Why I dislike Sigil and the Lady of Pain

[Shemeska]

We are never told opnely that the Lady is unilaterally more powerful than the gods, it's only inferred from her ability to keep them out of Sigil. But occam's razor doesn't always lead you to the right conclusion. Sigil may just afford her that one trump card that prevents her from having to confront any gods.

It was the story of Aoskar the now dead god of portals and planewalking that really brings home the idea that the Lady is on some level more powerful than a god. But Prince Levistus isn't a god and he forcibly shrank the size of the deity Set's domain (which is inside of Levistus's layer of Hell). It might be something like a home field advantage. Her Serenity might be utterly powerless outside of Sigil, we just don't know.

Here's a little something related to deities wanting to get inside of Sigil, and ways The Lady handles the issue rather than simply blocking them entry.

[sblock]And I'm suddenly taken by the picture of an elderly barmy huddled under a makeshift shelter in the Hive, clutching a blanket around his shoulders against the faintly acidic rain, rocking back and forth with a wild look in his eyes.

A group of tieflings wanders past and they hear him muttering to himself, "Almost time almost time almost time... cannot call them back before it's time... not yet not yet not yet..."

One of them pauses and against better judgement leans in and asks the poor old fool what he's talking about. The old barmy gets a wild gleam in his eyes and works himself into a fit. "I'm a god you know! I'm a god! When She's not watching, I'll make Her pay! You'll see! Just you wait!"

The tieflings laugh at the tramp and leave him sitting there in the rain, still muttering to himself, lost in his own delusions. A block away as they wander into the Bottle and Jug, away from the rain, one of the tiefers recalls something his grandfather told him years before about a crazy man just like the one they'd seen, a crazy old man that he'd seen, and his grandfather before him had seen. A thousand years had passed since that nameless man entered Sigil with dreams of power and glory, needing only to wait for the moment that Her Serenity no longer watched him, needing only to wait to call to his proxies to return his divinity and restore him to his deific glory.

A thousand years had passed, and so had his proxies. One by one they'd abandoned their god, taking his divinity for themselves, or delivering it to other rival gods, some even selling it like the choice sweetbreads of infants to any archfiends willing to pay for the chance to dine on the fragments of divinity. A thousand years had passed and he had nothing left but the eager hope of toppling The Lady, but oh he had to wait, he had to wait until the time was right, and then he would be the victor.

You see, not all Mazes are physical things. Not all Mazes are imposed from without.[/sblock]

 

[Shadeydm]

Here's a little something related to deities wanting to get inside of Sigil, and ways The Lady handles the issue rather than simply blocking them entry.

[sblock]And I'm suddenly taken by the picture of an elderly barmy huddled under a makeshift shelter in the Hive, clutching a blanket around his shoulders against the faintly acidic rain, rocking back and forth with a wild look in his eyes.

A group of tieflings wanders past and they hear him muttering to himself, "Almost time almost time almost time... cannot call them back before it's time... not yet not yet not yet..."

One of them pauses and against better judgement leans in and asks the poor old fool what he's talking about. The old barmy gets a wild gleam in his eyes and works himself into a fit. "I'm a god you know! I'm a god! When She's not watching, I'll make Her pay! You'll see! Just you wait!"

The tieflings laugh at the tramp and leave him sitting there in the rain, still muttering to himself, lost in his own delusions. A block away as they wander into the Bottle and Jug, away from the rain, one of the tiefers recalls something his grandfather told him years before about a crazy man just like the one they'd seen, a crazy old man that he'd seen, and his grandfather before him had seen. A thousand years had passed since that nameless man entered Sigil with dreams of power and glory, needing only to wait for the moment that Her Serenity no longer watched him, needing only to wait to call to his proxies to return his divinity and restore him to his deific glory.

A thousand years had passed, and so had his proxies. One by one they'd abandoned their god, taking his divinity for themselves, or delivering it to other rival gods, some even selling it like the choice sweetbreads of infants to any archfiends willing to pay for the chance to dine on the fragments of divinity. A thousand years had passed and he had nothing left but the eager hope of toppling The Lady, but oh he had to wait, he had to wait until the time was right, and then he would be the victor.

You see, not all Mazes are physical things. Not all Mazes are imposed from without.[/sblock]

Reading this further entrenched me in the I hate the lady of pain/worst example of lazy game designer fiat ever camp. I like the idea of the city of Doors but no thanks for the lop or the cant. no no no

 

[Incenjucar]

Reading this further entrenched me in the I hate the lady of pain/worst example of lazy game designer fiat ever camp. I like the idea of the city of Doors but no thanks for the lop or the cant. no no no

How is that lazy?

What is your definition of lazy?

Are orcs, goblins, elves, and dwarves lazy?

What would constitute not-lazy?

 

[Viking Bastard]

Here's a little something related to deities wanting to get inside of Sigil, and ways The Lady handles the issue rather than simply blocking them entry.

[sblock]And I'm suddenly taken by the picture of an elderly barmy huddled under a makeshift shelter in the Hive, clutching a blanket around his shoulders against the faintly acidic rain, rocking back and forth with a wild look in his eyes.

