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DUNGEON MASTER'S
GUIDE

Planescape
Campaign Setting
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 PLANESCAPE
CAMPAIGN SETTING
D&D 3.5

DUNGEON MASTER'S
GUIDE
INDEX
Page

Introduction
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Chapter 6: 6
Life in the Multiverse
Chapter 7: 59
Sigil
Chapter 8: 139
The Planes and Beyond
Chapter 9: 271
The DM's Dark

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 Introduction
There hardly seem any words capable of expressing the years of hard work and devotion that brings this book
to you today, so I will simply begin with “Welcome to the planes”. Let this book be your doorway and guide to
the multiverse, a place of untold mysteries, wonders the likes of which are only spoken of in legend, and
adventurers that take you from the lowest depths of Hell to the highest reaches of Heaven. Here in you will
leave behind the confines and trappings of a single world in order to embrace the potential of infinity and the
ability to travel wherever you please. All roads lie open to planewalkers brave enough to explore the
multiverse, and soon you will be facing wonders no ordinary adventure could encompass.

Consider this a step forward in your gaming development as well, for here we look beyond tales of simple
dungeon crawling to the concepts and forces that move worlds, make gods, and give each of us something to
live for. The struggles that define existence and bring opposing worlds together will be laid out before you so
that you may choose how to shape conflicts that touch millions of lives. Even when the line between good and
evil, lawful and chaotic, is as clear as the boundaries between neighboring planes, nothing is black and white,
with dark tyrants and benevolent kings joining forces to stop the spread of anarchy, or noble and peasant
sitting together in the same hall to discuss shared philosophy. On the planes, neither sword nor spell is the
greatest weapon to be held, but knowledge and belief the paths to power and influence. Keep these words
central in your mind as your characters explore the multiverse and you’ll be entreated to an experience unlike
anything Dungeons & Dragons has brought you before.

My thanks for listening to an old fan rant, and welcome to the Planescape Campaign Setting.

Using This Book

This book is broken down into nine chapters which each focus on a different aspect of the setting. Chapters 1-
5 consist of rules and background information useful for creating Planescape player characters, while
Chapters 6-8 provide extensive details about the planes written from an in-character perspective in the unique
dialect of planars. Chapter 9 is for the DM's eyes only.

Chapter 1: Introduction describes the Planescape Campaign Setting, including the history and themes of
Planescape, and a description of the cosmology itself.

Chapter 2: Characters and Races lists the 17 standard Planescape races as well monstrous races, prestige
races, languages, home planes, and character regions.

Chapter 3: Factions introduces the 16 major factions of the multiverse, including their history and a detailed
description of each group. This chapter also explains everything a player needs to know about being a
factioner and using the material found in Chapter 4.

Chapter 4: Skills and Feat contains updated and additional skills for a Planescape campaign. It also has well
over 100 new regional and faction feats, with about nine feats per faction alone.

Chapter 5: Magic on the Planes provides information on an essential element of the multiverse and how it
can operate in a number of different ways. Some new types of magic as well as spells specific to planar life or
the factions themselves are found here.

Chapter 6: Life in the Multiverse has a wealth of information about the planes and those who live in them,
including methods of travel, culture and attitudes, as well as some planar
merchandise.

Chapter 7: Sigil provides players and DMs a complete guide to Sigil, a central metropolis in the multiverse
and the main city for many Planescape games. This chapter is intended for planar characters who should be
familiar with the City of Doors, and provides an extensive account of the city that can be used to run games
entirely within Sigil.

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Chapter 8: The Planes and Beyond is an in-depth look at the cosmology of the multiverse, mirroring
information in the Dungeon Master's Guide while providing a Planescape spin. This chapter gives players of
planar characters everything they need to know about the planes.

Chapter 9: The DM's Dark offers advise for running Planescape games, background and plot information that
players should not know but DMs may find useful, as well as tips for customizing the setting to your liking.

What You Need and What You Can Use

The Planescape Campaign Setting requires use of the Player’s Handbook v.3.5, Dungeon Master’s Guide
v.3.5, and Monster Manual v.3.5. The 3.0E core rulebooks can be used instead with only minor alterations.
The Planar Handbook is also highly recommended, though some material in that supplement may be ignored
or superseded by Planescape material. Furthermore, the setting incorporates psionics and the Expanded
Psionics Handbook may be used as well. Variant rules are provided for those who do not wish to include
psionics.

Relatively unique to the Planescape Campaign Setting is that it attempts to integrate other campaign settings
into its cosmology. In the days of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons each of the campaign worlds was
mentioned and taken into consideration as to how it interacted with the Planescape cosmology. While this
project will by no means attempt to coalesce the disparate products published under the D20 license, we
continue to encourage DMs and players to introduce as many races and cultures, forms of magic and religion,
worlds and cosmologies as they see fit. Planescape remains an open setting and can be easily expanded to
include just about any other material. Chapter 9 provides advise for the DM as how to integrate elements from
other products.

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 Chapter 6:
Life in the Multiverse
Jordel walked up to the stall, noticeably awed by the assorted wares that practically spilled off the long,
wooden table. The Great Bazaar was like everything else here – completely overwhelming. But the smiling
merchant behind the counter looked human. Jordel’s eyes flicked over the objects for sale for a few
moments, until the merchant spoke up.

“Yer new in these parts, friend.”

Jordel looked up from the colorful blanket he had been inspecting. He stammered, “H-how can you tell?”

“Don’t worry, friend. Nothing wrong with it. Yer hardly the first to step through the wrong doorway. Ye’ve got
that certain look about you.”

Jordel furrowed his brow; he was reticent to get into conversations here. The cant was confusing, and he’d
had enough of being called “clueless” for his ignorance. This merchant seemed friendly enough, but then,
that was part of his trade, wasn’t it?

“Here, this is what you want.” The merchant handed him a silver object, shaped like a silver star with a
somber face. “That there’s a mimir, it’ll answer yer questions. A bargain indeed at 2,000 gold. Contains the
notes of many a graybeard, compiled by the infamous Nizsab. Err, Sabzin. No, that’s not it…”

Jordel rubbed his finger over the curious object, only for it to suddenly shack and spring from his hand. The
mimir hovered in the air staring straight at him, the graven lips speaking…

“Races of every shape and size, factions and deities struggling for the belief of billions, planes filled with
wonders and dangers the likes of which cannot be imagined stretching out for eternity. Yep, the multiverse is
an exciting place, no doubt about it, cutter. Of course, that bare description hardly does life on the planes
justice. A blood needs to know quite a bit more about how things tend to work if they’re going to live long as a
planewalker. Even though each plane has its own properties and diverse cultures, a canny cutter can make
do by parking his ears close to those who know the dark
of things. Translation: listen up, berk! Contain herein is
the knowledge and wisdom of some of the greatest minds
the plane has to offer, without the usual screed you’re
going to find in some bar or faction hall. I’ve spent many
a exploring every path the planes has to offer; now it’s
your turn!

Time & History

Orfizal Palengras

Don’t you shove that accursed mimir in my face! I

shouldn’t be kept from my work. The Unfinished Book
certainly won’t complete itself. Every second lost is one I
may never get back. Who knows what matters of import
will have passed by, and I won’t have been there to
record them! It is no small thing to be tasked with writing
the history of the infinite planes, I shouldn’t need to tell
you.

Indeed, I owe you a boon, and so I will spare a moment to

dole out scraps of wisdom for those who have the wits to
listen. But get it down the first time; I shan’t be repeating
myself for your little talking bauble.

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It should come as no surprise that most planars can’t be bothered to keep track of time, at least not in the
way primes do. It certainly is harder without stars in the sky, changing seasons, or even day and night. While
a plane might have one of these features, it’ll rarely have all of them. Even if it did, there’s no reason the time
in one region would match the time on different planes, layers, or even realms. And if the time of day is
difficult to measure, it’s nearly impossible to accurately count the months and years. So most planars don’t
bother. The past is left behind, only rarely recorded, and the multiverse goes on about its business. What is
passed on through the generations normally does so through stories and legends, or simply by asking
someone who was alive and present at the time. To be fair, what occurred centuries ago is recent memory for
some critters. But this is an imperfect, short-sighted method, and someday planars will regret not paying
attention. Then they’ll appreciate Orfizal and the Unfinished Book. Then they’ll come pounding on the door of
my study, hoping for a peak at the pages of the Book.

Ah, but let’s return to the matter at hand. Now doubt you want to know how folks manages to coexist without
some shared system. When planewalkers pay attention to the passage of time, they normally use Sigil
Standard Time (SST), based on that city’s cycle of light and darkness. Days in the Cage are twenty-four
hours long, with the twelfth hour called peak and the twenty-fourth hour antipeak, which are the brightest and
darkest periods respectively. It’s easiest to use on planes that have approximate days and nights, but many
planes keep a constant level of light or have none at all. Of course, with no mechanical means of tracking the
day, most planars just keep a general idea of how long an hour is, and that’s as official as it gets. So if a body
says he’ll meet you in a burg in two weeks, he might show up anywhere between twelve to sixteen days later,
and you’re expected to know that. It’s because of that sort of laziness that I no longer bother making
appointments. But it seems to work for less organized persons.

For longer periods, Cagers used to measure the year based off the time a particular factol came into power
(normally the Fraternity of Order’s, since they actually make some effort to record things). A few use the
turning of Mechanus’s gears, as a cutter could hardly find a more precise system than that. With the factions
banished from Sigil, Cagers have come to mark the year by how long it’s been since the war, making this the
5th year Post-Faction War (PFW). Other orders might base the year off the ascension of some power, or a
significant event for their pantheon, but most just use the Faction War as their marker. Make Sigil out to be
more important than it actually is? Sure does, but what do you expect from a city that considers itself to be
the center of everything?

The multiverse is old, far older than any Prime Material world, and even the oldest of the old don’t claim to
have been there in the beginning. Maybe the powers know how it all started, but if they do they’re not talking,
and planars have seen enough gods come and go to doubt any of the current powers have been around that
long. Reports on Sigil only go back to little over a thousand years ago, though most everyone figures the city
has been around much longer. The yugoloths claim to have records dating back to the early days of the
Lower Planes, but you’d have to be barmy to take their version of history at face value. Some cutters have
uncovered evidence of races and societies that preceded the exemplar of this age, and if something is older
than they are, there’s no telling what has come before. Most don’t care; today’s fights will always be more
important than those of the past, or so the leatherheads think. Call me a graybeard if you like, but any fool
with a working brainbox knows that you can’t learn the secrets of the multiverse without understanding how
things came to be. And there are some events that have been so monumental as to be remembered for
centuries later, even by the common rabble.

Blood War

Every planar, from the deepest hole in Pandemonium, to the loftiest heights of the Mount Celestia, knows
about the Blood War. All blood spilled across the multiverse is but a drop in the ocean of gore that has been
this oldest of conflicts. And there’s no end in sight. The lawful baatezu and the chaotic tanar’ri have locked
horns since they first stumbled on each other. These two forces are arguably the most powerful of the fiends,
and millions of the vile creatures march and seethe across the Lower Planes, great machines and dark spells
are designed and thrown into the conflict, lives and supplies are sucked in never to be seen again. The only
way it will ever end is one side completely annihilates the other. Many graybeards believe it is a war to
determine the face of evil. Others just write it off as proof that evil defeats itself in the end, and are thankful
the fiends have something to keep themselves busy. How the war started is anyone’s guess, but no one
seems to remember a time the Blood War wasn’t raging across the Lower Planes.

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The war takes place mostly on Gehenna, the Gray Waste, and Carceri, but its horrors touch every part of the
multiverse and just about every group is involved in it one way or the other. The yugoloths and other fiends
stand in the middle of the conflict as mercenaries, joining whoever suits their own interests at the time only to
turn stag a moment later. Their are as trustworthy in battle as they are with history. Lawful forces aid the
baatezu, preferring the evil they know over the evil they don’t, while chaotic forces favor the tanar’ri, hoping
that they will prevail over tyranny. The forces of good continue to be split over how to deal with the Blood War
and as a result do a little bit of everything, but not much of anything. Some believe the good powers are the
ones responsible for keeping the war going so long, as it’s a widely accepted fact that a consolidated evil
force could overrun the Upper Planes. Only by keeping evil divided can the forces of good survive, so the
chant goes. Truth being, none of the powers have been known to interfere directly. Sure, they’ll manipulate
events and send supplies to whatever side they favor, but no acts of divine might ever take place in the war.
Whatever the dark of the war is, it’s a blessing for the rest of the multiverse, especially Sigil. Neither side can
claim the Cage without immediate reprisals from the other, so both sides are real leery about sending forces
into the city.

Still, Sigil can hardly claim to be above the war. Baatezu and tanar’ri alike use it to trade weapons and other
supplies, for spying, and to recruit (or otherwise obtain) soldiers to fight in the war. Great fame, wealth, and
power are said to await anyone who survives service in the war, but trust me berk, you’re far more likely to
end up in the dead-book the first day than see a glimpse of reward. Besides, you’d have to be plain barmy to
take a fiend’s word.

The Great Modron March

Ah yes, the fabled Modron March. Used to be a time you could depend on things. Every couple of centuries
the lawful exemplar of Mechanus, known as the modrons, begin a mass march from their home plane and
travel around the Outer Planes along the Great Road. This march takes the modrons to each of the Outer
Planes until they return to Mechanus. No one knows why the modrons suddenly feel the need to leave their
clockwork paradise, but no one really understands what it’s like to be inside of a modron’s brain-box in the
first place. That doesn’t stop the berks from guessing though, and most agree that it must be the modrons’
way of gathering information on the condition of the planes. Considering the modrons stay close together and
rarely talk to outsiders along their path, this could just as well be screed, but it’s too suspicious a possibility to
drop.
The march itself creates quite a chaotic spectacle, even though the sods are supposed to be representatives
of law. The modron army moves along its predetermined path without pause or consideration for whomever
happens to be in their way, sometimes leaving entire cities in ruin.

Likewise, while otherwise peaceful, the modrons will attack any force that seems to be inhibiting the march,
and will only change course when continuation proves impossible. The march takes the modron army from
Mechanus along the Upper Planes and through several gate-towns to Limbo, the plane of absolute chaos,
and finally into the Lower Planes. During this time the modron army develops quite a following: graybeards
taking the opportunity to study the modrons, planewalkers and other merchants trying to profit from the event,
and a couple of sods who try to make some of the modrons go rogue or otherwise succumb to chaos (which
never works, mind you). This crowd steadily grows as the army crisscrosses through the Outlands and Upper
Planes, but begins to break up once the march reaches Limbo and begins to enter the Lower Planes. Only
the truly zealous or barmy follow the drones into fiendish territory, and those who do almost never return. The
modron army is hit hard as the various fiends take the opportunity to rip them apart every step of the way. By
the time the modrons leave the Lower Planes only a few of the strange critters are left to stagger back into
Mechanus.

So that’s how it used to be. Like clockwork, heh. The Great Modron March would start up every three
hundred years or so, so most bashers would never even see one. But just a few years ago the march
happened, a couple centuries ahead of schedule. Why’d it start up early? The modrons appeared just as
confused as the rest of us. They’ve always been hard to talk to, but they were even worse this time. There’s
plenty of wild theories going around, though none worth considering. What? Of course I have some ideas.
No, I ain’t talkin’, not ’til I’ve got it all entered proper in the book here. But something big must have set them
off, and it’s a fair bet that its repercussions aren’t over yet. It should be over two centuries until the march
occurs again, but there’s no way to be sure with how the modron are acting. And when you can’t trust a
modron to keep a schedule, what can you rely on?

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 Vecna

What? You want me to talk about the Maimed One? Dark business that. A thousand curses on his name, but
not too loud, lest he hear. Still, I was there, when he first made his presence known, and I’ve carefully
recorded every detail of that affair. The god of secrets is hated by just about all Cagers, and only Rowan
Darkwood gets as much bile. They say he is the only god to find a way through the Lady’s wards, the one’s
that keep powers out of Sigil. He causes misery and suffering throughout the planes, and his name is
whispered on a hundred prime worlds. It wasn’t enough for him to be feared and hated on the out-of-touch
world he was born to. It’s said that he even stole Citadel Cavitius from the Doomguard, which he then used
for the centuries that followed as a prison colony for those who dared stand against him. Eventually, Vecna
ascended to become a demigod, despite the betrayal of his most senior lieutenant. It was not long after this
that Vecna and Citadel Cavitius disappeared. There were plenty that rejoiced at his apparent fall, and true
enough, he was not heard of again for many years.

Then, less than a year after the Faction War ended, the Maimed One appeared again. Common chant holds
that he was imprisoned within a demiplane of horror somewhere in the Deep Ethereal. Through a twisted
series of events, he became a real power and during his moment of triumph forged a bridge into Sigil.
Everybody knows that the Lady stops all deities from entering the Cage, and with good reason, as we soon
saw. As Vecna entered Sigil, it became all too apparent what a single power could do to a city like the Cage.
The sudden incursion of pure divine energy sent ripples of power throughout the city, causing reality to flop
and flounder like a fish dredged from the ocean floor. The ensuing chaos was catastrophic.

Lurid green hailstones fell from the Sigilian sky, crushing unlucky berks, scorching winds seared the streets,
and the city was wracked with quaking tremors. Waves of impenetrable darkness blanketed whole wards at
random, and violence and desperation began to rise to levels never before seen within the city. Vecna himself
left a 200-foot wide path of destruction where he passed, crawling from the place where he first entered Sigil
to his new chosen seat of power, the remains of the Armory.

The Armory was destroyed during the Faction War, and the ruins were avoided by all sensible cutters. It was
common knowledge that several dangerous Sinker weapons were still inside when the structure collapsed.
Vecna used his newfound power to rebuild the structure, replacing the previous Doomguard icons with glyphs
and symbols of his cult. He set up a shield of deadly energy around his new kip, and reanimated several of
the spheres of annihilation that had been left behind. The Cult of Vecna spread through the city like a plague.
Ely Cromlich, a cambion and high-ranking member of the Doomguard, was brought back to life and took
position as high priest of this new religion.

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The newly formed Sigil Advisory Council placed the Sons of Mercy, who at the time still controlled the city
guard, in charge of the Cage’s defense. The Martyrs gathered a huge army around the Armory, recruiting all
who were able-bodied and could wield a weapon. Although the cultists were outnumbered by more than one
to twenty, the gathered defenders of Sigil didn’t make any headway, Vecna squashing every attempt they
came up with. Of course, the sods who made up the army started losing faith. Some said they could hear
whispers offering them their deepest and most base desires, while others felt an overwhelming sense of
futility. Wasn’t long before sods started turning stag, passing through the barrier to join the cult. Even
Autochon the Bellringer and other well-known bloods were accused of siding with Vecna, though no one
could ever prove it.

Days passed by, and then She appeared. She whose shadow cuts, She who rules in silence. Just as the
crowds around the Armory reached their peak, the army was graced with the presence of the most influential
and enigmatic being in Sigil, the Lady of Pain Herself. Arriving with an escort of dabus, the Lady did not seem
to be actively intervening, instead simply watched in silence. If the Lady had acted, it may have only made
things worse; as with most things concerning Her Serenity, the truth is uncertain. In the meantime, small
groups of adventurers attempted to infiltrate the Armory, but only a few managed to get through, the rest
destroyed by Vecna’s defenses. After a little under twelve days of siege, just when all hope seemed lost to
the gathered crowds and morale had reached an all-time low, things changed yet again.

Gouts of flame leapt into the Sigilian sky as the Armory erupted into pyrotechnics. Night became day, and all
could feel the evil presence which had infiltrated Sigil suddenly vanish. Taking this as a sign, the army
descended upon the Armory, seeking to put an end to the cult in Sigil once and for all. The mob slaughtered
Vecna’s neophyte cult without any major resistance, Vecna seemingly long gone from the Cage. Without
Vecna’s power supporting the Armory its structure began to weaken and collapse, forcing the army to
evacuate before properly investigating the building, with only a handful of unlucky berks being trapped as it
crumbled.

A lot of bashers tried to take the credit for Vecna’s defeat, such as Shemeshka the Marauder and Ronnasic, a
sage and writer of great renown (of course, sages and writers should be above crass puffery). The truth of it
all is still unknown. Some claim the Lady of Pain simply mazed Vecna. Others say that she enlisted demigods
to assist her, though even more wild and outlandish theories arose over time. A group of adventurers from the
Prime also attempted to take credit, though their version of events was hardly taken seriously, especially
when they began to claim that they wielded Vecnan relics against their creator, and fought him with the
backing of the Lady herself. Surely anyone who hears
your mimir won’t make up such naïve tales, eh?

Since his grab for power, Vecna’s cult has met with
hatred throughout Sigil, the religion having since been
banned by the Advisory Council. Following the battle
and the celebrations that followed, a series of witch-
hunts began intended to root out the religion and
cleanse the city. Among Cagers, Vecna is now only
ever referred to as ‘the Failed God’, and it is
considered very bad luck to mention his name in Sigil.
Even outside of Sigil, the wise cutter keeps talk of him
quiet. As for Ely Cromlich, he was found cringing in the
ruins of the Armory. Maybe the berk had been written
in and out of the dead-book one too many times. The
always-helpful Bleakers took him to the Gatehouse,
while the Sigil Advisory Council debated what do with
him. The rabble was hungry for his blood, but the
Gatehouse wardens said it would be wrong to put a
barmy to death. Ely stopped the debate by escaping
with the help of some of his old friends in the
Doomguard and what little was left of the Maimed
God’s cult. Cromlich made himself scarce, but there’s a
rumor that he was last seen leaving the
Quasielemental Plane of Salt heading towards Citadel
Exhalus with an army of Doomguard behind him.

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So, what does it all mean? Well, the Lady would never allow a god to shove his way into Sigil, that’s plain. So
he must have been let in, right? Not the first time the Lady’s let dangers into the Cage. She’s always stopped
just short of letting them cause irreparable harm to the city, and this time was no different, though She
certainly put a scare into folks. Why would She do such a thing? There must be something She wants. She’s
setting something up, I’m telling you. What? How should I know? Her Dread Majesty keeps her own council.

There’s been some planar anomalies since, and one cartographer went so far to say that an Inner Plane had
run aground on a prime world, but he was probably hitting the bub when he came up with that one. Eventually
everything resettled, with only a few minor changes. The Shadow Plane, once thought to be a mere
demiplane with connections to some prime worlds, has since appeared coexistent with most of the
multiverse, as if whatever walls sealing it off have been shredded. At the same time rumors of a new,
mysterious border plane known as the Ordial are beginning to arise, prompting would-be prophets to babble
about some “Completion of the Ring”. Regardless, no one has come to any firm conclusions about how
Vecna’s presence had an effect on the whole multiverse. It may have been a side effect of violating Sigil’s
wards, some dread ritual Vecna was preparing, or even a hidden power locked away in Sigil itself.

One last bit, for the record. When the Maimed One became a true power, Citadel Cavitius was spit back right
where it used to squat on the Quasielemental Plane of Ash. Most feel that the disappearance proves that it
was imprisoned with Vecna in the Deep Ethereal, and evidence seems to support that belief. Since its return,
the Citadel is said to have been reclaimed by one of the four main splinter groups of the Doomguard. The
Great Wheel keeps spinning, no matter what you or I may have to say.

[Editor's note: Although our first contributor claims to have been “tasked” with writing the history of the
multiverse, it’s unknown who gave him such a commission, and he’s not saying. He appears human, but
exudes a feeling of incredible ancientness (mayhap it’s the cloud of dust that shrouds him). He certainly
knows his history, though, including current events. Oddly enough, none of his neighbors see him ever leave
his case in the Clerk’s Ward, nor does he often have visitors.]

Traversing Infinity

Jordel made his way out of the Great Bazaar, seeking a quieter place where he could hear the mimir’s tale in
peace. The strange magical device floated a foot before with him, and at times he felt like it was the one
doing the leading. Yet he had no complaints when he found himself on a small bench nestled between two
impressively tall buildings lined with menacing thorns
along their rooftops. The mimir paused its recitation for a
moment, seemingly considering what it had next to say…

“A tad long winded that one, but you can find worse
bashers to learn from. Of course, what’s most important to
planewalkers is how to get from place to place. The
profession doesn’t entail lounging in one area, after all.
There’s too much to be seen, far more than can be
squeezed into a single lifetime. Fortunately most of the
multiverse, save perhaps the Prime Material Plane, is
riddled with portals and other pathways to travel between
the planes. For those powerful enough, magic simplifies
planar traveling as well, and of course some creatures
have the inherent ability to cross planes. Every method
has its advantages and disadvantages; each can provide
its own adventure. And the real excitement typically starts
once you get to your destination, which is why it’s
important to know what you’re getting into and to be
properly prepared in advance. You don’t want to head into
Pandemonium without being ready for the winds, and you
don’t want to step onto Elysium without knowing a way
out.”

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[Editor's note: Hajzeek is a sad sight these days. You’ll be hard pressed to find a cutter who’s seen more
nooks and crannies of the planes than that old bariaur. But everything passes with time, so they say. He
certainly makes Sigil richer with the time he has left.]

Hajzeek Gnarl-Hoof

Portals

Ah, was a time these hooves took me all across the planes. I saw the darkest, smelliest hole in the multiverse
and the brightest, sweetest heights of ’em, too. And I loved ’em all. Pass me another mug o’ that bub there,
and ol’ Gnarl-Hoof will tell ye all about it. I’ll lann ye the ins and outs o’ planehoppin’, I will. The first thing a
planewalker needs knowin’ is how to get around. There’s lots o’ ways ye can get to where ye’re going.

The way most folks get around the planes is portals. There’s really three reasons for this. They usually take
ye to the same spot every time, just about any sod can use ’em, and the things be as common as Dustmen at
a mass burial. Portals connect two places through a permanent teleportation effect. This makes ’em quick
and handy shortcuts, sometimes to a place on the same plane, but oftentimes to another plane altogether.
Now, the portal itself can be up to about 15 feet in radius, and exists in two-dimensions. I got that from a
Guvner. Most portals’re in doorways or gates that have the same sort o’ shape, but they can also be found in
other sorts o’ bounded spaces like windows, holes, or natural opening.

Portals keep things movin’, allowin’ people to get to places they could never reach otherwise. Some of us use
’em just for the noble art of explorin’ the corners o’ the multiverse, but lots o’ folks use ’em to spread their jink
around. Opportunistic traders can get rare goods from out-o’- the way spots and bring ’em to other out-o’-the
way spots. Portals make Sigil the City o’ Doors; that city has more portals in and out of it than pointy bits on a
bladeling, and so the city has a big sway on planar doin’s. Lucky for all of us that the Lady can’t be bought.
She ignores all the posturin’s of the sycophants and cross-traders o’ the factions and guilds, and She’s the
only one that can make portals that lead in or out o’ the city. Outside the Cage, it seems that portals are a
natural part o’ the planes, sometimes crafted by deities but usually just appearin’ and disappearin’ of their
own accord. But mortals who try to make ’em always fail. Now, I hear tell that some primes can make portals
on the Prime Material Plane, but those spells only work on their out-o’-touch worlds.
Since planars can’t make their own portals, many groups and businesses make chartin’ the portals that do
exist a big priority. Then they turn around an’ sell that knowledge to planewalkers. Good thing, since portals
ain’t so easy to find. And they usually need a special key to open ’em. Mark ye well the Rule of Threes when
usin’ portals: find the portal, then figure out its key, and then get ready for what’s on the other side.

Finding Portals
Portals are invisible, but they give off a faint aura o’ transmutation magic, so bloods using detect magic an’
true sight can see ’em, and they give off a much stronger aura when they’re open. Planars can kind o’ sense
portals, spottin’ traces of the aura around the portals. Usin’ witchery, or just sniffing it out yerself don’t give ye
a clue on how the portal is opened, though. How hard a portal is to find or get to can give an idea of how out-
o’-the-way its destination is. Thank the powers that most portals are medium-sized and stay in one place, but
there be plenty of ’em that can be moved, like barrels, wardrobes, or mirrors, and others that change on their
own

Just finding one portal usually doesn’t finish the job. They ain’t many portals that’re static, and lots o’ times
they have conditions that make travelin’ back and forth more difficult. For starters, portals can be either one-
way or two-way, which means ye may have to find another portal in order to find yer way back. Even portals
that’re two-way oftentimes have different keys to open each side o’ the portal. And if that ain’t enough, portals
are either temporary, permanent, or shiftin’. Most portals be temporary, appearin’ and disappearin’ at what
seems like random times, or changin’ their keys every once in a while. Permanent portals are hard to find,
and’re jealously guarded by those who want to keep ’em under their thumb. Lastly, some portals don’t
disappear but just move about between locations. These shiftin’ portals move one or both o’ their ends to
other locations based on some pattern, though a lot o’ them seem to shift in ways that make no sense. Shiftin’
portals can be pretty dicey if ye don’t know where ye’re goin’ to be comin’ out.

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Discovering the Key
Almost all portals need some sort o’ key to open ’em up. This key can be just about anythin’ a cutter can think
of: a word or sayin’, a gesture (like waving your hands), a thought or emotion, a musical note, the castin’ of a
particular spell (which is then sucked up by the portal without any harm), or the channelin’ of divine energy.
Many portal keys are part of a general group such as a flower, a bottle, or a broken sword. Others may be
more specific such as a particular amulet, or an object the wielder considers to be junk. A few rare portals
may be set to open only at certain times during the day or year, or only to someone wit’ a particular name or
alignment. The kind o’ portal key is oftentimes related to the portal’s destination, but that ain’t always the way
o’ things.

The most obvious way to figure out a portal key is the ol’ “trial and error” method, but it’s not the best way to
go about things. This only has a chance to work if ye got some idea about where the portal goes and think
the key’s connected to that. Spellslingers, on the other hand, are oftentimes given the job of learnin’ portal
keys by castin’ divination spells like analyze portal or legend lore. These bloods can make a good livin’ sellin’
their skills and knowledge to planewalkers or catalogers. Most planars, ’specially in Sigil, learn portal keys
through word o’ mouth or exchanges of information. The cost of a portal key can vary wildly. How much does
the physical key itself cost? How few’re portals to the place in question? How much does the operator of the
portal want to keep traffic down? How much is it worth to ye, berk? For portals that see common use, a portal
key (whether ’tis an object, action, or mental concept) will generally cost from 5 to 100 gold pieces.
Once you have the right key, turning the portal on is normally pretty simple. Usually the person wit’ the key
just walks through the portal, and it activates when the key passes through. Sometimes the key’s gotta be
used a certain way, though, like holding it in the air or tapping it against the portal itself. It don’t matter
whether the portal is bein’ activated on purpose or not; if someone happens to carry a portal key on ‘em, or
otherwise triggers the portal, it opens, oftentimes catching the person ’fore they realize it.

The Other Side

When it opens, a portal crackles wit’ energy and sometimes lets out a burst of air or other effects. Sometimes
the portal’s destination can be seen as a dim outline once the portal is on. Unless something special opened
it up, the portal stays open for a full six seconds ’fore it shuts down. Usually, all ye have to do is put any part
o’ yer body into the portal, and ye’ll get sucked through. But if the portal’s two-way and ye have the key for
both sides then ye can move freely in and out o’ the portal. So ye can poke yer head through and peer
around, for instance. If there’s something solid blockin’ the other side o’ the portal, it won’t open.

Any planewalker’ll tell ye that knowin’ what’s on the other side o’ the portal is the most important knowledge
ye can hold. No point in going through it if ye don’t know where it goes, unless ye’re just burnin’ up wit’
curiousity. Usually ye know somethin’ o’ where the
portal leads ’fore ye pass through it, either by using
analyze portal or by lannin’ it from whoever gave ye
the portal key. Some planewalkers have developed
the ability to sense where a portal goes to and even
if there’s a natural danger on the other side. The
best way to handle planar hazards is wit’ spells, but
some devices have been made to use on specific
planes.

The Exceptions
Well, this is the multiverse we’re speakin’ of, and
there’s always somethin’ that breaks the rules.
There be portals that don’t need keys, that’re
always open, or don’t even need to be in bounded
spaces. The easiest examples to point to be the
portals along the Great Road, the World Ash, or
Mount Olympus. And o’ course the ways portals
work may be completely different on certain prime
worlds or other obscure regions o’ the multiverse.

13
 Using the City of Doors
Sigil hangs above the Spire like an apple just out o’ reach from those who want to grab it. Many have lusted
to control the city and its portals, but it knows only one mistress. Luckily, She makes sure no one gains too
much control o’er her doors. I’ve spent a lot o’ time in this city. In the old days, I stayed just long enough to
get to where I was going next. Now, it makes a better place than most to rest these creaking bones and talk
wit’ travelers by a warm fire.

Adventurers and traders could hardly find a better place to set up shop than the Cage. Nowhere else in all the
known planes gives as much access to the rest of existence. Though Sigil’s portals may not always drop a
cutter off in the exact spot that body wants, they can get close enough. Even parties that don’t call kip in the
city oftentimes pass through, finding that the shortest path between two points goes through the Cage. In
fact, there ain’t many planar explorers that don’t make use o’ the City of Doors in some way.

Though Sigil is full o’ portals to the other planes, getting to use ’em is another matter. Whilst even the
Guvners can’t keep track o’ just how many portals exist at any one time, ’tis the opinion o’ most bloods that
nearly all portals in the Cage are under someone’s control, be it a guild, faction, or random basher. Usually,
such portals be on property owned by the controller. But sometimes, the portal ain’t under direct ownership,
but the location and portal key needed be such a closely kept secret no one else is goin’ to be able to use it,
at least ’til someone finds a way to make it worth tellin’. If a cutter’s a member of the controllin’ group, they
might have easy access to the portal, or at least for some small cost. If not, the cutter will probably need to
provide a garnish of some sort (jink, favors, what-have-ye). That being said, if there’s one thing that’ll get ye
flayed, ’tis tryin’ to tax the use o’ the Lady’s portals. That business has been punished so harshly by Her
Serenity that only the barmiest ever try it anymore.

Not all Sigil’s portals’re controlled, though. New portals appear oftentimes enough; maybe they’re products o’
the Lady’s whim or some cosmic fluke. Some o’ these vanish just as quickly, though others stick around.
Shiftin’ portals are also really hard t’keep track of, though the Guvners still log what details they can in their
tomes.

Of course, before getting’ access to a portal, ye have to find one that suits yer needs. Luckily, that’s normally
the easiest part, as there be more than enough bashers makin’ a livin’ off findin’ portals and tradin’ chant on
’em. Askin’ around in any o’ Sigil’s pubs will get ye a few recommendations to those in the know, who will
likely be just as willing to point ye in the right direction; for a minor fee, o’ course. This can be ’specially handy
if ye’re looking for a little-known portal, or mayhap one less public. On the other hand, it ain’t guaranteed that
what ye pay for is legit. There be plenty out there looking to bob would-be planewalkers. If’n ye’re looking for
something’ more reliable, there be a number o’ businesses that sell portal information that live by their
reputation, with the Guild of Doorsnoops bein’ one o’ the biggest.

In the wake o’ the Faction War, the Lady of Pain shut

the portals down completely, then scrambled ’em, a
time we speak of nowadays as the Tempest o’
Doors. Not all portals reopened, and those that did
oftentimes had new destinations or new keys. Over
the last five years, things have gotten more regular,
but many bashers are now leery of usin’ Sigil’s
portals. ’Tis a sad thing when the planewalkers can’t
rely on the City o’ Doors. An era has passed us by,
but all sweet grass turns brown in the end, I
suppose. Now most cutters put more stock in the
planar pathways and other forms o’ travel, which
means Sigil is a bit less crowded and no longer
guaranteed to have access to every bit o’ planar
merchandise. But even yet, travel through the Cage
is still very high, and the lessened demand for
portals has forced businesses to provide cheaper
rates for their services.

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 The Gate-Towns

Sigil’s not the only anthill that has important portals. Around the “edges” o’ the Outlands lay the gate-towns,
one for each o’ the Outer Planes. These burgs are shadows o’ the planes they are connected to, culturally an’
philosophically. The land within and around each gate-town takes on the features o’ the plane ’tis linked to,
making them a good way for a basher to get a handle on what to expect on the plane itself. Even more
important, each gate-town has a gate to the Outer Plane ’tis coupled wit’, usually large enough for caravans
to cross, making ’em the main road for merchants. The destinations of most of these gates be well known
(though they have been known to move), and guides can be hired in most o’ the gate-towns, which is
especially handy for some o’ the less welcomin’ planes, ye’d best believe me. Don’t trust ’em, but so long as
they be willin’ to go through a portal first, ye’re probably safe on the other end.

Gaining access to the gates ain’t as easy as ye might expect. Whilst they’re always open and don’t need
portal keys, in some o’ the gate-towns, the folks that live there keep a tight grip on passage. The bureaucrats
of Automata make all potential gate users fill out forms, whilst Tradegate’s gate is actually owned by a fine
and worthy bariaur named the Master Trader, who must be found and negotiated with for passage. Some o’
the other burgs, like Glorium, Sylvania, or Torch have gates that are a little more difficult to find or physically
get to, though no one stops a body from trying. But most of the gate-towns don’t have any rules or physical
barriers keeping others from using their gate. So long as sods don’t make trouble, they can use the gates all
they want.

Gate-Towns to the Outer Planes

Plane Gate-Town
Arcadia Courage
Mount Celestia Excelsior
Bytopia Tradegate
Elysium Ecstasy
The Beastlands Faunel
Arborea Sylvania
Ysgard Glorium
Limbo Xaos
Pandemonium Bedlam
The Abyss Blight
Carceri Curst
The Gray Waste Hopeless
Gehenna Torch
Baator Ribcage
Acheron Rigus
Mechanus Automata

O’ course, when traveling through the gate-towns, any canny blood is goin’
to be mindful o’ that burg’s own personal quest. Y’see, the petitioners o’ the
gate-towns are made up o’ sods who held a particular philosophy but didn’t
quite measure up, and didn’t end up on their proper plane. From then on the
petitioners o’ that town are devoted to overcomin’ their own stumbling blocks
and getting’ their burg to become more and more like the nearby plane until
the entire gate-town up and moves there. This is good for the petitioners so
they can set about trying to merge with their plane proper, and ’tis good for
the plane’s original inhabitants ’cause it means more territory and followers.
O’ course, this means that it’ll be a while ’fore folks find where the gate has
moved and a new town is built, but ’tis not a recurrin’ problem ’cause these
shifts take a long while, what with opposin’ forces interferin’ all the time and
most o’ the burg’s mortal residents preferrin’ their homes where they are.
Since there tain’t too many petitioners to begin wit’, their desires are
normally ignored by more influential bloods. The most recent crossin’ was
when the gate-town of the Abyss, Plague-Mort, crossed and was replaced
by a burg known as Blight just two years ago.

15
 Elemental Vortices

Portals ain’t the only way to get around, though. One of the other ways is usin’ an elemental vortex, though
planars rarely make use of ’em. See, a vortex usually appears on the Prime connectin’ to an Inner Plane,
though sometimes vortices connect one Inner plane wit’ another. Near as anyone can tell, vortices are natural
holes in the fabric between the planes. These vortices usually last forever and stay nice an’ stable. They don’t
need a key neither, but most smart cutters try to find another way to get where they need to go. Why go to all
the trouble of finding another way, when these vortices seem so handy? Well, the Prime ends of most
vortices tend to form in places where there’s lots an’ lots of the elemental stuff that the vortex leads to. So, a
vortex to the Elemental Plane of Fire could be locked deep in the heart of a volcano, while one that leads to
the Elemental Plane of Water may be in the deepest reaches of an ocean. But in spite of all these dangers,
elemental vortices are many times the safest ways (if ye’ve got the right elemental protections) to get from
the Prime to the Inner Planes and back.

Findin’ the vortex ain’t hard, they show up through detect magic and the like, and skilled folk can sense ‘em.
So, first things first: find a way to survive the element itself. Use a spell, magic item, or some other sort of
adaptin’, and then away ye go. Easy as gallopin’. Ye just get yerself down into the elemental matter, deeper
an’ deeper until ye’re all the way under it. The only thing around ye now is that one element. At that moment,
ye leave the Prime behind and find yerself in the Inner Plane. There the vortex can’t really be made out from
the surroundings, though its elemental properties are actually a bit less strong than the rest of the plane.

