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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ripzerai" data-source="post: 3594098" data-attributes="member: 38324"><a href="http://www.planewalker.com/entry.php?intEntryID=10929" target="_blank">This story</a> might be inspirationally weird. Here's some descriptive parts:When thinking about Sigil, think if the City of Dis, think of Graz'zt's cities in Azzagrat - chittering imps and gremlins crouching in the shadows, laughing hideously and warring with the mephits, gambling houses where you can sell your soul, decadent brothels that provide only pain, abattoirs that exist only to grind humanoids into meat. Think, also, of Yetsirah and the other bright and shining cities of the heavens, soaring towers made of celestial silver, the air filled with angelic harmonies, palaces made of light joined by rainbow bridges. Now let the silver tarnish as the towers are placed right among the abattoirs, the imps and the filth. Now add some mortal things: hivelike buildings of clay like something built 10,000 years ago in a neolithic desert; the ghettos and alchemists of Prague, the spires of Moscow, the sewers of Lankhmar, the dungeons of Undermountain and Skullport; Greyhawk and Sharn and Freeport and London, Constantinople and Carthage, Rome, Tenochtitlan, and Cathay. Add some fantastic things: glamorous ambassadors from the Seelie Court, sentient bipedal, clock-carrying rabbits delivering messages from the Queen of Hearts on one world to the White Queen on another; janni and azer and psurlons, fire elemental artists and goblin wizards, disguised slaadi, well-behaved illithids, neogi thieves, ice paraelemental pirates, githzerai street gangs, stately and elegant minotaurs venturing into Sigil from their island maze-cities, Norse giants, bureaucratic oni from the Chinese pantheon, demonic scarecrows warring with kenku, a cowardly leoine shifter dancing with a warforged woodsman, a human girl, and her little dog, too. Lost petitioners, exiled valkyries, and spirits of the ancient dead.Emphasize the specifically Sigilian things: the blades and spikes, the stinking Ditch, the light-boys, factotums, and touts; the razorvine and dabus; the executioner ravens and Aoskian hounds; the sedan chairs and tentacled Arcadian ponies; wild theories about the existence or nonexistence of the Lady of Pain; the Collectors scraping corpses out of gutters for a pittance; the signs offering bounties for cranium rats. Of course, the portals, and those selling keys to them and rumors of keys to them. Everywhere, philosophy, dirty metaphysics and improbable faiths; Sigil is a town where philosophy is treasured more than gold. Never forget that. The people eat and breathe belief, often literally; new ideas are things to be fought over with blood and steel, to be stolen and hoarded, to be passionately debated and used to bind the hearts and minds of thousands. Sigil is a city of philosophers with clubs, both before and after the Faction War. Their philosophies are more than half-mad most of the time, but they know that all belief is power - that belief changes reality and determines the fate of gods and souls. This is more true in the Outer Planes than anywhere else, and Sigil is the gateway to it all.</blockquote>

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