, and try on a new hat. However, it's also the 'headquarters' of the Free League. How's that work? Not too well, if the Free League was an official sort of faction with offices, applications, and the rest of that screed. But we Indeps aren't like that, so it all works just fine." So says Kalo Seth, an outspoken Indep who works in the Grand Bazaar and loves it. Kalo's a successful artist who sketches caricatures of folks in the plaza of the Bazaar. His less-successful friend Jomatt isn't quite as enamoured of the place. "It'd be nice to have someplace to go to get away from the crowds, like the other factions," he says. Chesfur, a bariaur smith, adds, "Oh, I'm always telling Peeping Jomatt (that's what we call him around here) that he should just quit complaining. The Indeps aren't even a faction. If he wants some fancy headquarters and a bunch of berks behind desks telling him what to do, he should join the Guvners." "There's just no place else to be," Kalo states. "It's good for business and it's a good place to be free of the strictures of the rest of the Cage." LIVING IN THE MARKET WARD:
For the most part, only the folks who work in this ward choose to live here full time. Other cutters who come here to do business stay in the various inns on a temporary basis. The general feel here is one of self-sufficiency. "Watch your own back, berk," remains a commonly heard catchphrase. In the neighbourhoods of the rich merchant "kings," a body might think he was in The Lady's Ward. Walking down Copperman Way, a cutter sees well-kept and well-guarded manors, wide newly paved streets, and ample-bellied merchants riding in sedan chairs carried by muscular soldier slaves. Much of the rest of the ward, where the business is done, is a crowded cacophony of peddlers, hawkers, consumers, sightseers, and beggars, not to mention Hardhead patrols, entertainments that entice shoppers to come to one store or another, and the frequent arguments that break out when haggling escalates out of hand. And that doesn't even begin to include the livestock and other animals for sale, which are actually more pungent than loud. Yet folks in the Market Ward live as well as work here. Many shopkeepers live right in their stores (or above, or behind...) and peddlers and vendors live in tiny hovels set up close to the markets and bazaars. Although the Market Ward doesn't have several well defined districts like the other wards, the Warehouse District is a distinct area with rows upon rows of storehouses. Guards maintain a constant vigil, though (as usual) most are not immune to a little garnish. If anything rules the Market Ward, it's jink. Forget the Harmonium, the Council of Speakers, or even the Lady herself. Money is the real power here. Everything is for sale. Everything. Not just goods, but information, loyalty, justice, public opinion, reputation-even religion. If a body likes money, this is the place to be. Folks who don't twig to such level of commercialism should complete their business and move out fast. THE HIVE WARD:
THE DEAD DISTRICT:
It's no secret that the Dustmen run the Mortuary in the Hive. They're a fairly quiet faction, rarely causing trouble for others (though the chant says that they might have something to do with the problems the Gods men are having). The real dark is that they quietly run the entire Hive Ward. The Dead District (the area around the Mortuary) is probably the cleanest and safest place in the Hive. The streets have better lighting, and folks walk them with little fear. 'Course, it being next to their headquarters, it's not surprising that the district's thick with Dustmen. However, the poor sods who live here know that "the eyes of the Dead watch everything in the Hive." The Dustmen faction directly or indirectly controls much of what occurs in the ward. Some say that they even gain a percentage of all money made, legally or illegally, in the Hive. The dark grows deeper. The rumoured reason why they exert such control over the Hive, which they've actually done for centuries, is twofold. First, to raise funds to support a dire master plan. Facto! Skall, it is said, desires to convert everyone in the Cage over to his way of thinking by persuasion or by force. And the easiest way to convert sods by force is to put them in the dead-book itself. Second, if there's going to be a "mass conversion," his forces need a staging ground, and the Hive is conveniently free of most Harmonium patrols and nosy Fated tax collectors-even the dabus usually steer dear of the slum. The visible result of all this is that wise bloods living in the Hive quietly toss a little jink in the cart when the Dustmen corpse collectors come by. It's either that, or suddenly discover that there's room for one more on that cart tomorrow. The inhabitants of the Hive have all heard that a secret order of Dead assassins exists to punish those who won't cooperate with the faction or who actively counter their plans. No one seems to know anything more about these shadowy killers, however. THE CHAOS DISTRICT:
The Xaositects have their headquarters in the Hive, too. Do they know about the Dead's supposed plans? Maybe. Maybe not. Who can tell? And even if they did, would they care? The slum called the Hive, as opposed to the entire ward surrounding it, functions as the Xaositects' headquarters-as much as they have one. It's also known as the Chaos District. Visitors to this neighbourhood should be ready for anything. Anything. The Chaos District is a jumble of falling-down buildings, hastily raised hovels, and winding streets (some which go seemingly nowhere) filled with cacophonous sounds, smells, and sights. No one building serves the faction as a base. Rather, the Xaositects just hang out in the neighbourhood, so it's the place folks go if they want to find them. THE MADHOUSE DISTRICT:
Only the Bleakers seem to take any initiative to make the Hive a better place. The Bleak Cabal runs a number of soup kitchens and shelters for those who have nowhere else to go. Their headquarters, the Madhouse, takes in those barmies who just couldn't handle their lives any more. There's a certain appropriateness to the fact that in Sigil, when a body has sunk to the utter bottom and has no where else to tum, she can always look to the Madmen for solace. The district around the Madhouse is wide and open unlike most of the Hive. A body's likely to encounter a number of ragged urchins, crippled beggars, and wretchedly poor sods here, hoping to gamer help from the Bleakers. The screams and wails of madness from the Madhouse itself set the mood on edge in the district, but the barmies, at least, are all safe inside. Chant has it that the Bleakers built a number of underground entrances to the catacombs below the city. Some say that the Madhouse is full, and now they throw the inmates into the deep warrens below, while others say that the Bleakers have it in their heads that there's something important down there to find. Other versions of the chant say that it was the barmies inside who dug down and out, and now their keepers follow the madmen down there to bring them back. Whatever the case, rumours abound of search parties exploring the reaches under the Madhouse. THE DITCH:
The Ditch is a hideous trench ripped through Sigil like a giant scar, dividing the Hive from the Lower Ward. Some maps put the Ditch in the Lower Ward, but it really fits in the Hive-it's a water-filled gouge filled with trash, offal, and dead bodies. Certainly sounds like it belongs in the Hive. Despite the horrible and dogged waters, the Ditch holds a number of portals and thus many bashers use it as transport to other planes or gate-towns. Occasionally, a special portal to the River Oceanus opens to fill the Ditch and purge its foulness with pure, sparkling water. When this happens, folks on both sides drop whatever they're doing to bathe in and drink the refreshing water. A few berks claim that they've developed systems for predicting when this occurs, and one barmy's even sure enough of his formula to propose that a scheduled official holiday be declared so that people are ready for the deluge. The real dark is that the dabus have access to the Oceanus portal and its key. They purposely open the portal repeatedly, letting in the river's water. Their motives are beyond understanding, let alone prediction, so the berks with the systems are spouting screed. THE SLAGS:
The Slags are a small, isolated area of the Hive Ward that lies in ruin. Chant has it that a Blood War battle spilled over into Sigil once, and the devastation it caused resulted in the Slags. There're still quite a few fiends scattered throughout the area, so it's an easy story to believe-and some bashers claim that the portal which let the battle in is due to open up again. Soon. Many horrible tales come out of the Slags, but none is more frightening than that of the self-proclaimed King of the Slags. This being (reports conflict as to whether he is a nycaloth, a nalfeshnee, or an obese tiefling) reportedly demands tribute from anyone it comes upon as it wanders the Slags. The tribute is in the form of virtue-the King demands that its "subjects" perform some evil act for it. This could mean striking a friend, stealing food from the poor, maligning some good power, or even worse. The King of the Slags possesses a great deal of might to back up its demands, and it's also got a lot of evil thugs and minders that follow it in the shadows, ready to strike when it calls for them. Creatures not tolerated in other areas of Sigil call kip in the Slags. Monstrous humanoids most often found in Acheron-orcs, goblins, hobgoblins, and the like-live in nomadic camps that move around the ruined wasteland. A lower-planar native like a night hag, hordling, or gehrelfth is as likely to share the street with a body as a human or bariaur. Now, such creatures are occasionally found in other areas of Sigil, but in the Slags they act as if they own the place. It may be that they're no more common in the Slags than anywhere else, but the lack of normal or upstanding. folk in comparison makes it seem like there're more of 'em. OTHER AREAS:
Darkwell Court's ominous name serves to scare off cross traders and undesirables more than anything else. The neighbourhood's inhabitants, a large community of githzerai, live in the Hive because it's isolated, not because they're poor. The githzerai have made this area uniquely their own. Gone are the sweeping gables and iron spikes found on most Sigil buildings. Here, the walls are smooth, the roofs are flat (sloped a little so that water doesn't collect), and the architecture is plain. By some standards, the place is drab an unimaginative. By other standards-githzerai standards-it's a little slice of home. An ancient githzerai woman named Divin Anesh (Pl/~ githzerai/M 10/ Athar/LN) living in the Court's said to be the high-up. Apparently, nobody makes a move in the neighbourhood without her, and all githzerai in the city pay their respects to her (or at least they should). Surprisingly close to Darkwell Court is Khaasta Row. Creatively named, a number of khaasta have taken up residence on this short street. Since most folks don't twig to these lizard-men (some cutters have a problem with raiding and kidnapping), they hole up in this tiny slum and keep mostly to themselves. A bunch of primes from the world of Athas have settled a small section of the Hive that they call New Tyr. Most of these bashers possess rough qualities and excel in fighting and survival skills. Most don't like githzerai or githyanki, either, so canny members of either race stay far away. Refugees from a dying prime-material world called Ranais settled in the Lower Ward centuries ago, but the neighbourhood, called Goatswood, has since shifted into the Hive with the ever-changing borders and definitions of the two wards. These folks are fairly good natured as well as long-suffering, making the squat a friendly one-particularly by Hive standards. LIVING IN THE HIVE WARD:
Might makes right in the Hive. Personal power and toughness overshadow all else-politics, jink, information, or even belief. But like anything else, toughness- is a commodity. A basher can buy the right weapon, trade for the best spells, or hire out his trained sword-arm. Might is the currency that people trade in here-in fact, bloods looking for the best mercenaries or the strongest guards come to the Hive. With might comes two other important components to success in the Hive. A good head on a cutter's shoulders is one, and a good healthy dose of fear is the other. Nowhere in the Cage do the Clueless last a shorter length of time than here. Ironically, a lot of portals to the Prime Material Plane are located in these slums. Canny bashers learn quickly what's what and who's who in the Hive. This information is one of the keys for survival in Sigil's slum. But fear? Powerful bloods don't fear anything, right? Wrong. Folks who live in the Hive know that somewhere maybe just behind that crumbling wall over there-lurks something more powerful than them. Knowing where not to go, when to run, and who not to disturb may have been learned out fear, but most bloods maintain that such knowledge ranks right up there with knowing their own name in importance. The Hive weeds out traits like overconfidence and bluster through something akin to natural selection. Day-to-day life in the Hive remains rather dreary. Most of the sods living here spend their time simply trying to remain alive-looking for food, procuring jink, and fending off enemies. The lucky few hang on to their jobs as best they can, while the others operate as scavengers in an urban wilderness. Few bashers stop to wigwag on the street. No one looks for beauty or grandeur-luxury here is a full belly. The Hivers socialize behind dosed doors in dimly lit and poorly ventilated taverns where the bub is cheap and the mood is dark. Even the toughest bashers from outside the Hive find such places rough. The night's entertainment could proffer a fight to the death or merely some bawdy tales, but a body never knows. With the recent talk of a "babble fever," though, many Hive residents keep their distance from their fellows for fear of contagion. Babble fever is the name given by locals to a plague making its way through the Hive. Bashers say that the disease renders a sod into a blathering idiot who can't shut his bone-box before it sends him on a winding, painful path to the dead-book. It's not a good way to die by anyone's reckoning, even-it's said-by the Dustmen. The Hardheads patrol the Hive occasionally, but a body's actually more likely to find a group of Mercykillers hunting criminals here. "We see eye to eye with people in the Hive," one Red Death member relates, "because they understand that if you do wrong, you pay. No courts, no arguments, just punishment. Justice." Nevertheless, only a fool or a barmy would really expect justice in the Hive-even the Mercykiller patrols are rare. Survival of the fittest remains the closest thing to justice most folks see. So really, the cross-traders and other criminals have no fear of "getting scragged." In fact, in the Hive, most folks don't think in terms of criminals and laws. A body does what he needs to do in order to get by. Any hesitation comes from the thought of retribution from the berk he's bobbed, not the law that may catch up with him later. Still, joy is not unknown in the Hive, and neither is laughter. Cagers are a tough lot, and the Hivers are the toughest. UNDERSIGIL:
THE DABUS WARRENS:
When folks refer to the Dabus Warrens, they're talking about the mysterious places where the dabus go below Sigil's streets, not the tunnels they use to travel there. The distinction is important, because a body can walk down into the tunnels. They make up most of the known area down below. However, nobody follows the dabus into their own cases. Their little hidey-holes, cathedrals, plazas, or whatever they are remain inaccessible to nondabus-if they exist at all. Most people assume that the dabus live somewhere. They certainly vanish down into the tunnels once they're done with their work, and a body'd assume that means they're going home, or going back to their headquarters, or their base, or whatever it is that they have. And if they weren't going somewhere secret, why won't they let folks follow them? Of course, as always, folks have different theories. As said before, Cagers like talking about UnderSigil, so there's lots of chant (and screed) to be heard about it. Maybe the dabus disappear through hidden portals in the catacombs that lead to their secret, other planar homes. Maybe they protect their warrens with powerful magic so that only they can find their way. Maybe they go down into the catacombs to the hidden sanctuary of the Lady herself, and it's her will that keeps other berks out. It's all just speculation when it comes to the dark of these bashers. It's true though that explorers in the tunnels under the city often suddenly come upon a dabus on its way back up or as it comes down. Following always leads into the blinds, but it sure makes a body wonder. TRAVELING UNDERGROUND:
Now, why folks would want to go into the Realm Below is their problem. Some bashers like to poke around in strange places, while others might have a need forced upon them by circumstance (if a Mercykiller's quarry goes down below, then the cutter's probably going to follow). A hasher's first step to exploring the catacombs under Sigil entails figuring out how to get there. Fact is, it's not too difficult. There're more entrances than a body might think. The easiest entrance, although not the most pleasant, lies through the sewers. Explorers willing to wade through the muck and sewage don't have to wander too far (a few hours is usually enough) before they come upon a mysterious passage or even a door leading away from the drainage tunnels and into the labyrinths. These passages usually lead down pretty fast-a good indication that a body's entering the catacombs. RATS:
'Course, a cutter wandering around in the sewers has a good chance of running into other unpleasantness beyond just dirty water and filth. Like any sewer, Sigil's drainage system is a home for rats and other foul vermin. In the Cage, however, a pack of rats might be able to warp a sod's mind as easily as swarm over him with vicious little bites. That's because Cager rats sometimes tum out to be cranium rats, which are much, much more dangerous than normal rats (even the big ones that grow as large as dogs). Folks who've wandered through the sewers and through the labyrinths tell chilling tales of tiny underground kingdoms ruled by vast networks of cranium rats. No one knows much about them, but sometimes whispers circulate about four different groups of the creatures called the Four Great Minds. These groups war with each other and work at cross purposes, sometimes utilizing mind-shackled slaves to attack or thwart the others. Sewer rats in Sigil have big, bipedal cousins known as wererats. They also travel through the sewers, but they have their own warrenlike tunnels as well. (And here's a warning to those who might enter their kips-wererats love nasty, deadly little traps, usually involving terribly sharp spikes, blades, and poison.) Chant has it that most live in and around the Ditch (many tiny passages extend from the sides of the Ditch into the Realm Below) under the thumb of a shadow fiend named Tattershade. They can be found elsewhere, though, and are known to kidnap children and helpless sods, dragging them down below with hopes of ransom. If that doesn't work, the victim usually becomes a meal-so either way, the wererats win. DEAD AND DARKERS:
Slipping through an old crypt is another way into the labyrinths. To many, this path is even more distasteful than traveling into the sewers. Crypts aren't all that common in the Cage, since most folks don't bury their dead here. The Dustmen cart them away, or else the Dead take the dead through a portal and bury them someplace nice. Some people like to keep their dead nearby, though (who knows why?) and so they dig down below their cases and put them in shut-up rooms below the streets. Sometimes the diggers run into the catacombs already in place and a new connection is made. Sometimes, though, things in the catacombs dig their way up into the crypt. It's a little-known fact that ghouls live below the streets in certain wards (the Hive and the Lower Ward have the worst infestations). It's an even lesser-known fact that these ghouls aren't the undead kind. These poor, raving souls that look, smell, and fight like ghouls are really living sods who've developed a taste for corpse flesh. Ghouls aren't the only worry for a basher who defiles some deader's crypt. Lots of the places are cursed, sending tomb raiders (or just those passing through) to the deadbook in the most horrible manner. Peery berks put traps and wards on their tombs as well, and of course, some are said to be haunted by deaders who just don't want to leave. Lucky bloods find entrances to the labyrinths that aren't so dangerous. For example, the Twelve Factols, a tavern in The Lady's Ward, offers access to the catacombs. The Gurincraag neighborhood in the Lower Ward is rumouredto have numerous entrances to UnderSigil. Many ruined buildings, particularly those found in the Hive, act as fronts for entrances into the catacombs (like the Bones of the Night by the Ditch). Folks called darkers sometimes maintain these street-level egresses. Darkers live in the Realm Below by choice. Criminals, madmen, or just folks with nowhere else to live, these people have adapted completely to an underground lifestyle, coming up only at night to scavenge, steal, or sometimes just to spy on those living "the old way, tt as they put it. Some never come up, living out their entire lives belowground. Darkers hate intruders from above. Those with a criminal bent fear retribution from authorities. (In fact, their fears carry a certain amount of validity, since the Harmonium has been known to ruthlessly purge underground areas suspected of harbouring criminals.) Others just resent and fear folks who can live "up there." Their communities usually comprise only a few dozen souls, but some of the largest hold hundreds of individuals. Darkers keep their own mysterious sets of laws, codes, and manners, and have even developed their own cant. 'Course, even among these outcasts, there are outcasts-some of whom have become monsters that prey upon the darkers themselves. DUNGEONS AND...WELL, MONSTERS, ANYWAY:
The Realm Below essentially exists as a network of interconnected tunnels and chambers. Because Sigil ain't what a body might call "natural," there are no native caverns or anything like them. Everything was put there for a reason by somebody, although the reason and the somebody might both be long gone and completely forgotten. The upper levels include the sewers, crypts, and dungeons directly underneath the streets and buildings above. (Supposedly, a lot of the High Houses in The Lady's Ward harbour deep and extensive dungeons underneath them to hold prisoners, slaves, and Lady-knows-what-else.) The dabus tunnels, wererat passages, and narrow vermin warrens connect them all and extend downward. The darkers live in lower areas branching off from these passages, in tunnels of their own making or in old, forgotten avenues created for long-lost purposes. Would-be adventurers, treasure seekers, and monster slayers should keep in mind that hundreds of miles of underground tunnels (and connected chambers) fill the Realm Below, and most of them are empty. Those going down just to wander and see what there is to see quickly grow bored. Cutters are better off with a destination or a goal in mind. The tunnels usually don't grow much wider than 10 feet across, with much narrower passages found more often. There's never any light, ventilation is very bad, and unless a body's poking around the sewer or nearby passages, everything is very dry. The dust-choked air filling most tunnels decreases visibility, even for those who brought magical light-it makes for difficult breathing, too. Most folks find that down below they can only exert themselves to a degree about half of normal before they need to rest. Collapsing passages offer another danger. For whatever reason, Sigil's not always perfectly stable (greybeardsclaim it's got something to do with all the portals). "Cagequakes" occasionally shake things up on the street level. These events present a deadly threat to the catacomb dwellers. During a 'quake, falling debris inflicts 3d4 hp damage upon anyone in the affected underground area (saving throws versus breath weapon reduce damage by half, secure shelter reduces damage by half or to nothing with a successful saving throw). Thankfully, such events are rare and usually quite localized.