The most common an’ stable elemental vortices connect to the four main Elemental Planes. Vortices that get
a body to the Para- an’ Quasielemental Planes are much harder to come by and ain’t as reliable. Temporary
vortices to Lightning may open up durin’ really violent thunderstorms, and vortices to Ice may appear at the
snowbound poles o’ prime worlds on occasion. I’ve even seen Para- an’ Quasielemental vortices muscle their
way in and take over other permanent elemental vortices. This one time, I was headin’ for Fire and next thing
I know I’m treadin’ through the stiflin’ Plane of Dust. I was prepared for bein’ singed, not chokin’ on all that
dust. Use a vortex if ye need to, cutter, but be warned.

Astral Conduits

The Astral Plane offers up many ways to go to and fro. The Astral is a sort o’ bridge between the Material
Plane and the Outer Planes. Sure, there are strange beasts, horrible astral thought storms and the
inhospitable githyanki to make any trip through the Silver Void hazardous, but it still sees lots o’ traffic. Spells
like astral projection or powers such as astral caravan allow a body to get onto the plane while spells like
dimension door and teleport use the astral to travel without actually physically moving between two spots.
Those are just some of the most common methods of using the Astral.

A lesser known route is by usin’ astral conduits, which’ll take you from the Astral to ‘bout anywhere on the
Planes. They’re strange things; they twist an’ turn throughout the Silvery Void like wormholes in a piece o’
fruit. Now, their ends are invisible, but they don’t need keys, so all a body has to do is go inside and then
away ye go, faster than a Taker grabbin’ for the last piece of pie. Travelin’ down one o’ these things feels like
goin’ through a portal, but really, that’s not how it is. Ye’re actually movin’ down the tube, but so quick it seems
the trip takes no time at all.

So, easy to use, but a cutter needs to know it’s there first, and for that they’ll need to be able to see it, with a
spell like true seeing, p’rhaps. Now, where does it lead? Well, unless ye want to take yer chances, divination
magic will give ye an idea. So, ye’re smart, you can guess what’s comin’ next, right? Hard to find but useful?
Can ye hear the jink changin’ hands? Most spivs in Sigil have it “in with a basher, who’s in with a cutter” who
can give the chant about astral conduits. Also, those bookish Guvners have all sorts o’ notes written down
that’ll help find conduits. There’s more conduits than there’s pages, though, and more turn up all the time.
They tend to roam about too, so make sure yer source is up to date.

Why do they exist? Why do planars need one more way to get around? Well, seems the conduits may really
be there for another reason altogether. They’ve got plenty of other uses. Firstly, astral conduits are how the
planes of belief and the Prime Material Plane talk to each other. Prayers and devotions from mortal bashers
go from the Prime to the Outer Planes through the conduit network and all the spell energy that deities hand
out to their faithful comes back that way. When a sod dies, the spirit goes through the astral conduit network
to whatever afterlife they’ve earned. ’Cause of all this, many cutters speculate that the conduits were put

16
 there on purpose, and that new conduits come about the same way. Only makes sense. And seeing as
conduits mature with time, some berks go so far as to say that the conduits themselves are alive. The life
stages are broken down to young, when it drifts about and only works one way; then mature, where it tends
to stay in one place, moving about every few centuries, and works both ways; and old an’ dodderin’. Then ’tis
really dangerous, as it moves around from plane to plane without any way of tellin’ where ’twill end up. And
finally, they just die.

Even the stable ones can be treacherous, though. Sometimes, a group traveling t’gether down a conduit gets
split up, ending up in different places. And some say this can happen to the spirits of the dead, too, and the
poor sods end up in the wrong afterlife. Then there’s some critters that prey on the conduits. See, while the
ends of a conduit are invisible, that’s not the way ’tis in the Astral. The conduit tubes can be seen twistin’
through the Silvery Void, and a cutter can tell when a body’s travelin’ down ’em. The githyanki know some
spells that can tear open conduits, spilling the contents out into the Astral Plane, and these spells have made
their way into other hands. Then there’s the astral vampire (h’rak’va in the githyanki tongue) which can pierce
a conduit with its long proboscis and suck out the life force of hapless travelers. Some berks figure these
dangers ain’t enough, and tell tales of another beastie called a conduit cleaver, which has hundreds of arms
ending in cleavers, and chops through conduits with its bladed limbs just for fun. Me, I’m too old for bogey
stories.

Color Pools

Handier than conduits are color pools, as long as a cutter can get to the Astral in the first place. Color pools
are holes in the fabric of the Astral. Yep, that’s right, more holes in reality. Startin’ to sound like there are more
holes in existence than there be in a halfling’s socks, don’t it? Anyways, color pools are like doorways that go
from the Astral to any of the planes it connects to. They look like colored disks that can only be seen from one
side. Even though they can’t be seen from one side, both sides work, so astral travelers who ain’t paying
attention can tumble right through a color pool ’fore they even know it. Color pools work a lot like the colored
disks that are all over Mount Olympus and Yggdrassil. Graybeards wag their bone-boxes about what color
pools are, but most planewalkers are just happy to get off a plane infested with githyanki. They don’t care that
the exit is a blendin’ of “liquid reality” and “astral ectoplasm”.

Color pools are everywhere in the Silvery Void and even the greenest rube can find one. Just think about
going to a color pool that’ll take ye to the plane ye want, and ye’ll start driftin’ in that direction. Now, ye can’t
choose where the pool is goin’ to take ye on the plane in question, so ye have to take yer chances. And keep
this in mind: despite what some knight o’ the post in the Hive Ward may tell ye, there is no set code to the
colors of the pools. One portal to Celestia may be bright blue whilst another is blood red. ’Tis much better to
follow yer mind than yer eyes whilst searching for color pools.

Most color pools are one-way portals, so’s ye can get off the Astral, but ye can’t get back that way. A cutter
that steps into one is swallowed by the pool and appears, as if from nowhere, on the other side. The color
pool’s exit on the plane is invisible. Now, just so there’ll be an exception I wager, every great once in a while,
two-way pools come into being. These color pools allow a body to go onto and off o’ the Astral. The entrance
back to the Astral is still invisible, though, so mark ye well where ye came out.

17
 Planar Pathways
Now, the planar pathways, they see much more travel than about anything else. Why? ’Cause they’re pretty
easy to walk or ride down. They got well-mapped routes and trails and lots o’ connections to different planes.
They ain’t the quickest, but they’re great if a body likes the scenic route. See, unlike the instant travel offered
by portals and the like, the great planar paths are roads, staircases, waterways or such that a basher needs
to actually travel to get from plane to plane. On some of ’em, the change from plane to plane is so gradual ye
might not even notice, while on others, there be portals an’ doorways that connect the path to other planes.
’Cause the pathways are actual physical locations, they each have their own hazards, inhabitants, and
special laws required for traversal. There’s six generally recognized planar paths, and these be the Great
Road, the River Styx, the River Oceanus, Mount Olympus, Yggdrassil, and the Infinite Staircase.

The Great Road

The Great Road is so great, it’s moved beyond bein’ a real road into what a graybeard would call the
‘archetype’, and what most of us unlearned sods would call the ‘idea’, of a road. As most anyone knows, the
Outer Planes form a ring. You’ve got yer Upper Planes, and yer Lower, and then you got those ones in
between. Now, if a body is of a mind to, he or she can go from plane to plane, following the ring. This is
known as walkin’ the Great Road, and every planewalker should do it at least once. At least part o’ the way,
’cause walking through every plane would take ye a few centuries. Even the modrons take shortcuts when
they’re on their march. On each plane, there’s an archway at either end. Yeah, I know planes don’t have
ends, and that they go on forever. I still have a workin’ brainbox! Just keep up with me here, aye?

Imagine there’s an end to the planes, otherwise ye’ll never get anywheres. These archways are a lot like the
doorways in Sigil, and they hook the plane up with the two planes on either side of it. If a basher looks
through the arch, the other plane can be seen on the other side. Just step through that arch to get to the
other plane. There’s usually some kind of town or fort around the portal. If ye’re in the Upper Planes, ye can
buy some wares or have a mug and a rest. In the Lower Planes, you might find yerself the newest spear
holder in a Blood War regiment. The fiends make sure an’ secure their portals, both to guard against their
foes and to spring their own attacks.

The River Styx

Feh, I’d rather go floppin’ about the Ditchwater than row a boat down the Styx again. Dangerous, smelly, and
I can’t remember my first love’s name no more. But sometimes, a planewalker might see the need to travel
down its chaotic, meanderin’ course through the Lower Planes, so I’ll tell ye what I know of it. The River Styx
connects to the top layer of every Lower Plane and its tributaries connect to lower layers. Its putrid, blood-
colored waters steal away a body’s memories if ye so much as stick the tip of yer littlest finger in the sludge. If
ye’re so unlucky as to fall in completely, ye’ll find yer very sense of self slippin’ away like smoke in the
Foundry. Walkin’ along its banks ain’t much better, ’cause there’s corpses and pointy rocks every which way,
and the banks don’t take much to collapse and spill a sod into the waters. And I told ye to stay out o’ the
water, aye? Right, ’cause not only will ye lose all yer memories, but there’s horrors in the deeps that keep
their wits just fine, and will happily munch on ye.

The river’s path can change at a moment's notice, sending travelers over dangerous rapids, impossibly high
waterfalls, or directly into the hands o’ their enemies. Now, most o’ the time, we picture the Outer Planes as a
ring, with a Great Road goin’ between ’em. Well, the Styx don’t make sense that way. Accordin’ to it, the
planes ain’t sittin’ cozy side by side. A traveler can go from Acheron to Pandemonium with no in-between
stops, or they can travel through every lawful evil plane in their travel from Carceri to the Abyss. Movin’ from
plane to plane is so gradual that a body’ll look about and realize of a sudden that the planes have changed.

Best way to go down the river is to get a ferrymen. Some of ’em are fiends, others are the spirits of the dead,
and a rare few are livin’ beings putting their sailin’ skills to use. Without a ferryman who knows the way
around, yer’e liable to get very lost indeed. But just remember this: on the Lower Planes, ye can trust nobody,
even if ye’ve paid cold, hard jink. They’ll peel ye and give ye over to an archfiend given the chance. But in
spite of that, the Styx sees constant travel. Since it connects all o’ the Lower Planes, the Styx is used as the
main method of movin’ troops about for the Blood War. Other travelers make use o’ it, too, ’specially
merchants, since portals on the Lower Planes are even more treacherous than the Styx at times. And it never
takes a body more than a day to get somewheres.

18
Several different bein’s make kip on or in the Styx. The best known are the silent marraenoloths. These
fiends call the yugoloth lord Charon (or Cerlic, depending on which graybeard ye ask) their high-up, and they
look like skeletal boatmen shrouded in black cloaks. They sell their services, but they charge a steep price,
and they may turn stag if some other cutter has given them a bigger garnish. Besides the marraenoloths, the
waters of the Styx are home to all sorts o’ fiendish creatures that are unaffected by the Styx water. They
either play some part in the Blood War or feed on the tainted memories lost to the churnin’ waters.

The River Oceanus

The bright, cheery mirror o’ the foul, depressin’ Styx, the River Oceanus winds through the Upper Planes of
Elysium, the Beastlands, and Arborea. Its waters are fragrant an’ sweet, always carryin’ the tranquil nature of
its headwaters in Elysium. Oceanus is a well-used trade route between the layers of those planes; ports have
been set up all along its banks and trader’s boats are always going up an’ down it, and travelers can usually
find safe passage if they wave around a little jink.

Even though the river goes through the Upper Planes, it can still be dangerous. In a lot o’ ways, travelin’
down Oceanus is like travelin’ down the Styx, just with better scenery and water ye can drink. If berks ain’t
careful, they might find their selves plunging o’er a big waterfall, crashing o’er white-water rapids, or being
made the food of some mammoth sea creature. The river meanders and can’t be charted; its course vanishes
from time to time only to reappear on a different plane. One moment a body can be lookin’ out on the fields of
Elysium and then the next see the shores of Arborea and have no idea when the change happened.

The Oceanus is deeper than any cutter can figure, and within it, strange and fantastic creatures live. There’s
all manner of beasts like ye’d see on the Prime, like dolphins, fish, and turtles, but it’s also home to all kinds
of intelligent beasts. And hidden deep in that dark deep there are creatures never seen on any Prime Material
world, huge monstrosities that rarely rise to the surface, which suits the bashers livin’ and sailin’ on the river
just fine.

Chant says that the Oceanus has been expanding into the first layer of Ysgard, forming a connection to the
homes of the Asgardian pantheon and their followers. Mayhap. There are less likely things, like the Styx
flowing into Nessus, the lowest layer o’ Baator, but if ’tis happenin’, it ain’t a stable path yet.

Mount Olympus
On prime worlds where the powers of the Olympian pantheon are worshipped, the mortals tell tales of a
massive mountain their gods call kip. Well, like a few clueless tales, this story’s pretty much true. On the
Outer Planes there really does exist a towering mountain that links the cases of the Olympian deities, a
mountain that makes a safe route for planar travel if’n a blood knows the way of its paths. Mount Olympus
connects to Arborea, the Gray Waste, Carceri, Gehenna, and every prime world where the Olympians are
worshipped. But most of the gateways can only be used by worshippers of the Olympian pantheon, and
unbelievers find their selves stranded on the Gray Waste. But the Olympian powers are some of the most
popular out there, so the mountain still sees lots o’ hikers.

Travelin’ Olympus is like travelin’ any other mountain, really; get where ye want by climbin’. Some places, the
slope o’ the mount is gentle and the climb easy, at others the slopes become rocky cliff faces that can spill
berks o’er infinite drops, drop showers of boulders on ’em, or slap ’em about with bitin’ winds. The gateways
to the other planes look like colorful, freestanding disks, hidden behind rocks an’ woods or in deep caverns. A
body can’t see through ’em, so a basher has to step through to find out where they go. They’re usually two-
way, so a basher can get back out if ’tis not a plane they’re lookin’ for. Well, unless they end up in Carceri;
that plane’s never been one to let berks leave easy. Areas that see lots o’ travel have paths carved into them
by merchants and caravans to make the trek easier. Great monuments and temples built by mortal and
immortal beings alike also dot the landscape, providing a welcome restin’ spot for weary travelers, though just
like the disks, only the faithful get any hospitality there. These great marble palaces are covered with statues
of deities and mortal heroes, and have endless courtyards filled with pretty marble statues, and lovely
gardens and orchards. It’s all a bit on the showy side, but ’tis nice enough. ’Sides the flocks o’ sheep,
temples, vineyards and orchards, Olympus has many glades and forests, where fey bashers like satyrs and
nymphs are said to cavort around. The path is also guarded by hounds, mountain spirits, and other mystical
beasts. Again, it’s a nice way to travel around if ye follow the Olympian gods.

19
Yggdrassil, the Great Tree
Yggdrassil’s a lot like Mount Olympus; ’tis really, really big and connects up wit’ all the places important to a
particular pantheon, the Asgardians this time. And the World Tree is spoken of on many prime worlds, where
followers of the Asgardian pantheon say that the different realms and worlds of existence are cradled in the
great ash tree. Mayhap their belief in such a thing made the tree grow, or mayhap they heard stories about it.
Either way, Yggdrassil is one of the main planar pathways. It looks like a massive tree with branches that can
be miles around, its bark be silver and flaky, like gray clay, and its leaves’re shimmering blue-black ovals.

Ysgard has many connections to the World Tree, as does Hel’s realm in the Gray Waste. Loki’s realm in
Pandemonium has a connection to the World Ash, an’ so do scattered points in the Outlands. The site called
Pinwheel in Limbo also has a connection to one of the World Tree’s routes, though why this be so is dark,
’cause it don’t seem to have anythin’ to do wit’ the Asgardian pantheon.

To get where ye’re goin’, just walk along the tree and find the right colorful, disk-shaped portals. Lots o’
merchants an’ planewalkers climb the branches, and ’tis also home to the squirrel-like ratatosk, friendly
cutters who can be hired as guides. ’Tis also guarded by eagles, aasimon, yugoloths, and even the legendary
dragon Nidhogg who lies at the tree’s roots (though he doesn’t so much guard as vent his frustration on any
poor sod who comes by). Gravity on Yggdrassil goes towards the center of the branch that a basher is
standin’ on and moving from branch to branch can be unsettlin’ when gravity moves over to the new branch
almost instantly. Any poor sod who falls off a limb ends up in the Astral Plane, and’ll have to find another way.
The portals on the tree move around a bit as the tree sways in the Astral winds, but trips across Yggdrassil
almost never take more than a week.

The Infinite Staircase

There’s one last important planar pathway — the Infinite Staircase. The Infinite Staircase is what it sounds
like: a set of stairs that stretches beyond all horizons, takin’ a cutter to the depths o’ the Hells or to the heights
o’ the Heavens. ’Tis a spiralin’ silver staircase with ivy hangin’ from it here an’ there. No support can be seen
for the Staircase, which is twenty feet wide, and is inside a silver tower shaft. Along the Staircase are
platforms o’ wood or marble, some straight, some curvin’, and each one leadin’ to doors or even more
stairways. The platforms are of many makes, from small doorsteps with a wooden door to large platforms that
stretch out o’ sight wit’ yawnin’ archways.

Openin’ one o’ these doors, it opens into a quiet, out-o’-the-way area somewhere on the planes, coming out a
door that the locals pay no mind. It could be in an abandoned building, or in the corner of a dusty basement,
though usually the door takes a planewalker to an inhabited burg o’ some sort. So, what kinds of planes are
these? Any kind. The Staircase connects to any place in the multiverse where creativity and imagination
springs up. ’Tain’t as pleasant as it first sounds, rube. This could mean a trip to a pain garden in Baator or a
potter’s shed on the Prime. Bloods can usually get a feel for the type of place a door goes to by the
surroundin’s and the materials ’tis made of. I once stumbled across a door of stretched, humanoid skin
painted with bloody symbols, on a shadowy landing wit’ the soft sound o’ moans comin’ from somewhere just
beyond knowin’. I was sure that weren’t what I was lookin’ for. Hoofed it up another staircase right quick. Most
doors ain’t so obvious, but there’s always some clue.

Climbers of the Infinite Staircase may have a trip ahead o’ them. No graybeard knows how many doors there
be, though many have tried to find out. If they have a specific door they’re heading for, it may be days away.
That’s a lot of walking up or down, and the Staircase ain’t kind to berks who cheat with magic. Fliers who stay
close to the stairs do all right, but if they try to take a shortcut to another set o’ stairs or landing, they’re likely
to get sucked into a fold in space and spit out onto the planes somewhere. Teleporters risk the same danger,
as does anyone who jumps, dives, or is pushed off the stairs.

Those walking the Staircase may meet the occasional fellow traveler or see no one for days. The
Planewalker’s Guild has taken over a massive landing as their kip high up on the Staircase, and I can tell ye
that a body can do worse than joinin’ up with those bloods. A fine bunch, interested in nothin’ so much as
learnin’ the paths o’ the planes. Travelers might also run into the lillends, servants o’ Selûne, the moon
goddess. The Staircase starts in the goddess’s palace, and she takes an interest in who’s usin’ it. If’n the
planewalkers have a close relationship to creativity, chaos, and good, they may get help from the lillends,
mostly by getting directions or warnings o’ dangers. If the lillends feel the planewalkers themselves are one o’
those dangers, they won’t be shy about nickin’ the “intruders”.

20
The Staircase is one o’ the most useful of all planar pathways, but planar travelers often choose other routes.
I’ve always found it a great way to get about, like the City o’ Doors with all the different kinds o’ portals, but for
many berks, ’tis real lonely. It can be mighty tiring to travel the Staircase, and caravans are right out. The
other planar pathways don’t provide as many destinations, but the ones they do are mapped out much better.
But the truly adventurous, or the just plain lost, can be found walkin’ up and down the silver steps, openin’
doors that lead to worlds beyond the ones they know.

Using Magic
Canny bloods don’t trek around the Great Ring without some form of protection to help them out against all
the dangers the planes are host to. Planewalkers usually get chummy with a spellcaster or two, if their own
talents don’t go that way, if only because such cutters tend to have ways to survive new environments. Of
course, most bashers also use potions and other enchanted items made to give their bearers protection. After
all, creatures have made their homes in just about every dank corner of the planes, buildin’ communities in
every bizarre and hazardous situation ye can think of. While some creatures’re naturally able to exist in those
spots, many planars do so only with the help of magic. And though many o’ us have other talents, the canny
blood learns to respect what magic can offer. If not, ye’d best stay home.

On the other hand, a lot of the Clueless come to think that magic is the end-all-be-all o’ planewalking, and
that ’tis all a basher needs to get around. But if everythin’ were that simple, we’d all put away our weapons
and pull out some dusty tome, wouldn’t we? Truth is, magic ain’t nearly as reliable as it is on most prime
worlds. Spellslingers have to keep in mind planar cosmology so they don’t try castin’ spells that rely on the
Astral Plane in the Inner Planes. That arrogant look won’t stay on their faces long when that important spell
fizzles. What’s worse, some parts o’ the multiverse make certain type of spells more difficult or impossible to
cast, meaning survival depends on old-fashioned, sweaty methods.

But properly prepared magic often makes the difference between a dead party and a live one. Spellcasters
worth their scrolls will allow for the basics. Have some spells to make light with, since not all planes have
much in the way of their own sources of illuminatin’. Tongues is real handy when talking to the weird bashers
most planewalkers run into. Lastly, avoid planar effects (or better yet, attune form) is a handy all-around spell
to keep casters and their friends alive.

Variant: Planar Environments Affecting Spells

Some DMs may feel that magic trivializes certain aspects of planewalking. Climbing the frigid peaks of
Ysgard isn’t as much of an adventure when using endure elements, nor is reaching a distant realm difficult
when using a teleport spell. There are a variety of ways the DM can choose to have the planes respond to
these spells, though the spells themselves become a bit more unreliable in doing so. Teleport and similar
spells may not be as accurate on more morphic (i.e. chaotic planes), and may fail altogether when
attempting to enter some realms or sacred areas as the powers there might wish to prevent outsiders from
finding them. When in regions of the multiverse that have particularly nasty environments as part of the
plane’s overall philosophy, spellcasters may find spells such as endure elements and attune form gradually
being eroded, their duration shortened or even requiring concentration to maintain after a certain point.
Players should eventually be able to overcome these restrictions or be able to find specialized spells that
work properly on the particular plane. In addition, spellcasters should always detect the latter complications
when casting a spell and magical items shouldn’t be affected, as there’s no cause for invalidating hard-
earned gold. The three most important things to keep in mind are not to drown players in tediousness,
don’t make them feel like their powers are useless, and be consistent. With that in mind, eventually players
will reach a point where hopping from plane to plane is a simple task, and it should be, if only to allow them
to deal with more interesting matters.

With that in mind, some places should never be accessible by normal spellcraft, including mysterious
places such as the seventh layer of Mount Celestia or the ninth layer of Baator. Whatever forces hold sway
there make sure no one can barge in uninvited (or leave without permission). Nor can one plane shift to
the Ordial Plane, if it truly exists. Some destinations simply require journeys more taxing than magic.

21
 Perspectives
Jordul spread himself out across the bench, his attention focused on the mimir’s words. Everything was so
different from what he had been taught about the planes back home. There was so much life here, so much
intrigue and conflict that it dwarfed the matters of his land. Indeed, the affairs of his home seemed small
compared to the common life of these planars. Surely, to achieve renown and greatness on the planes in the
name of the gods was a far greater service than he could’ve hoped to achieve otherwise.

Drawing some fruit to eat from a pouch at his side, Jordul lost himself in the mimir’s voice, not noticing the
small imp that had been perched upon the root above as it giggled and flew off…

“So, cutter, by now you’ve gotten the dark on how planars survive out here. Now it’s time to get into their
heads, have a look through their eyes at the wonders of the ’verse. It goes without saying that not everyone
sees things the same way, but unless you’re a real leatherhead by now you’ve figured out that belief is an
important part of planar society. And I’m not just rattling my silvery bone-box about how bashers think other
bashers should act (though there’s plenty of that going on), I’m talking about how different bashers think the
very multiverse works: how it came to be, where it’s going, and what a cutter can do to affect that. Virtually
every basher on the planes has an opinion on such things, and most are eager to argue their point. The
difference between planars and the clueless on the Prime is that here it matters what folks think; planars
aren’t arguing for intellectual delights (well, most aren’t). Get enough people to agree to some idea and
eventually it’ll make itself to be true. That’s the most important lesson to toss around in your brain-box as you
learn more about the planes: every bit of chant and screed is one more bit of power to hold over the
multiverse however you might wish.”

Orren Delaphage

Viewing the Multiverse

[Editor's note: Our first contributor, Orren Delaphage, was more than happy to aid in this work’s creation. The
tiefling is full of answers and speculations for any who will listen (and quite a few who won’t). One hopes that
this member of the Mind’s Eye faction doesn’t remake the multiverse in his own image. As with all of our
esteemed sources, our audience must separate the useful information from that which is less so.]

Ah, this is the great quest, is it not? To understand the workings of the multiverse, and one’s own place within
those very workings. Yes, this is the thing. Not all appreciate the truth of my words, but would do well to do
so. I will try to impart my accumulated wisdom to you and those who make use of your mimir. I do, after all,
have a vast wealth of experience in these matters.

All of the various factions and sects try to explain the multiverse in some fashion, and most work to shape the
multiverse to their liking. Culture has a large say in how a body looks at things, too; even those who never
join a faction have a particular view of the way things are, and of course, the planes have a staggering variety
of societies. Certainly, choosing the right faction aids a body in truly understanding things, but everyone has
some inkling. In some fashion, almost everyone supposes that belief has an affect on the multiverse to some
degree. Often, this is a simple faith that the multiverse is ordered by the various powers supported by their
worshippers. Ordinary sods can’t
do much about the way things
work, and just hope to get by,
understanding what they can. Of
course, the great among them
realize that there is more to
existence than that, and hope to
discover the dark of it all or make it
as they fit. No one seems to have
found the final answer yet; rather, if
they have, they aren’t sharing.
Some of us have arrived at a better
understanding than others, but
even I am still walking the planes,
learning to shape both the
multiverse and myself.

22
How the multiverse came to be is perhaps the topic of least interest for the typical planar. The majority of folk
don’t have much interest in the past, even that of only a few decades ago, so not much thought is put into the
beginning. And really, it’s not so much where the multiverse has been that is important, as where it is going.
Many believe the multiverse is older than even the most ancient fiends and celestials remember, so old that
there’s nothing left for evidence of previous eras to ponder over. A lot of bloods will at least point to some of
their own adventures in protest to this train of thought, as a number of relics and ruins are scattered across
the planes, forgotten and undisturbed for eons, but that’s not really enough to give a real idea of the past.
Some of the more naïve believe their powers gave birth to existence, but most bashers have seen enough
deities rise and fall to view any deity’s claims to be the first as screed. A lot of scholars think the cardinal
planes formed one by one, the Inner Planes forming first and providing substance for the Prime Material
Plane, then the thoughts and beliefs of that region forming the Outer Planes. Plenty of planars object to this
theory, though, if only because it means the Outer Planes came last. A few counter that the primordial forces
of Good and Evil, Law and Chaos, existed before time itself, and that the Outer Planes were formed around
them, followed much later by the Prime and the Inner Planes. Nowadays, some berks point to the Ordial as
the “source”, the beginning and the end of existence, and view its appearance as a portent of the end. Then
again, a few of the barmy and “enlightened” rattle their bone-boxes about overpowers and uberdeities
controlling entire cosmoses beyond our own. Goes to show what screed people are willing to consider,
doesn’t it?

Now the progression of the multiverse today, that’s the more interesting topic, and one that’s likely to get a lot
of debate at any pub. There’s plenty to argue about when talking about the state and purpose of the
multiverse, and it’s not hard to make friends or rivals based on one’s position. Sometimes it is best to keep to
oneself, though it is difficult not offer a helping hand to sods drowning in their own shortsighted beliefs. The
very fate of the multiverse is at stake after all, and our different beliefs clash at times. For instance, we of the
Mind’s Eye understand the multiverse is ascending to a new state of being, but the Doomguard believe the
multiverse is gradually moving towards oblivion. Certainly, there’s no talking to someone with such a
blinkered view. Still others proclaim the end will come with a great apocalyptic battle to finally determine what
moral and ethical force is right. On the other hand, you might think that the planes retain a status quo, the
opposing forces that compose the Inner and Outer Planes staying in a relative balance. Well you’re flat
wrong, berk, so drop that idea now. Make no mistake, this is a war. It may not always involve great armies
and mighty warriors (though it often does), but each side is doing everything it can to gain the upper hand
every day. You can certainly see that such disparate beliefs cannot always exist side by side quietly. You
simply can’t live on the planes for long without witnessing firsthand the effects of this struggle on the billions
of lives across the multiverse, with only the most apathetic or cynical able to chalk it up to some balance of
powers. Planars choose sides and they support them, even planewalkers, who arguably encounter the widest
range of beliefs and outlooks. It is up to you to choose the right side, of course. That is, if you’re smart.

That being said, what does someone do to support their side and affect the multiverse? The average bashers
live their lives and support their beliefs whenever convenient, neither letting their beliefs consume their lives
nor falling to the wayside. Of course, many truly strive to follow their ideal paths and convince others to do so
as well, and they normally find reward in return for their work and sacrifice. On the other hand, a small few
simply don’t care enough about their beliefs or come to think no belief has more merit than any other.
Longtime residents of the Cage are often said to develop this level of apathy. (Methinks it was a blessing to
be forced out of that ant-hill. There are plenty of gates on the Outlands and so much more potential.) In either
case these berks are typically either swept up in the crossfire or fade into obscurity as they find their lives
shallow and empty. Do not fall into that trap. I will even go so far, grudgingly, to say that it’s better to choose
any belief over none at all.

Alicia De'Morlina

Belief
[Editor's note: Bitterness can lead a person through many things as Alicia's story proves. Once a devoted
follower of a now dead god, she turned to the Athar after coming upon his corpse in the Astral. After the Athar
left Sigil (along with every other faction there), she's now turned to another philosophy of a sorts. One can
find her out in the Outlands – usually sampling the wines at the local inn of questionable repute. ]
Oh please, do sit down. Buy me a drink if you will, unless you're here just to stare at the one Athar who's
walked away from the Spire and not got struck down for it yet. In which case, you can take your scrawny little
tail out that door and remember I ain’t an Athar anymore. Ah, you wish to record my thoughts on the matter in
your little mimir there. Heh…well, I can tell you this about belief, too damn many people have too damn much
of it. But, here’s how it goes if you insist. Your listeners should prepare themselves for a right earful.

23
Belief affects the planes. I’m not talking about how one berk believes something and it affects his actions,
which affect other actions and so on. Rubbish that is, and I get tired of Guvner’s trying to work out how a
butterfly’s wing flap on Arcadia changed battles in the Blood War. No, what I’m going to tell you about is direct
— the power of a person’s belief acting to really change things.

It’s not just a coincidence that the Nine Hells, the Abyss, and all the other Lower Planes reflect the ideas of
punishment and evil on so many prime worlds. They are the ideas, made material. Same goes for Mount
Celestia, Elysium, or anywhere, really. Outer Planes being all the same in the end: belief made manifest. You
get enough people together believing in the same thing and I’m sure you could make some major changes in
the planes that way. For the good or for the worse I wouldn’t be able to say. But it’s a powerful force. Bigger
than just ’bout any mortal, I would imagine. Maybe even more than a god…

Anyways, how does this relate to what I was saying? Well, it goes to show you — belief can make planes,
shift planes, even destroy planes. Or people, or gods, for that matter. Why do you think a power guards its
worshippers and petitioners so strongly? Without them, they die. And I can tell you, I’ve seen plenty of those
out there. Sit yourself down on some old dead god’s corpse in the Astral and you’ll get some perspective on
things, I can tell you.

So, how do we get around to changing things? Well, there’s groups out there, I’m sure you’ve heard of them,
factions. All fighting, all believing, and it seems like none of them agreeing. Not a blasted one of them willing
to let anyone else win, be that because they think everyone else is barmy or they don’t want to fade away like
the powers themselves. But if you lean in real close I’ll tell you something else:

None of them are right.

So when the Lady’s edict came down, I was right happy ‘bout that. They think it takes so much belief to
change things that everyone’s got to believe the same thing to make it work. Bully for them, why haven’t
things changed yet? The Hardheads have themselves a whole world after all, but I don’t see the Abyss
blinking an eye. (I won’t go into that much more, might get m’self tossed out of my favorite bar, I might.) And
when the factions were shoved out of Sigil? Well, I’d say that just proves my point, wouldn’t you? There’s a
right answer out there somewhere, and they don’t have it, which is why they can’t get enough people to
believe it. At least when the primes first imagined things, they were going on a simple belief in their own
existence, nothing too fancy about it.

Which leaves us with this, why would someone keep going along with a faction if things didn’t seem to be
changing no matter how hard they worked? Well, belief from one person doesn’t have a drop of water’s
chance on the Plane of Fire of doing anything to the planes as a whole, but oh, how it works for the individual.
Belief fuels the powers you see these factioneers holding. An Athar’s clerical spells — now don’t look at me
that way boy, I said clerical, I meant it; it smacks of the divine. You want details, you walk to the base of the
Spire and ask them yourself. Blind faith in nothing is still blind. Anyways, an Athar’s spells, the Dusties’ way
with the dead, a Ring-giver’s luck, an Indep’s uncanny resistance to enchantment, even a Cipher’s ability to
smell trouble brewing. This is from their belief, in themselves, their purpose, their philosophy. Its no ‘I will it to
be so, and so it is’ sort of deal, it’s more like ‘It is, and so it is.’ But for that you have to really believe in it, if
you have a doubt, then you’re just not going to get much of anywhere. There’s nothing sadder than seeing a
Cipher namer trip and fall.

True belief is a powerful thing to have backing you, and when reinforced by others, even more so. Most of the
more potent faction abilities wouldn’t work without the shared belief of its members, after all. Good luck
getting everyone to agree with you, though. That’s why they wanted Sigil so bad, you know? It’s about as
central as they come, a good place to work from, and some
graybeards say a good place to spin the rest of the planes from.
If you can change something there, then, well, it’ll snow ball out
to the entire multiverse, so goes the theory. If you can prove that
one, I’ll buy you a drink. But you don’t need the entire multiverse
on your side to shake things up. Why, the Harmoniums managed
to cause the third layer of Arcadia to move to Mechanus not to
long ago, and that was by accident. Course getting it back has
been more difficult, but it’s definitely given them something to
reflect on. Just cause no one’s truly figured out the dark of the
planes yet isn’t any reason to be ignorant of the power belief has.

24
But hey, you obviously know how to park your ears to those with the chant, so I’ll let you and your prospective
listeners know something most berks don’t have a clue about. Few people can muster up the belief to affect
the planes on their own, so they gather in groups. But there are bloods out there with such conviction that the
planes themselves listen. I’m not talking about the powers, but genuine mortals with the ability to shape the
world around all by themselves. Rumor has they’ve got to be barmy to do it, or in some state that transcends
anything we know. Eh? No, I’ve never seen one myself, but I’ve heard about it from very reliable sources.

Orren Delaphage

Philosophy
Ah, philosophy. The theory behind the practice, as it were. How we view the planes shapes our lives in more
ways than one might imagine. Oh, indeed, religion is part of that, certainly. Communing with the divine (or at
least their servants) allows one to see the real potential out there. No, no, I have no final answers. I’m still
here, aren’t I? My quest is not yet done, though I may be further along it than you. Ah, but who am I to judge?
We all must find our own way in this great journey to enlightenment and beyond.

Most planars are taught some form of philosophy from an early age; not necessarily how the multiverse is,
but how it should be. Of course, one learns the proper powers to propitiate soon afterwards, but it is an
important distinction. Few planars follow a deity merely because it was what they grew up with; instead the
principles that deity represents are so important to one’s way of thinking it only makes sense to devote
themselves to their divine manifestation. Thus any planar worth his weight can not only tell you what they
believe, but argue why they believe it. Many bashers continue in this way their whole lives, never looking
further than what they were first taught, to say nothing of the petitioners or exemplar, who are literally born
into their ways and unlikely to change them.

On the other hand, few realms are truly isolated from the rest of the ‘verse, and those who planewalk
inevitably encounter other ways of thinking. It’s rare to find a power that isn’t interested in spreading its faith
beyond its realm, and then there are the factions. Most factions and sects have their dedicated proselytizers
who will be more than happy to share the philosophy and ideals that are the core of their organization. Not
too long ago, before the War, many faction members were caught up more in politics and bureaucracy than in
the belief systems that should have been their focus. Now that our governance of Sigil has been relinquished,
we’re able to return to greater matters: shaping the very multiverse itself, not just the laws and commerce of a
city. The factions certainly still hold positions of great influence throughout the planes, but by and large we
have returned fully to the great debate. Philosophy often gets a bad name from those who do not understand
and engage in it. Only the truly clueless look down upon it as dreamy nonsense, with nothing practical about
it. Bar that! Only a right leatherhead bangs around without any sense of what it all means. We live and die by
our philosophies and for our gods, cutter.

A Very Large Dragon

Religion
[Editor's note: The mimir that provided this transcript was retrieved
bearing the marks of some rather teethy gnawing. Out of a sense of
duty to my readers, as I certainly wouldn't want any of you harmed
by following what you read here, I must warn you to travel with
caution on the Outlands. There are many powerful and interesting
beings who may consider you tasty in a tomato sauce. Further
expeditions to obtain the actual name of this dragon have failed, in
no small way due to an inability to return to the same place in the
Outlands. Information regarding this entity would be welcome.]
Please, sit. I can assure you in this place we have all the time in the
planes for your little interview… I did tell you to sit, did I not? Do you
need further invitation? Stop trembling in your boots – I am still
digesting my last meal. Besides, the fact that you have come to me
with such a request intrigues me. That is why you are here, is it not?
To ask about gods. Powers. Immortal beings worshipped by mortals.
And to ask about religion, and perhaps your own place within it? I
see it is – place your mimir before you and listen, mortal.

25
Factions and philosophers do not hold dominance over faith on the planes. There are many religions here,
and they serve a purpose – like religions on the primes – within the places and communities that follow them.
On the Prime, religion serves as a binding force, the blessings of a cleric on the crops, the social niceties of
living in a community… all of that continues here on the planes as well. The common man, or the common
dragon as I myself would be more concerned with, still worships, and still needs the attentions of their
powers. Mortals feel a need for the watchful gaze of a power, and so religion still has a place here. But the
gods serve an even greater role in the planes than that. As embodiments of the values most struggle to
follow, they are a symbol of that belief’s strength, their realms proof of what it can be accomplished. Deities
might not always be revered as forces beyond mortal comprehension (which only goes to how arrogant
mortals can be), but there will never be a group better suited as role models for the planes.
Is religion greater here than on the Prime? Well. That is certainly a question, is it not? The Prime Material is
infinite. But then – so are the planes as well. Arguably one could say that one place is as good as the other.
But there is no doubt that the Prime is core to the power of a deity. Aside from their realm, most of a power’s
attention is inevitably drawn first to the conflicts of the prime worlds where they hold sway, and to the rest of
the planes second.

Perhaps it is that here, on the planes, the believers begin to understand that there are more things in
existence than a god? Having seen Heaven and Hell, maybe the faith of a planar is shaken? Perhaps even
the powers play “fair” and leave the planes to determine their own course, guided by the hands of general
belief instead of the dictates of a customized mythology? One would have to ask a power directly to find the
true answer to that, but the sight alone would likely kill one such as you. Myself? I have a very long view of
things – I would say the Prime simply has less… competition for a power to deal with. No pesky fiends or
obnoxious archons to counter the words of a power to its followers.

Still, a planar, though they share the planes with their gods, isn’t held up to any greater standard than their
peers on the Prime. They will still go to Heaven or Hell at their deity's whim (which is why some choose not to
put their faith in the hands of a power at all, trusting in the belief that they will end up on an appropriate plane
on their own). Indeed, planars can abandon a power and turn to a new one, with no greater likelihood of
divine retribution, though I would not presume to speak for the servants or other passionate followers of a
power.