A group of tieflings wanders past and they hear him muttering to himself, "Almost time almost time almost time... cannot call them back before it's time... not yet not yet not yet..."

One of them pauses and against better judgement leans in and asks the poor old fool what he's talking about. The old barmy gets a wild gleam in his eyes and works himself into a fit. "I'm a god you know! I'm a god! When She's not watching, I'll make Her pay! You'll see! Just you wait!"

The tieflings laugh at the tramp and leave him sitting there in the rain, still muttering to himself, lost in his own delusions. A block away as they wander into the Bottle and Jug, away from the rain, one of the tiefers recalls something his grandfather told him years before about a crazy man just like the one they'd seen, a crazy old man that he'd seen, and his grandfather before him had seen. A thousand years had passed since that nameless man entered Sigil with dreams of power and glory, needing only to wait for the moment that Her Serenity no longer watched him, needing only to wait to call to his proxies to return his divinity and restore him to his deific glory.

A thousand years had passed, and so had his proxies. One by one they'd abandoned their god, taking his divinity for themselves, or delivering it to other rival gods, some even selling it like the choice sweetbreads of infants to any archfiends willing to pay for the chance to dine on the fragments of divinity. A thousand years had passed and he had nothing left but the eager hope of toppling The Lady, but oh he had to wait, he had to wait until the time was right, and then he would be the victor.

You see, not all Mazes are physical things. Not all Mazes are imposed from without.[/sblock]

Where is this from? I did something similar in my old PS game (and I suspect I yoinked it from somewhere):

A crazy old crone hung around at the PCs’ regular inn in Sigil. She sold information on the planes to passersby—good, sometimes life-saving info—but the information was vague and rambling and needed to be deciphered to be useful. She had been in Sigil as long as anybody remembered. She was paranoid and apparently delusional, always ranting about them and her; vague figures who stood in the way of her true self. She kept pets—mostly rats, cats and insects and, one time, a baby wyvern—who she would refer to as her subjects, her admirers, or as custodians of her power. There were many stories surrounding her: that she used to be a demon lord or a mighty witch who went bonkers, but it was still generally assumed she was just another barmy, just one who’d been there a while.

Long after the PCs first met the crazy lady, the PCs had to take the LoP temporarily out of commission* so they could sneak a dormant power through Sigil (as a part of a big honkin’ quest to take down the usurper of the dormant power’s domain). The LoP was placed out of sync with Sigil for one hour and the place went nuts; portals would randomly open and close and suddenly every berk with a connection to divine powers seemed to double in levels.

And the crazy lady was suddenly revealed to be an ancient demon goddess who’d snuck into Sigil in mortal form eons ago. Her plan was to go godly as soon as the opportunity to take over Sigil presented itself but that moment never came. She slowly went crazy—her mortal form degraded over the thousands of years, but she could never die or it would release her power.

Her religion was long forgotten and she was but a faint whisper of what she once was, but she was still a force to be reckoned with: she was gigantic, rampaging around the city in her terrible but awesome form. She knew she didn’t have the power to control Sigil, but she could break the cage that had held her.

The PCs felt responsible and decided that one PC would split from the party and finish the mission while the other three stayed behind and deal with the goddess situation. They could not defeat the goddess, but they were able to delay her long enough for LoP to return and throw her out. Then she mazed the PCs.


* The solution IIRC was an ancient hymn, composed on a prime material world to stop an ancient evil power. It could only be sung once, for the multiverse would adapt. Sadly, the hymn could not be sung in time to save the world (that was now an apocalyptic wasteland), because the ancient evil forbade sound.​

And that’s why I love Planescape. YMMV.

 

[Quickleaf]

[MENTION=509]Viking Bastard[/MENTION]
And then? Inquiring minds want to know what happened to your mazed PCs?

 

[Shemeska]

Where is this from?

I wrote it around two years ago as a random messageboard post either on Planewalker or the WotC boards. I don't particularly recall which board exactly, but it was just a little random bit of response fiction to some thread there.

 

[Viking Bastard]

[MENTION=509]Viking Bastard[/MENTION]
And then? Inquiring minds want to know what happened to your mazed PCs?

I ran them through the maze in Planescape: Torment. One of the players had played the game and caught on pretty fast. So. Heh. They finished the Lady of Pain's perplexing maze in record speed. Best laid plans and all.

The PCs exited the maze into the Outlands and wanted to return to their friend, but they did not dare go back through Sigil. The PC that had escaped Sigil with the trinket got it into the right hands, a band of renegade priests. The priests were able to harness the dormant power's power to summon the other PCs. (I just wanted to keep the story running.)

The usurper was defeated and the plane's true power restored. The PCs went on to wander the planes and did eventually return to Sigil.

 

[erleni]

It was the story of Aoskar the now dead god of portals and planewalking that really brings home the idea that the Lady is on some level more powerful than a god. But Prince Levistus isn't a god and he forcibly shrank the size of the deity Set's domain (which is inside of Levistus's layer of Hell). It might be something like a home field advantage. Her Serenity might be utterly powerless outside of Sigil, we just don't know.