THE LADY'S WARD:
BUILDING AND STREETS: The grandest and most beautiful in Sigil. Palaces, grand avenues, and wide, clean streets. NPCs: The wealthy and their servants. The rich and powerful keep their lips tight, but their servants often know the secret comings and goings of their masters. The people of The Lady's Ward concern themselves with large issues and thus rarely possess any valuable information about minor matters such as individual crimes or the newest import -in the Market Ward. They'll know about shake-ups within the factions, major events on other planes, and sometimes news from the realms of various powers (the Temple District is particularly good for such chant). Although all races are represented, player characters are unlikely to come upon fiends or the more monstrous creatures of the planes. The Lady's Ward also has the fewest number of tiefling residents of any ward. Humans, half-elves, elves, genasi, aasimar, and bariaur make up most of the population-in that order. Priests are a common sight, but thieves-at least petty street thieves are very rare. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: High on both counts. The folks who live here can and will pay for the best. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The City Barracks holds the largest force of Harmonium guardsmen in the city. THE LOWER WARD:
BUILDINGS AND STREETS: Large tenements with sweeping, spiky roofs and bizarre, baroque complexes mixed in with common-looking village houses and buildings resembling those found on any _prime world. The Lower Ward sets the standard for the Sigil mishmash of architecture. Most of the narrow and winding streets are quite safe during the day. Canny bashers don't go out much at night, however. NPCs: The common folk live here-the people who. Live by the sweat of their brows, the strength of their backs, and the skill of their hands. They love to talk and trade information, offering the best access to the latest rumours and secrets anywhere in the Cage. The Lower Ward gathers the greatest cross-section of racial types in the Cage. Though the mix leans toward the darker side (with all the portals to the Lower Planes), celestials as well as fiends walk the streets-as well' as everything in between. Githzerai, tieflings, and bariaur equal the ·number of humans, while elves, dwarves, gnomes, half-elves, modrons, and many other races are represented. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: Beyond the simple staples of life (basic foodstuffs, simplistic clothing, and so on), the Lower Ward offers little. Prices are low, though, and quality is high in regard to durability and practicality- low in terms of aesthetics or elegance. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Harmonium maintains a base near the Great Foundry on Alehouse Row to watch over the bubbers and troublemakers.