The Powers
Religion and belief are intertwined concepts on the face of the Outer Planes. The planes are shaped by
belief, and religion is a powerful tool in the creation of belief. But the deities themselves reside within the
planes and are shaped by them in turn. Did the powers create the multiverse, or the multiverse create the
powers? To listen to the myths of mortals, and knowing the influence of belief – it does raise the question,
does it not? Then there are the exceptions; the Athar – amusing god defiers that they are – obtain their own
clerical gifts, and the Ciphers claim to have contacted something beyond the senses of a power as well. But
there can be no doubt that deities make their homes here. Tiamat in Baator, Bahamut at the foot of Mount
Celestia, old Chronepsis in the Outlands, the Greek pantheon upon Mt. Olympus, or the entire Celestial
Bureaucracy if that is your inclination.

Gods on the planes command much power. Within their own domains – their homes you may call it – they are
supreme. They may deny one entrance, remove the ground beneath your feet, and destroy you in a moment
for your impertinence. Many primes, on their first trip to the planes, expect that they can simply go to the
realm of a particular god, knock on the front door, and be invited in for tea and learn the mysteries of the
cosmos. While there are some who may be so lighthearted as to share a drink with a worshipper in the
morning, the vast majority are far far to busy to do so. The downcast look on the face of primes when they
discover that their power has no time for them is both heartbreaking and amusing. The gods are no more
accessible here than they were back home. While their realms are here and may be visited, the powers
themselves make themselves scarce, and it’s probably better that way. They are beyond mortals and do not
appear without urgent cause, and even then they must severely limit themselves, for the sight of a deity (and
some truly powerful exemplar) is enough to kill. One instead deals with the petitioners, proxies, and other
attendants of the deities who act on their behalf.

26
It can be quite a risky business, searching for a god. But then, you are obviously brave enough to seek
audience with one such as I. A select few of the truly worthy may receive the honor of facing a god, but rarely
does it come without giving up something in return.

Malkan

Magic and Psionics

[Editor's note: The githzerai Malkan grudgingly invited us into his walking tower to talk briefly about the mystic
arts (both external and internal), a subject he has no small experience with. During our meeting, his tower
tromped across the Outlands constantly. Malkan was periodically Perhaps it is that here, on the planes, the
believers begin to understand that there are more things in existence than a god? Having seen Heaven and
Hell, maybe the faith of a planar is shaken? Perhaps even the powers play “fair” and leave the planes to
determine their own course, guided by the hands of general belief instead of the dictates of a customized
mythology? One would have to ask a power directly to find the true answer to that, but the sight alone would
likely kill one such as you. Myself? I have a very long view of things – I would say the Prime simply has
less… competition for a power to deal with. No pesky fiends or obnoxious archons to counter the words of a
power to its followers.

Still, a planar, though they share the planes with their gods, isn’t held up to any greater standard than their
peers on the Prime. They will still go to Heaven or Hell at their deity's whim (which is why some choose not to
put their faith in the hands of a power at all, trusting in the belief that they will end up on an appropriate plane
on their own). Indeed, planars can abandon a power and turn to a new one, with no greater likelihood of
divine retribution, though I would not presume to speak for the servants or other passionate followers of a
power.

The Powers
Religion and belief are intertwined concepts on the face of the Outer Planes. The planes are shaped by
belief, and religion is a powerful tool in the creation of belief. But the deities themselves reside within the
planes and are shaped by them in turn. Did the powers create the multiverse, or the multiverse create the
powers? To listen to the myths of mortals, and knowing the influence of belief – it does raise the question,
does it not? Then there are the exceptions; the Athar – amusing god defiers that they are – obtain their own
clerical gifts, and the Ciphers claim to have contacted something beyond the senses of a power as well. But
there can be no doubt that deities make their homes here. Tiamat in Baator, Bahamut at the foot of Mount
Celestia, old Chronepsis in the Outlands, the Greek pantheon upon Mt. Olympus, or the entire Celestial
Bureaucracy if that is your inclination.

Gods on the planes command much power. Within their own domains – their homes you may call it – they are
supreme. They may deny one entrance, remove the ground beneath your feet, and destroy you in a moment
for your impertinence. Many primes, on their first trip to the planes, expect that they can simply go to the
realm of a particular god, knock on the front door, and be invited in for tea and learn the mysteries of the
cosmos. While there are some who may be so lighthearted as to share a drink with a worshipper in the
morning, the vast majority are far far to busy to do so. The downcast look on the face of primes when they
discover that their power has no time for them is both heartbreaking and amusing. The gods are no more
accessible here than they were back home. While their realms are here and may be visited, the powers
themselves make themselves scarce, and it’s probably better that way. They are beyond mortals and do not
appear without urgent cause, and even then
they must severely limit themselves, for the
sight of a deity (and some truly powerful
exemplar) is enough to kill. One instead
deals with the petitioners, proxies, and other
attendants of the deities who act on their
behalf.
It can be quite a risky business, searching
for a god. But then, you are obviously brave
enough to seek audience with one such as I.
A select few of the truly worthy may receive
the honor of facing a god, but rarely does it
come without giving up something in return.

27
 Malkan

Magic and Psionics

[Editor's note: The githzerai Malkan grudgingly invited us into his walking tower to talk briefly about the mystic
arts (both external and internal), a subject he has no small experience with. During our meeting, his tower
tromped across the Outlands constantly. Malkan was periodically distracted, as he peered out his study
window, sometimes looking for the position of the Spire, but sometimes scanning the horizon for something.
There seemed to be a sigh of relief when whatever he was looking out for failed to appear.]

Watch where you sit, blast your eyes! You almost knocked over that alembic. Think you that it be easy to
balance laboratory glassware in a walking tower? Nay, it is not, berk, ’tis a most delicate art indeed, and your
thundering big self almost knocked it all down. Come into my home and treat my things so shoddy, will you?
All right, all right, so you didn’t mean no harm. Neither does the Negative Energy Plane when it grinds your
soul to less than dust. But fine, fine, just see you be careful, or I’ll turn you into a puddle of ooze and keep
your mimir for my notebook. All right, have you settled yourself down? Fine, fine. So, you wish me to prattle
on about magic. Ah, and the psionic arts, too. Very well, to begin, the magical arts and the powers of the mind
are common throughout the planes. And though many possess some magical skills, whether from rigorous
study or their own innate abilities, magic still generates a fine amount of wonder in the ordinary, thronging
berks.

While some bloods like to present a jaded, cynical persona, many are still as taken aback by such abilities as
any clueless prime. But generally speaking, we are no more feared or distrusted than anyone else; we aren’t
burnt at the stake or regulated against as we are on some paranoid prime worlds (though some realms are
less tolerant than others, to be sure). We also don’t get nearly enough respect, at least no more than a
basher who’s equally as good with a blade or pretty words. Well, the spellcasters who commune with the
divine get more notice, perhaps. With the realms of the powers themselves sitting close by, divine
spellslingers get shown respect, awe, and fear, depending on the religious affiliations of whoever they’re
talking to.

If you’re looking for a good, solid source for arcane knowledge in the multiverse, talk to the Guvners; many
mages do, and have come to share their interpretation of arcane magic. Because of that, the wide belief is
that magic is simply an underlying system of rules and laws that alter the normal order of reality. There’s
indeed quite a bit of truth in that, and it certainly makes it easier to get things done. Magical talent may be an
individual matter, but those who can learn magic are not inherently special. Likewise, while the deities of
magic may hold more sway over it than anyone else, they are neither the source nor the arbiters of magical
power. Educated planars don’t believe in the Weave that those from the prime world Toril harp on about, and
they think less of the dependency of spellslingers from worlds like Athas and Krynn on natural channels, such
as the moons, useless constrictions contrived by ignorant primes that they are. Why make extra trouble when
there’s enough to be found on the planes?

Likewise, psionic powers are considered by most to be another form of arcane magic; it works differently than
arcane or divine magic, but the results are similar enough. The fact that magic and psionics interact to a
certain extent only reinforces this notion. Thus, a lot of berks confuse psionicists with arcane spellcasters, but
bloods know the difference. Any cutter taking the time to really understand how psionics operate sees such
manifesters in a completely new light; the ability to affect the multiverse by will alone reminds them of how
belief shapes the multiverse, rightly enough. Some even hold the theory that psionics are the next step in
mastering the natural ability all beings have to shape reality to some degree. The Astral Plane in particular is
a likely place to run into planars who have psionic powers, both those with naturally occurring abilities and
those who make the study of the powers of the mind their life’s work. That plane is able to be molded by the
thoughts of cutters skilled in psionics. Too bad that the plane’s lousy with the vile githyanki; if you want to
manipulate the fabric of a plane, go to Limbo. My people may not be the friendliest out there, I’ll admit, but
we’re a damn sight better than our twisted cousins. And there be the basic chant, and I could go on even
further, but I know most of your listeners will be unable to keep up with me, so I shan’t waste my breath.

Since the Weave extends to the planes, then Mystra controls all planar magic!
Nope. When using prime characters from different Campaign Settings there are bound to be some inconsistencies with how
magic functions, particularly with worlds where magic has unique restrictions and practices. How such magic works on the
planes is up to the DM, but as a default rule magic should function normally so long as the spellcaster follows the normal
system of magic for their world. This does not mean other people need follow the same system or placate the same gods,
which may invite all sorts of questions as to the nature of magic, how their magic functions, and whether the way the
characters were taught magic is even necessary. Players are encouraged to take such opportunities to explore their own
paradigm of magic and use it as a path to evolve their characters.

28
 Walliford Goldenwrench

Technology
[Editor's note: The gnome Walliford Goldenwrench of Tvashtri’s Workshop was one of our most hospitable
hosts, as well as being a well of wisdom when it comes to the industrious arts.]
Ah, you wanna know about all the devices the planes have to offer a cutter, eh? ’Suppose I’m as good as any
to ask, seeing as how I know my way around a workshop, and am always on the lookout for new gadgets and
techniques. Have yourself a seat and rest, whiles I pontificate on the many technological wonders of the
planes.

Now, the technological knowledge of planar society ain’t much different than what a body finds on prime
worlds like Toril or Oerth. However, the staggering amount of cultures that make their homes on the planes
bring with them an equally staggering variety of devices, tools, and implements. Even I’m continuously struck
dumb by the amazing things planars come up with. In some realms there live craftsmen, tinkers, and
architects whose skills simply shame their Clueless cousins. It’s not just that they might have technology
decades before it reaches the primes, they often have several life spans to master a trade, making prime
masterwork items look like trinkets. Magic can also help create and power spectacular devices, and the
followers of the powers of invention are always coming up with something unique, though such wonders may
never be replicated again. Which is too bad, I suppose, but sometimes a thing’s singular beauty is its best
quality, Tvashtri knows.

Some places appear at first glance to have a much higher level of technology than can be found on prime
worlds, but the dark of it is that magic and divine power are often needed to run things. Even lawful
Mechanus, with its gears, modrons, inevitables, and other wondrous devices, is fueled by supernatural
power. Then again, perhaps the dark of it really is that these marvels of science function because of the belief
put into their design and the powers that uphold such laws. Whatever principles keep it going, it’s all the
same to most planewalkers. Sure, someone like me is always curious about the hows and whys of such
things, but I hope I never do lann the dark of it all. Much better to retain a bit of mystery, I says, then to rip the
veil away altogether.

Of course, there are also plenty of

races out there without much in their
brain-boxes, or little interest in
working with tools. Then there are
realms that seem a bit backwards,
like the home of the Olympian
pantheon, or the lands of tribal
powers. The bashers there aren’t
leatherheads, though. Certainly, they
could trade for iron weapons, or learn
to forge themselves. Their own ideas
of culture keep them using archaic
tools, though. And if Zeus wanted his
petitioners to have steel and clocks,
he’d give ’em those things. Best not
to get your patron piked off, berk, or
mess with the edicts of another over
their followers for that matter. And as
hard as it may be to believe, there
are cultures out there that don’t have
much contact with others, hiding out
on the Inner Planes or wandering the
distant expanses of other planes.
Scrounging for what materials they
can, and rarely in a position to learn
from others, such folk often remain in
a comparatively primitive state. But
that might be the point, after all.

29
 Planar Society

The word that truly defines planar society is diversity. Unlike the view of many primes that each plane is
isolated and secluded from the others, all planes interact with one another regularly, and travel between them
is a normal part of life. Moreover, every race in existence can be found on the planes; all of their different
cultures come together in the planar cities, developing one of the most mixed, unusual, and exotic societies
possible. Fey live next door to half-dragons, celestials drink in taverns with githzerai, dwarves work the forges
next to elven merchants. Every race contributes a part of their society to that of the planes, and in the
process gains a little something from the way of life of other races. This diversity teaches skills and ideas that
one could not normally learn from their own people, and at the same time spreads racial tolerance on a level
that many prime cities fail to achieve.

Ezzekial Tarash

[Editor's note: Ezzekial Tarash was an obvious choice speak with regarding planar society, as one who has
experienced the highest pinnacles and the lowest nadirs. Was a time when the bright and shining aasimar
(skin like burnished gold, I heard one lady admiringly put it) lived a life of elegance and comfort. What made
him give all that up to tend to the dregs and castoffs of society is unknown to us, but one can occasionally
see a glint of that gold beneath the grime and despair.]

You ask me of planar society? Well, I suppose I can speak of such things. I can spare some brief moments,
but I have much work ahead of me before I sleep tonight. There are the starving to fed and the naked to be
clothed. Forgive me, for while I understand the importance of knowledge, sometimes we must start with the
basics. Yes, in my youth I flew as high in planar society as those of my father’s bloodline do in the clouds
above the Upper Planes. But know this: Not all who fall are pushed. There came a time when I could not bear
to look on the suffering below me any longer. There are those who call me barmy for doing so, and not least
because I have worn the badge of the Bleak Cabal. But I have walked with the high and the low, and have
seen all walks of life in my time, and understood something of them all.

Professions
Throughout the planes, communities must be self-sufficient. If they do not have the resources under their
direct control, they know where to get them, by barter or force. Within their communities, they are bound to
have members who follow the common trades, such as blacksmithing, scribing, animal husbandry, religious
service, and combat training. More exotic professions, those that are not as essential to the most basic
community, such as alchemists, lawyers, and wizards, are still likely to be found in most regions unless the
inhabitants have a particular dislike of them. Large cities, even on planes with extraordinary characteristics,
tend to draw specialists from a wide variety of fields, making even exotic arts and crafts available to those
who know how to find them.

While trade specialists may

demand quite a bit more jink
that the average trade
house, it is usually easy to
start a business even in the
most competitive areas
simply by knowing people
(and in many cases, setting
up shop where useful
portals are). And there’s
normally open positions
among the town’s
defenders, whether they be
the local adventuring party
or an organized militia. Of
course it’d be impossible to
break down every burg’s
society, but there are some
fields that are relatively
universal.

30
 Marila Tendershoot

Merchants
[Editor's note: The halfling Marila Tendershoot gave us a bit of information regarding her profession (or
former profession, as it were). Anyone who spends time with her will certainly be impressed by her undamped
spirit. We had meant to speak with her further for the Coin and Commerce section, but she had some other
engagement to get to, and we were unable to reschedule another interview.]
Oh, you want to talk, eh? I suppose I’m not doing anything better right now, though why you’d want to talk
about the trader’s life with a failure like me is, I don’t know. Yeah, that’s right — a failure. Sure, not too long
ago, I was riding high, with more coins than my best accountant could keep track of. I moved goods back and
forth across the planes, and made a good living at it. Especially on the produce from Green Fields, friend. No
one grows juicier fruits and veggies than the halflings. Then that damned Planar Trade Consortium tried to
muscle in on it all, and I told them to pike it. Well, maybe I should’ve just sold my business to ’em, ’cause they
took it anyway. It burns me something fierce to see the farmers of Green Fields selling to those knights of the
post. It’s a shame when you can’t even trust your own kind. Ah well, I suppose that’s business. Enough of my
complainin’. I’ll get back in the game soon enough, believe me. You haven’t seen the last of this little lady. So,
anyway, let me give you the benefit of my knowledge.

Trade is truly what keeps the cogs of planar society turning. As much as regional rulers or highups may try to
deny it, without merchants the planes would surely grind to a halt. Indeed, most of Sigil’s golden lords have
made their fortunes entirely on trafficking commerce, and even those who didn’t can more often than not
trace inherited wealth back to a merchant in the family. Trade is the lifeblood of the planes; it’s why Planar
Trade, the common language used by most planar races, was developed. It keeps the rich rich and entire
planar cities running.

As you should expect then, the merchant profession is one of the most widespread on the planes, with
everyone wantin’ a piece of the action, if only they can grab hold. And why not, when merchants have so
much power and influence? If all trade with the City of Doors stopped (and it has before, basher), the
inhabitants would starve, as food production is almost impossible there. Because of that important fact, even
the simplest, most seemingly inconsequential merchant is part of a larger web of trade that keeps the planes,
as they are today, intact. And that means competition. With all the wealth and power that a cutter can grab
with trade, and with larger organizations selfishly guarding routes and portals, they’re bound to cross swords,
sometimes literally. I tell you this, at times the conflicts between traders rival that expected of the powers
themselves. Get out of the way if you’re smart, berk.

Well, as important as trade is, some places are less welcoming to merchants than others. Visitors to Curst
have a tough time leaving again; the gate guards interrogate all who try to leave about their reasons for doing
so to determine who gets to go. The githzerai ain’t warm to strangers; visitors to their homes in Limbo have to
stay in the foreign districts, and can only travel elsewhere with a guide. Their cousins, the githyanki, are even
less friendly, but some astral fortresses have foreign districts for those times when they’d rather parlay than
take by force. The demon lord Graz’zt is more welcoming of merchants than most of his kind, even
mercilessly punishing those who harm traders. But then, the goristro at the gate makes traders hand over the
better part of their profits on exiting. But sometimes a raw deal is better than no deal at all, so figure out your
margin and take what you can.

Ezzekial Tarash

Clergy
The planes are the homes of the powers themselves, the deific beings worshiped by the inhabitants of the
multiverse, sometimes as the almighty creators of not only life, but of existence itself. The closest servants of
these divine figures travel the planes, from the darkest, most depraved fiends of the Lower Planes, to the
angelic proxies of the Upper Planar deities. In the Outer Planes, the powers have a great deal of control over
the planes’ terrain and properties; within their own realms, their whims are absolute. While most primes would
think that the Great Wheel is the place where the gods are most strongly supported, and although it is true
that the powers’ closest servants dwell here, the attitude of the average planar is somewhat different.

31
In general, the gods and their followers are treated with a certain level of awe and suspicion by most of the
inhabitants of the planes. Maybe it’s the simple fact that a wrong word in the wrong place can result in an
unpleasant demise at the hands of a proxy, but it may be because in a place where everything is possible,
the powers aren’t as mystifying. Yes, they are immensely powerful, and many still pay lip service to them, but
when living on a plane that the gods actually inhabit, their limitations become all too obvious in time. In the
end, though the gods may assist us, we are the ones who make our destiny. The choices are ours, to make of
this present life what we will. That is what morality is for, not for fear of what awaits us when we’re deaders.

The two most obvious cases of the powers’ apparent weakness are Sigil and the Spire. The Lady of Pain has
barred all powers from Sigil, and none have succeeded in coming close to taking the city from Her (the name
of the Maimed God is actively avoided in polite conversation in, and around those from, Sigil). The second
location, the Spire, appears to drain all magical and deific powers the closer one travels to its base, much to
the discomfort of the powers, who actively avoid going there if it can be helped, though they are known to
meet there on occasion, since it provides a truly neutral ground.

Despite the apparent lack of love for the powers, some of the most majestic and awe-inspiring temples have
been constructed on planar territory. It is indeed the case that we love our gods passionately still. The clergy
of the planes have a level of devotion that puts the Prime to shame, another affect of the double-edged sword
that is the powers’ proximity. Clerics and priests are still shown an obvious level of respect when near, though
at the same time many a peery glance is thrown their way. As for the common planar, rather than worshipping
a deity for their claim of creating the cosmos, bashers choose their faith based on the beliefs the deity
upholds and how its followers go about living their cause.

Adventuring
Adventuring on the planes is less a chosen profession, and more a part of life for most planars. Any extended
travel across the planes could be regarded by a prime as an extraordinary adventure on par with the strange
occurrences described in legend, as battles with fiends or even stranger creatures are common even on
minor journeys. As a result, almost all planar inhabitants have some training in adventuring, including those
who would prefer sticking to their own homes. My own past includes training in such, though perhaps my
skills are rusty now that I have dedicated myself to the needs of others.
Those that do decide to take up adventuring fulltime are known as planewalkers. Planewalkers devote their
lives to exploring the planes for a variety of reasons, whether it be for a cause, personal enlightenment,
wealth, or in an attempt to discover as much as they can about the planes. A planewalker is widely versed in
the lore of the planes, and must learn about the conditions and effects of each plane if they are to survive for
long. As such, those that survive tend to gain a large amount of respect from common folk.

Adventuring Companies/Guilds
The adventuring companies and guilds of the planes are almost limitless in numbers. Ranging from the likes
of the Illuminated, a now deceased group of prime mercenaries
based around the former gate-town Plague-mort, to influential and
powerful groups such as the Planewalker’s Guild. Most adventuring
companies are simply an unofficial gathering of like-minded
individuals who realize that together they stand a better chance of
surviving the hazards of life on the planes. Such groups often hire
themselves out as mercenaries in between adventures, though many
find the restrictions of long-term contract work too limiting.

Other adventuring groups are contractually bound to larger

organizations for greater periods of time. For example, the ruling
council of the City of Glass on the Elemental Plane of Water
regularly sponsors adventuring groups to patrol the waters
surrounding the city, supplementing the official guards. Similarly,
some groups may also work under the patronage of sects or even
one of the factions. Sects from the Planarists to the Godslayers have
been known to use adventuring groups to further their goals, and
several parties are known to have the favor of the factions such as
the Mind’s Eye or Sons of Mercy.

32
Mercenaries
Mercenary work is a near integral part of planar society, particularly around the major planar cities. Often the
line between adventurers and mercenaries is hazy, as guarding supplies or escorting employers across the
planes is probably the easiest way to gain prestige, a bit of jink, and see some of the planes while you’re at it.
Mercenaries are regularly employed to guard the numerous trade caravans as they trail from one city to
another, and considering the khaasta raiders of the Outlands, the tanar’ri hunting groups of the Abyss, and
the barbarian war parties of Ysgard, it is understandable that a large proportion of spending by traders is in
securing protection for their wares. That is sometimes the way of things: holding on to what you have, from
those who would steal or kill for it. A miserable state of affairs, to say the least.

Though many mercenaries work in small teams, there are still several large-scale groups dedicated to
mercenary work throughout the planes, foremost of these being the Sodkillers. If you have anything needing
to be done, no matter how dubious, you can guarantee there is a Sodkiller willing to do it, for the right price of
course. Although Sodkillers operate primarily in Sigil, under the guise of the Minders Guild, it is well known
that their organization spreads further, and it is not uncommon to find them operating headquarters on most
planes (though they are generally unpopular amongst inhabitants of the Upper Planes).

Aside from the Sellswords, the yugoloth are the most well-known mercenaries for their integral part in the
Blood War. While the baatezu and tanar’ri are their most popular clientele, they’re willing to sell their services
to anyone that catches their interest. Chant has it that a hundred gold is the standard rate, with an extra ten
thousand to keep them from betraying you in the next few days. Not that they take any job they can’t work to
their advantage anyways. Always be peery of whom you deal with, for there are many out there who will think
nothing of bobbing you.

Social Class
Unfortunately, social class on the planes is even more of a factor than on the Prime. The rich are wealthy
beyond imagination, capable of buying entire prime worlds, requiring extensive teams of clerks simply to keep
record of their ever-expanding wealth. The poorest are the lowest of the low, miserable wretches who are not
even regarded as sentient by the aloof, arrogant nobility, their existences so far removed from each other.
Despite outward appearances, physical wealth is not all that defines the social hierarchy of the planes, but
influence as well. Although wealth is almost always a product of influence, the nobility have so much money
available to them that it becomes meaningless. As a result, control of those around you is the social ‘currency’
of the planes, and it is what truly separates the nobility from those beneath them.

Peasantry
In the Upper Planes, peasants usually live reasonably enjoyable, yet simple lives. They work the fields, tend
to flocks, or work as simple craftsmen. Though their understanding of the workings of the planes would be
considered highly advanced by prime terms, they generally know little of the hidden politics of the planes, and
most live out reasonably normal and peaceful lives. This existence is not perfect, but it has a quiet beauty
about it. But the poor of the Lower Planes are not nearly so lucky. Most regard their existence as a living hell,
the lucky forced into slavery by their fiendish lords, the less fortunate brutally slaughtered for entertainment.
Many are reduced to an animalistic state simply to survive; those that do survive sport horrific physical and
mental scars.

It is far harder to define a rule of how the cities of the Border and Inner Planes treat their peasantry,
depending mostly on the attitudes of the city rulers and nobility. For example, the genie cities of the Elemental
Planes actively encourage slavery, though such workers lead much more humane lives than their
counterparts on the Lower Planes.

Working Class
The working class usually makes up the ranks of the trained craftsmen on the Upper Planes, such as
blacksmiths or carpenters. The boundaries between working class and the peasantry are far less defined on
the Upper Planes, as suffering is kept to a minimum. On the Lower Planes, the working class lives a slightly
better life than that of a slave, as at least the illusion of freedom is maintained. Although a member of this
class may think they have control of their life, they are usually subtly manipulated by their superiors to some
other end.

33
In most other areas of the planes members of the working class maintain similar roles; they are usually the
owners of small properties, such as shops or taverns, and their wealth generally provides their children with a
reasonable level of education. The life of a working class citizen of the planes is generally decent by planar
standards, though they usually know, and have seen, much more of the planes than a prime ever will in a
lifetime. And of course, those in this class often strive to ascend to greater heights through their work or
through manipulation. Some indeed make it, though many others fall from their precarious position to one
even lower.

Nobility
The planar nobility live their lives in the lap of luxury, expending their wealth in grand displays of power and
affluence. No expenses are spared, and nobles are pampered, waited on hand and foot by the hundreds of
servants who fulfill their every desire. This is the aristocracy of the planes, their skill at manipulation and
sheer wealth making almost anything possible for them to accomplish. It is all so miserably hollow, but so
enticing. Who would not want to live in this fashion? Why live in drudgery and filth when you can buy and sell
your lesser? The lifestyle of a noble may seem serene and blissful to those beneath them, but in truth, they
are locked in a constant war of subtlety with their competitors. As money has little value to members of this
class, pure power is what drives them. The nobility are ruthless in their manipulation of the lower classes to
harm and discredit competitors, knowing that if they ever make a mistake their enemies will tear them down
before they even realize what has happened. And that’s just in the Cage. I have seen them at their worst, for
once I was one of them. Most will never realize the horrors they visit on others so easily, or the emptiness in
their own souls.

Truth is, the nobility of the planes can vary just as much as any other class, but all in all most are feared and
hated. While some kings and lords of the Upper Planes might rule openly with justice and goodwill, most are
too removed from their people for either side to understand or respect the other.

Wealth and Privilege

Wealth and privilege go hand-in-hand on the planes; those who have it can do almost anything, while those
who don’t are manipulated by those above them. The lower classes generally defer to the nobility, as on most
prime worlds, though there is much more potential to move between the ranks of society than on the Prime.
The planes are an infinite place where anything can happen, and there is many a tale of a simple peasant
who managed to crawl their way up to the ranks of the aristocracy. Generally there are far more opportunities
available to people, with most of the working class and some of the peasantry deciding to make their own
path and becoming planewalkers of a sort. This often sounds easier than it is, and many will never look up
from the dirt in front of them.

Education
The form of education that a young planar receives is almost entirely based on the plane on which they grow
up and the class to which they belong. On the lawful planes, an education system open to all classes is far
more likely, particularly on good-aligned planes such as Arcadia. The evil-aligned lawful planes like Baator
are much less likely to have an established system for education, the poor being abandoned to a life of
ignorance, while the rich nobles employ the best tutors for their children at great expense.
On the planes of Chaos, a defined education system is almost unheard of. Most learn purely from the
instruction of their parents or guardians, and although educated individuals such as spellcasters dwell on the
chaotic planes no less than on the lawful ones, the chances are that most education will be far more practical
and applicable to everyday life, rather than subtle, cerebral pursuits. Education on good-aligned chaotic
planes is usually limited to the knowledge of the parents, who generally teach a craft that has been in their
family for generations, such as farming in the case of Arborea, or the skills of a warrior on Ysgard. The
chaotic Lower Planes often have a fend-for-yourself attitude, with only the bare essentials on survival being
taught to any but the most powerful of nobles.

The Outlands generally follow no specific pattern, the levels and style of education often being based around
that of the nearest gate-town and its corresponding plane. Although this pattern generally applies, there are
still a few exceptions. The settlements in Thoth’s estate are known for a much higher level of education than
surrounding realms, mainly due to Thoth’s interest in knowledge and therefore education. The fact that the
Great Library is located at the heart of Thoth’s estate also facilitates education in the area greatly.

34
The Inner Planes are usually considered far more remote than the Outer Planes, and so many assume that
the inhabitants are much less knowledgeable. This is most likely inaccurate, as although these planes are
indeed remote and hazardous, the populations are usually congregated into tight, closely-knit clusters. As a
result of this close attitude, education is as much as not a community-based issue.
Although standards of education vary drastically, the type of knowledge that a cutter will have is dramatically
different from their counterparts on the Prime. The clearest case of this is the issue of planar lore. Information
such as planar cosmology is common knowledge, with most children being taught topics as soon as they can
speak, which even a prime archmage may not fully understand. Every planar understands the difference
between a gate, a vortex, or an astral conduit, which does not help the image of primes, who seem to find
even the simplest of planar concepts challenging to comprehend.

Linguistic skills are also common in planar cities. Considering the near infinite number of life forms found
throughout the planes, it is the norm to have a good understanding of several planar tongues, from the
whispering, wind-like qualities of Auran, to the runic symbolism of Dabic Rebus, even if an individual is
physically incapable of actually speaking the language. While on a prime world the mere notion of a
commoner understanding the infernal language of Baator could spark suspicions of a fiend-worshiping cult,
on the planes few would bat an eyelid, the chances even being that it is the commoner’s first language.

Libraries and Other Sources

The planes are known to house some of the most expansive houses of learning, many of which are even
spoken of in legends on distant prime worlds, such as the Great Library of Thebestys or Boccob’s Library of
Lore. While many such structures exist, libraries are not usually seen as a vital institution in most planar
cities, and although at least one will undoubtedly exist there, most knowledge is actually taught by word of
mouth. Practically any piece of information will filter to a planar city in time, so it is often a lot less work to
simply attend a local tavern and listen to what newcomers have to say rather than spend hours poring
through old tomes and manuscripts. Maybe you will learn what you look for, maybe you won’t, but either way
you’re normally guaranteed an eye-opening tale or two, just when you think you’ve seen all that the planes
can throw at you.

Health and Living

As with everything else, health and living standards are entirely based upon social class on the planes. The
rich have access to the most powerful forms of healing, meaning that the chances are that they will only die
from old age, and considering the lifespan of some of the planar races, such lives can span several centuries
or millenia. The poor suffer for their lack of wealth and opportunity, and it is neither a happy nor a long life for
most of them. Those who live in the most impoverished parts of planar cities often have no healthcare
available to them whatsoever. Even the slightest illness can seal the fate of a peasant, and what would be
seen as a simple annoyance to the upper classes could easily be life-threatening with the squalor that some
are forced to live in. There are those of us who do what they can, but we are few in number, and the ranks of
the poor so vast.

Of course, clerics and druids have a part in the issue of health on the planes. In the Upper Planes, clerical
healing is much more commonly available for the less privileged classes, as the priests try to do the best for
the community. As a result the health of the inhabitants of the poorer societies of such planes is overall of a
higher level than it would be elsewhere. By contrast, on the Lower Planes only the powerful have any access
to magical healing, and considering the often lethal conditions of planes such as the Abyss, few who cannot
afford healing do not show the scars of their suffering.

Another issue that must be taken into account when considering

health on the planes is the fact that many planar creatures have
a physiological makeup that would be completely alien to most
prime worlds. Beings such as celestials are considerably more
resilient to the cold than a human, while gehreleths are known
to have natural immunities to poisons. Unlike on the Prime,
such creatures are as accepted in the society of most planar
cities as the ‘common’ races, and in many cases are actually
regarded with higher levels of respect. This means that medical
training is a much more complicated field, but the knowledge
gained from studying such races always pays itself off.

35
Politics
And of course there are the political wranglings of planar society. Political wars are waged between those of
differing beliefs, using every advantage possible, in a silent conflict with unimaginable consequences. As a
result of carefully planned strategies, the very planar layers can shift from one plane to another, dead gods
can be reborn, and demon lords can be replaced by the power of raw belief.

The most obvious conflicts are those of the gods themselves, as good and evil, lawful and chaotic, or simply
those of opposing ideologies plot against one another, in their attempts to gain supporters to bolster their
power. These are often epic conflicts spanning over many mortal lifetimes, as time has little meaning to an
immortal. Mortals may or may not realize it when they are being made part of some grander scheme, but
most can at least point on a couple of significant events in their lifetime.

The next layer of political conflict on the planes is the plans of the near-godlike beings, such as the slaad
lords and archfiends, and their exemplar servants. The fiends are constantly locked in their genocidal Blood
War, devils against demons, and yugoloths working for the highest bidder. The Baatorian Lords of the Nine
and the Demon Princes watch over this eternal conflict, using every advantage to sway the war to their side,
while making sure they personally benefit as much as possible. At the same time the celestials battle all
forces of evil, led by such powerful figures as the rulers of the guardinals known as the Five Companions.

But the political conflicts of mortals often have more of an immediate effect. The factions have been at the
center of planar politics for some, no less since they have been exhiled from Sigil. Many of us remain here,
but no longer hold the power we once did, which is hardly a bad thing. The members of what was once the
Bleak Cabal still administer to the less fortunate, and gladly welcome the aid of others, even if they do not
share our specific beliefs. But the wind seems to be changing. Many have seen signs that a conflict that will
make Sigil’s Faction War look like a child’s squabble could be slowly brewing.

Coin and Commerce

Taras Habbinger

[Editor's note: Our first contributor, Taras Habbinger of the Merkhant sect, hails from the gate-town of Glorium
where he operates a trading house dealing in most everything under the sun; so he claims. He also claimed
repeatedly that ‘regardless of the rumors, he did not under any circumstances work in the employ of Zadara
the Titan. I won’t comment on that, nor would the Titan.]

Trade is the grease that keeps the Great Ring spinning, my friend. You wouldn’t want everything to come to a
dead stop, now would you? The planes may be infinite and bursting with possibility, but one of the most
surprising things to newcomers is how similar they are to home in the end. Some Clueless find this fact
reassuring, while others have never seen anything so depressing To come to the legendary homes of their
gods and to find us same greedy merchants and the same poor berks straining their backs in the mines and
fields is downright heartbreaking to them. These folks are especially dismayed by the rumors of a realm in
Olympus where the sun never sets; the leatherheads there use the extra time sweating in their fields, since
they no longer need to sleep.

Me? I like it all the same. So long as the coin keeps flowing the scenery doesn’t much matter. Trade at least
has common meaning wherever you are and the fact that it and the flow of coin is seemingly ubiquitous
across the planes speaks to me of a deeper meaning to it all.

Why do the peoples of the planes still work and buy things in the lands of plenty? Well, one thing to note is
that although the planes are infinite, that don’t mean that all pieces of the pie are equal. Most berks still have
to carve out their own niche, and there’s often someone else more than happy to bob you for it, or bust your
head in and grab it. Every profession a body’s ever heard of can be found in the planes, though many of them
have adapted to the different conditions of the planes. There are ample opportunities for the smart and the
brave to make something of themselves; luck doesn’t hurt, either.

36
 Ardreth Imshenviir

Trade
[Editor’s Note: Our next contributor is one I was surprised to have spoken to us, not that he, or she, or it,
actually spoke. A mercane, Ardreth Imshenviir of House Imshenviir, formerly operating within the ‘Astromundi
cluster’ and currently working in Tradegate, he spoke to us by telepathy rather than actual words. However,
that aside, his information here and elsewhere was well said.]

Traders, peddlers, and powerful merchants ply the portals of the Great Road, sail the rivers of the Styx and
Oceanus, and even skip between the spheres of the prime material, selling and buying the fruits of the
planes. In the Outlands, running into strangers usually means coming across a caravan. Some trade routes
are jealously guarded, since they usually make use of portals to circumvent large swathes of land and
barriers, both natural and unnatural. However the major ones are used by any who care to, though squabbles
and fighting are not unknown.

Trade is vitally important to some areas. On the Ethereal Plane, most materials need to be brought in from
elsewhere. Sigil’s portals bring much of what it needs; for example, very little food is grown there. Some
things are traded across the planes because they’re desired, rather than needed, and that is where profit
hangs heavily in the air, and on the palm. Sometimes a planar wants a little piece of home. Others have
developed a taste for exotic fare from fields beyond the ones they know.

Burgs like Sigil and Tradegate see goods from all over the Great Ring, and they boast some of the finest
marketplaces anywhere, again though I only know the former my reputation. The joyous sound of haggling
and merchants hawking their wares in the bazaars of those cities fill the air. Sigil’s portals make it a natural
place for trade, while Tradegate has dedicated its existence to the glory of the deal. Plenty of other towns
have set themselves up in favorable locations, either along the Great Road or the planar pathways, or in
remote areas where they can take advantage of the lack of competition. The Madhouse in Pandemonium
isn’t known for great craftsmen or resources; but for those souls who have no other options, the cast-off
goods that accumulate there will suffice, though the prices and availability are always changing.

No single group controls trade in the planes; there’s just too much to be had. Certain groups do better at it
than others, though. The Free League doesn’t control the bazaars in Sigil and Tradegate outright, but they
have a strong presence in both, and are often relied upon to help resolve disputes. The Fated have always
numbered a fair amount of traders in their faction. Many of them have worked to secure certain portals for the
use of the Takers. Other faction members have begun hiring themselves out as guides and bodyguards for
caravans of all sorts. The Merkhant sect is devoted to making money; they’re interested in trade as a means
to an end, the accumulation of vast wealth. They hate spending money to make money, but realize it’s
needed sometimes. As for my own kind, we’re a race of itinerant merchants, forever wandering the planes.
We’re arrangers and speculators rather than manufacturers or the purveyors of bulk goods. Of course since
we’re both good at what we do, and we don’t speak much outside of our own kind a fair bit of speculation
arises about us. Some speculate that perhaps we’re cursed, or in the service of a power of trading. Others
whisper about some dark secret behind us and our reluctance to enter the City of Doors, or other screed
relating to our trade between the spheres of the prime in wildspace. I won’t comment on those rumors here
one-way or the other. But continuing on, the Planar Trade Consortium has been involved in many of the
important deals of the last few years, as they work to become the preeminent merchant coster in the planes
and they have moved heavily into Tradegate in the past few years; some trouble with Sigil’s portals or so I
hear.

Most of these groups have been involved in shady deals at one time or another, thought the Indeps are
regarded as decent enough cutters most of the time, and my own people are nothing if not reliable, rumors
aside.

Arvateth Pash’mat

Coinage
[Editor’s note: an Asura, Arvateth Pash’mat, in the employ of an obscure power of luck and pride brings us
this next short section on wages for the common berk. His exact line or employ he wouldn’t say, but given his
dealings with the Asura Koe in Sigil, I think it rather obvious.]

37
Many transactions across the planes are made with coin, just as they are in the Prime Material Plane.
Especially in the burgs that see a lot of traffic, exchange rates tend to be fair: a gold piece is a gold piece, no
matter its origin. As long as the coin itself isn’t literally tainted, most merchants and innkeepers aren’t that
choosy. But this really only applies to platinum, gold, and silver coins. Many places refuse to take copper
coins (though they tend to be accepted by bronze-working societies like Olympus and Marduk). Other metals
like tin and steel are frowned upon, but you might be able to pass them off to a goblin in Acheron, much to the
general lament of primes from Krynn. Exotic coins like electrum may impress collectors, but rarely merchants.