Here's a little something related to deities wanting to get inside of Sigil, and ways The Lady handles the issue rather than simply blocking them entry.

[sblock]And I'm suddenly taken by the picture of an elderly barmy huddled under a makeshift shelter in the Hive, clutching a blanket around his shoulders against the faintly acidic rain, rocking back and forth with a wild look in his eyes.

A group of tieflings wanders past and they hear him muttering to himself, "Almost time almost time almost time... cannot call them back before it's time... not yet not yet not yet..."

One of them pauses and against better judgement leans in and asks the poor old fool what he's talking about. The old barmy gets a wild gleam in his eyes and works himself into a fit. "I'm a god you know! I'm a god! When She's not watching, I'll make Her pay! You'll see! Just you wait!"

The tieflings laugh at the tramp and leave him sitting there in the rain, still muttering to himself, lost in his own delusions. A block away as they wander into the Bottle and Jug, away from the rain, one of the tiefers recalls something his grandfather told him years before about a crazy man just like the one they'd seen, a crazy old man that he'd seen, and his grandfather before him had seen. A thousand years had passed since that nameless man entered Sigil with dreams of power and glory, needing only to wait for the moment that Her Serenity no longer watched him, needing only to wait to call to his proxies to return his divinity and restore him to his deific glory.

A thousand years had passed, and so had his proxies. One by one they'd abandoned their god, taking his divinity for themselves, or delivering it to other rival gods, some even selling it like the choice sweetbreads of infants to any archfiends willing to pay for the chance to dine on the fragments of divinity. A thousand years had passed and he had nothing left but the eager hope of toppling The Lady, but oh he had to wait, he had to wait until the time was right, and then he would be the victor.

You see, not all Mazes are physical things. Not all Mazes are imposed from without.[/sblock]

That's the magic of Planescape. Like Orcus walking through the Planes disguised as Thanatos, driven mad by the Last Word and looking for his wand, while in the meantime slaying gods left and right in their own realms.

 

[TerraDave]

I am so use to bending and breaking D&D tropes that Merrics concerns kind of surprised me. In that context, have the LoP die, be some sort of collective or organization, or better yet, do the Wizard of Oz thing and have it all be a front with a whacky punchline. (on the other hand, the "supperficial" elements of Sigal can come across as very anoying, but I think you could also have fun with them).

 

[pemerton]

The whole Philosophers with clubs idea was very realistic once you know a little bit of the history of philosophy in Greece.

I know a little bit of the history of philosophy in Greece. I'm a professional philosopher (although I work in modern, not classical, philosophy).

As I stated upthread, my problem with the factions is not that they have clubs, but that they're not doing philosophy - that is, they don't seem to be motivated by (prima facie, tenable if not conlcusive) reasons.

The OP doesn't explain what's wrong with atheism being an option. It's just another thing he doesn't like. Seems like aetheism doesn't need a place like Sigil to flourish if the aetheism is interrupted as rejecting the notion that gods deserve to be worshipped. I've played plenty of characters that wanted nothing to do with the gods.

I think it's kind of essential for a cosmological mash-up to have gods that are not all-powerful, especially if Philosophy is one of the defining pillars of the setting, since you want people to be able to doubt and question them, rebel against them, pronounce them dead, compare and contrast them, ignore and defy them, or believe in them for reasons beyond "He is big and shoots lightning and can kill things and lives in a paradise far away."

<snip>

the gods, while very powerful, are ultimately nothing special. Part of that bag is the use of philosophies as a core element -- you want to include characters who are inspired by fantastical takes on ideas of right and wrong and life and death beyond the simple animal awe. You want to have characters who can spout Buddhism and Nietzsche, and that requires a different take on the nature of the gods.

<snip>

Why do gods have to be that powerful?

<snip>

Why can't the gods -- in certain settings -- be petty, vulnerable, and small-minded?

Personally, I don't see a lot of resemblance between the Planescape factions and Buddhism or Nietzschianism. But putting that to one side, I can see why you might want to downplay the gods in a certain sort of fiction - it's central to REH's Conan, or Lovecraft, for example, that the "gods" are not really GODS.

I can't speak for Merric, but I personally find this incompatible with D&D as it is presented in its core rulebooks, and particularly the existence of clerics and paladins. Because if the source of divine power isn't divinity, but merely superhuman otherworldly beings, than a cleric is no different from a warlock wearing a mitre. (Which, of course, works perfectly in Conan!)

For divinity to be genuinely divinity, than the gods have to merit worship - genuine worship, not just admiration because of their power. Which is to say, that they must be creators or sustainers of being and value in some fairly fundamental sense. To doubt this, it seems to me, is to doubt the existence of the divine power source. Which verges on being incoherent, given the way the game mechanics are set up.

Why can't clerics believe in their deity not because he's the biggest, strongest thing around, but because he represents something the cleric feels is sacred on a level that suffuses the entire multiverse, rather than just the little island where that god is worshiped?

In that case, though, you wouldn't really be worshipping the god, would you? The god would bear the same sort of relationship to the thing/principle being worshipped as does Christ to divinity on the Arian account of Chrit's nature.