THE CLERK'S WARD:
BUILDING AND STREETS: Official structures and authoritative halls dominate the ward, while residential areas consist of either large expensive homes or vast tenementlike structures. Few small, individual homes are found here, though row upon row of small clerks' offices and accounting firms are common. The streets range the gamut from wide and sweeping to narrow and winding, but all are clean and fairly safe. NPCs: Administrative, sometimes bookish, folks live and work here. These folks work with numbers and words, not with tools-which means they're better educated than most Cagers. A few are quite wealthy, but most are not. Many Clerk's Ward residents have a mind-your-own-business approach to life, but sometimes a little garnish will loosen their tongues. The residents here know a lot of facts regarding the day-to-day grind in Sigil-who owes money to whom, who just applied for a permit for what, and information of that nature. The Clerk's Ward's populace comprises humans, bariaur, and some githzerai and tieflings. Other races are found here less frequently, while planars like celestials, fiends, slaadi, and their like stay away. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: There is little for sale here, and what can be found is overpriced and shoddy- although there are rare exceptions. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Fated maintains its own small enforcement arm, based in the Hall of Records. The Harmonium has a garrison next to the Hall of Speakers. THE MARKET WARD:
BUILDING AND STREETS: Though visitors might see streets filled with rows of shops of every imaginable type, the typical architectural archetype in this ward tends to open markets filled with stalls, stands, carts, and booths brimming over with product. Although the streets are safe against physical harm, smart bashers keep a peery eye out for pickpockets. NPCs: Merchants. Period. The Market Ward is a good place to introduce the vast range of Cager merchants, from haughty import kings to lowly peddlers and everyone in between. Although most like to chat over purchase, folks here are more interested in money and products than information. Nevertheless, many of the traveling merchants in this ward carry with them news of other planes and worlds. Since everybody needs to buy something sometime, every type of basher in the multiverse can be found here at some point. Some folks come to Sigil for no other reason than to shop the Great Bazaar for its incredible selection and availability of goods. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: Obviously, in a place like the Market Ward, quality and price can vary considerably. Those who want to pay less can either hunt for bargains or settle for less-durable, lower-quality merchandise (but sometimes a body doesn't need anything better). On the other hand, those willing to pay a bit more can find an "improved" or "advanced" version of virtually any item. Overall, prices of common items are slightly lower than average due to the great availability, but bargain- hunters should remember that a body gets what he pays for. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Free League attempts to keep the Harmonium out of the Grand Bazaar, but the Hardheads still maintain a garrison on Copperman Way.
BUILDING AND STREETS: The grandest and most beautiful in Sigil. Palaces, grand avenues, and wide, clean streets. NPCs: The wealthy and their servants. The rich and powerful keep their lips tight, but their servants often know the secret comings and goings of their masters. The people of The Lady's Ward concern themselves with large issues and thus rarely possess any valuable information about minor matters such as individual crimes or the newest import -in the Market Ward. They'll know about shake-ups within the factions, major events on other planes, and sometimes news from the realms of various powers (the Temple District is particularly good for such chant). Although all races are represented, player characters are unlikely to come upon fiends or the more monstrous creatures of the planes. The Lady's Ward also has the fewest number of tiefling residents of any ward. Humans, half-elves, elves, genasi, aasimar, and bariaur make up most of the population-in that order. Priests are a common sight, but thieves-at least petty street thieves are very rare. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: High on both counts. The folks who live here can and will pay for the best. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The City Barracks holds the largest force of Harmonium guardsmen in the city. THE LOWER WARD:
BUILDINGS AND STREETS: Large tenements with sweeping, spiky roofs and bizarre, baroque complexes mixed in with common-looking village houses and buildings resembling those found on any _prime world. The Lower Ward sets the standard for the Sigil mishmash of architecture. Most of the narrow and winding streets are quite safe during the day. Canny bashers don't go out much at night, however. NPCs: The common folk live here-the people who. Live by the sweat of their brows, the strength of their backs, and the skill of their hands. They love to talk and trade information, offering the best access to the latest rumours and secrets anywhere in the Cage. The Lower Ward gathers the greatest cross-section of racial types in the Cage. Though the mix leans toward the darker side (with all the portals to the Lower Planes), celestials as well as fiends walk the streets-as well' as everything in between. Githzerai, tieflings, and bariaur equal the ·number of humans, while elves, dwarves, gnomes, half-elves, modrons, and many other races are represented. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: Beyond the simple staples of life (basic foodstuffs, simplistic clothing, and so on), the Lower Ward offers little. Prices are low, though, and quality is high in regard to durability and practicality- low in terms of aesthetics or elegance. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Harmonium maintains a base near the Great Foundry on Alehouse Row to watch over the bubbers and troublemakers.