People in some areas don’t care about coins, so barter or service is required to complete a deal. Azuth’s
realm sells magical items, but the price is usually some form of service or quest, deeds being more valued
than commodities, and usually a lesson is involved in the payment. In the Golden Hills, the gnomish realm of
Bytopia, the petitioners offer healing and places to stay to good folk, but require bashers to work it off, by
woodcutting and mining, or going on an adventure, if they’re that type. The gate-town of Plague-Mort
welcomes visitors, but barter is the common mode of transaction, with indentured servitude the most favored
currency unfortunately. Istvarhan, the nomadic town on the cubes of Acheron, uses similar transactions.
Glitterhell, the realm of Abbathor, dwarven god of greed, is a place where nothing may be bought. The
denizens have no coins, for those are all in Abbathor’s treasure hoards, as are all fine items. His subjects
must barter what little they have.

In the Lower Planes, larvae are used as currency, those evil souls that sprout like weeds from the poisoned
soil of the planes themselves. They both grow from and feed their native planes, and they can serve as
money, food, and raw recruits for the Blood War. On the Plain of Infinite Portals, the first layer of the Abyss,
weapons and rations not fit for most palates can be purchased, and slaves, weapons, magic, and blood are
the preferred method of payment. It all supports the war effort, you see. Coins are good for the merchants
who tramp through the Abyss in their heavily guarded caravans, selling anvils, whetstones, and other war
materials. But sometimes they just take what they want. The baatezu are more interested in having someone
in their debt than closing a quick and easy deal, as those unfortunates who have dealt with them may often
attest. They don’t need to buy things; their masters provide for their needs. But they use gems as currency
with other races, though they prefer larvae, magic, knowledge, and favors. If you want to deal with a night
hag, it’s much the same; they want knowledge, magic, and spirits. They can get their own larvae easily
enough, though. Similar to the Hags the ‘loths have no need or desire for larvae either, unlike the other two
fiend races they seem to have little need of them, and when they do they don’t have to look far to find them.
The yugoloths tend to be more interested in selling than in buying, and most of their lesser castes are rented
wholesale as mercenaries and fodder for the hunger of the Blood War. Only a desperate or foolish man deals
with the fiends, but alas, there are necessary evils in this world that we can only deal with and minimize but
perhaps not eliminate.

Each cutter needs to figure out the price he or she is willing to pay. Some of the darker entities out there
charge a mighty high price. You can always get more coins; losing a portion of your mind to the god of the
illithid in exchange for its secrets, or your soul to a greedy shadow-fiend, are both more permanent deals.

Ardreth Imshenviir

Labor
The common laborer toils on the Outer Planes much like his or her counterpart on the Prime. For whatever
reason, the crops rarely grow themselves. The grain may be better than that found in the mortal realms
(though sometimes it’s worse, depending on your tastes), but it still took some poor berk to sow and reap it.
Same goes for building things, or carving them, or whatever. Stuff doesn’t just appear. Well, sometimes it
does, depending on where you are.

Many laborers are petitioners, doing service to their powers in the hopes of merging with the realm they’ve
toiled on. Petitioners do all that work because they don’t know any better. Occasionally, mortals have to do
physical labor as well. Sometimes they’re forced to, and sometimes they do it just to get by. Those mortals
who resort to making a living off of physical labor usually do so in a city outside of the gods’ realms. The
powers already have a work force, and mortals usually feel more comfortable around other mortals, even if
that means living in squalor.

38
Now, from what I’ve been told by associates, Sigil can’t rely on petitioners, though it does have the dabus to
take care of general maintenance. I’ve never been to Sigil you see, but that’s… beside the point. The gate-
towns that spring up near the portals from the Outlands to various Outer Planes don’t have petitioners or
dabus; some mortal sod has to clean the gutters and replace the cobblestones. There are other burgs
amongst the planes in the same situation.

Many people are born into their positions, inheriting their lot in life from their parents. If pappy was a rat
catcher, don’t expect to be a lawyer when you grow up. In a lot of places, children should expect to learn their
parents’ trade around puberty. This will become their sole education at this point, as they begin to help the
family bring in jink. If their parents can afford it, they may give them over to a master as an apprentice. If they
do well, they can break out of their social class. Repairing shoes is always better than digging ditches.

When does a laborer get a day off? That depends. Some places don’t keep track of time all that well, so a
day off comes irregularly and with little pattern. Other places may keep track of time, but if a laborer is tilling
the fields of Heliopolis, he may not see much free time. But, aren’t most of the gods there good? Sure are,
and for the most part they’re righteous and just, but that doesn’t mean they’re paying attention to how many
hours a berk is working.

Most planars or primes try their best to find some other way to make a living. Leave the hard, dull work to the
petitioners, and find a way to make your own fortune. Of course, most of them discover that the work’s just as
hard and stressful, and sometimes has a better chance of getting them killed. But it is certainly more exciting.

Arvateth Pash’mat

Common Wages
Work is a curious thing, being sometimes a joy and sometimes a harsh necessity, but it is always needed in
one form or another. Even if we toil under another, it still allows us to feed ourselves so some good comes of
even the worse situations. Certainly if you’re working for someone else, you shouldn’t expect to see much
money. A laborer who’s working for more than the love of his or her god can expect to see a silver piece a day
most places. Most other jobs don’t involve set wages. If you’re a merchant or provide a service, you may
have a set price, or you may haggle and barter. All depends on the situation, or personal choice.

In the cities and gate-towns, some folks draw a

wage from the government. Clerks, government
lawyers, and watchmen usually receive a set
amount of jink every day or week. Household
servants often earn a wage, though some just do
it for room and board.

In lawful realms and cities, this is all usually well

regulated, and a body can expect to be paid on
time (and taxed very efficiently, as well). In the
more chaotic areas, getting paid can be more
erratic, and it may not be the same amount each
time, but of course neither is there the same
exact burden of taxes, regulations and, well,
order.

The self-employed can typically set their own

rates, and certainly in the area of sellswords and
mercenaries they can rely on their reputation as
leverage in contract negotiations. Sadly though,
many of these hearty souls are inevitably sucked
down to the lower planes with dreams of easy
coin and glorious battle. Most of them die or
suffer fates far worse under the thumb of the
fiends. But, like work, the War Eternal is a harsh
necessity it seems.

39
 Alpthis and Apteris

Slavery
[Editor’s note: The following was written by one of my scribes in collaboration with two all too smiling fiends,
arcanaloths to be specific. Alpthis and Apteris, aides to ‘Her sublime excellency Cholerix’ on the layer of
Othrys in Carceri, they claim to be well versed in the darker sides of planar trade, as well as having the
distinction of being siblings, born of the uncommon self fertilization of an Ultroloth. The two are almost
identical except in slight variations of their coat patterns, and those are mirror opposites on the pair.]

Alpthis: Trust us when we say that we are quite well versed with this topic.
Apteris: Trust us indeed.
Alpthis: It seems almost every day that we find ourselves brokering deals between our masters in Carceri
and one or another slave dealer from most anywhere from Limbo down through the lower planes all the way
to Mechanus.
Apteris: Of course it’s much easier on the paperwork when you don’t pay for the slaves in the first place.
Alpthis: And much more satisfying to the senses, yes.
Apteris: Indeed. But on with the show, we mustn’t keep the mimir waiting…

Slavery is all too common in certain parts of the Great Ring, especially on our end. In the Upper Planes,
outright slavery is considered an abomination. The servants and laborers there do it for jink or love; no one’s
forcing them to do anything, the little drones. In some parts of the neutral planes and in the Lower Planes,
most labor is done much more efficiently by force. Those who resist can expect a beating, if not horrendous
torture and death. Thralls, petitioner and mortal alike, work themselves for that brief moment of rest and crust
of bread. Most have no hope of ever being free.

Apteris: Hope? Hope is an illusion.

Alpthis: Divest yourself of it. We have.

Some races have a special relationship to the institution of slavery. One of the most famous is the gith. This
ancient race was enslaved millennia ago by the illithid, and finally staged a successful revolt against their
cruel masters long ago. Since then, the race has split in twain, developing as the githzerai and the githyanki.
The githzerai find slavery an abomination, and would never subject another to it. Any servants they keep are
treated fairly. The githyanki have no such moral qualms about slavery. Slaves perform much of the lesser
work in githyanki society, while the githyanki hone their magical and martial skills. They force the captured
members of other races into servitude much as their Illithid masters of old did to them. They see doing so as
their right and their way to ensure that they themselves will never again be enslaved.

Apteris: And of course when most of them die, well…

Alpthis: … the joke’s on them…
Apteris: The look on the faces of their petitioners is most priceless you must realize.
Alpthis: Most priceless brother, most priceless.

Other slave keeping races include the orcs and goblins that infest the cubes of Acheron, the khaasta who
roam the outlands and the chaotic planes, the spidery tso who travel the lawful planes (except for Arcadia
and Mount Celestia), and their prime material cousins the neogi who occasionally prowl the outlands and Sigil
when they depart the material plane. The Khaasta, tso and the neogi are raiders, smugglers, and slave
traders. The orcs and goblins don’t mind selling the occasional slave, though they keep most for themselves.

In the Lower Planes, slavery is everywhere. Considering how the lesser tanar’ri and baatezu are treated by
the greater, the lot of a mortal in those stygian realms is beyond miserable. Deep in the Abyss, visitors to
Naratyr, the City of the Dead in Thanatos, can purchase the services of a docile undead slave for as little as a
copper a day.

Alpthis: Work ceases to be work when you’re enjoying yourself.

Apteris: It doesn’t matter if it’s a petitioner or a mortal or a fiend…
Alpthis: Except that the former tend to scream more since they don’t black out from the pain
Apteris: Did we mention how we do love our work?

40
Outside of these societies, those who desire to keep slaves usually find it difficult. In most cities, while
indentured servitude is acceptable, true slavery is not. Social censure is the least result; in some instances
someone who keeps slaves may find themselves on trial (this is likely only in the gate-towns of the Upper
Planes). Of course, there’s plenty of countryside in the Outlands where no one will ever notice how a slave is
treated.

Alpthis: But the place is also crawling with Indeps on the upper side of the ring of gate towns, and they don’t
care for it at all.
Apteris: But in any event, that largely covers the topic.
Alpthis: Indeed, it has been a pleasure.
Apteris: … and where do you think you’re going?
Alpthis: What better way to instruct that to illustrate it as it happens, we’ll have the mimir delivered to your
fellows…

Corin the Imbiber

Planar Services
[Editor's Note: Our last section of this document is provided to us by Corin the Imbiber, a member of the
Sensates out of Arborea’s Gilded Hall. Having seen quite a stretch of the planes in his youth, he gives us an
account of the planes and what can be purchased across their breadth since, as he claims, he’s seen it all,
and heard, and touched, and tasted.

So what do the planes have to offer? Quite a bit. While Sigil and Tradegate see a lot of the best things in their
bazaars, a cutter can often acquire even more wonderful things by going to out of the way spots in the Great
Ring. Why wait for a merchant to bring it to you in the marketplace for a higher price when you can go out
and experience everything there and back and find it at the source I say.

The gate-towns can be great places to make a deal, as well. Automata’s perfect grid of streets is bewildering,
because the different housing, warehouse, administrative, and market blocks are scattered about with no
apparent pattern. But those that take the time find markets where the prices are carefully regulated and
goods from Mechanus can be bought (Mechanus itself is notoriously low on goods and services (though
Mycelia, realm of the myconids, sells a variety of fungal derivatives), so bloods looking for a deal settle with
Automata). Life is wilder in Automata’s under city. Hokee Thridun, an amoral tiefling merchant, sells and buys
exotic goods with a clientele of the rich and powerful. Glorium’s the gate-town to go to if in the market for a
new ship to sail down the Oceanus. The Freki twins make some of the finest long ships out there, and they
charge accordingly. Plague-Mort has a great shop, The Poisoner’s Phial, where the tiefling Laran Susspurus
sells acids and toxins, and for twice the price of a poison, its antidote may also be purchased. In Xaos, smiths
craft magical items with karach, the transmuting metal that leaks into the burg from the portal to Limbo.

There are numberless locales dotting the planes that offer up unique fare. Tvashtri’s Laboratory in the
Outlands is a great place to go for strange mechanical devices of all sorts, built by the human and gnome
petitioners of the god of artifice and science. Grandfather’s Oak
in Arborea is the home of the grey elves. Because of the
proscriptions on fire usage, it’s not the place to go for services
that require it. But it does boast exceptional woodcarvings,
including the masterworks in black walnut by the ancient
Morellian. He only creates one piece a year now, auctioned off at
midsummer. In Breidablik (“Broad Splendor”), the hall of Baldur
in Ysgard, the dwarves sell fine clothes, rich jewelry, and gem-
encrusted goblets. Nearby Alfheim is known for its wines, such
as Kervakkis red, glacial blue, and Firestone brandy. The elves
rarely sell them to outsiders, however, and supposedly only
another elf has the refined senses to truly appreciate them
anyway, and to that I say they never met the senses of one of my
faction. Glacial blue is said to give visions to those who drain an
entire cup; there’s rotgut in Sigil that’ll do the same for cheaper.

41
Svartalfheim also sells wine, made from mushrooms. They also carve gemstones and weave the best cloth in
Ysgard, soft and warm. Green Fields, the realm of the halflings pantheon, exports fine tea and tobacco
leaves. Rempha, the City of the Sands of Time on Mount Celestia, sells a variety of timekeeping devices:
sundials, marked candles, and water and mechanical clocks. They also sell other goods, and all are
renowned for aging well, making wonderful heirlooms. Resounding Thunder, the realm of Lei Kung, sells all
sorts of noisemakers: firecrackers, gongs and drums. Those who want the best chain possible can brave
Jangling Hiter, city of the kytons. The Ethereal Plane is not known for its shopping potential, but the Freehold
City of the Etherfarers’ Society hosts an Agora where imports can be bought at high price. They also sell
some unique items: strands of stable protomatter from phase spiders, exotic pets and fruits from the
demiplanes, and items from collapsed dreamscapes.

Arborea is known as the “breadbasket” of the Outer Planes, and the best grains and vegetables come from
there and find their way onto the plates of those who can afford them. Olive oil from Thrassos and elven
honey mead and venison are prized. Other goods come from Arborea: elven musical instruments and
magical items, and furniture and fine cloth and dyes from Thrassos. The island town of Elshava, situated in a
trade position between the sea and land elves, is a great place to stop if you’re traveling to the Elemental
Plane of Water. The Sealskin Slicker, a tannery shop run by Amarillis Silverthorn, can waterproof most
anything. If not, she can provide a watertight container for it.

Also, a number of other services are available in the vastness of the planes. Many backwaters are full of
bodies looking to hire themselves out as mercenaries and the like. And it’s nice to find a place to sleep and
get a meal and a drink, no matter how much you like the open road. Guides are always a good idea on the
first visit to a hostile plane; don’t try navigating Limbo by yourself, addle-cove. Many gate-towns and burgs
have guides that can be hired to help with travel and mixing with the locals. Stop in Ribcage for a guide with a
warrant of safe passage if you find yourself visiting Baator. Guides to the Abyss, however, should never gain
your full trust. The price for hiring a guide depends on factors such as possible danger and length of service.
A tout hired in Sigil to show a newcomer around will cost around 2 silver pieces per hour. A guide taking you
into the Transitive Planes or the Lower Planes may cost around 5 gold pieces a day or part thereof if the hirer
can negotiate a good deal. Don’t expect a guide to do much more than help with general directions. They’re
likely to scarper at the first sign of fighting.

The gate-town of Bedlam doesn’t offer much in the way of shops, but the mishmash of barmies attracts a
small number of artists. They can be found in Weylund’s Inn, where the dwarven proprietor gives the
downtrodden and sensitive a clean room for one silver piece a night. Also in Bedlam can be found the
Sanatorium, a combination asylum, spa, and boarding house. If you want to hire an expert torturer, travel to
Ondtland in Gehenna. Loviatar’s servants know their way with a whip, it must be said.

Some places are more welcoming to merchants than others. Curst is known for its bitter, vengeful
mercenaries, shops specializing in traps and deadly devices, and heartwine (made from razorvine by the
Cilenei brothers, two prime elven wizards who have seen too much of my jink over the years I will admit).
Visitors to Curst have a tough time leaving again; the gate guards
interrogate all who try to leave about their reasons for doing so to
determine who gets to go. The githzerai aren’t warm to strangers;
visitors to their homes in Limbo must remain in the foreign districts, and
can only travel elsewhere with a guide. Their cousins, the githyanki, are
even unfriendlier, but some astral fortresses have foreign districts for
those times when they’d rather parlay than take by force. As long as
you’re not a prime, dwarf or of an opposed alignment, you can visit
Hammergrim to purchase the duergars’ magic. The demon lord Graz’zt
is more welcoming of merchants than most of his kind, even mercilessly
punishing those who harm traders. But then the goristro at the gate
makes traders hand over the better part of their profits on exiting.
One of the most important commodities on the planes is information.
The brokers of secrets do a brisk business. Want to know where the
next portal out of Carceri is going to appear? Want to know a demon’s
true name? Want to get the dark on your enemies and make them pay?
Want to find out the short cut to the seventh heaven of Mount Celestia?
Of course, finding out who the most reputable information brokers are is
a task in and of itself; you don’t want to get the wrong piece of
information on how to survive in the City of Brass.

42
Another important aspect of planar society is the use of portals. The portals that make Sigil the “hub” of the
multiverse are accessible by what’s known as portal keys. Some portals are controlled by individuals or
groups, and they decide who has access and who doesn’t. Even “public” portals still bar those who don’t bear
the proper portal key. Still others sell the actual portal keys such as the Guild of Doorsnoops, though often
this doesn’t mean selling the physical key itself, but selling the knowledge of what the key is. A portal that
requires a sprig of razorvine is easily used; razorvine’s everywhere. But a sod who doesn’t know that a sprig
is the key isn’t going anywhere. The cost of a portal key can vary wildly. How expensive is the physical key
itself? How rare are portals to the location in question? How much does the operator of the portal want to
restrict usage? How much is it worth to you, berk? For portals that see common use, a portal key (whether an
object, action, or mental concept) will generally cost from 5 to 100 gold pieces.
Anything can be found in the planes, for the right price. Brave cutters can find what they’re looking for, either
for themselves or to trade for something else. Of course, someone else is bound to be looking for it, too, but
the experience is worth it by my measure regardless.

Jeremy deLeas

Spells and Magical Items

[Editor's Note: Mr. deLease is one of the self-made businessmen who rose after the factions left Sigil.
Apparently recovering from the Tempest of Doors with remarkable speed, this gentleman and two other
companions bought a failing merchant house out from under the previous owner's noses and have since
made quite a profitable little business since under the name 'Ventures Gained'.]

And you want to interview me instead of A'kin? Well yes, admittedly I'm a great deal more human if not any
friendlier so I can see why you're here but… ok. If I can help a few of the clueless that I see stumbling across
my doorstep in advance, I certainly will. Makes it easier in the long run to just hand them a book instead of
sitting them down over tea to explain it all. Magic, items and spells. You'd think in the planes – the great
mystical seat of godlike powers, that magic would be just… a finger snap away. Unfortunately it's just not the
case really. I mean think about it, the powers, fiends, celestials – they're like that big rich kid you saw in your
neighborhood while growing up, giving all the other kids a bad name with their antics.
While magic is everywhere on the planes, the ordinary sod doesn’t have any more access to it than a prime
does. Which means, planars don’t just walk around with vorpal swords or staves of wonder. The one's that
do, well – they do because they can defend it. And magic shop owners… well. Let's just say I invest
considerably in my security here. Magic is just as expensive, if not more so, than on various prime worlds.
Spellslingers know their services are in high demand, and some of the particular situations you find yourself
in out here require some very specific training.

Which is not to say you can't find what you need! Oh no, if a cutter has the jink, they can usually find what
they’re looking for in one of the bazaars, or in a shop like this one.

Most magical (and the more bizarre mechanical) devices are acquired through trade and adventuring. Few
spellslingers choose to devote their skills to crafting new magical items unless that's their business. Those
that do it part time are likely to make a fine amount of jink, but such work often gets in the way of their own
progression and makes them targets for competition from other merchants or cony-catchers. The largest
cities on the planes will have one or two such skilled mages, but the majority of burgs, I'd exclude Bytopia
from that, rely completely on merchants for their supplies. A lot of items come in from artificers scattered
about, craftsmen in Bytopia who just get off on that sort of thing, or primes who know it's an easy way to
make money and no one's going to jinx them on their deal.

Spells, on the other hand, are a whole different story. Magic is often necessary for accessing the more
hazardous parts of the multiverse, and portal-workers are in high demand. Fortunately, competition keeps the
price of such services in check, but spell work still isn’t cheap. Spellslingers that make a habit of their
services are often prepared to identify magical items, check portals for their necessary keys, and shield
customers from planar dangers. Getting other spells cast, with the exception of healing, usually requires more
searching and a bit more jink. Myself, I'd recommend picking up a few wands of utility spells like that if you
can afford them and you have an idea how to use such things. It makes it a damn sight easier to just point a
wand than to try to recruit a wizzardling out to a portal to check it out. Keeps 'em from asking for a cut of
profits too if it's a good portal.

43
Healing spells can be trickier, you can get those from a faction or your religion. While those on the verge of
death will likely be healed at no charge, assuming those in question aren’t of opposing sides, anything else
will often require a healthy donation to the church or caster. I mean folks gotta eat, that's just a part of life.
Most priests would rather save their spells for paying folk, better for the cause and all. A blood might barter a
discount if they follow the same order or can prove that being at their peak is beneficial to the priest or
organization providing the service, but it’s a rare day you’ll get a free ride. When you do, be nice if you will?

Magical Training
Planars wishing to study the magical arts have several options. The temples of the various powers are the
most likely place to find teaching in the divine arts, though of course one is expected to join the order.
Becoming a member of a faction that prizes arcane knowledge is the most common way to find instruction in
spellslinging, and such service is normally either part of the faction’s basic training or at a decent price. The
realms of certain powers of knowledge and magic are another good place to turn for magical teachings as
well, with the realms of Isis and Azuth being two of the more likely places to find such teaching. Thoth isn't too
bad while you're at it either, come to think of it. Many of the larger burgs on the Great Wheel have some sort
of college of magic, some of which accept anyone willing to devote the necessary time and work, others
having very strict (and political) guidelines for who they will accept. Such schools are often extremely
strenuous, and may be more concerned with competing for money and fame than their students’ careers.
Always shop around.

Most young mages choose to search out masters who might be willing to take on an apprentice. Of course,
such relations range in their nature, and not every basher is willing to do someone’s drudgery for the chance
to learn a few spells. Apprenticeship agreements are usual arranged through faction mediators, local
authorities, or other institutions. Enlistment terms for apprentices are typically for one or two months per level
of a spell taught, but most cutters prefer exchanges of favors and quests to earn a master’s tutoring and
copies of spells. Masters working on magical research are the most likely to enter such deals, either in hopes
of obtaining assistance in their work on in order to obtain rare components. For the most part you find
teaching going on one on one. I've met a very very small handful of mages who feel up to teaching a whole
handful or more. And they're as often teaching non magical things like reading and mathematics as teaching
spells.

Those who wish to learn the mental discipline of psionics might have to look harder, as it’s said to be a more
difficult path to follow and thus teachers are a true rarity. I have only the smallest selection of items from the
Art, it's not something that ever caught my attention really. Factions again are a body’s best chance here,
though potent candidates are sometimes admitted to the githzerai monasteries of Limbo. Their githyanki
cousins would make great teachers as well if they didn’t despise everyone else. Most set out to master their
abilities on their own through adventuring or meditation, which often seems to work better for psionics than it
does for other types of magic. If you're really interested in that you may also want to drop by the New Tyr
district in Sigil – if you can get them to open up, and you aren't an elf. In fact. If you're an elf – just… avoid the
whole place, I got mistaken there once and ruined a whole set of clothes by the time the fight was over. Bug
juice does not come out.

44
 Merchandise of the Planes

If you have the jink and the desire, someone out there is willing to help you. With a little bit of searching you
can find just about anything for sale. Merchants set up shop in the Grand Bazaars of Sigil and Tradegate, or
travel from place to place, selling their wares. While prices may fluctuate wildly in some areas, they tend to
follow the same patterns in the markets of the cities; with the availability of portals, scarcity or abundance for
one area is the same for almost everywhere else. The pricing information given in the following sections can
be considered the standard for Sigil, the gate-towns of the Outlands, and many of the population centers of
the Outer Planes. The Transitive and Inner Planes, and the less accessible areas of the Outer Planes, usually
have higher prices, unless the material in question is in abundance there.

Equipment
Weapons, armor, supplies, and services of various sorts can be purchased in many areas of the planes.
While a lantern from Baator and one from Arcadia may have superficial differences, they are basically the
same, and can be purchased for around the same price. The origins of masterwork items are usually more
obvious; a sword forged in the Dwarven Mountain is easily recognizable to those familiar with such things.
Almost all merchandise that can be found for sale in the planes is of planar manufacture, rather than imported
from the Prime; planars don’t go there unless they absolutely have to. On the other hand, those who know
where to look and who to ask can find even rare antiquities from the Prime that turn up on the market.

Armor Description

Bariaur Armor: Most armor, even magical ones, won’t fit bariaur and thus many instead use barding instead.
Of course the planes host a variety of exotic races, and bariaur are hardly a rare sight on the planes, so many
smiths carry armor specially crafted to fit their quadruped form. Such armor provides the same amount of
protection as humanoid armor, but costs and weights s good deal more. Most bariaur prefer to wear light
armor since it doesn’t limit their natural speed. Medium and heavy armor reduce their speed to 30 ft.

Modron Armor: Modrons are unable to wear normal armor due to their non-humanoid form. They may,
however, have special plating made for them, consisting of flat sheets of metal with holes for the modron’s
face and arms either strapped on by leather or bolted into the metallic parts of the modron’s body. Because
modron outcasts are all the same size the fitting process is simple, though such bashers are too rare for
anyone to have premade armor in stock. Adding or removing the armor requires about two hours and
someone with at least basic knowledge of modron anatomy. Modrons do not suffer from fatigue when
sleeping in their armor.

45
Robes, Amun-thysian: These gem-encrusted robes are highly prized by Sensates. They are sewn in the
desert realm of Amun-thys on the third layer of Arborea, stitched with fine gold and dyed a royal purple. While
the gems and stones certainly weigh the robes down, the sleeves have only the smallest, lightest gems sewn
in, allowing arcane spellcasting without much trouble.

Sealskin: A waterproof armor consisting of tanned and stitched sealskins. Perfect for cutters who are visiting
watery locales and don’t want to worry about being weighed down or getting metal armor rusty.

Weapon Description

Bariaur Horned Helm: Bariaurs that don horned helms are able to make charge attacks capable of inflicting
grievous wounds. The helms can also be enchanted as magical weapons, and enable bariaur that do not
have a horn for some reason to make charge attacks.

Kooth: The kooth is the khaasta’s ritual weapon, two crescent blades in a 45° angle to each other on a 10-
foot pole. The length of the kooth gives it a reach of 10 feet, and those proficient with the weapon are able to
swing the blades and slide their hands along the shaft in order to seamlessly strike adjacent foes. The kooth
is a double weapon. You can fight with it as if fighting with two weapons , but if you do, you incur all the
normal attack penalties associated with fighting with two weapons, just as if you were using a one handed
weapon and a light weapon. A creature wielding a kooth in one hand cannot use it as a double weapon. Due
to the size of the pole and the weight of the blades, anyone with a Strength score 15 or lower is unable to
wield the kooth without dropping it or accidentally hitting themselves.

Planar Armor Material

Industrious cutters of all races create and build with most any material that comes to hand. From the forges of
dwarven petitioners to the arsenals of the Blood War, from the armories of the celestials to the laboratories of
the githzerai, the spirit of invention and the thirst for battle come together in a hundred ways.

Acheronian Clearsteel: This transparent metal is found on certain cubes on Acheron, and is forged into
weapons of war, just as everything else there is. Clearsteel is no harder than ordinary steel, but weapons
forged from it are virtually transparent and Spot checks to notice them have a base DC 20, making them quite
handy as concealed weaponry. Those who can get their hands on large quantities even use clearsteel
instead of glass for windows, doors, tank screens…and other such applications. The market price modifier for
clearsteel weapons is +1,000 gp.

Astral Driftmetal: A rare mineral mined from the floating corpses of the powers found on the Astral Plane,
astral driftmetal is similar to iron. It is not very malleable, however, and only shields, breastplates, and heavy
armors may be forged from it. Such equipment has the unique property of being effective against incorporeal
attacks 25% of the time, as if it had the ghost touch property. Astral driftmetal armor weighs 5 pounds more
than ordinary armor but is otherwise the same. Many planars find the thought of digging into the bodies of
deities to be a heinous act and will confront anyone discovered to be wielding or selling the material. The
Athar, on the other hand, actively encourage their members to make use of the metal as a sign of their
disdain for the powers and proof of their failings. The market price modifier for armor made of driftmetal is
+1,000 gp. Astral driftmetal has a hardness of 12 and 30 hit points per inch of thickness.

46
Baatorian Green Steel: This metal comes from the
wastelands of Avernus, the first layer of Baator, and has
seen much use during the eons of fighting in the Lower
Planes. Green steel is lighter than normal steel, and is
readily worked into razor sharp edges. The yugoloths
have taken the opportunity to spread the weapons
they’ve acquired throughout the planes, though they are
still rare outside the baatezu armies. Piercing or slashing
weapons crafted with the green-flecked ore have an
increased damage range, as if they were one level lower
on Table 7- 4: Tiny and Large Weapon Damage on pg.
114 of the Player’s Handbook. Banded mail, chain mail,
plate mail, and scale mail are the only types of armor that
can be made of green steel, and such armor has an
increased armor bonus of +1. The market price modifier
for such armor is +3,000 gp; weapons made of green
steel have a price modifier of +2,000 gp. Baatorian green
steel has a hardness of 12 and 30 hit points per inch of
thickness.

Bronze: This metal hardly unique to the planes, as most

prime worlds discover the secret of bronze working at
some point, and eventually find it is decidedly inferior to
iron and steel. It still sees use, however, in the realms of
certain pantheons such as the Greek, Egyptian,
Babylonian, and Sumerian. These cultures certainly know
that better technologies exist, but choose to remain a bit backwards, perhaps because artisans are able to
sculpt the bronze into pleasing designs embossed on the armor. Bronze is softer than steel, and weapons
made with the metal have a -1 penalty to attack and damage (with a minimum damage of 1). Bronze has a
hardness of 9 and 20 hit points per inch of thickness. Weapons with wooden hafts, such as axes and spears
have the hardness and hit point values listed in the Player’s Handbook.

Entropium: Crafted in the laboratories of the githzerai, entropium is created in a process that alloys iron with
the chaos-stuff of Limbo. It is heavier than ordinary iron, but can be used to create armor that shifts with the
movements of its wearer, allowing for greater flexibility. Light entropium armor is considered medium, weighs
2 pounds more than normal, medium armor is considered heavy, weighs 5 pounds more than normal, and
heavy armor weighs 10 pounds more than normal. Shields made of entropium weigh 2 more pounds than
usual. The armor check penalty increases by 2 for Strength-related skill checks (Climb, Jump, Swim, etc.),
while it decreases by 2 for Dexterity-related skill checks (Balance, Hide, Tumble, etc.). Arcane spell failure for
entropium armor is decreased by 10%, to a minimum of 5%, and the maximum Dexterity bonus increases by
+2. Only armor and shields crafted of metal may be created with entropium. Entropium has a hardness of 15
and 40 hit points per inch of thickness.

Item Market Price Modifier

Light Armor +750 gp
Medium Armor +2,000 gp
Heavy Armor +8,000 gp
Shield +750 gp

Gehennan Morghuth-Iron: The yugoloths mine this metal from the volcanic reaches of Gehenna. It is
difficult to forge, and creates shoddy, pocked, and pitted weapons that have a – 1 penalty to attack and
damage. However, morguth-iron is highly toxic, and when made into slashing or piercing weapons the metal
poisons its victims with every strike. The target must make a Fortitude save at DC 12. The initial damage is 1
point of temporary Dexterity; the secondary damage is 1d4 points of temporary Dexterity. Rumors abound of
particularly potent samplings of morghuth-iron, though such weapons are confined to the ranks of higher
yugoloth. Such weapons are very rare beyond Gehenna, though some are being sold to the baatezu and the
tanar’ri. The market price modifier for a weapon made of morguth-iron is +4,000 gp. Gehennan morguth-iron
has a hardness of 9 and 20 hit points per inch of thickness.

47
Karach: This is a shifting metal used by smiths in Limbo and its gate-town of Xaos to create magical and
psionic items of various sorts. It is notoriously unstable and difficult to work with. The githzerai are the
undisputed masters of the strange chaos-stuff, using it to create objects of mysterious power wieldable by the
most dedicated warriors of that race. Lesser blacksmiths, those that get their hands on it anyway, are only
able to create weapons and armor that make use of some of the transmuting properties of the metal. Karach
is considered a masterwork material for crafting purposes, and the blacksmith must have ranks in Craft
(karach weaponsmith), Craft (karach armorsmith), and so forth.

Weapons forged with karach are deadlier in the hands of wielders with strong wills. If the user of a karach
weapon has psionic abilities or a Wisdom score of 16 or more, the weapon has a natural enhancement bonus
to attack and damage as well as the ability to change shape. As a free action once a round the wielder may
change the type of damage dealt by the weapon to piercing, slashing, or bludgeoning. In the hands of anyone
else, the weapon functions normally and retains its current form. Karach armor functions similarly, providing a
natural enhancement bonus to AC and shifting to better deflect certain types of attacks. As a free action once
a round the wielder can choose piercing, slashing, or bludgeoning damage and gain damage reduction
against that attack. These bonuses do not stack with any other enhancement bonuses. Thus, a karach (+2)
sword enchanted with a +3 enhancement bonus effectively has a +3 enhancement bonus. In an area where
magic does not function, it still retains its natural +2 enhancement bonus.

Weapons and armor fashioned from karach are treated as masterwork items with regard to creation times,
but the masterwork quality does not affect the enhancement bonus of weapons or the armor check penalty of
armor. Karach has a hardness of 15 and 30 hit points per inch of thickness.

Solanian Truesteel: Manufactured by dwarves under the

watchful eyes of Moradin on the fourth layer of Mount
Celestia, this iron shines with a pure silver gleam and does
not need an alloy. Weapons forged of truesteel are
commonly awarded to those who have proven themselves
brave and just, and have a natural enhancement bonus of
+1 on the confirmation of a critical hit. The market price
modifier for a weapon made of truesteel is +1,000 gp.
Solanian truesteel has a hardness of 11 and 25 hit points per
inch of thickness.

Ysgardian Heartwire: This metal is mined by the dwarves

of Nidavellir in Ysgard. It is a fine, flexible metal, unsuited for
creating armor itself, but small sections of heartwire mail can
be added to chain shirts, chain mail, and heavy armor to
reinforce vital areas. This gives the armor a +2 bonus to AC
solely for the purposes of the roll to confirm a critical hit. The
market price modifier is +1,500 gp for a suit incorporating
heartwire.

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Adventuring Gear

Backpack, Waterproof: A backpack made from specially treated sealskin. While closed, water and other
non-caustic liquids will not damage its contents. It is crafted by Amarillis Silverthorn of the island of Elshava in
Arborea, though merchants often export them across the planes. Such backpacks made for small creatures
weigh ½ a pound.

Bottle, Bytopian: By the unique properties of the plane where these bottles are created, Bytopian bottles are
capable of storing two liquids at once without them ever mixing. The gnomes create bottles in a variety of
shapes and sizes capable of storing 1 pint of each liquid.

Chain, Hiter: A finely wrought chain from the city of Jangling Hiter in Baator. It may be delicate and gleaming,
massive and cold, or fashioned any number of other ways, but regardless, it has a hardness of 12, 10 hit
points, and can be burst with a DC 30 Strength check.

Chest, Waterproof: Distributed by the Sealskin Slicker of Arborea, this chest stores the same amount of
goods as an ordinary chest (2 cubic feet), but is specially constructed and lined with tanned sealskin,
preventing non-caustic moisture from entering it while sealed.

Harness, Bariaur: A specially designed frame backpack for bariaur. It can carry up to 90 pounds worth of
weight and has a volume of 3.5 feet x 3 feet x 1 foot.

Harness, Bariaur (Waterproof): A bariaur harness that has been created from sealskin.

Myconid Spores: The myconid mushroom folk of Mechanus sell their pacification spores to outsiders. They
come in tubes that can be blown upon a target as a touch attack with a range of 10 feet. The victim must
make a Fortitude against DC 14 or be pacified for one minute. Pacification is similar to being dazed, but the
target can make partial actions that do not involve attacking. This is a mind-affecting compulsion effect.

Rope, Celestian: Woven from translucent silk produced by metallic spiders of Mount Celestia. This nigh-
invisible rope has a hardness of 10 and 5 hit points, and can be burst with a DC 26 Strength check. It
provides a +4 circumstance bonus to Use Rope checks.

Saddle, Bariaur: This undignified device is based on the bariaur harness. Though bariaurs do not like to
mounted, some carry them in case they have to transport a two-legged creature quickly, such as when
carrying a wounded companion from danger. It functions as a packsaddle, allowing the bariaur to carry
possessions as well as companions.

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Storage Container, Modron: A device commonly used by modron outcasts to carry things consisting of a
metal and leather box affixed or strapped to the modron’s back. It can carry 100 pounds of weight and has a
volume of 1.5 feet x 3 feet x 1 foot.

Storage Container, Modron (Waterproof): This is a waterproof version of a modron’s container, using
sealskin instead of ordinary leather.

Voidlens: This handheld lens measures three inches by three inches. Their only use is in revealing the
product of voidmarks.

Voidmarks: Chalk-like sticks that can be used to make invisible markings. Such writing can only be seen by
voidlenses or by any magical effects that reveal invisibility. Many vendors claim they come from the Plane of
Vacuum, but in actuality they originate from Tir na Og in the Outlands, where they are known as marker bits.

Class Tools and Skill Kits

Lute, Baatorian: These lutes create sounds rarely heard by mortals, and are highly prized by collectors of
both instruments and devilish knickknacks. Playing one gives a +3 circumstance bonus to Perform checks on
natives of Baator, and a –3 circumstance penalty if the listener is a native of the Abyss. Their rarity increases
the market value.

Mechanical Clock: For those who need to keep precise time or enjoy the novelty of doing so, there is no
better device for timekeeping than a mechanical clock from Rempha on Mount Celestia. Once set and
wound, it will keep perfect time for longer than the lifetime of many creatures. It signals the hour with a
delicate chiming.

Musical Instrument, Arvandorian: These finely crafted musical instruments (mandolins, flutes, hand
chimes, and so forth) are masterwork items, giving a +2 circumstance bonus to Perform checks. The
instruments are especially appealing to elven ears; the circumstance bonus to Perform checks is increased to
+3 when played for elven listeners. Instruments created for small creatures weigh half the normal weight.

Clothing

Belt, Modron: This is an ordinary belt, but fitted for the modron outcasts’ large cube frame.

Fishskin Suit: Stitched together from the skins of underwater creatures and coming with webbed gloves and
fins for the feet. This increases the wearer’s swimming
speed to one-half their normal walking speed as a move
action or three-quarters their walking speed as a full-round
action. The suit also gives the swimmer a +2 circumstance
bonus to Swim checks.

Living Cloak: This thick fur cloak is actually a living

creature of some sort, supposedly from a prime world of
little repute. The cloak clings tightly to the wearer when
worn, but remains comfortable as it creates a symbiotic
relationship between the body heats of the cloak and its
wearer. Not only does it provide the benefits of cold weather
outfits, it provides a +2 circumstance bonus to saves
against cold effects.

Sealskin Outfit: If you’re traveling underwater, and don’t

want to risk destroying your clothes and other possession,
sealskin outfits will keep you modest. Particularly baggy
outfits can be purchased to wear over another outfit or light
armor, protecting them from moisture. The suits will not
cover robes, cloaks, backpacks, and so on. Outfits for small
creatures weigh 1 ¼ pounds.

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Food and Drink

Fortitude save DCs have been provided for those using the optional intoxication rules from the Arms and
Equipment Guide. Drinking an entire alcoholic beverage (a mug of ale, a glass of wine, a jigger of hard
spirits) requires a Fortitude save. The second save within the same hour is at a –1 penalty, the third –2, the
fourth –4, and so forth. Failing the save costs 1d2 points of temporary damage to Dexterity and Wisdom. If
reduced to 0 Wisdom, the drunk slips into unconsciousness. Reduced to 0 Dexterity, the bubber remains
conscious, but is lying on the floor incoherently. If brought to both 0 Dexterity and 0 Wisdom, the sod may
suffer from alcohol poisoning. In such a case the bubber makes another Fortitude save, with a DC
determined by the most potent drink he’s had. If failed, they take 1 point of temporary Constitution damage
every 10 minutes. The only way to stop it before the individual dies is to purge his stomach. The bubber
recovers 1 point of Dexterity and Wisdom damage each hour after the last drink. Neutralize poison will negate
the damage alcohol causes, but the hangover lingers.

Bytopian Cheese: There are three varieties of Bytopian cheese: blue, red, and white, all made from goat’s
milk on the plane of Bytopia, and each has a delicious, unique flavor. The blue kind glows softly in the dark,
and the flavor becomes spicier and tangier, encouraging merchants to double the price when selling it at
night.

Fire Fruit: Grown on the Plane of Fire, a fire fruit burns with a soft flame while fresh and most vendors tend
to serve them with tongs. If the flame is doused right before eating, the taste is unrivaled by other fruits. Even
then, if eaten by someone without fire resistance 5 or more, the fruit is like poison. The eater must make a
Fortitude save against DC 20 or take 1d10 points of Constitution damage. The eater must save again at DC
20 in another minute or lose another 1d10 points.

Giant’s Wine: Made in Arborea with enormous grapes crushed by the feet of giants. Quite potent when drunk
by smaller folks. (Fortitude save DC 15.)

Glacial Blue Wine: A bluish-white wine made by the elves of Alfheim. (Fortitude save DC 12 for elves;
Fortitude save DC 16 for non-elves.)

Green Fields Tea: The halflings of Green Fields grow these famous tealeaves.

Green Fields Tobacco: This flavorful tobacco is a favorite of halflings and connoisseurs.

Heartwine: This is the slightly heady and sour wine brewed in Curst from razorvine. It is popular with
gourmands in Sigil. (Fortitude save DC 12.)

Mushroom Wine: Made with fermented fungus by the dark elves in shadowy Svartalfheim, it is popular with
many subterranean races, including dwarves and gnomes. (Fortitude save DC 12.)

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Rations, Arvandorian: These delicious rations are produced by the elves of Arvandor. Dried venison cured
with berries and herbs and flaky bread make up the largest portions. Rations for small creatures weigh ¼ of a
pound.

Rations, Undersea: Undersea rations are similar to their terrestrial counterpart, consisting of dried undersea
plants such as kelp, and dried fish, abalone, and the like. They are made in places such as the Elemental
Plane of Water and the underwater farms of Tir fo Thuinn in the Outlands. They are mostly eaten by those
who come from those places, or by those who are traveling through them. Rations for small creatures weigh
¼ of a pound.

Sheela’s Gold Cider: A cider made with apples from Sheela Peryroyl’s orchards in the Outlands. The
fermented version is quite potent, although it is a favorite of the smaller sorts, like halflings and gnomes. The
Greencage across from the Civic Festhall has a plentiful supply of it. (Fortitude save DC 13.)

Livestock and Related Gear

A variety of beasts roam the planes, and several have been domesticated by intelligent planars. Aside from
ordinary horses, riding dogs, chickens, and so on, below are listed some of the more notable planar animals
used in planar society.

Astral Streaker: These astral birds have become common in Sigil and beyond. Their intelligence, homing
instincts and loyalty make them great messengers.

Boar, Spittle: An amiable boar from the Outlands. While it can serve as a mount as well as a draft animal,
the drooling beast is far too cowardly to be trained for war.

Cow, Sand: A lumbering cross between a bull and a camel. It can operate as draft animal or mount.

Ethyk: A lemur-like creature from Bytopia, it has the ability to increase the aggression of others. This
aggression is always directed away from itself, as well as its mate and young. In the wild, it functions primarily
to cause predators to seek other prey. When trained, ethyks can use its ability to increase aggressions at its
master’s commands. Trained ethyks regard their masters as a relative, so any aggression will be directed
against others. They were barred from the Hall of Speakers long ago, and many other buildings and towns
disallow them. An ethyk takes at least one week to acclimate to a new master. They also have some agility
with their hands, and can be trained to retrieve objects or tie knots.

Hound, Aoskian: A trained, fully-grown Aoskian hound, perfect for guarding your case. As with all Aoskian
hounds, they are only found in Sigil and cannot use portals.

Hound, Spectral: These vicious dogs of the Astral Plane are most famously bred and used by the githyanki,
but some other planars with the jink keep them as well.

Pony, Arcadian: Arcadian ponies make useful draft animals, pulling carts, carriages, and cabs in Sigil and
elsewhere. Unfortunately, they will not accept riders.

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 Magical Items
It comes as no surprise that magic and enchanted devices are integral to the planes. While magic items are
hardly as common as dirt, and many inhabitants of the planes go their entire lives without handling one, they
are more prevalent than they are on most worlds of the Prime. Many have their origins on the planes, and
some are almost never found in the mortal realms of the Prime Material Plane.

Potion Descriptions
Oil of Stone Integration: This oil is applied to the user and their possessions. They are then able to pass
through stone and earth as if they were air. In addition, stone weapons and creatures composed of earth
(such as earth elementals) are unable to touch the oil-soaked user. Likewise, nothing coated with the oil may
move or hold any stone or dirt objects (though clever individuals may pick up a non-stone object to
manipulate stone objects). A creature coated with oil does not sink through stone and earth unless wishing to
do so, and unattended objects will not sink unless pushed. One flask contains enough oil to coat one
Medium-sized creature and its possessions or an equivalent area. The effects last for one hour and cannot be
removed before that without the use of magic.
Caster Level: 5th; Prerequisite: Brew Potion, merge into stone; Market Price: 750 gp.

Ring Descriptions
Ring of the Bariaur: The ring of the bariaur resembles the ring of the ram, but functions quite differently, and
is much rarer. It is only useable by a bariaur, and when worn allows the bariaur to wear any magical item
usually prohibited by his or her shape. Shoes, boots, leggings, armor, and so forth are transformed into
objects that fit on the bariaur. As long as the bariaur wears the ring and the items, the transformation stays in
effect. If either is taken off, the items reverts to their original shape and falls from the bariaur, without causing
harm to either the object or its wearer.
Caster Level: 7th; Prerequisite: Forge Ring, enlarge; Market Price: 8,000 gp.

Wondrous Item Descriptions

*Amulet of Superiority: These amulets were created by fiends to allow their lesser members a fighting
chance in the Blood War. When worn, an amulet gives the wearer’s attacks (whether melee or ranged, armed
or unarmed) the ability to bypass damage reduction as if they had a magical enhancement bonus.
Caster Level: 5th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, greater magic weapon; Market Price: 8,000 gp.

Baku’s Trumpet: Though not truly the instrument of the baku, or trumpet archon, these horns produced on
Mount Celestia possess the ability to paralyze any who evil creature that them with it’s piercing and beautiful
notes. Evil creatures within 100 feet of the trumpet when it is
sounded must make a Fortitude save (DC 18) or be paralyzed for
1d4 rounds. This item can be used three times per day. Anyone who
is evil and attempts to play the trumpet not only fails to do so but
must make a Fortitude save against the same DC or be struck mute
for 1d4 days.
Caster Level: ; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, ; Market Price: ;
Weight:

Boots, Chillfoot: These boots were created by a halfling cobbler in

Sigil. Wearing them in a normal environment is uncomfortable, as
they make a body’s feet quite cold. If worn in an area where there is
great heat, however, they provide excellent protection for the
wearer’s feet. The bearer can walk on burning coals or the hot
surfaces of certain planes. They provide fire resistance 12 for the
wearer’s feet only, and they do not provide the wearer any protection
from sinking in lava or the like. Of course if a sod’s hit by a red
dragon’s breath or a fireball, the boots do absolutely nothing for the
poor berk.
Caster Level: 3rd; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, resist
elements; Market Price: 500 gp; Weight: 1 lb.

53
Bottled Breath: These clear bottles produce an infinite supply of clean fresh air. The user must simply
uncork the bottle and drink from it as if it held liquid in order to take in the air, enabling someone to survive
indefinitely in areas that otherwise lacks breathable air. The bottle must be corked again each round or it will
lose its magical power.

Chains of Light: Originally created in Arcadia, some say these chains of pure light were first forged from
sunlight by the power Reorx himself. When used to bind any creature of evil alignment, they glow with the
intensity of a daylight spell. Any creature with a chaotic or evil alignment (including the bound victim) that
looks upon the chains is affected as if by a cause blindness spell. All others may look at the chains and what
they bind without penalty (unless otherwise susceptible to the effects of daylight).
If the bound creature attempts to escape the chains will either burn or freeze them, depending on which is
more harmful. The chains cause 1d2 points of damage the first round, 1d4 the second round, 1d6 the third,
and so on until they reach their maximum of 1d12 points per round. This damage ceases immediately once
the creature stops struggling. Escape Artist checks and Break attempts are at a DC of 40. If broken, the
chains become useless.
Caster Level: 17th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, daylight, holy smite, holy aura, creator must be good
and non-chaotic; Market Price: 36,000 gp; Weight: 5 lb.

Fiend Globe: Supposedly the creation of the baatezu lords, a fiend

globe is a small hollow ceramic ball measuring no more than 3
inches in diameter. When shattered (which is easy to do), it
summons a fiend from the Lower Planes to do the bidding of the one
who broke the globe. The fiend issues forth from the remains of the
globe, appearing as close to the shattered globe as possible. This
works even on planes and in areas where summoning fiends would
normally be forbidden (but not in areas where magic is not working,
such as dead magic zones or an antimagic field). The fiend
obediently serves its new master for one hour (doing literally
anything in its power that is asked of it), at which point it is returned
to its home plane. A globe may only be used once.

When a globe is broken, roll on the following table to determine what

fiend appears:
Caster Level: 17th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, gate; Market
Price: 7,650 gp.

Horn Caps of Battering: These are 1-inch-long brass

caps that fit on the end of a bariaur’s horns. They add a
+6 circumstance bonus to any attempt the bariaur
makes to break an object by ramming it with his or her
head. Both caps must be worn for the magic to be
effective.

Mark of Invisible Alignment: Marks of invisible

alignment come in a variety of shapes and sizes, but
the most common form is a simple gem shaped like a
tear. When a mark is placed on the user’s forehead, it
adheres to their skin and becomes invisible. The mark
masks the wearer’s alignment; the various alignment
detection spells reveal nothing, as if the wearer were
neutral. Effects that rely on the wearer’s true alignment,
such as holy smite, still function normally however.
Detect magic reveals the mark’s aura, but the only way
to see it is with a true seeing spell, which also reveal
the wearer’s true alignment. Only the wearer or a
targeted dispel magic can remove the mark, which
reappears and slides off the wearer’s forehead.
Caster Level: 10th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item,
nondetection; Market Price: 8,000 gp.

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Mimir: Also called Wells of Knowledge or Speaking Skulls, mimirs are a minor magical device composed of a
unknown silvery metal used by planewalkers and clueless alike because they answer questions spoken to
them, assuming those answers have been recorded into the device. They are effectively encyclopedias that
provide information quickly and without requiring any reading as the mimir will answer the question as best it
can with its knowledge (which is about an hour’s worth of talking), sounding much like an erudite lecturer. The
device only works when left to float in the water or air, rather like an ioun stone, where it will remain until
grabbed. Mimirs are commonly skull-shaped, but are also found as stars, disks, leaves, and other mundane
shapes. For some reason the devices only work on the Outer Planes, and if brought elsewhere any answers
comes out as gibberish. A feeblemind spell cast on a mimir will cause it to do the same, and they are also
stopped by silence spells.

While commonly found for sale in Sigil and the gate-towns, no one knows where mimirs originate. Attempts to
recreate them without using the strange metal have yielded imperfect results, and to date no respectable
blood has claimed responsibility. Standard mimirs are programmed with information regarding the Outlands
and will answer questions regarding that plane, even the asker’s general distance from the Spire. Since a
mimir can be purged of its original content and new information instilled, folk settle for using existing ones to
record whatever information they’d like.
Market Price: 2,000 gp; Weight: -.

Planar Mancatcher: This device is a long pole with a set of spring-loaded, sharpened jaws at the end of it,
designed to snare sods that can plane shift or teleport. The Mercykiller faction developed the mancatcher
long ago, and watchmen in many planar towns keep these handy for catching gith and other slippery
bashers.

To use one, the wielder makes a touch attack, which gains a +2 enhancement bonus. If successful, the jaws
clamp tightly around the body of the target. While caught, the target loses any Dexterity bonus, though the
trapped creature can make an Escape Artist check against DC 30, but suffers 1d2 points of damage with
each attempt. Alternatively, the victim can attempt to break free with a Strength check against a DC of 30,
which inflicts 1d4 damage per attempt, and destroys the device if successful.
While held the victim is affected as if by a dimensional anchor spell. If the victim attempts to use any effect
involving planar travel they are jolted with a strong burst of magical energy which causes 1d10 points of
damage, and they must make a Fortitude save against DC 30 or fall unconscious for 1d3 minutes.
Caster Level: 11th; Prerequisite: Craft Magic Arms and Armor, inflict moderate wounds, bull’s strength,
dimensional anchor; Market Price: 40,000 gp; Weight: 20 lb.

Portal Trap: This device is in the shape of a small ball of lead ½ inch in diameter. If the command word is
spoken (sometimes etched in tiny printing on the ball itself) and it is placed within the framework of a portal it
will explode the next time a creature passes through that portal. The portal need not be active to set the trap.
The ball explodes with the force of a fireball cast by a sixth-level caster, causing 6d6 points of fire damage on
both sides of the portal, with half the diameter blasting each side and possibly destroying the portal frame.
Should such a thing happen, those attempting to pass through the portal emerge from the side they entered.

Though the portal trap may not be disabled, it can be dispelled, and if removed from the portal where it has
been planted while the portal is inactive it ceases to function until placed in that same portal.
Caster Level: 6th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, fireball; Market Price: 4,000 gp;

Seeker Stones: These handy devices are a pair of perfectly clear peridot
balls that can be used to guide their user to the corresponding stone. The
bearer simply speaks the command word (which is invariably carved into
the bottom of its matching stone) and a glowing arrow appears in the
center of the ball pointing toward the other stone. The other stone does
not need to be active for its mate to home in on it, though if they are more
than 10 miles apart or on different planes nothing happens, and even
after being activated the stones will deactivate after reaching this limit.
The arrow grows larger and brighter the closer it gets to its companion
stone, until finally when it gets within five feet of the other stone the effect
ends. The stone can be deactivated by speaking its command word in
reverse.
Caster Level: 10th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, locate object;
Market Price: 8,000 gp; Weight: 7 lb. per stone.

55
Thought Recorder: These flat copper plates are six inches on a side. If pressed to the user’s temple for five
minutes, the image of what they were thinking about at that time appears slowly on the plate. This image
remains until someone else records an image. The origin of these plates is unknown, but they have appeared
from time to time in Sigil.
Caster Level: 3rd; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, silent image, detect thoughts; Market Price: 1,000 gp;
Weight: 1 lb.

Zadisband: A novelty item popular as a gift in Sigil. It is a simple leather headband or armband, but it
continually hums a soft, melodic tune. Owners often tire of the humming after a while and find someone else
to give it to. Tales of regifting zadisbands are a small joke among Cagers.
Caster Level: 1st; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, ghost sound; Market Price: 8 sp;

Ships/Vehicles

Some planewalkers rarely step foot on a vehicle; where portals and spells can transport a body from place to
place instantly, and on with planes that operate under different rules than the Prime, vehicles may seem more
trouble than they’re worth, especially when too large to fit through the average portal. Regardless, vehicles
abound on the planes, used mainly by merchants who need to transport goods from town to town. Of course,
every vehicle known on the Prime appears somewhere on the Great Ring; ships and boats sail the Oceanus
and the Styx; caravans trek across the plains of the Outlands and the fields of Arcadia, and so on.

Some planes are more difficult to travel than others. Those who spend time on the Elemental Plane of Air
need to find a way to get about, for instance. Some use spells and magical devices, while others ride winged
beasts trained for such work. A few may utilize gliders of various sorts, such as the flying harness. The
inhabitants of Carceri have developed ways to travel between the spheres of that plane, resulting in some
unique vehicles not seen elsewhere.

Though few planewalkers ever own anything larger than a carriage, many learn the basics of how such
devices operate in order to be prepared should anything go wrong. A rare few even aspire to own one or
more vehicles, whether to form merchant caravans, carry legions of mercenaries, or commit the occasional
act of piracy. The biggest difficulty such bashers face is defending their vessels while away, as they make
good targets for knights of the post and very few vehicles can trek safely across an entire plane.

Vehicle Descriptions
Ethereal Cruiser: Huge vehicle; Profession (sailor) +2; Spd fly 70 ft. (average); Overall AC 3; Section hp 30
(hardness 5); Section AC 3; Rigging 40 hp (hardness 0); Ram 6d6; Face 30 ft. by 10 ft.; Height 10 ft.; Crew 4;
Cargo 5 tons (Spd 60 ft. if 2 tons or more); cost 15,000 gp.

Ethereal cruisers are built and sold in the Shipworks of Freehold City in the Ethereal Plane by the Etherfarers’
Society. They are a convenient way to transport cargo across the Deep Ethereal, and serve as a quick form
of travel as well. Ethereal cruisers are built similarly to terrestrial water vessels, but because of the plane
where they operate, they function similarly to airships. The ship is constructed mostly of Prime-harvested
wood, with many key components crafted from stable etheric protomatter.

The cruiser can carry up to six passengers, in addition to its crew. There is a cabin at the stern, and a below-
deck hold for cargo. Ethereal cruisers move by the power of glowing solid ether sails that are unfurled from
masts situated along four axis points of the craft (both above and below the deck on either side of the ship).
The cruiser trails out a 600-foot long strand of protomatter as an anchor. If the rigging takes damaged equal
to 50% or less of its total hit point value, the cruiser’s movement is reduced to 35 feet. If the rigging
destroyed, the cruiser is no longer operational.

If an ethereal cruiser ever leaves the Ethereal Plane, its protomatter sails and anchor quickly evaporate.

Flying Harness: Large vehicle; Profession (pilot) +2; Spd fly wind 40 ft. (clumsy); Overall hp 20 (hardness 5);
Overall AC 4; Ram 2d6; Face 5 ft. by 15 ft.; Height 5 ft.; Crew 1; cost 400 gp.
Flying harnesses are wing-like harnesses of light wood and stretched skins developed by the mages who sail
the winds of the Elemental Plane of Air. They operate like other hang gliders, but the travelers on the Plane of
Air need not worry about finding a good spot to cast off from due to the gravity traits of that plane.

56
Freki Brothers Longship: Colossal vehicle; Profession (sailor) +2; Spd wind x 15 ft. (nautical poor), oars 20
ft. (nautical average); Overall AC - 3; Section hp 135 (hardness 7); Section AC -3; Rigging 40 hp (hardness
0); Ram 8d6; Face 70 ft. by 20 ft.; Height 10 ft. (draft 5 ft.); Crew 50 (40 rowers); Cargo 50 tons (Spd wind x
10 ft. or oars 15 ft. if 25 tons or more); cost 30,000 gp.

The Freki Brothers of Glorium are some of the finest shipwrights in the realms, even if the only things they
build are longships, which are usually used to reach Ysgard. Their superior construction increases the
handling, speed, and durability of the longship. The deck can hold two light catapults or ballistas.

Hot-Air Balloon: Huge vehicle; Profession (pilot) -4; Spd fly wind x 20 ft. (clumsy); Overall AC 3; Section hp
20 (hardness 5); Section AC 3; Rigging 20 hp (hardness 0); Ram 1d6; Face 10 ft. by 10 ft.; Height 5 ft.; Crew
1; cost 1,000 gp.

Hot-air balloons see use in a couple of places on the planes, most commonly the Elemental Plane of Air and
on Carceri. The inhabitants of Bytopia also use hot-air balloons, typically to transport goods between the
opposite layers of that plane. Balloons are filled with heated air, causing them to rise from the ground. The
pilots of passenger balloons use a small flame to fill the balloon, and then the pilots use the winds to sail the
balloon. Such balloons have room for one passenger in addition to a pilot.

The balloons of Carceri are made from the skins of various native creatures (or the skins of petitioners or
hapless travelers, according to the whispers heard in certain pubs). The skin balloons offer a non-magical
mode of travel between the orbs that float in that dread plane’s atmosphere. The gnomes of Bytopia, on the
other hand, fill balloons with heated air and then tie them up with stout ropes. These balloons are strapped to
cargo spheres, made of either wood or steel. One ton of cargo is the maximum for one sphere. The balloons
are let go, and when they reach the point where gravity reverses, the sphere descends to the surface, where
it is retrieved. There is obviously no piloting of such a contraption, but barring outside interference, the
balloon will reach its destination. Metal spheres are sometimes used in case something bursts the balloons
prematurely, sending the sphere plummeting to the ground. Wooden spheres have 20 hit points and a
hardness of 5, and travel at a speed of wind x 20 feet. Metal spheres have 60 hit points and a hardness of 10,
and a speed of wind x 10 feet.

Fortifications/Buildings

From the astral fortresses of the githyanki to the redoubts of the powers themselves, the multiverse sees an
endless variety of homes and strongholds, some of which exist in the most unusual locales and others that
have survived from ages long forgotten. One of the most well-known and peculiar sights are the walking
castles. These stronghold have legs shaped any number of ways (chicken legs, spider legs, and so on) fully
capable of crossing large treks of land. This is a common feature of mage strongholds in the Outlands,
enabling the spellcasters to move their kip with the shifting of the border rings that project from the spire,
ensuring their magic continues to operate. To ensure that their castles can still walk in magically suppressed
areas around the Spire, some lucky sods have been able to get divine powers to bolster the effect, allowing
some strongholds to continue moving as close as 200 miles from the spire. Of course, there’s no listed cost
for a god’s grace, but powers have ways on collecting on debts.

Walking strongholds are a variation on the crawling stronghold detailed in Stronghold Builder’s Guidebook. A
cottage with chicken legs costs an extra 14,500 gold pieces and moves at two miles per hour, or 48 miles per
day. To outfit your average-sized tower with enough legs to run around at the same speed costs 58,000 gold
pieces. Without divine fiat, a walking stronghold has its magic impeded at about 500 miles away from the
Spire. The magic ceases to function at all about 300 miles away from the spire. Mages suddenly finding
themselves in an area where the magic is impeded should run their fortresses away from the spire quickly to
prevent any chance that their home will tip over. The stronghold can also sit down and wait ’til the border
rings shift in its favor again.

Fortification Descriptions
Planar Wards: This is a set of carved marble-like white stone blocks, from four to eight in number. The
blocks are set up in sequence surrounding the area to be locked. A command word activates the wards,
emanating invisible walls that prevent portals and gates of any kind from opening within their boundaries.
Spells involving planar travel are likewise disabled as if by a zone of respite, though nothing prevents
creatures from physically entering the warded area.

57
Each block is carved with two numbers, and is about one-foot wide on each side. The first tells the user
where in the sequence of wards to activate it, and the second is the number of blocks in the set. Blocks from
one set do not work with the blocks of another set, and if someone attempts to use blocks from different sets,
the magic is drained from all sets involved. The placement of the blocks determines the overall shape and
area of the ward; they can be arranged up to 60 yards apart, in any pattern desired. The wall extends 60
yards above and below ground while arcing over to create a dome.

Speaking the deactivation command while in the warded area dispels the wards permanently. The wards also
dissipate and fail a month after activation. Once dispelled, the blocks are no longer magical.
Caster Level: 15th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, seal portal, zone of respite; Market Price: 10,000 gp;
Weight: 2 lb. per block.

Shift Snare: This magical wall augmentation operates similarly to planar warding, but with the added feature
of sending any would-be interloper to another place entirely. When designed, the shift snare for the
stronghold space is given a destination point within ten miles. The target may make a Will save against DC
24 to escape the snare; those who succeed are simply affected as if by planar warding. Those who fail the
saving throw are whisked to the predetermined location, appearing there instantaneously (and probably with
some surprise).
Caster Level: 17th; Prerequisite: Craft Wondrous Item, seal portal (MotP), zone of respite (MotP), gate;
Market Price: 45,000 gp per stronghold space or freestanding wall.

58
 Chapter 7: Sigil
The man sat at his desk, a pile of scrolls to one side illuminated by the flickering amber glow of candles.
Slowly and deliberately, he dipped a quill into a small inkbottle and began to write. At first there was only
gibberish, but soon words began to form themselves as he scratched more ink across the parchment, words
that held meaning to few but himself. They came to him in a torrent of information that he struggled to pluck
sense from, but from the chaos that spilled into his skull from unseen sources he crafted reason and purpose.
Names, places, events, possibilities. Meaning took shape in the splatters of ink, growing more defined and
more deliberate as he reached the end of the page. With a scatter of sand and a cantrip, the ink was dried,
allowing him to place it atop the stack of the others. Three more and he would glean some sense from the
day’s work and the coming potential of the next few weeks. Decisions would be made and he would task
others to the goals he formulated. Sense and purpose would come of it all.

His solace was interrupted then by a series of hesitant knocks upon the door. He’d already placed down his
pen and waited for the intrusion patiently, knowing it would come before it happened as with so many other
things.

“Enter Sarifel, I’ve been expecting you.” The candle flames danced in a gust of warm wind as the door to his
chamber slid open and a waiflike tiefling entered. Out of some nervous habit Sarifel brushed a strand of
brown hair away from his olive-toned forehead, replacing it behind the thin, curling ram horns that grew back
from his skull. He paused and waited for the man behind the desk to address him. “Considering your time on
this errand was spent within Sigil I have little insight into how your progress went. It remains dark, even to
me. Tell me. Did you do as I requested?” His face remained an unreadable mask as he crossed his hands
and waited for a response.

“It went well. The information was sold for a pretty piece of jink and I managed to drop it into the ears of a few
other berks who’ll do their own thing with it as well.”

“Does the arcanaloth suspect you?” There was a weight placed upon the question, for the first time showing
some vague irritation behind those brilliant green eyes that seemed to look through his servitor like he was a
glass case in a shop, spilling his secret contents out into the open.

“No...at least I don’t think so. As hounded for details as I was, I said what you told me to say, nothing more,
nothing less. It seemed to have worked, though I didn’t get as much as my initial asking price. The jackal
talked me down.”

“The jink is meaningless. The ‘loth has more where that came from I would assume. More than we do, but
that’s unimportant when we trade in secrets and things of belief.” He gave a knowing smile, but an approving
one cast towards the tiefling. “I have another task for you, a package to deliver to another of the select, this
time within Limbo. But I’ll have the details given to you later. For the moment you deserve some rest. You’ve
done well, Sarifel.”

The tiefling smiled with renewed pride, “I’m glad you approve. As before I’ll write down everything that
happened and have it in your hands by the morning.” He turned to leave, only muttering to himself after the
door had closed heavily behind him, “Not that you likely won’t already know everything before I’ve written it
down. Damned if I can tumble to how you snatch it out of my mind, or out of thin air.”

Back inside the room, the tiefling’s footsteps growing distant now and receding down the hallway, the man
smiled darkly. “Indeed, and not that you even have a clue yourself to what it is you’ve been doing. Secrets are
like that my friend; they hide themselves behind dark little veils of obscurity or, far too often, our own
unwillingness to face their reality. Follow that same self-deception and it turns to disbelief, and then see
where that gets you. Look if you have but eyes to look and ears to listen. But you don’t, and that’s why you
follow me. When you and they finally do open your eyes, by then you may wish you hadn’t. But now I only
have need to watch the effects of your actions on my behalf. I do think I’ll be pleased.”

59
60
 Sigil: The City of Doors

Greetings cutter and allow me to further introduce myself on these pages stained with ink and effort, blood
and betrayal, and my own honest toil. In the event that this work is separated from its companion volumes of
lore and darks, advice and wit, allow me to preface these pages that bare the mark of my pen once more. To
those of you who have made my acquaintance before, well met again, and for those of you fresh to my
words, greetings. I’ve written a good number of things in my past, foremost among them the Factol’s
Manifesto. And indeed, that volume earned me a death sentence from the Mercykillers.

But here I am, still alive, the Red Death split in twain and my sentence forgotten. Who then has had the last
laugh on the matter I ask?

My purpose for that volume was the same as my purpose now and forever more: The objective dissemination
of the truth. Undeniably, many of you will doubt my words as fully accurate, or suspect it of having some
underpinnings of falsehood or slander, seeking to manipulate events and opinions. But I assure you that is
not the case. I exist outside the games of politics, personalities and creeds within the City of Doors, now and
forever more. Take me as your personal guide to the storied places, persons and legends of Sigil.

Here in this volume, unchecked by censor or judge, lays the everyday knowledge of The Cage as well as
some deeper tales known heretofore only by graybeards and those golden lords and knights of the post who
prowl the gutters of the city, both gilded and foul. Her Dread Majesty indeed may perhaps sanction my work,
as she has done me no harm in my efforts thus far.

Newly arrived as one of the clueless to the City of Doors? Then read well and learn of the city you find
yourself within. My words might save your life, or lead to some foolishly squandering theirs. Call the city kip
already? Still, you might find a thing or two within new to you in all your self-professed knowledge of The
Cage and its inhabitants.

Do what you will with the information penned upon these pages; my goal is simply to state the facts unsullied
by those who would twist the truth to their own ends. My words before have always rung true. Find fault in me
there if you can, for here do they ring true once more. Learn well from me. As always, your servant of the
truth. – The Editor.

First Impression for the Clueless

Stepping into Sigil, regardless of which ward you enter, is always a unique, and not always an altogether
pleasant experience. Be that as it may, it is always remarkable and not easily forgotten. The first thing you’ll
probably notice is the sting in your eyes as you cough, and maybe struggle for your first breath of the thin,
soot-laden air mixed with the sounds and smells of a thousand worlds, planes, and their inhabitants. And then
you start to marvel at the place despite the dense blanket of haze that hovers like fog, mixed with the low
hanging clouds that form the city’s own weather. In a word: Sigil can be utterly dreary at the same time it
amazes and confounds.

That nearly constant haze and high hanging fog very well constitutes the average weather of Sigil. While the
city isn’t truly large enough to create its own weather patterns, a presumed number of portals exist that link it
to the Elemental Plane of Air, as well as the Paraelemental Plane of Steam, and perhaps even the
Quasielemental Planes of Lightning and Smoke. All of this, in combination with the influx of air from all other
portals in the city, and the combined cooking fires, exhalations of the residents, and any other similar things
combine to form the unique atmosphere of the City of Doors. It isn’t exactly pretty berk, even by a fiend’s
ideals. While the air in The Lady’s Ward might be a bit clearer most days, down towards the Lower Ward the
exhaust and smoke from the Great Foundry and all the other myriad workshops and forges combine to form a
yellowish, sickening blanket of smog over the city that spreads out to the other wards.

61
Now if this all kept up, eventually the air in the city would be unbreathable, or so the graybeards say. Every so
often when the smog seems like it can’t get any worse, it all improves in the space of a day; the air seems
cleaner, a blood can see further up into the “sky”, and the ring opposite seems much more detailed than
before. At these intervals the air is downright pleasant to breathe too. Not that it lasts all that long, but the
chant is that either winds blowing up off the Spire purge Sigil of its worst smog, or the Lady opens the portals
in such a fashion as to flush the air and replenish it anew when needed.

But I’ve gone down quite a tangent, and forgotten the scene at hand. Past the mildly acidic drizzle from
overhead on most every other day, you can stand and gawk at both deva and fiend conversing with one
another as they stride past you on the wide cobblestone street between two high eaved buildings. Glancing at
the surrounding structures themselves, you will notice the blades and ornate spikes that might decorate the
surrounding walls and terraces from which ravens and pigeons, among more exotic beasts, might roost or lie
skewered. As you walk you might be jostled by a passing bariaur, or a human and a golden skinned aasimar
speaking at length, and then notice that the buildings, regardless of grandeur or condition, all tend to bear a
unique and common style.

You see, Sigil’s buildings, from its most glorious and gilded structures of the wealthy and powerful to the
rotting ramshackle shanties of its slums, all have a distinct style and appearance in common. Several
features typify Sigil’s architectural tradition: blades, spiked fences, iron and stone ornamentation, and
razorvine. Of these features, the first three have practical uses for the buildings they decorate, while the last
is a widespread nuisance that is dealt with and has accommodated some function only in order to put a
positive spin on the hellish vegetation. While some of the racial enclaves and ghettos may deviate from this
typical architectural style, a building from Sigil is recognizable and distinct from most anywhere else on the
planes.

Blades sprout from many of the buildings in Sigil, rising up as razor-edged fingers to glimmer in the hazy light.
These ornaments likely originate in imitation of, and deference to the blades of Sigil’s enigmatic ruler and
protector, Her Dread Majesty, the Lady of Pain. But besides this likely origin, the blades are just as much for
protection against thieves and intruders.

The spiked fences common to most of the larger buildings in Sigil, and to a lesser extent the smaller and less
cared for buildings of the poorer wards of the city, have both a decorative function as well as practical ones
for the buildings they grace. Thieves find their grips and potential handholds topped by spikes, and windows
and shutters girded with iron. The spikes also deter some of Sigil’s indigenous birds such as executioner’s
ravens and some types of grayish green pigeons from roosting atop a berk’s kip. [To say nothing of mephits...
- The Editor]

Ornamentation in the form of either abstract designs or carved

imitations of perched figures and gargoyles in both iron and
worked stone is common. The more prominent the building or
the more wealthy the occupant, the more elaborate the
ornamentation. Decorative waterspouts, eaves and gables are
common in the more wealthy areas of Sigil, but are not
restricted to them. Iron and stone are the most common
building material used because they can be created through
magic, rather than imported at great expense by way of Sigil’s
portals. However, in the richer wards of the Cage, special and
unique varieties of stone, metal and wood have been imported
from places ranging from Mount Celestia, to Gehenna, to the
Quasielemental Plane of Mineral. But most commonly used as
building materials across all of Sigil are varieties of simple
grayish or white stone, iron, slate, and rough-hewn wood.

62
Razorvine

As you’re examining the city’s architecture, you’re bound to find a wall or two covered and overgrown by a
creep hedge or carpet of twisting, but oddly fitting black vine snaking up the stone. Mind your hands, lest you
draw back and find your fingers lacerated and dripping blood upon the vines, yourself, and the cobblestones
under your feet.

Razorvine, considered a blight upon the planes by many, is a dark, nearly black twisting vine that infests
parts of Sigil and proves nearly impossible to completely kill. The thin, twisting vines are dotted with dense
clusters of heart shaped leaves, which grow atop thin, triangular stems that are themselves as sharp as
razors. It can grow several feet a day, and the twists and knots of the vine make it near impossible to find the
roots.

This inability to purge the Cage of the vine is certainly not for any lack of trying on the behalf of many of
Sigil’s citizens. The vine is routinely hacked down, trimmed, poisoned, and burnt in an effort to kill it, or more
commonly to keep its rampant growth under control. Razorvine is likely of Abyssal origin, possibly having
been imported from the gate-town of Plague-Mort, though there is little proof to support this claim. Sigil’s
residents have adapted to using it as both a decoration and a security device on the walls and roofs of
buildings. Grown up and into elegant latticework on the sides of a cutter’s kip, the razor-edged plant will
prevent most any thief from daring to scale the wall. A single fall could eviscerate even the hardiest knight of
the post.

Finally, the vine itself can be used as cheap sustenance for certain grazing animals, and bundles of the dried,
trimmed vine are sold as such both inside and outside of Sigil. When properly prepared, razorvine can also
be used as a source of fuel for wood burning stoves and fireplaces. Faced with their inability to rid
themselves of the creeping plague, Sigil has sought to profit from the plant as best it can.

Location

Everyone seems to take at face value the chant that Sigil sits atop the great Spire in the exact center of the
Outlands. This’d place Sigil at arguably the very center of the Outer Planes, and, by some cutters’ reckoning,
the center of the multiverse. Any resident of Sigil
however will dismiss this notion as pure screed, despite
its attractiveness. Nothing is at the center of everything.
Ask any planewalker and they’ll tell you the same: that
it’s the rule of the Center of All showing through. Every
point in the multiverse sits in the midst of a sea of
everything, infinite and vast. From that perspective,
every point is the same and at the center of everything
as far as it’s concerned. It’s just the fact that Sigil’s
portals connect it to every plane of existence that leads
to the mistaken idea that it sits at the center of
everything.

Of course, some even question the assumption that it

sits atop the Spire in the first place. Thing is, the Spire
is supposedly infinitely tall. So how then can there be a
top of the Spire for something to be placed at? [Indeed,
Sigil is a mystery among mysteries. Some would even
say THE mystery. – The Editor]

63
 Entering and Leaving the Cage

Getting to and from Sigil is at the same time both simple and complex. The lowliest prime can slip into and out
of the city with but the Lady’s whimsy and the right key, while the gods themselves are barred from entering
no matter how long they rage in impotence at doorways forever sealed to them. There’s something poetic
about the reality of Sigil, with so many things stark and definite, but coexisting with the enigmatic and
unknown.

That said; Sigil’s hallmark is the nigh uncountable portals that are the reason behind its name, the City of
Doors. A door, a window, a flagstone, a tracing of cracks in a stone wall, a painted circle left by a barmy
Xaositect on the side of a tree. All of these are bounded spaces, and all of them potentially portals. Any bound
space within Sigil has the potential to be a portal to effectively anywhere in existence from the Outer to Inner
planes, the Prime, even demiplanes hidden throughout the multiverse. All that matters is having the correct
key.

A portal key can be anything. A leaf from a cutting of razorvine, a golden ring, a silver rose dipped in blood. All
of these could be portals keys. And indeed a portal key need not be material. It could be a certain song
hummed while walking backwards through the bound space, or even a thought in passing while crossing the
portal’s threshold. At the will of Her Serenity, all of these could be the keys to activating any of Sigil’s portals.

Indeed, the portals of Sigil are the only way in or out. Without the knowledge of the proper portal, and the
proper key to that portal, a body can’t enter or exit Sigil. There is no other way to enter or leave the city,
though some have attempted to do so by leaping from Sigil’s ring in the spot called ‘Suicide Alley’ where the
outer wall is low enough to climb over. What happens to those is dark; none have ever been proven to return.
If Sigil sits atop the infinite Spire, one might simply fall for infinity after jumping clear from the ring to
eventually die of starvation or thirst. Some have even suggested that the poor sods might be thrown to a
random plane, but again this is unproven. Curious? Try to look over the walls and see what lies beyond.
Some have done so, especially those cutters who have the ability to fly, and they see neither the Spire, nor
even a void. Nothingness. Try as they might, those who’ve seen over Sigil’s walls say only that nothing lies
beyond them, and leave it at that, words failing to fully describe the concept. The multiverse has its mysteries,
and Sigil lies at the heart of many of them.

The portals of Sigil have an even more unique, and humbling feature. The powers may not enter Sigil.
Powers, deities, gods, whatever your name for them, they are barred from entering the City of Doors. Rage
though they might to take the gateway to the planes, they may not so much as step a foot through a portal
into Sigil. Of everything on the planes, little may be held as a true constant save this: Gods may not enter
Sigil. Perhaps this is a byproduct of Sigil’s location atop the spire, or its place at the so-called center of the
planes, but most graybeards acknowledge but one answer to this dark: Her Serenity, the Lady of Pain.