Type
Dimensional plane
Location under
Included Organizations
Owner/Ruler
Characters in Location
Related Reports (Primary)
Related Reports (Secondary)
Inhabiting Species
BUILDING AND STREETS: Official structures and authoritative halls dominate the ward, while residential areas consist of either large expensive homes or vast tenementlike structures. Few small, individual homes are found here, though row upon row of small clerks' offices and accounting firms are common. The streets range the gamut from wide and sweeping to narrow and winding, but all are clean and fairly safe. NPCs: Administrative, sometimes bookish, folks live and work here. These folks work with numbers and words, not with tools-which means they're better educated than most Cagers. A few are quite wealthy, but most are not. Many Clerk's Ward residents have a mind-your-own-business approach to life, but sometimes a little garnish will loosen their tongues. The residents here know a lot of facts regarding the day-to-day grind in Sigil-who owes money to whom, who just applied for a permit for what, and information of that nature. The Clerk's Ward's populace comprises humans, bariaur, and some githzerai and tieflings. Other races are found here less frequently, while planars like celestials, fiends, slaadi, and their like stay away. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: There is little for sale here, and what can be found is overpriced and shoddy- although there are rare exceptions. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Fated maintains its own small enforcement arm, based in the Hall of Records. The Harmonium has a garrison next to the Hall of Speakers. THE MARKET WARD:
BUILDING AND STREETS: Though visitors might see streets filled with rows of shops of every imaginable type, the typical architectural archetype in this ward tends to open markets filled with stalls, stands, carts, and booths brimming over with product. Although the streets are safe against physical harm, smart bashers keep a peery eye out for pickpockets. NPCs: Merchants. Period. The Market Ward is a good place to introduce the vast range of Cager merchants, from haughty import kings to lowly peddlers and everyone in between. Although most like to chat over purchase, folks here are more interested in money and products than information. Nevertheless, many of the traveling merchants in this ward carry with them news of other planes and worlds. Since everybody needs to buy something sometime, every type of basher in the multiverse can be found here at some point. Some folks come to Sigil for no other reason than to shop the Great Bazaar for its incredible selection and availability of goods. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: Obviously, in a place like the Market Ward, quality and price can vary considerably. Those who want to pay less can either hunt for bargains or settle for less-durable, lower-quality merchandise (but sometimes a body doesn't need anything better). On the other hand, those willing to pay a bit more can find an "improved" or "advanced" version of virtually any item. Overall, prices of common items are slightly lower than average due to the great availability, but bargain- hunters should remember that a body gets what he pays for. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Free League attempts to keep the Harmonium out of the Grand Bazaar, but the Hardheads still maintain a garrison on Copperman Way.
BUILDING AND STREETS: This is the ultimate slum. The buildings here have either collapsed or are well on their way to ruin. Various kips have been cobbled together, but no one puts real effort into a Hive building because . nobody cares, and because everyone knows it won't last long anyway. The streets run down narrow and serpentine paths, with numerous alleyways and shadowed spots for gangs, muggers, and worse to wait in ambush. NPCs: The poor and the criminally inclined call kip in the Hive, but usually not by choice. Not everyone in the Hive is a criminal, but it's safer to not give the benefit of the doubt. Folks here focus their energies on survival, so if a basher wants information about something other than the general goings-on in the Hive, he should look elsewhere. The Hive is one of the few places in Sigil where humans aren't the major segment of the population. There're still a lot of humans in the Hive, but when a body adds together all the githzerai, tieflings, bariaur, halfelves, humanoids, fiends, and monstrous races, they seem insignificant. A player character's not likely to run across a celestial in the ward unless it's on some mercy mission. QUALITY AND PRICE OF GOODS: Low and low. There's little for sale here but junk scavenged or stolen from others by those desperate for a few coins. LOCATION OF AUTHORITIES: The Harmonium maintains two small bastions on either side of this sprawling ward, one in Ragpicker's Square (which is technically in the Lower Ward) and the other near the junction of Pride. and Stump street, just within the unofficial borders of the ward. Truth be told, however, the only authority in the Hive is a body's own might.
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