There is no way around the limitations imposed upon Sigil, though many have tried. Sigil is coexistent upon
the Astral Plane, though planewalkers upon the Astral have said that the city is surrounded by a palely
luminescent, and utterly impenetrable bubble that sears the mind and defies proper explanation. This astral
barrier wholly prevents passage into Sigil through the Astral Plane, leaving only the Lady’s portals as viable
entry. Still, the city isn’t so much separated as, well, caged off from the Astral. Spells and even psionics that
work by connecting to that plane do work within Sigil. It’s just impossible to enter or exit the city, or even
observe anything but its mysterious shielded boundary by means of the Silver Void.

Other spells such as summoning and similar conjuration magic fail spectacularly within Sigil, although some
wizards are said to know of spots within the city where by chance, or more likely the Lady’s will, such spells
do work, within limitation. Plane shift spells fail, though teleportation works within the confines of the city.
Again such spells work, but nothing may cross into or out of the city, except by way of the portals. Even such
powerful spells as gate and wish fail to breach the limitations imposed upon Sigil. Indeed, if even the powers
cannot breach the wards set around the City of Doors, what hope does mortal magic hold to accomplish the
same?

64
Some say that the portals of Sigil appear at the whimsy of the Lady, others that they are all random and She
only controls the keys to open them. Others still say that nothing is random and indeed, She creates Her
portals not at whimsy but with deft, measured strokes of will. As with most things regarding the Bladed
Queen, the matter remains dark. But what is known is that the Lady of Pain has the ability to shut down the
portals of the city, even all of them at once. She has done so before, and could do so again. And with that,
mind this: the City of Doors has but so much air.

Shape and Direction

The City of Doors, being built along the inside of a great torus atop the Spire, has a rather unique shape.
Indeed standing upon any of the streets of the burg, given enough clear space to see for any decent stretch,
one can see the city curving up and along the circumference of the ring. Looking up at night, when a basher
can see through the perpetual haze, you can see the twinkling lamps, fires and other lights from the streets
and buildings clear across the ring on the other side of the city. One big ring sitting at the very center of the
Great Wheel of the Outer Planes. Coincidence, or the Unity of Rings shining through? Let graybeards ponder
over that question. Allow the clueless to stare and wonder. The rest of us just accept it and live out our days
without giving it much thought.

Shape aside, the size of Sigil, from one end to the other, as determined in the past by Harmonium and
Guvner surveys, places the Cage at roughly five miles across, and twenty miles in circumference. However,
these are simply approximations and an average of the myriad values they found. See, the actual size of Sigil
is not set to any value. The Lady can alter the size of the City of Doors at Her whim, making it larger or
smaller for whatever mysterious reasons and purposes She has. Likely if the population of Sigil exceeded a
certain amount Her Serenity might simply allow the city to grow in size to accommodate these changes, with
her servants, the dabus, creating new buildings and paving new streets.

Another artifact of the unique ring shape of Sigil is that, like most planes, there’s no easy way to orient
yourself for directions. There’s no north and south, no east or west. All directions end up being relative to
specific points in the city and to the Spire (not that it can be seen from within Sigil, but it’s assumed to be
there, somewhere). In this manner, you give direction by which wards to pass through or go towards. For
instance, to get to the Gatehouse from the Lower Ward, you would travel to the Hive. With the ring “laying on
its side” above the Spire, there also exist up and down, commonly known as spireward and downward,
corresponding o up and down
respectively, which govern
direction to the edges of the
city.

Modrons and certain lawful

cutters, such as the former
members of the Fraternity of
Order, break from this system
of relative direction and favor
a system of radial and chord
wise coordinates. Most bloods
don’t tend to bother with this
exact system, favoring the
more common, and while less
exact, easier to use methods
of giving directions relative to
the wards and the spire.

65
 Telling Time

Time in the City of Doors is measured along a convention that’s been in place for about as long as anyone
can remember. Though admittedly, records of the history of Sigil itself are rather sketchy beyond a thousand
years or so, and grow even dimmer the further back a cutter delves. Now, while most Primes will tell you that
their own worlds are ruled by a clear cut day and night, alternating between a blazing star in the day sky and
various numbers of moons at night, Sigil has no real sky with heavenly bodies by which to tell the time. Yet
there still exists something akin to day and night in the burg. Here it’s called peak and antipeak, for the times
when the dim, hazy light that seems to spring out of the very air above the ring of Sigil is waxing or waning to
its highest or lowest points. That said it’s never truly bright in the city save for the hours surrounding peak.
Otherwise, it’s usually a subdued glow of early morning or growing twilight, filtering through the haze, or,
during the hours around antipeak, when the sky is a more or less an artificial night. And although Sigil has no
sun or moon or stars, being that the city is ring shaped, during the hours around antipeak, a cutter looking up
can see the faint twinkle and glimmer of lights on the streets and in buildings clear opposite of them on the
other side of Sigil. Well, when the air is suitably clear of fog or haze anyways.

The roll of years is something of a mixed bag in Sigil and frequently comes to confuse the clueless and
graybeard alike. For while Sigil is, or is presumed to be, eternal in every sense of the word, written records of
history in the City of Doors are hard to come by the further back one looks. Without accurate and
longstanding historical records there exists nothing by which to judge the flow of time, or by which to date
against. The latest convention for keeping track of the years has been, until recent history, giving the date by
the number of the year of the current factol of the Fraternity of Order. With the assassination of Factol
Hashkar, and the flight of the Guvners from Sigil after the Faction War, there has been no standard
convention in place for the roll of years since then. In common usage until recently have been to label the
years since then as the 5th year of the Faction War, the 5th year of the Factions’ Fall, and the 5th year of the
Liberated Sigil. While still not official, the most commonly used method, now increasingly seen in documents
relating to city business, is to label the years relative to the Lady’s edict banishing the factions. Thus a year
would be described as the 5th year of the Lady’s Edict.

Debate is currently ongoing within the Sigil Advisory Council that would establish an official convention for the
roll of years as a standard, but with other myriad issues facing them it is unlikely to be pushed to the forefront
of debate. For now the unofficial official convention works as well as any other.

66
 Inhabitants

Being the nominal center of the Outer Planes (at least from the Cagers’ perspective), and with links to points
across the multiverse, the Cage is populated by members of nearly every race and culture imaginable. While
the list of different races is much too exhausting to write down in this limited space, suffice to say, the
exemplars and planar branches of the prime races abound and form the majority of the population of Sigil.
The planetouched races are represented largely by aasimar and tieflings within the City of Doors. While there
also exists a smaller and visible amount of the various genasi races, any of the more exotic planetouched
races are a small minority collectively. Also of note is the fact that the Outer Planar races vastly outnumber
the natives of the Inner Planes, despite Sigil’s portals to every plane in the multiverse.

From ward to ward, the population of the City of Doors varies with respect to composition by both planars or
primes, as well as the types of bashers that populate the ward. Many of the more exotic races, and those who
have been historically more insular, persecuted within Sigil, or across the planes in general, tend to
accumulate among themselves in their own racially distinct neighborhoods. Indeed, a number of racial
enclaves across Sigil have grown large enough to merit distinction as districts of their own within a given
ward.

The Lady’s Ward is nearly free of the fiendish races, and relatively few tieflings grace its streets or call the
ward kip except for the touts of the city, which number many tieflings among their number. Humans, half-
elves, various genasi (particularly air genasi, who appreciate the cleaner air of the ward), aasimar, zenythri,
and bariaur make up the stock of the ward in number from largest to smallest. The powerful and the
opportunistic reside in this ward alongside the honest and the upstanding. By crime or by the law, a blood
may find themself fleeced of his jink one way or the other if they’re not careful within the ward. Alongside the
crosstrade, the wealthy, and the knights of the post are the various members of the clergy. They abound in
The Lady’s Ward in numbers larger than in any other section of the city, with even the occasional divine proxy
traversing the wide avenues.

Within the Lower Ward a cutter will find the most diverse collection of racial types within Sigil, though true to
its name, the number of portals to the Lower Planar tends to skew this mix of races towards a more fiendish
bent. Regardless, humans are the largest group, followed almost equally by tieflings, githzerai, and bariaur.
Less numerous, but still represented in numbers one cannot dismiss, are elves, dwarves, gnomes, half-elves,
and rogue modron. Indeed, the Lower Ward, unbeknownst to many, was ages ago called the Prime Ward, for
the ghettos of the Clueless herded and sequestered there. [An idea which Cirily of the Sigil Advisory Council
would likely find attractive once again. – The Editor] And here, within the racially diverse atmosphere of the
ward, most bashers tend towards common labor, most of them having little training in sorcery or swordplay.
Forge workers, pot menders, and tailors have little use for such crafts. More often than not the populace
trends more to mundane means than in most wards.

In the Hive, the poorest and most crime-ridden ward of all of Sigil, the racial mix becomes much different from
the other wards. Humans are hardly the most common race, and are a considerable minority when compared
with the number of tieflings, githzerai, chaonds, bariaur, half-elves, monstrous humanoids, giant-kin, and full-
blown fiends. Celestials and aasimar are virtually a rarity within the ward, for good reason with the number of
fiends and bashers of a criminal nature.

Within the utter squalor of the Hive, the masses of living detritus tend towards little to no education, and so
the educated and the rich tend to be a rarity in most areas, except for those few who have moved into the
ward either to exploit, employ, or preach to the population. Some berks find that they can make a name for
themselves with their skill or magical prowess in the ward’s criminal circles. The unorganized, or organized
and less powerful, criminal elements of Sigil reside in the Hive. Here thievery can allow even a relatively
unskilled leatherhead to make quite a living for themselves inside the ward, or to venture outside, make their
jink, and then flee back to avoid the rule of law outside the Hive.

67
The Clerk’s Ward, home of the bureaucracy that daily greases the wheels of Sigil’s government, tends to be
rather drab when compared to the other wards of Sigil. Its citizens comprise a population made up largely of
humans, with smaller numbers of githzerai, tieflings, zenythri, bariaur, dwarves and halflings. Most exemplars
tend to avoid the ward for whatever reason, maybe considering the mundane lot of little importance in their
schemes.

The citizens of the Clerk’s Ward tend to be a bit higher educated than in many of the other wards, with more
skill using a pen than a sword for many. However, that’s not to say that the unskilled have no use in the ward.
They simply won’t have any chance of gaining much influence, but they can, and do manage to make a living
serving as guards, servants, and laborers.

The Guildhall Ward stands in marked contrast to the Lower Ward, but also in startling similarity in terms of
racial complexion. While the ward is just as diverse as the Lower Ward, the population tends towards a mirror
opposite of it, with the fiends and fiend-touched races replaced by celestials and aasimar; and here, even
more so than in the Clerk’s Ward, a large number of spellslingers and magical artisans call the ward kip.

The Market Ward is fairly diverse with regards to racial composition, though much of the diversity comes from
the daily influx of buyers. After all, every cutter in Sigil has things they like or need to purchase, and the Great
Bazaar of the Market Ward has the largest selection of merchants and
vendors within all of Sigil. Among the merchants themselves, there’s more
than a fair share of bariaur and half-elves along with the human population.
Here, fiends can be seen passing by celestials on a daily basis, and none
seem to give it much a second thought. Still, the occasional fight between
passing Baatezu and Tanar’ri makes way for an opening in any crowd within
the ward.

Most cutters of any background can find a use for themselves within the ward,
be it for the security of the merchants, creation of items, preaching to the
crowds in the Bazaar, or bobbing some sod for his coin. The ward takes all
kinds and passes little judgment upon them. This facet of daily life remains
one of the most lingering influences of the Free League. [Though admittedly
they never officially existed as a faction, so it’s unfair to say that they no
longer exist with the Lady’s Edict in place. They’re still here with the same
faces and the same social and business circles, but no longer by the same
name in public. – The Editor]

Buying/Selling/Services

Sigil, as with any other city of its size and population, has a wide variety of
services hawked by those canny bloods with skills, ranging from the common
to rare, and abilities, ranging from unskilled to masters of their craft. From the
portals come flooding into the burg a vast diversity of products, wares, and
raw goods from all corners of the planes. From street corner vendors’ carts, to
shops, to whatever a berk can hold in his hands, the wares of commerce are
to be had by those with the jink for it, or the quickness to bob it off those who
do.

Most of the business within Sigil, or at least the vast bulk of it, takes place
within the Great Bazaar inside the appropriately named Market Ward. Of
course, to find something within the ward isn’t always quite so easy. One must
consider the size of the area it occupies and that most of the shops are
pitched upon the ground in a haphazardly manner and may change position

68
slightly depending on the circumstances and the goods they sell. [Illegal goods move fast, in every sense of
the word. – The Editor] Most products sold in the Market Ward are on the up and up, though other areas such
as the Night Market within the Hive sell to customers unconcerned with prior ownership or price.

Other shops are dotted throughout Sigil, in each and every ward, with the wards in turn giving a bit of flavor to
each shop, and the shops themselves giving something back to their districts. Poignant examples that serve
to exemplify this range from the Friendly Fiend in the Lower Ward, Parts & Pieces in the Market Ward [With
the ever so added benefit of being run by Seamusxanthuszenus, Slayer of Fiends and Merchant Most
Excellent! Aka ‘That Mephit with the Hat’. (N male dust mephit). Need I say more? – The Editor], Tivvum’s
Antiquities in the Market Ward, and Traban’s Forge within The Lady’s Ward. All of these shops have their own
unique flavor that adds to, and derives itself from their ward of residence. Indeed, so do most of the small,
independent merchants within Sigil to an extent.

But shops aside, all manner of services are available within the City of Doors, such as tours of the city
available from the Tout and Escorts guild, entertainment provided by the Civic Festhall and Entertainers Guild,
and the location of desired portals provided by the members of the Doorsnoop’s Guild. Since the fall of the
factions, many of Sigil’s guilds hold far more influence in the city, and consequently offer more services and
benefits to their members than in the previous seven centuries of their existence.

Across the city, a blood can find sedan chair rides or Arcadian pony drawn carriages to ferry him over or
through the crowds, and young scaps called light boys carry glowing staves to light the way for a cutter
walking in Sigil after dark. Life is much easier for those with jink to freely spend on their own luxury.

Magical items of all types and

manufacture may be bought from
the merchants or spell-slingers of
the city. At the same time, arcane
knowledge itself can be found in
both the Great Library, the
Sensory stones of the Civic
Festhall, and smaller and more
private groups like the Society of
Luminiferous Aether.

And bub... a hundred different

alehouses, bub taps, and
watering holes can be found
across the breadth of the city.
Each of them with their own
unique atmosphere, clientele,
and price range, to say nothing of
other entertainment provided to
the patrons. [The Fortunes Wheel
in The Lady’s Ward, and the
Bottle and Jug in the Hive are
perhaps the two most polar
opposites in this regard, though
under the surface they have
much more in common than the
patrons of the former are likely to
admit. – The Editor]

69
 Keepers of the City

The Lady

The planes have mysteries cutter, and not all of them have answers. Walk the planes long enough and that’s
something you’ll take to heart. Some things just ARE. You don’t question them, you don’t fight them, and you
don’t so much as stand in their way. They just exist and you accept it.

Not the lady of pain, no, the Lady of Pain. Her Serenity, Her Dread Majesty, and the ultimate power in Sigil
(perhaps anywhere else, it’s reckoned by some). She keeps and controls the portals of the City of Doors, and
She bars the powers from entering. Appearing as a tall, robed woman with Her face sprouting a halo and
headdress of blades from Her very flesh, She floats silently above the streets of Sigil. She is the protector of
Sigil and, by that, all of its inhabitants, not that She likely cares one way or another for anyone in the city. But
any threats to Sigil itself or to Her own power and She reacts. During these select few times in Sigil’s history,
terrible Her fury has been, and most Cagers prefer to forget such occurrences.

From time to time, She may randomly float down an avenue, passively observing before vanishing around a
corner without a trace. Wise bloods look away and avert their eyes, or quickly find business elsewhere. She
never speaks; never has in the history of Sigil as far as any know. In the scant few times She’s needed to
make Her will known directly She’s done so
through one of Her servants, the dabus, as
She floats silently behind them, never a
mark of emotion crossing Her face. Not
that it’s wise to stare into that continence.

She’s not a god, get that straight. She’s

something else, more or less; none know
the dark of it. But never worship Her, not
even in jest. Those who do are found dead;
their skin flayed from their bones, seen
walking through Sigil when the Lady
appears and Her shadow reaches out to
strike them. Wherever Her bladed, serrated
shadow touches, their body erupts with
slashes, wounds and gouges as if from a
storm of knives and razors. None have
ever survived the touch of Her shadow, nor
even been successfully resurrected
afterwards. They die, that is certain, for
when She acts, She acts with certainty.

The chant even goes that centuries ago,

before the Great Upheaval, the Lady
penned a true deity into the dead book,
Aoskar, the self-proclaimed Portal Father
and patron of planewalkers and
opportunity. She killed him, simple as that.
They say for one reason or another he
offended Her, or plotted to take the City of
Doors for himself.

70
The Portal Father

Long ago, before the Shattered Temple District gained its name and the Athar claimed the ruins as their own,
the Shattered Temple was the High Temple of Aoskar. At its height, Aoskar claimed nearly half of the
residents of the Cage as his worshippers, with many of them whispering a prayer to him before passing into
or out of a portal to Sigil. In fact, eventually the worship of Aoskar become nearly synonymous with the City
of Doors itself, and a time came when berks began to worship the Lady of Pain as an aspect of him.

Whatever his ultimate reasons, Aoskar’s final offense to the Lady was when one of the dabus took up the
robes of his priesthood and endorsed the worship of the Father of Portals, forsaking Her Serenity in doing
so. That dabus, still alive and forsaken by his own kind, is known as Fell. None besides him and the Lady
know the true dark of what exactly happened, save that the temple, and all within were obliterated in what
would be called by some graybeards as the Day of Blades and Fury. The temple was reduced to rubble
along with the city surrounding it, and Aoskar, along with all of his mortal worshippers throughout the
multiverse, were killed by the lancing shadow of Her Serenity in a single moment of horror. Some claim to
have seen the withered husk of Aoskar upon the Astral, its stony face locked into a gasp of terror, one
petrified arm raised as if to ward off some attack, and pierced through with glimmering, metallic blades.

The symbols and trappings of the faith of Aoskar have since then been considered anathema within Sigil,
such was Her fury that day to not only kill a greater power but all of his mortal host as well. Such are the
lengths that the Lady will go to protect Her city and Her position within.

Speculation on the true nature of the Lady is rife among

scholars, sages, and the common folks of Sigil alike. But
answers are never forthcoming from any source. Still, the
common chant, most likely all screed without a shred of
proof, holds a number of common myths. Some say that the
Lady is a mortal who found Sigil and used it to grant Herself
immeasurable power. Other rumors hold that She is a
renegade, or risen, Tanar’ri lord from the Abyss. Others say
that she was hatched from a dabus egg [Whatever that is –
The Editor] by Io, the draconic overpower. A few even
suggest She may simply be an illusion of the dabus
themselves, or their queen, much like that among bees in a
hive. Now dead sages, rumored mazed or flayed, have
claimed that the Lady is not the ruler of Sigil, but its ultimate
prisoner. After all, why else might Sigil be called the Cage?
Some have compared the Lady to an overpower, or some
unique, but nondivine being, so ancient as to defy mortal
definitions. A being who exists to keep Sigil free of any and all
divine influences, perhaps in an attempt to balance the
planes themselves.

Of course, not a shred of proof exists to shed a light upon the

mystery. And those who seek to delve too deeply into the
Lady’s secrets tend to vanish without a trace, gone, whisked
away on the winds of oblivion.

71
DM’s Dark: Using the Lady

The Lady of Pain is less an NPC than a setting mechanic. She transcends any game mechanic and has no
stats. Should She be directly challenged by PC’s or NPC’s, nothing they do should be capable of hitting or
harming Her. Not a wish, not a miracle, not even epic spells. Even the overpowers cannot defy the barriers
preventing powers from entering the Cage (not that such beings tend to have interests beyond their sphere
of influence anyways). Within Sigil, the Lady of Pain should be considered as close to all powerful as
needed. That said, the Lady should not be overexposed or used outside of rare occasions lest She lose the
mystique and grandeur that surrounds Her, along with the unknown details of Her history and true
connection to Sigil or indeed roll within the multiverse itself.

Those who challenge the Lady are mazed or flayed with no sympathy, malice, or quarter given by Her
Serenity. Those who harm Sigil or disrupt the life of the city in grand fashion will suffer the same fate, as will
those who seek to delve too deeply into the secrets of the Lady (if they manage to escape insanity in their
quest). Some things are beyond the scope of the PC’s in the setting, and interacting with the Lady in all but
the most rare and unique fashion should be avoided. At most, a character may see the Lady floating silently
down a street in Sigil, or perhaps once in the course of a long and well-developed campaign a PC may
witness a flaying or an edict given by the Lady to them or others. Such edicts should be reserved for
campaign defining events with major ramifications within Sigil.

Considering all this, the Lady is not omnipotent (not completely, anyways). In terms of the metaplot, certain
“weaknesses” have been exploited in the past, and the rare NPC has seemingly come close to gaining some
victory over Her, only to ultimately fail (and sometimes with evidence such attempts were merely part of the
Lady’s design). In any case, the Lady should always remain above and beyond the ambitions of the PCs.

The Mazes

Those who act against the Lady, such as by planning rebellion against Her, destroying portions of the city,
harming the dabus, or causing any large scale disruptions are typically not flayed, but mazed. Such
offenders to Her rule simple vanish. They may take a walk, or step away from companions for but a second,
and find themselves walking down a deserted street or empty hallway they don’t recall having been there
moments before. Regardless, when they poor sods turn around, the street or hall has looped back upon
itself and they are trapped. It seems that Her Serenity has a way of spinning portions of Sigil itself out and
replicating them back upon themselves. These fragments grow into one of the Mazes, ethereal demiplanes
flung into the darkest depths of the Deep Ethereal. Once inside, a berk doesn’t age, or so it seems, and food
simply appears for them thrice daily. There’s always said to be one single exit, though the source of this dark
is unknown. Perhaps it allows the determined to find their freedom, or simply a way to taunt the condemned
with one final ephemeral carrot as they rot alone for eternity.

In truth, the Mazes are not quite so cut off from the multiverse as one might think. It’s possible to find the
Mazes out in the deeps of the Ethereal Plane, wrapped round with strings and filaments of congealed
protomatter, the maze itself a dimly glowing bubble containing the excised portions of the city multiplied a
hundred fold. One can enter the maze much like any other demiplane, but getting out is another matter
entirely. Once inside, the trespassers are trapped likewise and must find the solitary exit portal themselves
or die of slow starvation, for they are not fed by the maze.

It’s also possible to find a portal into one of the Mazes. In fact it’s said this was done a number of years back
to retrieve the mazed factol of a faction dead for nearly a millennia. Chant is he emerged from the Mazes not
a day older than when he was consigned by Her Serenity. It’s also said he left the Cage by the closest
possible portal, not wanting to tempt the Lady to send him back again, or have Her shadow cross his path.
[Good old Vartus Timlin, Factol of the Expansionists. And not having aged a day since the first time I met
him so many, many years ago. – The Editor]

72
The Dabus

Commonly seen in most every part of Sigil, existing as the silent caretakers of the City of Doors and servants
of the Lady of Pain are the dabus. The dabus appear as humanoids of average height, robed and nearly
indistinguishable from one another, with two sets of horns, one ram and one goat, sprouting from their
foreheads just below a shock of upstanding white hair. It is nearly impossible to tell one dabus from another,
and due to their physical similarity it remains impossible to estimate the true number of dabus that inhabit the
city.

The dabus act as the caretakers of Sigil, floating, rather than walking above the streets in small groups to
repair the roads, trim razorvine back from buildings, and keep the streets clean of debris and detritus. Of late,
the dabus have also taken upon themselves the duties of magistrates within the City Courts in order to
restore unbiased justice to Sigil, untainted by the suspect work of the magistrates formerly of the Fraternity of
Order.

This recent act has also appeared to diminish the number of dabus observed upon the streets of Sigil, and
led to the formation of the Sanitation Guild to pick up the duties formerly held solely by the dabus themselves.
This has led some graybeards within Sigil to postulate that there is a set number of Dabus in existence at any
point in time. The answer remains dark.

Within Sigil, legend has always held that the dabus reside within hidden warrens deep beneath the city
streets. However, none have ever observed the dabus entering these fabled retreats of theirs. At most, when
dusk falls over the city the dabus have been seen floating down into openings to the Great Below, or simply
turning corners and vanishing from the streets. Perhaps the most defining, and the most perplexing, feature
of the dabus is the peculiar manner of communication they possess. The dabus are mute, and while they can
apparently listen to and understand any known method of
communication, they possess neither audible nor telepathic
modes of speech. Rather, the dabus project above their heads
a string of illusory symbols and pictures that form words. The
so-called dabus rebuses can be confusing and difficult to
translate to those unfamiliar with their chosen method of
speech, though the rebuses are always phrased to translate
into the favored language of whomever the dabus are
speaking to.

Those seeking aid in understanding the dabus might do well

to purchase one of the many guidebooks to Rebus speech,
commonly available across the city in bookshops or street
vendors in the Market Ward. Most of the books are based off
the groundbreaking work of the linguist Milori (CG female
lilland Brd 2), a lilland who spends most of her time within Sigil
speaking to newcomers and cataloging any language, or
variant of a language, new to her. Based out of the Clerk’s
Ward, her swansong, The Dabus-Common Phrasebook, also
known by its alternate name, The Dark Revealed, can be
purchased or her services bought for the same purpose.
[Milori’s work is more reliable, if a bit more expensive, than
most of the other books sold under similar names within Sigil.
She’s quite a pleasant person to hold company with as well,
though I understand the dabus nearly as well as she, and thus
have only had occasion to speak with her a scant few times. –
The Editor]

73
A dabus have never been observed outside of Sigil, and indeed it would seem that perhaps they are tied to
the city in some way. When asked, the dabus have answered that they were born of Sigil itself. Whatever they
mean by that, when asked who they serve, they respond back with a single rebus: that of the bladed head of
the Lady of Pain. No other answer is appropriate, or forthcoming. Additionally, some graybeards have
speculated that there may exist some link between the dabus, and the phirblas, denizens of their own
ethereal demiplanes who bare distinct resemblances to the dabus in some of their modes of speech, society,
and appearance. But the links are tenuous, and with no proof of this connection the idea has fallen out of
acceptance by most scholars. Both races dismiss the idea as screed, for what its worth.

The dabus are utterly loyal to Her Serenity, and any harm or molestation of the dabus is taken as a threat to
Sigil itself. Those guilty of this crime are, if not immediately, often sent to the mazes within a short period of
time. On those rare occasions when a dabus has been killed, the murderer has been seen transfixed by the
razor edged shadow of the Lady in full view of the public, flayed alive as punishment, their screams lasting
minutes before death takes them. The loyalty of the dabus however holds but one known caveat. And that is
Fell, the fallen Dabus, whose pitiable and enigmatic story is penned elsewhere within this volume.

The final role the dabus play within Sigil is that of spokesmen for the Lady. Any proclamation of the Lady’s will
arrives through the dabus who in the past have appeared, one floating before Her, to serve as mouthpiece to
their silent, enigmatic queen. The Lady, at most, points a sleeve in the direction of the intended target of Her
message. The dabus then speaks with a rebus, headed typically by ‘It is the will of the Lady that...’

But even when not speaking on behalf of the Lady, the word of the dabus can be taken and accepted as truth.
They will not lie, and they will answer questions posed to them. Even questions as simple as ‘Which way to
the Great Bazaar?’ will be answered, though the dabus have their duties, and repeated questioning may
reward the berk with a cold shoulder as they ignore him. Of course, some questions the dabus may simply
refuse to answer, or their answer may simply come as an enigmatic symbol or phrase with no further
explanation. When asking them, ‘What is the Lady?’ for example, they respond once more with only the
haunting image of the bladed aspect of Her Serenity, and nothing more. For them, and perhaps for us all,
there is no further answer to be had.

The City Council

After the Faction War and the subsequent edict of the Lady of Pain declaring that the factions must relinquish
their political power in its entirety, the citizens of the Cage were left with a sudden power vacuum and
cessation of an actual organized body to undertake the day-to-day running of vital civil services. Thus was the
Sigil Advisory Council established.

The Sigil Advisory Council is charged with the running of Sigil in the face of the absence of the factions, since
the guilds of Sigil do not at present have the numbers or the popular support of the population for the task.
The current nine-member council is elected on three-year terms, with the council chair elected for a four-year
term herself. The chairman, or chairwoman as the current case may be, is elected from within the council
itself rather than put to popular vote. Voting for the council is run and overseen by the City Courts, with the
dabus serving as impartial vote counters, and a single vote is given to every property owner within Sigil,
without regards to the amount or value of the property. This last stipulation prevents the stacking of votes by
some of the more powerful and wealthy landowners in the Cage such as Zadara the Titan, Shemeska the
Marauder, Timmon d’Arlen, and Jeremo the Natterer.

And so, while not truly representative of the city, those paying taxes upon their property are represented
considering that by and large their gold supports the city hierarchy. As well, despite the council’s name, it has
much more than an advisory role in the City of Doors. All of its declarations and rulings are backed by the City
Courts, the agreement of the vast majority of the guilds, and by the City Guard if need be.

74
As of the Fifth Year of the Lady’s Edict, the nine-member council is currently composed of:

Rhys (N female tiefling Mnk15/Sorc10 Transcendent Order) -

Council Chairwoman and former factol of the Transcendent Order.
Rhys has been the main balancing force on the advisory council in
the years following the Faction War, able to uncannily head off
tension and most open conflict between members or groups within
the city arguing for certain actions on the part of the council. She has
been walking a fine line between her influence over the council and
her influence within the former members of the Transcendent Order.
For this matter, combined with her having been the sole surviving
factol from the Faction War, many of the council members have both respect and unease regarding her. In
meetings she often displays a calm aloofness and uncannily perfect timing to interject with points during
public hearings before the collective council. Chairwoman Rhys is, more than any other council member,
assured of re-election when the current term is over.

Cirily (CN female firre eladrin Brd1/Ftr2 Planarists) – An alarming and

polarizing choice to sit upon the council, Cirily also serves as public
spokeswoman and leader of the Planarists. This Sigil based sect would do
nothing more than exclude Prime Material natives from Sigil, and then
from the planes entirely. Her impromptu speeches nearly caused a riot on
one occasion, and would have done so far more often if not for Rhys
deftly heading her off by procedural means or simply matching her on a
matter of will before the other councilwoman stood down. It is very likely
that Cirily and Rhys will come to more than simply ideological blows against the other if Cirily is continually
blunted in her aspirations on the Council as she has been so far, with some small, but notable exceptions.

Elahassa Merem of the Order of Master Clerks and Scribes (LN

female human Exp12 Fraternity of Order) - Councilwoman Merem has
been a relatively quite and benign presence upon the council for most of
her term, swaying towards the positions of Chairwoman Rhys as well as
those of Councilwoman Cirily at times. Though she has been relatively
fickle in her votes on the council, most think she is assured of re-election,
mostly because the other members on the council feel that she is not tied
down ideologically to any one of the other members. However, she has, on a number of occasions, quarreled
with Councilman Hatchis, more for his views on the Clerk’s Ward, which in a way she exemplifies, than for his
voting record.

Estavan (LE male ogre mage Sorc5 Fraternity of Order) – Sigil’s

representative within the vast Planar Trade Consortium, his election was
something of a surprise, even to himself. He has been largely quiet on the
council, allying neither with any group nor with council member, which is
unsurprising considering his own personal ambitions stretching outside of
Sigil at the moment.

75
Gregory Holmin (LN male human Wiz6 Fraternity of Order) – The former Magistrate of the Bureau of
Commerce within the Hall of Information under the Fraternity of Order, Holmin is respected among the
business leaders of Sigil, but is also, uncharacteristically for a Guvner, something of a hothead and loose
cannon at times. He has been a relatively independent voice on the council, with no allegiances to any other
particular members except for perhaps Ustisha Cambris, and occasionally Estavan.

Harys Hatchis (NG male human Wiz8 Free League) – Another

unusual pick for the council, Hatchis has been a popular choice,
especially among the smaller property owners and businesses of
Sigil. Second only to Jeena Ealy in popularity as a standard council
member, he has used his position to advocate a number of reductions
on the legislative red tape within the Clerk’s Ward, as well as many of
the restrictions placed upon merchants within the Market Ward during
the pre-Faction War period. He has also been openly uneasy about
the public positions of Councilwoman Cirily.

Jeena Ealy (CG female human Ftr9 Society of Sensation) – The elderly councilwoman has more popular
support than any but Chairwoman Rhys, and for good reason. For decades now, since her adventuring career
with her late husband left her rich and drunk upon the sensations of the planes, Jeena has lived in the Clerk’s
Ward as a philanthropist and author. Her greatest work, Of Darkest Sigil, exposed to many the truly inhuman
conditions within the Hive, and the need to do something about them as a matter of conscience. Her influence
in aiding Sigil’s less privileged has been marked since her election. Due to age, it is uncertain if she will
pursue a second term after her first ends in a year’s time. She has been adamantly against the positions
advocated by Councilwoman Cirily, and has voted time and time again for every piece of legislation put
forward by Council Chairwoman Rhys.

Ustisha Cambris of the Builders’ Fellowship (NG male human Ftr3

Fated) – Ustisha has the support of many of the guilds, and along with
councilwoman Merem, is responsible for all of the established guilds,
and most of the new guilds, falling behind the council in public support.
He has been deftly wielding his current position on the council to lower
the city tariffs levied against the importation of building materials within
Sigil, and has fallen into agreement heavily with Councilman Estavan
on this matter.

Utadas Tensar (LG male human Clr10 Fraternity of Order) – Considered one of the most honest men in
Sigil, he has for years run the most respected and sought after employment service in all of Sigil from his
office within the Clerk’s Ward. His honesty and propensity for finding equally honest and skilled labor has
given him a good name within the business community and thus a spot upon the council. He has however,
indicated that he is likely to step down after his current term.

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 The City Guard

The Sigil City Guard is a relatively new organization that in many ways has yet to mature. Until they reach
that point, they cannot hope to equal the level of service to the city that was provided by the combined forces
of the Mercykillers and the Harmonium in the days of the factions.

While official and sponsored by the Sigil Advisory Council, more often than not the Guard find themselves
outmatched by the semi-official Minder’s Guild and the unofficial but tolerated Sons of Mercy. The latter two
groups have a habit of apprehending lawbreakers and turning them in to the City Guard for incarceration and
trial before the actual City Guard have managed to catch the particular lawbreakers themselves.

At current, the City Guard has numbers approaching around three hundred, roughly the same as a medium-
sized guild. However, the guards are paid for their loyalty, and are little more than civilized mercenaries
earning a pittance for their labors. It’s very likely that the Guard may well be a ripe target for the ideologies of
either the Sodkillers or the Sons of Mercy, and eventually may fall under some manner of control by one
group or the other.

The City Guard is currently based out of the Barracks, with eventual plans to possibly expand out to the
Prison and split their numbers between the two strongholds. Currently the Guard is lead by Watch captain
Danthis Highmoon (LN male aasimar Ftr12), who is currently trying to recruit more soldiers as well as train
those he has for the varied activities of patrolling, riot control, and prison duties.

Most citizens of the Cage have an overall favorable opinion of the Guard, though many long for the days of
the Harmonium’s order, if not their heavy-handed methods and ideology. The Guard is trusted by most
however for an even application of the law, with neither the enjoyment of force nor the starry eyed idealism
that the Sodkillers and Sons of Mercy are known for, respectively.

The Guard is still attempting to define itself though, but it appears that Chairwoman Rhys has influenced
Watch captain Highmoon considerably into an evenhanded upholding of the law, striking a functional and
ideological balance between the Sons of Mercy and the Sodkillers as best he can impress it upon his
charges. [Ever the Cipher and still listening to her Cadence. Rhys hasn’t much changed. – The Editor]

The Sons of Mercy

With the sundering of the Red Death during the Faction War, Arwyl Swanson and many of the good-aligned
members of the Mercykillers reformed the Sons of Mercy. Still small, but now officially a faction as they once
were before the Great Upheaval, the Sons of Mercy with their white regalia and symbols have become
something of a common sight in parts of Sigil.

Within the Lady’s Ward and spreading outwards from there, the Sons of Mercy have gained the reputation as
proud and honest bashers, but at times ineffective and naively idealistic. The latter, and widespread,
impression has led to a number of public plays and common jokes to which they are the punch line. The Sons
for their own part do their best to ignore this and continue on their genuinely noble task, even if as yet their
activity can at best be termed unsanctioned and at worst vigilantism.

The group works as an unofficial adjunct to the City Guard, and they seek most likely to ensconce themselves
in the Prison as the wardens and caretakers of Sigil’s criminals. They feel that any job they do would be better
than allowing the Sodkillers any chance to rise to the same office. [Many former victims of the Mercykillers
would be quick to agree with them too. – The Editor]

77
 The Sodkillers

During the disintegration of the Mercykillers during the waning hours of the Faction War, the Sodkillers split
with the Sons of Mercy, existing as perhaps a darkly pragmatic reflection of their former compatriots. Having
grown from initially a waxing sect, the Sodkillers exist now as a full-fledged faction. Since that time however,
the faction is still wary of the Lady’s Edict, and as such, the Sodkillers exist as the driving force behind the
Minder’s Guild. The guild, officially numbered among those of Sigil and recognized by the Sigil Advisory
Council, operates out of the Clerk’s Ward as a private service of thugs, mercenaries, and bodyguards for hire.
Staffed and run by the faction behind the scenes, there is little to separate the two except on paper.

They have a reputation as being ruthlessly pragmatic, rough, and at times evil. The use of force in whatever
form and methods needed to enforce order, regardless of its moral aspect, is common. That, by itself, sums
up the group’s creed nicely. The opinion of most tends to be that both the guild and the faction are honest, but
only when paid for their service, and that they tend to enjoy the use of brutality more than to most cutters’
taste. Those on the receiving end of the guild or faction’s dispensations of justice to the highest bidder are
likely to hold a much less sterling opinion.

Unlike the Sons of Mercy, the Sodkillers, fronted by a legitimate guild, possess a growing fraction of official
power. The Sons of Mercy are still struggling to find official recognition of their efforts, but for the moment their
harder nosed and more ruthless former compatriots hold the upper edge.

Nijul P’iuy (LN female aasimar Rng10/Justiciar5) is the current factol of the Sodkillers, surrounded by a small
group of ex-Mercykillers who comprised Alisohn Nilesia’s personal guard. Under her leadership, and based
out of the Tower of the Wyrm, adjacent to the Prison, the faction has grown rapidly to its current status. The
formation of the Minder’s Guild has been her greatest triumph in her short time as factol, and she is unlikely
to relinquish this current advantage over the Sons of Mercy, attempting instead to further use the guild to
leverage the faction into the halls of power within Sigil. [Again, the line between faction and guild runs razor
sharp, and so does the shadow of Her Serenity. The faction treads upon dangerous ground. – The Editor]

The Daughters of Light

The Daughters of Light is a small sect of paranoid bashers based inside a former butcher’s shop in the
Clerk’s Ward, upon Sandstone Row called The Filleted Fiend [And are we surprised that based solely on its
name the butcher’s shop was set on fire no less than three times before the owner called it a loss and left
town? – The Editor]

Following the Lady’s Edict, the sect seemed to bubble up out of nowhere, though in truth they have existed
for some long years, serving to hinder the activity of the former Revolutionary League. But with the ending of
faction power in Sigil they rose up, their purpose renewed and expanded, and claimed official backing,
perhaps even by Her Serenity as they began to ruthlessly hunt down lingering faction activity within the Cage.
The group seems to view everything around them through a lens of grand conspiracy by the factions. The
tiefling on the corner hawking pickled eggs might be a former Athar member seeking to spread his creed of
disbelief by writing messages upon the eggshells of his product for sale. Stranger claims by the Daughters of
Light have been proclaimed publicly.

And in fact, the group may itself have been initially a front by the Anarchists themselves. But regardless of
their past, the sect now seems to be seeing its ranks thin as the factions have either officially disbanded or
moved out of Sigil entirely. This lessening of their presence and activity within Sigil has been seemingly
abrupt of late. [One does not claim the backing of Her Serenity in vain... - The Editor] But, if you would
suspect that they’ve all been mazed, or otherwise removed from the picture, you’d likely be wrong for, as the
kreigstanz has changed, so too it seems have the Daughters of Light. Certain chant has the group simply
shifting its focus out of Sigil, and out onto the planes to follow the factions.

78
It may be convenient to claim the Daughters of Light as suddenly gaining a hard and capable edge, and, like
the Anarchists, attempting to infiltrate and negatively influence the factions, spread out onto the planes as
many of them are. Certainly the infighting among the former Anarchists, coupled with the increasing friction
between the Order of the Planes Militant and the Guardians and Sons of Mercy might indeed be an attractive
target for influence from The Daughters. Or it might simply be more conspiratorial talk as barmy as anything
the Daughters ever produced themselves.

[Be that as it may, the Daughters had and may still retain financial backing, and tentative, but unspoken
support from both certain members of Sigil’s elite, and from other groups outside of Sigil with something to
gain themselves from a lessening of faction influence, even the unofficial influence they might have had
following the Lady’s edict. The who of this remains speculation at present, even on my part. – The Editor]

Guilds of Sigil

Builders Fellowship – Currently the largest of the original, pre-Upheaval guilds of Sigil, the Builders
Fellowship has well over three hundred members including skilled masons, carpenters, stonecutters, and
roofers. The reason for the guild’s existence even through the centuries of faction dominance within Sigil is
simple: the guild provided something the factions needed and something that would have been too costly, or
awkward, to provide for themselves by the labors of their own members.

The guildhall of the Builders Fellowship is a large, ornate, black and white checkered stone kip with a copper
plated roof that shines like new. In line with their trades, not a dent in the shingles or a chip in the stone is
tolerated by the guild’s members and the burden of centuries is simply nonexistent upon the structure. The
building resides several blocks from the Great Gymnasium, spikeward from Dancers Court.

The current guild master is Ustisha Cambris, who has governed the guild for close to seven years. Cambris
seems unlikely to face stiff competition from any up and coming members since he performs his job admirably
and has acquired a number of hefty and profitable building contracts for the guild. Of those is the
reconstruction of the Armory, remodeling of the Hall of Speakers to remove some of the old faction
iconography, and the proposed demolition of the Shattered Temple to make way for a grand sanctuary to
Pluto in the Lower Ward. [If the construction ever takes place that is. The Athar will not go quietly in this
battle. – The Editor]

Three bright copper bands worn on their left wrist can identify members, and monthly dues of 3 gold pieces
go to pay for the upkeep of the guildhall, as well as paying for small pensions for long time and elderly
members as well as those injured in accidents while working on a given contract.

Craftsmens Guild - After the disintegration of both the Sign of One

and the Believers of the Source, the subsequent merging of the two
factions into the Mind’s Eye, absorbed many of the former members of
both factions. However, the newly formed faction left behind many of
the namers of both groups. When the Great Foundry ceased its
smelting, forging, and production of metalwork, many of the former
craftsmen of the Lower Ward found themselves without the organizing
power and benefits of a faction that the Godsmen had previously
provided to many of them. After all, what good is a philosophy when
you scrape each and every day mending pots and pans to earn your
coppers and a few silvers at best? Thus was formed the Craftsmens
Guild.

79
The Craftsmens Guild was organized perhaps a year after the end of the Faction War and has served as a
melting pot for the various talented craftsmen of the Lower Ward. It has given them an organization and
rallying point with which to advertise their services, and a place to learn from more talented members to
better their skills in their own and other areas.

Perhaps even more so, the guild has been able, by collecting dues of 2 silver pieces per month from
members, to provide a small number of pensions to older members, or to surviving relatives of members who
meet an early death by accident or foul means. By pooling the buying power of its members, the guild has
secured lower prices on certain bulk raw materials such as metals and tools from the bladelings now running
the great foundry, and other raw goods imported into Sigil. Advertising deals with Harys Hatchis of the Clerk’s
Ward have managed to increase their sales of indigenous products within both the Great Bazaar and Market
Ward as a whole as well.

The guild symbol, usually worn as a patch, is a ring of tools containing a hammer, awl, drill, and others
surrounding an open hand. Most members wear the symbol prominently so as to display it to customers who,
upon recognizing it, are more likely to treat the guild’s members as competent at the least, and more often
than not highly skilled at their chosen craft.

The current guild master, and the one most responsible for the rapid growth and success of the guild, is
Garrison Ironshanks (NG male gnome Clr6 of Flandal Steelskin), a former member of the Believers of the
Source. Under his guidance, the guild is likely to expand more in the coming years and make it into one of the
most influential guilds in Sigil.

Council of Innkeepers – The Council of Innkeepers holds as members the operators and owners of most of
the inns and many of the alehouses within Sigil, with the notable exception of a select few. [For whatever
convenient reason, the Bottle and Jug and the Styx Oarsman were left off their list of potential members. –
The Editor]

The council headquarters is housed on the top floor of the expensive and selective alehouse, the Pixie
Drake’s Flagon, several blocks downwards from the Great Gymnasium. Headed by guild master Bryn Ohme
(LG male bariaur Ftr2), guild members are identified
by a crimson waist sash edged with golden lace, and
for a fee of 10 gold pieces monthly gather to meet and
discuss orders of mutual business. Such business
tends to be confined to ordering ale and other spirits in
bulk for the guild members’ use in their own taprooms,
as well as ways to keep wages for workers low and
standardized.

Daylaborers Guild – Much to the initial chagrin of

many within the Workers District of the Clerk’s Ward
and many within the slums of the Hive, the
Daylaborers Guild was set up within months after the
end of the Faction War. With branch offices in the
Marble District of the Hive, and at the outskirts of the
Workers District in the Clerk’s Ward, the guild
promised an honest day’s labor to those with any
physical ability at all and the desire to work for a few
coins at whatever task the guild might set them upon.
For many, this spoke of some opportunistic
carpetbagger from The Lady’s Ward trying to make
good coin off the backs of the desperate sods of the
Hive. And who’s to say it’s not?

80
The guild is more or less an employment agency for the unskilled labor of Sigil. Those it employs are now in
greater demand than ever by private citizens and businesses to clean the streets, trim the razorvine, and
remove the rubble of falling buildings in a number of wards as the city has slowly removed itself from the
ashes of the Faction War and the events of recent years. The guild is headed by Borkman Highshadow (LN
male stone giant Ftr 2 Merkhant), whose last name very much belies his method of keeping control of the
uneducated sods he employs on a daily basis: out and out intimidation by his sheer size and presence, even
if he does nothing threatening to back it up.

Those wishing to gain employment simply queue at the gates of the two guild offices and gather a number. If
that number is called, they simply come forward and say yes or no to the offer. If they say yes, they’re sent off
to whatever task the guild has found for them and work for their coin. Repeat workers are given the chance to
become full members of the guild. A full member has more choice in what activities they is assigned, the
hours they works, and tends to garner a slightly higher wage based simply on their reliability. Repeat workers
are less likely to be unavailable for a job because they’re passed out in the street from spending the previous
days work on cheap bub.

The guild charges its members no dues, but it does collect a healthy amount of fees from employers for the
use of its chattel on a daily basis, and a portion of the coin paid to a worker is skimmed off the top to the
guild’s coffers. As such, the guild has soaked up a shockingly high amount of jink in the past two years as its
workers labor both in and out of Sigil. In the future, with the ongoing decrease in dabus activity in the Cage,
the availability of work is unlikely to decrease.

As for the charges of opportunistic carpetbagging, it is rumored that the guild is financed and run by none
other than Zadara the Titan. The endeavor allows her to line her pockets with even more jink, and gain a
toehold into the labor market in two different wards through her puppet guild master Borkman who is also a
fellow member of the Merkhant sect.

Entertainers Guild & Civic Festhall – As with the Undertakers Guild, the Entertainers Guild has changed in
little more than name from the former faction whose members swell its current ranks. More than nine of every
ten members of the guild count themselves as Sensates. Currently, the guild is headed by Annali Webspinner
(CN female bariaur Ftr7 Society of Sensation), a Sensate herself, and still in a nearly identical position as she
held within the faction.

The guild operates directly out of the former Sensate faction headquarters, the Civic Festhall within the
Clerk’s Ward. Some have openly questioned the wisdom of having the guild cooperate so closely with its
former skein as the Sensate faction, fearing that the official

nature of the guild will run afoul of the Lady’s Edict. Guild members have pointed to the Dustmen and their
similarly close association of the Undertakers Guild, however, and that nothing dire has come of such
associations. [Pushing boundaries; something a true Sensate could always be counted on to do. But continue
and one might find a sensate wise to wonder to himself, ‘I wonder what mazing feels like...’– The Editor]

The guild symbol is an abstract pattern resembling the exterior of the Civic Festhall, though some members
also have symbols that denote their specific trade such as music, dance, art, and theatre. Each member pays
the guild a fee of 1 gold piece per month in dues, though they typically see a vast return on their investment
as a guild member since their guild is the single most popular in all of Sigil, assuring them of a constant
stream of customers for their talents.

Since the chaos of the Faction War, the Sensate faction has reformed, but moved out of Sigil to the Gilded
Hall upon Arborea. Annali herself is not factol, but a high-ranking member within the faction, and more or less
their representative within Sigil as guildmistress of the Entertainer’s Guild.

81
Escorts and Touts Guild – The upstart Escorts and Touts Guild has formed in the past two years from the
combination of the pre-existing Escorts Guild and the group of independent touts headed by Kylie the Tout (N
female tiefling Rog8 Free League). By pooling their resources, the groups have been able to form a sizable
guild in a relatively short amount of time. Since Kylie’s election as guild mistress the group has seen fewer
and fewer attempts to bob or otherwise harm their members while taking customers through some of the
more crime ridden sections of Sigil. Many chalk this up to Kylie’s citywide popularity, as well as rumors that
she may run for a position on the Sigil Advisory Council in the next elections. [That same popularity got her a
guild in the first place. But there’s more to any story than surface appearances. She has benefactors
unknown even to herself. – The Editor]

The guildhall sits on the end of Turtle Lane, just spikeward of the Great Gymnasium, a two-story kip of simple
white stone and a vaguely blue slate roof skirted across with razorvine. Members are identified by a mark of
three concentric blue circles tattooed on forehead or painted daily. Most prefer for a permanent mark since
Kylie’s election as guild mistress. Kylie herself has the guild symbol tattooed atop her own symbol of the Free
League’s abstract self-devouring dragon.

Currently, members are responsible for a 2 silver pieces monthly due to the guild, that pays for training
members, to pay off gangs in certain areas of the city to let them and their clients pass unharmed, and other
such payoffs.

Guild of Doorsnoops – Formed shortly after the disintegration of the factions by the prime mage and
Anarchist Lissandra the Gateseeker (NG female human Wiz 11). Already well versed in many of the portals of
Sigil, she and her associates became invaluable in the months after the Tempest of Doors. During that period,
they spent their time discovering the fates of older portals, and the locations, destinations, and keys for
innumerable new portals. With the factions no longer present to bar the public sale of portal logs (as was
common practice when they gave themselves a monopoly on the knowledge of most any but the commonly
known and widely used portals) there is a rising business in the trade of knowledge and upkeep of that
knowledge regarding the portals of the Cage. As this business waxes, Lissandra and her colleagues are
riding its coattails more so than any other.

The guild symbol is a ring or broach detailed with a silver doorway, usually with a swirling pattern inside it.
Members pay a fee of 5 silver pieces monthly, and in return are given access to portal keys at cost, or for free
when investigating the details of portals on
guild sponsored business.

The current guild headquarters is situated

within the former tavern known as the
Ubiquitous Wayfarer, formerly the site of a
number of extremely popular and well-
trafficked portals. Shortly after the Tempest
of Doors, most of its portals ceased
functioning and its business plummeted.
Despite its attempt to prosper in the face of
the loss of its main draw, and in the process
renaming itself Portal Schmortal, it went
bankrupt and was eventually sold to
Lissandra herself. A certain irony perhaps,
but the site has served the guild well in their
short stay within their new home, though
Lissandra herself is usually off on some
foray, despite being the group’s guild
mistress.

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Guild of Teamsters and Lightboys – This rather eclectic guild has formed in recent years with the
organization of the teams of staff-wielding lightboys common to many of Sigil’s wards. Too small to form a
true guild of their own, the lightboys approached the already extant Guild of Teamsters who they often found
themselves working with. At present, the joining of their groups has benefited both to a degree, the lightboys
having an organization to call home as well as having protection in the numbers of a larger guild. The
Teamsters on the other hand have more jink flowing into their coffers monthly as well as lower to no charges
for the lightboys’ labor during nighttime tasks.

The guild headquarters is located on the second floor of a tenement at the edge of Tea Street in the Clerk’s
Ward, near to Tea Street Transit where many of the group’s members have found frequent employment.
Members are identified by a leather epaulet on the right shoulder, with a small length of rope descending from
the epaulet and looping under the right arm. In addition, the lightboys have a small yellow glass bubble
attached to or braided into the rope on their guild symbol.

For a monthly due of 3 silver pieces, members are afforded the benefits of the guild which include frequent
work on the contracts for guiding and keeping the animals which draw barges of cargo along the Ditch to
many of the portals to the gate-towns upon the Outlands. For most members, the steady work is all they need
and require from the guild. Under the current guild master, a frugal basher by the name of Duritz Crow (CN
Male Human, Exp 2 / Fighter 1), they are unlikely to garner much more than that.

Lawyers Guild – The Sigil Lawyers Guild, or Brotherhood of Advocates as it is sometimes known, is
headquartered in their tall, marble faced demesne two blocks from the City Courts. It sits just at the edge of
the sprawl of wandering advocates peddling their services, the cues of those awaiting the commencement of
trials, and the inns and alehouses who cater to the crowds of onlookers, accused, and lawmen alike.

Members pay dues of 3 gold pieces on a monthly basis, and in turn the guild defends members against
grievances upon failure of cases, or successful cases as the varying parties react to a given verdict. The guild
also has standardized the fees that an advocate may charge for his services dependant upon his experience
before the courts, and seniority within the guild itself. The guild symbol is a silver signet ring baring the
stylized portico of the City Courts engraved in copper.

The former Guvner Yohannis Granniger (LG male aasimar Wiz7) was elected guild master, though the
process took a good bit of time as the potential members spent nearly a year in various committees and
subcommittees, debating every small part of the guild charter. Chant seems to be brewing that, as odd as it
might seem, once Granniger’s term is completed in the next two years, the Xaositect Sly Nye might throw in
his own bid for guild master.

Certainly a number of hearts raced and heads throbbed when the chaos-touched tiefling applied for
membership. But finding no reason to disallow him into the guild, he joined and has been a productive and
charismatic member. His methods aside, Nye is extremely capable and his record of winning cases before
the City Courts, both before and after the Faction War, is indeed impressive. [Whether he does run and wins,
then laughs and steps down on principle is another matter. – The Editor]

Minders Guild – The Minders Guild is known for its rough and cutthroat pursuit of law and order, always to
the highest bidder. Ruthlessly pragmatic in their approach to keeping the peace, they offer the services of
their members as bodyguards, bouncers, community patrols and guardsmen for merchants, shopkeepers,
and rich bloods throughout the Cage.

In reality, they exist as little more than a public and official front for the Sodkillers, who make up the majority of
the members of the guild itself. The guild operates out of the Clerk’s Ward and the Lady’s Ward, with two
separate offices on Pride Street and Lords Row respectively. It’s no small secret that the guild high ups may
actually meet back within the Tower of the Wyrm to discuss most guild business. The current guild master, as
much as the term makes much sense in light of the thin line between guild and faction, is Nagaro (LE female
human xPal7/Ftr7), a known high up within the Sodkillers.

83
Under Nagaro’s tutelage, guild members pay a due of 5 silver pieces a month, and in return receive training in
the various ways to deliver justice, or most commonly how to simply pummel a sod into submission or appear
threatening enough to avoid a fight. Members commonly wear a standardized gray uniform with a rust red fist
emblazoned upon one shirtsleeve, and a rust red sword emblazoned upon the other. [All they need to do it
seems is to add a green Wyrm symbol and we can be done with them when they’re mazed. – The Editor]

Sanitation Guild – Faced with the apparent thinning of the ranks of the dabus, who removed the daily waste
that accumulated in the streets and gutters of Sigil, the Sanitation guild was formed to handle the problem.
The guild was started by a group of bloods from the Worker’s District within the Clerk’s Ward, and financed by
a number of unnamed cutters from the Lady’s Ward. While it cannot be proven, those unnamed financiers are
widely thought to include Jeremo the Natterer, Jeena Ealy, and perhaps one other well-meaning cutter.

The guild, based within a two story kip along Newt Street in the Clerk’s Ward, employs a wide range of
workers to haul off the trash and filth that accumulates in the streets and trash heaps of the city. The trash is
disposed of through a number of portals to the Elemental Plane of Fire, the Quasielemental Plane of Vacuum,
and the Paraelemental Plane of Ooze. Other times, if the distance is not too far, the trash is simply dumped
into the Ditch between the Lower Ward and the Hive where the periodic rush of water from a portal to the river
Oceanus flushes the channel clean.

Guild members pay no fee, but abide by the guild rules and statutes, and their area of work and daily tasks
are more or less set for them by the demands of the businesses, individuals, and neighborhoods within Sigil
that have signed contracts with the guild to pay them for the services of their members. Based upon the
money gained by these contracts, each guild member is paid a weekly wage. Each member however wears,
and is identified by a small copper shovel worn upon a chain around their necks or upon a belt.

Under the guidance of guildmaster Erasmus Coalbrush (NG male dwarf Ftr3), the guild has thus far faced
little competition in their work from the Daylaborers Guild, and the two guilds have studiously avoided
impinging upon the others typical means of business. Meanwhile rumors are high that the Sigil Advisory
Council may take up legislation to levy a citywide tax upon property owners to pay for the services of the guild
on a Cage-wide basis.

Order of Master Clerks and Scribes – Located in their longstanding guildhall on Dancer’s Court in the
Clerk’s Ward, the Order of Master Clerks and Scribes has existed before, during, and now after the rise and
fall of the factions. For many years, the guild trained and supplied clerks and scriveners to the Hall of
Information, the City Courts, and the Hall of Records. With all of the factions grabbing for power, the guild
provided a needed commodity and stayed neutral
in faction politics. With that combination of need
and proper political stance, it prospered.

The guild is currently run by Elahassa Merem (LN

female human Exp 12 Fraternity of Order), and for
a fee of 1 gold piece per month provides steady
employment, insured wage scales, and fair
treatment by employers for its members. The
symbol of guild members is to have the fingernail of
their right-hand pinky painted silver.

Even with the guilds gaining in importance within

Sigil of late, the Order of Master Clerks and Scribes
is unlikely to grow or shrink. After all, it has endured
the years since the Great Upheaval with little
variation for good or ill, and there seems little
reason to have such happen now.

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Runners and Messengers Guild – Mostly unchanged in its structure and hierarchy from before the Faction
War, except for the small bit of becoming an official guild, the runners and messengers guild operates out of
the Palace of the Jester in The Lady’s Ward. The guildmaster is a bitter but driven blood by the name of
Autochon the Bellringer (NE male human Ftr12 Free League), a tyrant of his own petty kingdom that he built
upon his own labors, and his own sacrifices. Autochon’s own rise in power is detailed later herein.

The guild itself charges but a pittance of a single copper each month from each of its runners and
messengers, while providing them with protection and other services that it seemingly pays no one to provide.
However, each of the runners, in line with their time spent in service to the guild, pays an increasingly high
fraction of their garnered wages to the guild, though the amount is never unreasonable considering the
benefits they gain in return. Few members give a passing thought of leaving the guild, given its now official
status within Sigil, and the unspoken reputation of its guild master.

The Bellringer’s originally harsh and driven methods towards his charges has become even worse, and it is
likely he holds his position as much from fear by the guild members as to his supreme prowess in protecting
them and garnering them ever better pay and benefits for membership.

Undertakers/Ragpickers/Funerary Guild – Most commonly, and officially, called the Funerary Guild, it is
located in the Grey District of the Hive, composed primarily of Dustmen who have, as yet, found no reason to
not simply continue their same daily tasks as before the Faction War. In association with this dour lot are the
gangs of ragpickers and dead collectors whose carts still ply the Hive, and, in more refined form, gather the
dead from the other wards of the city. Usually this task of body collection only occurs for victims of calamity,
random violence, and when no relatives or associates immediately claim the corpse for disposal or
resurrection.

Most of the members of the guild are the lower and mid-ranked of the Dustmen hierarchy. Most of the
faction’s high-ranking members have gone on to other pursuits, left for parts unknown in Sigil or elsewhere, or
in the case of Skall, were mazed. Rumors abound that the guild may be keen upon leaving the Mortuary and
Grey District altogether, and have been canvassing other suitable locations within Sigil for the proper number
of portals for their use. The former Hall of Speakers has been mentioned, but with its purchase by a group of
buyers including the indomitable Harys Hatchis, this seems more and more unlikely.

Most recent chant about the guild has actually hinted that the Dead have in many ways reorganized as a
faction, with a much looser hierarchy than before, but have avoided taking up any official role in Sigil’s
government or politics. No harm has seemingly come of this, and word is that Oridi Malefin (N female tiefling
Clr18 of Death) has returned to both guild and faction, apart from her duties at the planned Temple of Hades
within the Lower Ward’s Shattered Temple District. [Much more interesting though, are the whispers and
rumors of the guild having seen or heard faint images and phantasms of Skall within the Mortuary. For a
mazed deader, he certainly gets around. Unless of course, all is screed or an imposter is afoot. – The Editor]

The Planewalkers Guild – Irony is in no small supply since the end of the Faction War. Perhaps no greater
example exists than the reemergence of the Planewalkers Guild within Sigil.

The guild first originated in Sigil over nine centuries ago, and at its height it held over three thousand
members under it aegis. But, as with all the guilds after the Great Upheaval, the factions growing power
within Sigil caused them to diminish in their influence. Even though it predated many of the then-ruling
factions, the Planewalkers Guild saw itself threatened by remaining in Sigil; so the organization simply left to
reestablish itself elsewhere.

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The guild has existed as a thriving, but ever moving, organization upon the Infinite Staircase since its
departure from the City of Doors. But now, with the factions gone, it has seen fit to abandon what was never
really seen as a permanent home, given the ever-changing nature of the Staircase. The guild has now
returned to Sigil and set up their headquarters within what some graybeards claim was once their original
guildhall within the Market Ward.

With the group returning to Sigil, however, they do so without their former guild master and his kyrie consort,
the Krynnish Minotaur Hav’run Thain and Vagis. Without their former leaders, the guild has since elected
Balthasar Thames (CG male human Wiz13) as guild master.

The guild’s symbol is that of a golden doorway over a silver staircase, at the base of which lies a blue enamel
river and brown enamel tree roots. The symbol is often embroidered upon a sash or worn upon a belt, amulet,
ring, or most commonly a broach. The guild charges a monthly fee of 6 silver pieces which it uses to
commission the exploration and mapping of certain planar locations, as well as to supply these maps and all
relevant information to members at a nominal fee, or typically no further cost. The guild has also managed to
strike deals with various merchants in the Cage to offer a discount on certain supplies useful to a planewalker
such as spell components, weapons, mundane travelers goods, and certain magical items.

People of Importance

Outside of Her Serenity, the Lady of Pain, all others pale in comparison. But others hold power and influence
within Sigil nonetheless. Some of these figures hold more influence than others, and some wield their power
within public scrutiny, while others do so out of the public eye, the so-called knights of the post. Rather than
hold elected or appointed office, these figures pull strings from the shadowed underside of society in the City
of Doors in a dangerous, but ultimately profitable game. To steer events within Sigil is to guide events across
the multiverse, and so a small pull of a metaphorical string could have vast consequences. It is precisely this
reason why the politics of Sigil now more than ever, with weakening of the factions’ kreigstanz within Sigil, are
a hotly contested, and oftentimes dangerous game to play.

Here are listed and detailed a number of those cutters who rose above the ashes of the factions to take
places of power, both official and not, within the City of Doors, for reasons and motivations both benevolent
and dire.

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Arwyl Swan’s Son (LG male human Pal17 Sons of Mercy) – “Unity-Of-Rings has it right when he says that
he serves Justice above all else, and to perform good, justice is what you must first provide. I feel much the
same.

“Justice led me to the Red Death, and my search for justice made me dissolve the faction as well to stave off
the internal rot of evil it had filled with over the years. My justice is not unduly harsh, but fitting for both
criminal and victim, tailored for the good of society. I seek justice to promote good, not simply to enforce a
harsh, dispassionate order. If that is what you seek, then with pity I would direct you to the Sodkillers. ” – Arwyl
Swan’s Son

What can be said of Arwyl Swan’s Son aside from the fact the he has become the poster child of the clueless
prime, as well as a symbol of a well-meaning but hopelessly idealistic paladin? [He is idealistic, but he is NOT
inept, make no mistake. – The Editor] As leader of the Sons of Mercy, the good-aligned splinter group of the
Mercykillers, Arwyl has struggled to bring his vision of true justice to the people of Sigil. Unfortunately, his
paladins are few in number and hopelessly outmatched by their more pragmatic, and ruthless, former allies
the Sodkillers.

Arwyl has been through much in his life, and he will likely persevere through his current troubles. In fact, he
first came to join the Mercykillers when, as a young paladin from the Prime world of Toril, he chased a
succubus from his world onto the Outlands. He killed his target, but nearly died in the process himself, only
managing to survive his wounds by the aid of a Justiciar of the Mercykillers. Impressed by the stranger’s help,
and the tales he told of his own bringing of justice to the multiverse, the young and zealous Arwyl traveled to
Sigil and joined the faction as well.

His years within the Red Death tempered his zeal but also exposed him to that faction’s use of ruthlessness
and somewhat evil practices in their search for justice. His own nature rebelled against this, and despite his
own attempts to swell the ranks of the Mercykillers with like- minded lawful good paladins to reform the group
from within, he was only marginally successful before the faction was split in twain following the
disappearance of Factol Alisohn Nilesia.

Since the Faction War, Arwyl and his band of white-armored paladins have taken to patrolling the city, and
Arwyl himself can be seen partaking in their daily work, not one to use rank to avoid the same duties he gives
out to his charges. His passion, and more so, his compassion has endeared him and his group with many
Cagers, and once the group grows to handle the tasks they seek to do, it is likely they will lose their
reputation as bumbling do-gooders that playwrights and bubbers have labeled them with.

Autochon the Bellringer (NE male human Ftr12 Free

League): “I don’t care that the message needs to be
delivered twenty minutes from now on the other side of
the Hive. You can run the long way around the sodding
Cage if you have to. Do you see me complain about
sitting here in this armor, day and night, in hot and cold,
when all you have to do is dodge past those hill giants
in the edge of the Hive? No.

“Now move, you’ve only got seventeen minutes left to

get there. Do I make myself clear?” – Autochon the
Bellringer

The guild master of the Runners and Messengers Guild

is a bitter, but driven, blood who strikes as much a sight

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as he does a sound. Formerly the owner, organizer, and taskmaster of Sigil’s largest, most profitable, and
trusted messenger service, his ambition is rumored to have gotten the best of him when he struck a deal for
the protection of his charges with the Temple of the Abyss. Somehow the deal went sour and between a
number of assassination attempts upon his life, and his claim of hearing the constant maddening peal of the
Bells of Baphomet from the towers of the temple, he neared the brink of insanity before appealing to the
blood who had urged him to make his demon’s deal in the first place: Shemeska the Marauder. The details of
the deal are unknown, but likely harsh, and it’s widely assumed that the Bellringer owes her his life, and likely
much more. In the end, the attacks ceased, and the peal of the bells dulled to a far off chime, but he was
forced to wear at all times a suit of full plate armor of metal from the Grey Waste, magically formed to silence
the curse set upon him by Noshtoreth of the Umber Scales. The armor, whenever Autochon moves, gives a
faint tinkling or chiming noise as if from the ringing of a dozen tiny bells; hence his name.

The poor wretch’s back is now bent from the constant weight of the armor, and he dares not shed the metal
despite the weight, heat, and discomfort for fear of the curse hanging over him like some dangling saber.
Despite his circumstances and debt to the King of the Crosstrade (or perhaps because of it), his business has
since grown in size and now constitutes an actual guild. [Autochon is but a twisted shell of a man, tamed and
broken by his mistress Shemeska. I feel nothing but abject pity for him, but he is neither the first, nor the last
she will bring low. – The Editor]

Cirily [CN female firre eladrin Brd1/Ftr2 Planarists] – “I will not hide behind painted words or padded
notions that the primes who flock to Sigil are anything else than what I know them to be by all the evidence
yet seen. The trickle now threatens to inundate, and surely one can always smell a wagonload of dung and
filth from the smell and the few flies that precede it.

“I will not hold my tongue, despite the threats to my person on a daily basis, nor will my allies and fellow-
minded planars. Our growing following is only evidenced by my position upon the Sigil Advisory Council. We
know the truth, and for the good of the planes, we shall state it clearly. If a prime seeks to travel to the Outer
Planes, then let him die and flock here naturally and not before come to where he was never meant to be.” –
Cirily of the Planarists

Public mouthpiece, and some would say philosophical leader, of the newly risen sect known as the Planarists.
Cirily, as a firre eladrin, appears as an elf or more so half-elf, with smooth, milky-white skin dotted with
freckles in some places that at the right angle or correct light shimmer with a ruddy complexion. Her eyes are
two featureless, glowing, crimson orbs within their sockets and her hair is a brilliant red that seems to waver
and crackle on its own like a living flame. Sometimes her hair does burn as if afire, particularly when the
arrogant and self- assured Cirily becomes incensed with those arguing against her positions on primes, or
when a prime in her presence fails to give her the proper level of respect she feels she deserves as both a
planar native and mouthpiece of the waxing Planarists.

The Planarists philosophy could be summed up as the following: The planes should be for planars. Prime
Material clueless have no place outside their own plane and have despoiled the City of Doors for too long,
spreading stupidity wherever they go. They utilize resources and space that could be given to a planar
resident of the city, or indeed, to whichever plane a given prime defiles by their presence. Cirily can often be
found preaching her thinly veiled philosophy of planar superiority and anti-prime hatred in the Hall of
Speakers or at the Trianym, never failing to attract a crowd. While an incredibly passionate, gifted, and
charismatic speaker, some of her enemies have suggested her guilty of actually attempting to magically
charm her crowds to incite them even further into believing her creed. Fellow eladrin have been rather loathe
to discuss her in particular, and a few fiends have chuckled and mused over the fact that she may already
have fallen from her natural alignment and inclination to chaotic good, and may be setting herself up for a true
and total fall to chaotic evil.

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In the wake of the Faction War, subsequent public investigations found the
details of Duke Rowan Darkwood’s personal involvement in setting the
factions at each others’ throats. Cirily jumped upon Darkwood’s status as a
Prime Material native, despite his long years in fiendish slavery on the
Lower Planes, his decades of life in Ysgard, and his tumultuous time within
Sigil itself. She posited him as the prototypical example of prime excess and
the dangers of allowing more than a token population of primes within Sigil
at all. All the more need to segway them off to their own ghetto within the
Lower Ward or the Hive.

At present, Cirily finds herself elected to the Sigil Advisory Council, a dream
come true for her as it stands. Many are unhappy with her new power but
her followers are likely to see that she keeps her position for the present at
least, and it would appear that she has backing behind the scenes as well
by those with a keen interest either on her beliefs or keeping others off the
council.

Estavan (LE male ogre mage Sor5 Fraternity of Order) – “In all my long years here in Sigil, so much has
changed, and recently with the Tempest of Doors that change has seen to spite me. My own power has
eroded in the Cage, while that of the Planar Trade Consortium only rises outside of it. If Her Serenity has
seen to make Sigil less attractive to merchants and traders, then so be it, I will simply find alternate routes,
and the competition be damned.” – Estavan of the Planar Trade Consortium

Estavan, like his fellow Golden Lord, Zadara the Titan, is rarely seen traveling the streets of Sigil. As Sigil’s
representative within the vast Planar Trading Consortium, the blue-skinned ogre mage maintains a number of
offices across the city, usually inhabiting his personal office on the second story of a building in the Clerk’s
Ward, within view of the ruins of the Hall of Records. [It’s quite possible, given the rare occasions he is seen
outside one of his offices, that each office contains a portal leading to another of his offices, a series of
demiplanes linked to each, or likely to the Consortium’s main office within the gate-town of Tradegate. – The
Editor]

Like most others of his stature and wealth, Estavan keeps an immaculate appearance, from his rich blue and
crimson robes, to the gold decorations upon his nubs of horns and tusks. Estavan has held his position for
nearly as long as any in Sigil can remember, cowing merchants
to join his consortium, or attempting to gain a larger market
share for his imported goods from across the planes in the
Market Ward. In his endeavors he has been mostly opposed by
Zadara the Titan, who herself holds the wealth needed to render
his entreaties irrelevant, and Shemeska the Marauder who not
only rebuffed him but laughed in his face. Aside from individuals
in Sigil, the Free League, with their own holdings in the gate-
town of Tradegate and their own villages on the Outlands, has
always prevented him from full access to the Great Bazaar for
his products. They have simply never trusted him, nor his
approach to individual merchants who he uses once he has
them under his control, no longer abasing himself and treating
them as equals as he is wont to do when luring a potential client.
[In fact, Estevan has held his position for several centuries; far
longer than the average lifespan for a member of his species. I
leave conjecture up to my readers. – The Editor]

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Since the Faction War, Estavan’s situation has changed greatly. The Tempest of Doors alienated many within
the Planar Trade Consortium and he has had to change many of his long-standing trade routes away from
Sigil and out to other crossplanar pathways. His move to the Outlands for much of his shipping is likely to
provoke a trade war between himself and the Free League as time progresses. Secondly, he has found
himself oddly elected to the Sigil Advisory Council. This grasp at official power within the City of Doors has
ostensibly garnered howls of fury from Shemeska and Zadara, among others, but perhaps also by giving him
further duties in the city prevented him from fully spending his time in pursuit of his acquisition of power
outside of it. [Both Zadara and Shemeska would greatly like to ensure a presence upon the council, either as
councilors themselves, or having one or more of the current council in their pockets. The power plays to come
shall be interesting, and equally so will be Rhys’s dance to foil both of them and keep the Council free of
undue influence. – The Editor]

Fell (N dabus Clr10 Proxy of Aoskar, Will of the One) - Little is known of Fell, save that he is shunned by
the other dabus and given a wide berth by most every other cutter within the City of Doors. It is widely
assumed that he is a fallen dabus, condemned by the Lady for some transgression or slight against Her will.
Unlike the other dabus, Fell walks upon the ground, his feet clearly treading upon the earth. It is common to
have seen him trip or stumble in his walks through the Market Ward, where he keeps a small shop on
Redwind Road. His chosen vocation is the crafting of tattoos, which he forms from his own picture symbols
above his head and then somehow transfers to the skin of his clients. Some have whispered that he also
offers magical tattoos, but only to customers of his choosing.

When not in his shop, Fell frequents the back alleys of the Hive, usually seen bricking over the randomly
appearing ooze portals of the ward, perhaps to reclaim some fraction of his old life in service to Her Serenity.
He has no need of guards or protection when walking in even the Hive by himself. Not even the gangs and
barmies within that ward are willing to take the chance of being close by should the Lady’s shadow come
passing over him, which many figure is only a matter of time.

Fact is, the reason for Fell’s expulsion from the ranks of the Dabus is both valid and chilling. Since the death
of his patron power and the shattering of the Cathedral of Aoskar in the Lower Ward, Fell has remained an
outcast and pariah to his own kind and to most of Sigil. But until that day, Fell
remains a sad, silent image that even the chosen servants of Her Serenity are not
immune to Her wrath or the temptation of other forces.

While even Aoskar himself died that day, Fell yet lives. Perhaps he cannot die as a
punishment by the Lady for his betrayal of her and his own kind. Perhaps Fell was so
invested with a portion of Aoskar’s power that by some virtue of this, the Lady could
not kill him. Indeed, Fell can still cast divine spells, though he does so rarely. And
some claim that this gives rise to the idea that Aoskar may have invested Fell as his
own proxy before the power’s death, or that the Portal Father may not be entirely
dead. [And if the latter, I hold that Her Dread Majesty is not yet finished with Aoskar.
For if Aoskar is not truly dead, and were to one day rise from his astral grave, I say
he would not do so in defiance of the Lady, but at Her allowance in some vast and
unknown plan that formed at or before his death at Her hand. A convenient, if
frightening, portent. – The Editor]

Fell will not openly speak of his fall from grace, but if asked in secret he will profess
his faith in Aoskar still, unrepentant, and full of conviction. In conjunction with the Will
of the One, a radical split from the Sign of One, he may in fact be attempting to light
the spark of worship in Aoskar once more, seeking still to raise his dead patron from
the grave.

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Harys Hatchis (NG male human Wiz11 Free League) - “I’ll sell my clients’ products, and Lady’s grace, I’ll
even sell my clients if it’s personal promotion they want. Everything has a price, some things just cost more
than others, but I work as hard as most bashers for even the lowest of my fares. I’m not above rubbing a spin
onto the truth a bit, but that’ll cost you, and I won’t lie to harm your buyers if it’s a dangerous thing.

“But you’ll find no better honest purse peeler in all of Sigil. There’s no one better at convincing a berk or a
blood alike to parting with his jink with a smile on his face and your product in their hands. So what say you?
Is it a deal?” – Harys Hatchis

Harys Hatchis, pitchman extraordinaire, hawker of services, and promoter of a thousand

different products, businesses, and personages in the Cage. Born into poverty and the
true epitome of a self-made man, one might think him more akin to the philosophy of the
Fated. But not so, for he numbers himself a fellow freethinking member of the Free
League.

Harys will promote anything if he thinks there’s a future in it or a profit to be made, or

even if he simply considers the promotion of it a challenge. Flyers and posters advertising
products, and bearing his seal can be found in Sigil from streetlamps in The Lady’s Ward,
to broken walls in the Hive, to everywhere in the Market Ward. He does his job, and he
does it better than any other in the Cage.

Of late, Harys sits upon the Sigil Advisory Council, an odd thing considering the man’s
unabashed loathing of the bureaucracy of the Clerk’s Ward. From the way he tells it,
many of the problems early on in his life for him and his family stemmed from the
constricting group thinkers in that ward. Having succeeded in spite of their best efforts to
stymie him, he’s found a niche for himself in the independence-promoting freethinkers of
the Indeps. On top of that, he may have accepted the position on the Council simply to keep another off the
council, knowing some of those in the running as well. What greater revenge is there for a man who, rather
than violence, could daily show in the face of his detractors the fact that he holds some measure of power
over them in their own bureaucracy, or to have the irony of changing from within that which he has always
admonished.

As a highly placed member of the Free League, Harys has a great deal of contacts, not the least of who is
Kylie the Tout, who may herself possess political aspirations during the next election cycle. The interplay of
unofficial faction power shall grow more interesting as he delves deeper into the politics of Sigil, perhaps
warily treading the same line that Council Chairwoman Rhys herself treads.

Jeremo the Natterer (CN male human Ftr6/Rog12 Ring-Givers) – “You get back what you give to others.
Your wealth and prestige is measured only in how much of it you can pass on to those around you. And for
every action you take, in the end it returns to bless you or haunt you. In this grand ring of things and events
and actions, let’s just say I like to stack the deck in my own favor. Ingwe taught me well, and no matter what I
do and give, it all seems to come back to me ten fold.

“You look thirsty, care for a drink cutter? Consider it on me.” – Jeremo the Natterer

Rarely is an individual so incredibly mercurial, wealthier than most high priests of powers of wealth, and
popular despite the air of mystery that surrounds most of his motivations and intentions. Jeremo the Natterer
fills all of these positions with the ease of a born natural. For such a high standing individual, he has his
quirks and then some. He fashions himself as the Lady’s Jester, and indeed he makes his home and his
faction headquarters within Sigil’s enigmatic Palace of the Jester. The name may well be associated with it, or
of his own devising, but regardless, he dresses the part. Garish, often clashing clothing, always of rich cloths
and expensive materials as befitting royalty, make up the Natter’s typical attire. Atop his often-disheveled

91
 head sits a tarnished brass or bronze crown, missing jewels and usually tilted off angle, a curious artifact for
so wealthy a man. Oddly enough, some magic or item about his person allows him to converse with dabus in
their own manner of Rebus speech, something that gives him a great deference from the dabus that seem to
frequent the older portions of his Palace. However, the aspect of his personality and mannerisms that makes
clear his name is his constant yammering to those around him. Mercurial hardly describes his flighty,
whimsical demeanor at nearly all times. It’s either a brilliant act or the man lingers close to being barmy and
thrown into the cells of the Gatehouse, were it not for his power and influence.

As befitting his position within the Ring-Givers, Jeremo fashions himself as a consummate philanthropist, but
he always seems to reap more than he sews. Either something about his faction belief, or simply the work of
a conniving and shrewd mind, he makes off like a fiend in most anything he does. Despite his peculiarities,
Jeremo is highly charismatic and very much liked and respected by most. Of course, there is also the
lingering question surrounding the departure of Ingwe, the previous factol of the Ring-Givers to consider. No
small amount of chant surrounds that, but none of the more wicked aspects seem to cling to Jeremo despite
the tone they may be hurled at him in. [Public face aside, Jeremo would have been a better member of the
Fated than of the Ring-Givers, despite his rise to factol of the latter. True, he gives. But he expects to have his
gifts returned ten-fold to himself. He knows this, and he uses it to his advantage. – The Editor]

Kylie the Tout (N female tiefling Rog8 Free League/Touts Guild) – “Pike off you sodding berk! Mistake me
for an alu-fiend I think you do! I give tours of the city, not tours of anything else! Well, not to a leatherhead like
yourself anyways!” – Kylie the Tout

The flamboyant tiefling, and head of the Escort and Tout’s

Guild, is never a mundane sight as she walks through the
streets of Sigil. Kylie appears mostly human, with only the
leather wrapped and spike ended tail hiding behind her to give
her away as a tiefling. But to give her a more exotic look her
brilliant red hair is tied into a tail at the top that blossoms up
like some sky-seeking flower to cascade out and slightly down.
A small, thin white scar extends over her left cheek and
eyebrow, next to a small ring piercing the same. But aside from
her own personal appearance, her clothing attracts just as
much attention, being an exotic ensemble of blue-black leather
that tightly hugs her slim body and generally leaves little to the
imagination. Despite the garish and tempting appearance, the
spiked tip of her tail is typically ready to lash out at any berk
with too audacious a hand.

Usually riding atop Kylie’s shoulder or trotting along beside her

is her pet, companion, or some say familiar, known as Dib. Dib
is an ethyk, one of a species hailing from Arborea that appears
somewhat like a spider monkey with one eye and a long tail
somewhat like a black and white raccoon. As far as creatures
go, he’s smart and utterly loyal to Kylie, and she’s been known
to use him to get leatherheads off her back, divert them from
her trail, or distract them long enough to bob them for their jink.
As an ethyk, Dib has the ability to incite sudden blinding anger
in a blood, usually in such a manner as to get a group to
quarrel amongst themselves rather than attack him, or Kylie,
and he uses this ability with remarkable discretion and ability.

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Kylie is renowned as perhaps the most knowledgeable and sharp tout in all of Sigil, and has cultivated for
herself a reputation of knowing a vast number of contacts, and even a secret method of communication to
them when she wanders around the streets of Sigil. Her movements, from the sway of her tail to the twitch of
her hands or expression on her face at times can go through a remarkable dance of gestures when passing
by a random cutter or meeting another. Perhaps they have a meaning, or perhaps it’s simply a way of
cultivating the idea that she’s in touch with far more people than she actually is. With the growing number of
former faction touts and independent cutters flocking to work under the banner of the guild she now finds
herself heading, if her actions are indeed just a masterful bluff, they needn’t be much longer.

Her earlier history, however, was much more tumultuous than her current. She first began work as a
messenger under the employ of Autochon the Bellringer, current guild master of the Messengers and
Runners guild. According to members of the Runners guild, during one mission for him she simply took her
payment, as well as the object she was tasked to deliver, and ran off to make her own profit with it. Autochon
was enraged and would likely have killed her, had his own minder in the guise of Shemeska the Marauder not
stepped in and told him to not just ignore her treachery, but to protect her and her growing group of
independent touts she had been forming since leaving his employ. While baffled, Autochon responded to the
tug at his metaphorical leash and did as he was told.

In fact, it may be that much of Kylie’s current success is owed at least in part to Autochon’s continued
protection of her and her touts. Furthermore, the King of the Crosstrade may be a silent, unspoken backer of
the young tiefling guild mistress, letting her build up her own guild and ring of contacts for reasons unknown.
It’s been known that Shemeska has professed admiration for Kylie, and in glowing terms mentioned how
much of herself she sees reflected back in Kylie. This at the moment bodes well for Kylie, but the Marauder
may very well be seeking to eventually sink her talons deeper into the guild, or into Kylie herself and take the
group out from under her entirely once the fiend has finished fattening it up to her content. [Even Autochon
himself doubts entirely that this is the reason his taskmistress has him protect Kylie and her own. Some other
reason exists in his opinion that warrants Shemeska’s personal interest. And myself, I feel that with the
number of persons Kylie has trafficked with in recent years, who I will not mention here, that the Marauder
may be simply waiting for her to drag one of them out into the light. The guild itself exists as only a juicy
secondary prize compared to this other person, whoever they may be. – The Editor]

Lissandra the Gate-Seeker (NG female

human Wiz 11) – “The portals of Sigil are the
breath and bread of we, its citizens. No longer
can the factions hold monopoly upon the
location, means of activation, and destinations of
the portals of the Cage. Not as long as the Guild
of Doorsnoops maintains its records of such and
distributes this information without bias to all for
a fair price. Information was meant to be free
from the corrupt weight of corrupt organizations.”
– Lissandra the Gate-Seeker

Lissandra has come far since her first days in

Sigil. One of the many clueless primes who
stumbled their way into the City of Doors, she
had little to no money, no friends, and only a
passing idea of undertaking a study of the Lady’s
portals.

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Indeed she has progressed a long ways since those first awkward moments. She first began her work simply
by examining bounded spaces within the city for the owners of the property they stood upon, casting an
analyze portal upon them and being paid a pittance for her efforts. From there she progressed to being
funded into actual exploration of portals and their portal keys, and producing a log of her efforts. Most such
logs were banned from public distribution by order of the Fraternity of Order in the City Courts, with tacit
agreement by the other factions. Her efforts were financed in all likelihood by two sources, one of them
rumored and one of them based upon some fact. Likely factual is the financing of her efforts, as well as
possession of her log books, by Zadara the Titan, one of the Golden Lords of The Lady’s Ward. The more
rumored involvement is that of the Anarchists, of which Lissandra was apparently a former member before
the group’s supposed disintegration following the Faction War.

Since the formation of the Doorsnoop’s Guild, with Lissandra at the helm as guild mistress, her links to
Zadara are likely still in place due to the considerable amount of jink the titan poured into the investigative
efforts, and protection of Lissandra and her fellow portal mappers. [Lissandra herself admits to nothing, only
stating with a smile upon her face that her information is accurate and available to the public with no strings
attached, unlike the scraps of information the factions let fall to the public of Sigil before. I say the Anarchist
still rings true within her, pretty face aside. – The Editor]

Ramander the Wise, “Master of Portals” (NE male human Wiz 18) – “Nonsense! I do not charge for the
use of my portals, and MY portals they are. What I am doing is simply examining and logging what you, sir,
are importing into our fair city, and levying my own inspection fee. You may direct your complaints to me. ” –
Ramander the Wise ‘Master of Portals’

Never let it be said that a planar cannot be as stupid as they are ruthless. Ramander the Wise very much
satisfies this statement. The self-proclaimed Master of Portals, this wizard and former member of the Fated
has taken to buying property containing often-used portals. When the owners are willing to sell for his asking
price he then determines the proper portal key or keys to any portals and sells those portal keys. A profitable
business within Sigil, but Ramander takes this scheme one dangerous step further. Not only does he charge
for portal keys, he charges for actual use of the portals upon his properties. Every poor sod in Sigil’s past that
has attempted this has eventually been mazed, or worse, and the act is so much of an anathema to Sigil
property owners that the actual practice hasn’t occurred within the Cage in some number of years.

Apparently, that chant never crossed Ramander's ears, or registered as dangerous. He appears to have
simply thought it an ingenious scheme fit to make him wealthier than the Golden Lords of The Lady’s Ward. It
also didn’t hurt that Shemeska the Marauder approached him during the initial stages of his scheme with an
offer of protection. She claimed she could shield him from the Lady’s anger over charging access to “his”
portals. Of course, she lied through her teeth and hasn’t so much as lifted a finger to help him, simply
skimming her fraction of his profits. Likely the fiend is merely waiting for the time when he’s removed from the
picture entirely by his own stupidity. At that point it’s likely she’ll simply assume control of his properties and
either sell them off, or more likely revert back to the much safer route of selling the portal keys and allowing
otherwise unrestricted access to the portals themselves. It may not be surprising to note that Ramander may
or may not have hatched the scheme himself, but rather been given the idea directly, or filtered down to him
from his shrewish so called protector and business partner.

[Shemeska’s own past, and intimate, involvement with Mantello the Jeweler, a master thief, forger, confidence
man and fellow member of the Fated along with Ramander, makes this all the more likely. But who can say
what is dark and what is screed? – The Editor]

94
Rhys (N female tiefling Mnk 15/Sorc 10 Transcendent Order) – “When action is thought, and thought is
action, I will act in harmony with myself and the multiverse. There is no greater goal but harmony with oneself
and one’s surroundings in all things. Listen within, but do not shut out the whisperings of the planes, for the
Cadence speaks, and I act.” - Rhys

The enigmatic and serene tiefling Rhys, former factol of the Transcendent Order,
stands as the current chairwoman of the Sigil Advisory Council. A tiefling of uncertain
heritage, she typically appears dressed in the flowing monk robes of a member of the
Transcendent Order, though she has played this down since the Faction War. Like
many tieflings, she has a tail, but unlike most her legs end in cloven hooves, much like
the hind legs of a goat, below the knee. Her long black hair also tends to move, shift,
and writhe like it is constantly tousled by some unseen wind, and her ears resemble
nothing so much as exaggerated elven or half-elven ears.

All of these traits combine to give her an otherworldly air, combined with her own, at times, surreal sense of
her surroundings and others’ actions. Her traits as a former factol of the Transcendent Order make her seem
to react to situations almost before it should be physically possible. Two former assassination attempts saw
the tiefling turn to dodge perhaps a moment or two before the arrows had even fired from the bows. On one
occasion, rather than dodge the attack she calmly stepped to one side, plucked the arrow out of the air mid-
flight, and turned to calmly gaze at the would be killer who bolted without hesitation.

Her current position is likely owed to two qualities. First, she and her faction’s reputation of acting as
mediators between the other factions. It has been said before that the Ciphers would be reserve to a
Sensate, mercy to a Taker, and order to a Xaositect; all actions to bring themselves and their surroundings
into balance. As so with her faction, so with Rhys. Her leadership of the Ciphers saw them mediate a number
of conflicts within the Cage, and while they could not prevent the Faction War from occurring, they did not
exacerbate the conflict, and many of them aided in settling the chaos after the war had ended.

The second quality Rhys possesses, that none other in existence may say, is that she in some manner
foresaw or felt the coming storm of the Faction War, and quietly left the city. She stands as the only factol to
have survived the war that is not presumed dead, mazed, or flayed. That she did this and returned has given
her an air of mystery and prestige that makes her normally serene and distant impression upon others seem
all that more imposing. She claims, as do other high-ranking Ciphers, to be able to listen to and hear some
sublime heartbeat of the planes themselves that Ciphers terms the Cadence of the Planes. It was this, she
claims, that warned her of the brewing Faction War and of every other situation she reacts towards.

Upon the formation of the Sigil Advisory Council, Rhys, having already stepped down from the Transcendent
Order, accepted her appointment as chairwoman of the Vouncil, but dissuaded the remaining members of the
Council from making her former faction hall, the Great Gymnasium, the council’s meeting place. Such would,
in her eyes, come too close to violating the Lady’s Edict on the factions, and give an impression to the
average citizen of Sigil that she herself, as well as her faction, might be wielding too much power and
influence within the city. Rhys has much to do in her current position, and has been doing a wonderful job at it
from all accounts. The city has seemingly recovered from the Faction War, the guilds have stepped up to fill
the power vacuum, and no large-scale conflicts have arisen thus far under her watch.

[More information regarding Councilwoman Rhys would have been included, however my attempts to gain an
interview with her remain abortive. Upon meeting her and asking my first question, she simply stared at me
for a few moments before nodding and walking off. We know that I simply wish to speak the truth and allow
the common person to view it in order to decide for themself. I have no other agenda. So what then might
Rhys wish to not speak of? Is our esteemed chairwoman hiding something? I cannot know until she speaks to
me. – The Editor]

95
Rule-Of-Three (CE male marquis cambion Rog6/Sorc 6/Thrall of Grazzt 3) – “Talking in riddles, speaking
in rhymes, babbling three-fold cipher. Chaos is sweet, evil is sweeter, combined they’re everything. Such am
I, and much more, don’t you see?”– Rule-Of-Three

Rule-Of-Three is nearly a figure of legend within the Lower Ward and the
Hive, appearing as a wizened githzerai with his missing left eye replaced
by the glowing orb of a pale green gem, reputedly a gem of seeing. Of the
tales spun about him, most of them place Rule-Of-Three as a genius of
the crosstrade, perhaps one of the most powerful bloods among the
tanar’ri or tanar’ri-influenced portions of Sigil. Others place him as having
the ear of a number of Abyssal Lords, perhaps serving as their personal
agent within the City of Doors. Still, others call him an opportunistic blood
who nearly two decades previous was the sole survivor of a successful
attempt to enter and rob the neighboring mansions of two of Sigil’s
Golden Lords, their names not public, or the crimes mentioned at large to
prevent their own embarrassment. [He lost that one eye somehow, but
one does have to wonder what truly killed his fellow burglars. If the story
holds a scrap of truth that is. - The Editor]

None of the tales however mention that he is not what he appears to be.
It’s strongly suspected that he is nothing other than a marquis cambion,
though his Abyssal sire is not publicly known. His response to questions
of the truth of this are a three parsed phrase of yes, no, and maybe. All said with a smile, a bow, and a
glimmer of his magical eye.

Rule-Of-Three can most often be found lingering in the downwards sections of the Lower Ward near or within
the Styx Oarsman. He’s usually in one of the upstairs rooms, eating or drinking alone, speaking with a visitor
seeking advice, or meeting a client in the pursuit of illegal activities. Many times the enigmatic blood can be
seen wandering the streets of the Hive or Armory District of The Lady’s ward, oddly close to a number of
unusually large and bloody razorvine patches. [To engage in my own rendition of his often-cryptic ramblings,
more than he claims to be, the walls have ears, and he listens. – The Editor]

Shemeska the Marauder (NE female arcanaloth Sor7) – “It's hard being a voice of reason isn't it? I mean,
so much in Sigil would go so much better, and it'd no longer be the cesspool of corrupt dealings, bubbers,
and berks that it so often is, if only I got my way. Simple as that, I tell you." – Shemeska the Marauder

The disarmingly charming, self-titled King of the Crosstrade has amassed more personal power in the
aftermath of the Tempest of Doors than any other cutter in Sigil. Her spies and informants within the factions
have rapidly mutated, almost overnight, into a wide-ranging and deep network of contacts within the new and
growing organizations in a still rebuilding and reorganizing Sigil. In the confusion that followed the Faction
War, with a mixture of threats, garnish, and outright blackmail, the fiend has secured even more individuals
squarely in the palm of her furry, taloned hand.

Shemeska appears as do most arcanaloths, only she is more vain and pretentious if it were at all possible.
Her tawny, coppery-colored fur is kept impeccably groomed by a cadre of tiefling groomer-guards that
surround her at all times, each of them trained as no mere toady, but as assassins of the highest order. She
keeps herself adorned with a nearly garish array of rings, bracelets, earrings, and other adornments, each of
them fit for royalty. She normally wraps her body in a tight, slender strapless gown supposedly given to her by
a former, and long dead, lover within the Sensates. The fabric appears to shimmer a mix of blue, green, and
violet and makes a delicate tinkling noise as it shifts whenever she moves. In fact, the cloth is composed of
thousands of tiny colored glass beads strung upon ultra-fine wire and spun together as cloth. The fiend’s most

96
trademark apparel, however, is the tiara of still living razorvine she wears upon her head, perched between
her two ears that coils in brambles like some evilly twisted crown. [Yes, she’s honestly trying to give allusions
between her own appearance and that of the Lady. Ask her why she doesn’t call herself the Queen of the
Crosstrade, and step over the line just a bit more, and you’ll see her launch into a fit. – The Editor]

She is self-serving above all, can appear gracious and polite if needed, but always enters any discussion or
bargaining from a position of power. She may toss out at random in a conversation some damaging or closely
held secret of a visitor just to garner a reaction or impress upon them just how far her ears, and claws, reach
into Sigil’s society on so many levels. At times, she may simply ignore someone speaking to her and admire
her own reflection as she or one of her groomers adjusts some minor feature on her tiara, or a bit of fur out of
place. She might break off a conversation mid point to probe the speaker about their feelings on a new ring or
earring of hers, maybe even if the color of a gown or sash she’s wearing matches best with her eye color that
day. But the mercurial Arcanaloth has a temper to match her vanity, and the slightest displeasure has been
known to cause her to fly into one of her famed public temper tantrums, which typically end poorly for the sod
that caused her to become unhinged. [Her public vanity is likely nothing more than a guise to make potential
enemies underestimate her ability or personality. She is ruthless, utterly evil, and brilliant, even for her kind,
make no mistake of this. – The Editor]

All of her power runs just below the surface of polite society, and while her status and order of business is the
single worst kept secret in Sigil, she longs to have some actual pull in the Sigil advisory council, especially as
how Estavan the Ogre Mage managed to get himself elected to it. Currently she’s wooing and playing the
infernal temptress to both representative Holmin and Cirily of the Council, offering advancement of their ideas
both inside and outside of official city business in ways only she can offer, the price negotiable of course. Her
dance with Cirily is more cautious, what with the eladrin’s natural suspicion of the fiend, but Shemeska plays
enough to the ideals of the nearly fallen celestial that a working relationship may soon be more than a
pipedream.

Aside from the advisory council, the Marauder has been

the force behind the rise of Kylie the Tout in the newly
formed Escorts Guild and Touts Guild. It seems the
fiend has an interest in keeping Kylie safe. Rumor has it
the tiefling may even be related to Shemeska by way of
couplings best left to rumor, but it’s more likely that
Shemeska simply intends to snag power from her once
the guild grows and reaches the level of competence
she desires.

As an aside, Shemeska used to be called ShemesHka.

It seems recently the fickle and self- obsessed
arcanaloth up and changed the spelling and
pronunciation of her name and, without spreading the
word of the change, has expected everyone to call her
properly by the new version. She’s lately been taking a
nearly perverse pleasure in correcting and at times
mocking those sods that say it wrong by accident, and
in one case had the offending berk who called her the
wrong name on purpose taken behind the Fortunes
Wheel gambling hall and beaten to within an inch of his
life. Inside she acted as if nothing untoward had
happened at all, and returned to her dinner and any
callers seeking to buy or sell information.

97
Unity-Of-Rings (LG male movanic deva Proxy of Tyr) – “There is no need to pay me for my aid, but I will
not decline if you are insistent, there is much I may do with such to better another. A small word here, a small
action there. All which promotes that which is so often lacked within Sigil. In a word: Justice. From Justice all
good flows, and it is what I seek and whom I serve. Give justice, and justice you will receive as all comes full
circle.” – Unity-Of-Rings

Whether it be walking through the streets of The Lady’s Ward, the

gutters of the Hive, or flying amid the smoke laden clouds of the
Lower ward, most every citizen of Sigil takes notice, and some
measure of respect, reverence, or good enough sense to not
cause trouble when Unity- Of-Rings graces their path. The blue-
skinned, white-winged Deva is often seen simply patrolling the
streets of Sigil, a task he has taken upon himself to perform more
and more since the Faction War and the lack of much official
policing of some of the wards. But wherever he goes, he always
attempts to selflessly help those in genuine need. Be it simply
helping a drunken bubber find his way home, or prevent a gang of
thieves from peeling a clueless newly arrived to Sigil, he does
what he can without imposing himself.

Beyond such obviously good-natured actions, Unity-Of-Rings has

a habit of dispensing advice from the profound to the mundane.
Always his advice takes a roundabout way of explaining itself or its
meaning; meandering into seemingly pointless avenues before eventually, and always, returning to his
original point. True to his name, the deva acts in accordance with the multiversal law that all things eventually
come full circle, whether it be acts or events.

[It makes one wonder, what link if any, does the blood have to his seeming moral counterbalance, the
cambion Rule-Of-Three? And who, or what, then would be represented by the third such rule, Center-Of-All?
Mysteries abound. – The Editor]

Zadara the Titan (N female titan Merkhant) – “There is no greater force in this multiverse than coin. Jink,
money, gold, stingers, coppers, all terms for the same almighty moving force. They say the Outer Planes are
moved by belief alone. That belief shapes the planes themselves. But take a single coin to a starving beggar,
or a bag of it to a mercenary and you can have them forsake their beliefs in an instant for the feel of a coin
upon their palm. Jink oils the wheels of every society and race upon the planes, from celestial to fiend, and
nothing moves or stays still without the motivation of it as well. Control the flow of jink; hoard it or spend it;
and you control the planes themselves. All that stands in my way are those others with it who envision things
counter to myself, and those who prefer to use other subtle methods, inferior methods, besides jink itself. The
ogre mage, Estavan; he understands my methods and views quite well, and indeed he might be swayed to
them eventually. The Golden Lords of Sigil as well, many of them find it appealing to themselves and their
means. That dog- headed harpy of a Yugoloth however, Shemeska; she will require more than words to be
removed from the picture. Money and the prestige it brings versus fiendish fear and manipulation, it shall be a
thing to watch...” – Zadara the Titan

Of all the Golden Lords of Sigil, Zadara rises head and shoulders above them all in every sense of the world.
Nearly some ten yards tall, the chocolate-skinned titan dresses like a goddess and acts the part in most of
her business dealings. In terms of jink, she is likely second only to Jeremo the Natterer, factol of the Ring-
Givers, in the sheer amount of gold filling her titan- sized coffers. A member of the Merkhant sect, who believe
in money as the single most powerful moving force in the multiverse, Zadara personifies that belief in the way
that she wields her finances like the maul of the titans she keeps at her side at all times.

98
Barely ever leaving her immense razorvine-encrusted mansion in the center of the Noble’s District in The
Lady’s Ward, her pair of fallen sword archons, Kubriel and Gog, keep away visitors they deem unlikely to
garner the interest of their mistress. Zadara rarely speaks to others in person, content to allow her money to
speak for itself in her personal feuds with the other Golden Lords of the ward. In fact, some have noticed that
she seems apprehensive about leaving her home, and more often than not seemed nervous in a crowd,
frequently looking over her shoulder. It is likely that something in her murky past is still lingering on the edges,
or even the forefront of her mind that keeps her a shut-in within her own walls despite her own power. [Acting
like a goddess is vanity, but claiming to actually be one while on a Prime world to the point of detracting from
the worship of a genuine one is folly. – The Editor] But within her refuge, bedecked like the queen she would
be, playing with the fortunes of emperors, Zadara has set herself up as a patron of other peoples’ ideas,
schemes, efforts to make jink, and plans to make things happen. While Estavan binds people with contracts;
Shemeska with blackmail, fear and intimidation; Zadara binds them to herself with money and a person’s
greed for more.

Perhaps more so than with any other two persons within Sigil, there is conflict brewing between Zadara and
Shemeska the Marauder. Hatred is too small a word to describe Shemeska’s feelings towards Zadara, while
Zadara views the shrewish fiend as an insect, but one with a poisonous sting and burrows hidden all over the
city filled with its fellow vermin bought by treachery or malice. Since the Faction War, both women have
expanded their unofficial power and influence in Sigil, with Shemeska perhaps having the current advantage.
[It’s my feeling that Zadara would not elicit so much contempt and loathing from the Marauder if not for the
damning fact that she too is female. – The Editor]

99
 Wards

The City of Doors is proportioned into several different regions, or wards, as goes the terminology used in the
Cage. There are six wards in all, and what makes one ward distinct from another is primarily the type of
buildings therein, the cutters who live there and the manner of work that occurs within. The boundaries of the
wards are somewhat hazy at times, and the exact borders are prone to shift ever so slightly over time as
some neighborhoods expand or decline in size and certain types of residents set up kip or move. But
regardless of their expanse, the wards are named as The Lady’s Ward, the Clerk’s Ward, the Guildhall Ward,
the Market Ward, the Lower Ward, and the Hive.

The Lady’s Ward

“The Lady’s Ward...what to say besides that I appreciate the name. Reflects well on me and my growing
influence here in the Cage and the ward I spend the most of my time within. Oh don’t think me crass or
presumptive at all, that’s simply the way of things now. Everything falling into place, rearranged where I
dictate and when I dictate. The factions fell didn’t they?

“But enough about me...well, as if you could ever say enough about me. But back to your question about The
Lady’s Ward. Let me start with this: the intrigues of the Blood War and the constant shifts of power, allegiance
and betrayal within my old haunts on Gehenna and Khin- Oin upon the Waste...they pale in comparison
oftentimes to the web of treachery, selfishness and greed that permeates the hidden side of The Lady’s
Ward.

“From the High Houses of the Golden Lords to the knights of the post willing to sell out anyone to anyone in
the back alleys and taverns of the ward, more moral filth and depredation goes on in a single day than in the
bowels of the Lower Planes in an equal time. But I would know nothing of such things being but a wealthy
landowner and chant broker of Sigil; nothing at all. I simply sell what falls to my ears and crosses my palms.
Why sully myself in the muck when I can pluck the gold from the surface with a discrete, well-groomed
hand?”

[Here the fiend paused abruptly to admire her own reflection in a mirror held by one of her groomer-guards;
preening and playing with the fur atop her head and her razorvine tiara for nearly twenty minutes before
returning to the interview. – The Editor]

“The ward has its colorful share of inhabitants, for instance there’s that scheming and inept ogre mage who
somehow managed to get himself elected to the council. I assure you he won’t make a second term. Then
there’s that bitch of a titan. I needn’t mention her name either. Hiding in her mansion and trying to pull the
same strings I pluck like a harpist. She plucks them with the hands of a day laborer, using her money like a
sledgehammer when a deft and talented hand such as mine knows which notes to play to make a song and
not a broken instrument.

“So step back and watch the game here in The Lady’s Ward, see how it extends over the entire Cage, with
everyone playing their parts, and a few self-appointed directors competing for the role of the maestro. It is
nothing if not amusing. Now talk with me some more and you might as well have a handbill for the latest
performance.” - Shemeska the Marauder

The Lady’s Ward stands among the wards as the home of the rich and powerful, a shining beacon of purity
and decency among the other wards but with an underside kept out of the public eye, which many a Hive
dweller would pass by and complain of the stink. All in all, the ward combines the best and the worst of Sigil if
a blood knows where to look.

100
When a tout speaks to a clueless, prime or planar, about the ward, know that they’re speaking of The Lady’s
Ward, not the Lady’s Ward. There’s something of an implied ownership of the ward in name and in spirit to
Her Serenity. And while some more delusional clueless have asked for directions in the ward to actually visit
and hold audience with Her Serenity, the Lady doesn’t have such a place in the ward, or the entire city, rather
those tools of Her power within Sigil reside in The Lady’s Ward. The established ruling order of the city, from
the Sigil Advisory Council, to the Courts, Prison and Barracks, all reside within the Ward. Of course, since the
end of the Faction War, the factions who ran the Prison, Barracks, and city courts all had to officially step
down and relinquish their lofty holdings in the hierarchy of the city. Since that time their spots have been filled
by able and not so able replacements, many of them being former members of the factions who held the
positions. Old members of the Fraternity of Order who chose not to return to Mechanus with their faction
naturally gravitated towards the courts. Equally, a similar situation occurred when the Mercykillers dissolved
after their factol, Alisohn Nilesia vanished, and split into their original components of the Sodkillers and Sons
of Mercy. The Sodkillers formed the Minder’s guild to hire themselves out into the roles formerly taken by the
Mercykillers, and to some extent the Harmonium. The Sons of Mercy have attempted to do the same thing,
and their tabards have become more and more accepted, if occasionally ridiculed among the avenues and
streets of The Lady’s Ward.

While the ward’s wide, immaculate streets tend to be paved with high quality stone, kept free of refuse and
riffraff, it is hardly homogenous in any sense of the word. Several districts exist, some officially, others only by
common convention among the residents. The Nobles District holds most of the high houses of the so-called
Golden Lords of Sigil, those bloods holding a tremendous amount of wealth and many with more than their
fair share of influence. The area around the Barracks, Prison, and City Courts, is known as the Triad District
and has taken up a distinct flavor. Meanwhile, the Armory District has drifted slightly to present itself as more
an open sore in the midst of the ward since the Armory’s destruction during the Faction War, and its
subsequent ruin and further collapse in the Vecna incursion some years afterwards.

Nobles District

The Nobles District is so named for the prevalence of the richest of the rich of Sigil who call the district home:
a concentration of jink and power to make a power of wealth blink. The district itself is bounded more or less
within the ranges of Portal Close, Harmonium Street, and Lords’ Row, give or take a block or two.

Sitting on large tracts of land, the so-called High Houses of Sigil sprawl out within their fenced in compounds,
separated from the grime and trudge of Sigil’s residents. In fact, some of the houses are so set apart that the
residents could die within and it likely wouldn’t be discovered for years if they had already paid their guards
and servants.

The more noted residents of the ward, those who can be called genuine golden lords and not just
underground power brokers, include: Zadara the Titan, Jeremo the Natterer of the Ring- Givers, Wei Minh
Lee the Proxy of Shou-Hsing and dealer in potions of longevity, High Priest of Puchan the self-titled Lord of
Wealth, Duprak Jarneesh, Timmon d’Arlen of the d’Arlen family, and the planar arms merchant Spiral
Hal’Oight. In fact, with their waxing importance in Sigil, the first two of this list shall be detailed further in this
volume. Of course, those underground power brokers and royalty of the cross trade can have as much, or
more, power than the true Golden Lords.

Palace of the Jester – Situated near the Triad District, and forming the defining boundary between it and the
Nobles District, sits the Palace of the Jester. The palace stands as the single largest structure in all of Sigil, its
courtyards and the palace itself covering an area as large as any other three structures in the City of Doors
combined. The alternate name for the Palace is the Court of Pain, and the entire sprawling structure serves
as a neutral meeting ground for the intrigues and plotting of the various high houses and nobles from the
district and even across Sigil.

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Besides its immense size, the palace is likely the oldest surviving structure in all of Sigil as well. As far back
as records go, the Palace of the Jester has been there in The Lady’s Ward, predating even the City Courts it
lies adjacent from, and the Singing Fountain that separates the two edifices. The reason for the structure’s
name, which it has always been called, has been lost to the passage of time, and even the purpose of the
massive palace is forgotten. What is remarkable, however, is that the palace, for its size and grandeur, has
sat for many years nearly vacant, with only the grounds surrounding the palace serving any real public
function as a meeting ground for the prestigious and wealthy within cager high society. Inside the palace is
mostly deserted, a confusing tangle of mazelike passages, chambers and galleries that fill the palace to the
tips of its bladed spires and descend down to the ancient vaults and tunnels below street level. No known
map of the interior exists, and so visitors are advised to limit the extent of their wanderings to the inhabited
portions of the halls. The further down into the palace the stranger the architecture becomes. The lower levels
appear as if they were designed by a genius or a madman, with a similarity that some have compared to the
odd architecture of Harbinger House, the former Godsmen Asylum of equally unknown past history. Passages
dead end, stairwells ascend to ceilings, windows open up to blank walls far below ground level, and
chambers may be sealed shut from all sides but one while a maze of hidden passages winds through it all,
filled with the dust of centuries. Oddly enough, the dabus themselves seem peery about the palace, and
those seen wandering its halls (having ascended from below?) are often described as
acting...nervous...almost as if they’re being observed. One must wonder what could disturb the dabus so
within their own city?

In recent history, the Palace of the Jester has

been the residence of Jeremo the Natterer
and the Ring-Givers. Jeremo has been called
the Lady’s Jester, and speculation is
abundant that the lord of the Palace of the
Jester simply has taken the name out of irony
for his home, and his own quixotic attitude.
Others have suggested that the title is
somehow linked to the palace itself, a
hereditary moniker linked to whoever owns
the palace. That in itself raises questions
about the original purpose of the palace if
that bit of dark holds true.

Of late, it seems that Jeremo has become

increasingly worried of something within his
own halls. The chant mongers among the
taverns and gambling halls of the Lady’s
Ward spread the word, for no small bit of jink,
that the palace underhalls have become
overrun with an infestation of Cranium rats. If
the chant rings true, and isn’t a pack of self-
serving lies by the chant brokers, among
them Shemeska the Marauder, it begs the
question: are the rats the cause of the long
lingering problems within the palace, are they
themselves seeking something below, or are
they bubbling up into the palace after having
fled from something deeper below the
foundations?

102
Armory District

The district surrounding the Armory has always been a spot of contention among Lady’s Ward residents,
some claiming passionately that the Armory and the neighborhoods surrounding it belong in the Lower Ward,
while others have cried out with equal vehemence that it is, and always has been, part of The Lady’s Ward.

The contention arose in the past to the general appearance of the Armory with its smoke belching forges and
razorvine encrusted lower portions, and to the seedy neighborhoods that arose around it. The former
Doomguard, in their philosophical disagreement with the Harmonium, and to a lesser extent the Mercykillers
and Fraternity of Order, made life difficult around their faction headquarters for the Harmonium and their
allies. Hence, the Harmonium patrolled the district less and less, crime rose and knights of the post sprung
from the woodwork. This did not bode well for its status in the eyes of the Golden Lords and power brokers in
The Lady’s Ward.

The destruction of the Armory in recent years and the events that swirled around it soon after only added to
the contentions of some. The recent rebuilding of the Armory, the changing of its outward appearance, and
the general improvements these have produced in the district have more or less negated its chances of being
legislated off into the Lower Ward. Old feelings die- hard however, and some folks are still a bit peery walking
around this section of the city, half expecting the Doomguard to harangue them in passing.

Still, the district has cleaned up in recent years with the attentions of Faith and her followers and is now
solidly part of the Lady’s ward once again, much to the approval of the patrons of the Golden Bariaur Inn. This
inn at the very spireward end of the district, roughly three blocks from the shadow of the Armory, is a frequent
and popular spot for celestials of all alignments, as well as for the occasional fiends from the Lower Ward who
stop in to make trouble.

In contrast however, situated between Cobbles Lane and Doomguard Walk, next to the Park of the Infernal
and the Divine stands the silver bladed, black stone, Temple of the Abyss. Typically festooned with the
previous nights sacrificial victims, the temple is only tolerated by many of the ward simply because of the
number of nobles who’ve done business therein. It has a reputation of solving problems one way or another.

Armory – For almost a full four years after the Faction War, the Armory of Sigil sat abandoned after its
collapse during the battle between the Harmonium and the Doomguard and their respective allies. The
persistent rumors, not entirely unfounded, which held that within the shattered pile of occasionally smoking
rubble lurked a number of small and completely uncontrolled spheres of annihilation tended to keep away
scavengers and vagrants. [And, for that matter, developers. – The Editor]

In its original incarnation by the Doomguard, the Armory was graced with a massive bas-relief symbol of their
faction upon the front exterior of the structure, four sprawling iron latticework flying buttresses, and encrusted
along the lower levels with razorvine. Four towers, each strangely free of crawling razorvine, flanked the
corners of the building, each corresponding to the four negative touched Quasielemental Planes, and indeed
it appears that the towers were nothing more than empty stone husks from the exterior. But from the inside
each contained a portal leading to an actual tower that stood within one of the four Doomguard strongholds in
the plane it occupied. Starting at the northeast tower and circling clockwise, the portals lead to Citadel
Alluvius, Citadel Sealt, Citadel Exhalus, and finally the Crumbling Citadel.

From here, the Doomguard sold weapons created within the massive forges located inside, along with siege
engines if the buyer had the jink for it, as well as stocks of unsold or defective weapons.

In the aftermath of the Tempest of Doors and the collapse of the Armory, the portals vanished and the former
Doomguard members fleeing to their strongholds on those planes had to do so the long way in their exodus
to the Inner Planes. The weapons stored within that had not already been handed out freely by the entropy
obsessed faction members and their weapons master, the recently deceased cambion Ely Cromlich, were
looted from the ruins or buried within in the subsequent collapse of the building.

103
In the past two years, the Armory has been rebuilt from its long languishing ruins in the corner of The Lady’s
Ward that threatened to cause the neighboring district to be claimed as part of the Lower Ward. The exterior
is actually much the same, though it lacks the forges and weapons storage chambers, now being devoted to
a much different moral and philosophical ethos than before. The rebuilding and conversion of the Armory has
been orchestrated by Faith, the Harmonium factol. She has indeed not given up on Sigil, unofficially, and has
seen to it that a blood by the name of Nicolai Mabru (LG male tiefling Rog5/Ftr7 Harmonium), a reformed
chaotic evil tiefling and one of the Harmonium’s success stories, has taken over the administration of the
Armory. Mabru, as much an opposite to the now mazed Factol Pentar as two bloods could be, has designed
the Armory for the use of like-minded followers from Arcadia, and anyone within Sigil who would learn from
him the lessons he professes on a daily basis on the nature of harmony. His relationship with Faith and the
Harmonium itself is kept strictly separate, and while he is certainly influenced by common ideals with the
other Harmonium outside of Sigil, he has no direct links to the faction and is certain to keep it so, else he
anger the Lady.

With a sense of irony, the rebuilt Armory has taken on many of the same roles of the Great Gymnasium,
though with an emphasis on external harmony, law, and moral redemption through training and cooperation
with others rather than personal harmony and enlightenment espoused by the Cipher’s former faction hall.

During the long process of the Armory’s reconstruction several things were oddly missing. None of the
spheres of annihilation present during the Armory’s original collapse were found buried in the rubble, nor were
most of the weapons. Apparently the ruins give evidence of having been looted from beneath in secret in the
past several years, with the Doomguards’ long held secret, the so-called Chamber of Bones simply gone,
hollowed out like a bubble in the stone. This chamber, used as a monument to Entropy and a meeting place
of the four Doomlords of the Doomguard, was built and paved from floor to ceiling with the bones of dead
former Doomlords and supported by a ring of pillars built of their skulls. The chamber located deep beneath
the street level of Sigil, and directly beneath the main forge, was simply gone, not a knucklebone remaining.
[Make what you will of this. The actions of one of the Doomguard splinter factions? Perhaps stolen as a
treasure trove of information for interested persons such as Lothar the Master of the Bones, or some other as
yet unknown party? – The Editor]

104
Triad District

The Triad District, so named for the confluence of the three seats of law and order in Sigil, namely the City
Courts, the City Barracks, and the Prison; sits as the central district of The Lady’s Ward, sandwiched between
the Nobles District and Armory District.

This district has always, and for the most part, continues to be the most sterile and homogenized of the
districts in The Lady’s Ward. Sometimes referred to as having the houses of law rather than the houses of
gold in the ward, it is more the seat of official government within Sigil rather than the seat of oftentimes more
influential cutters from the Noble’s District. With the possible exception of the area immediately around the
City Courts, most of the businesses are orderly, calm, and devoid of the chaos one might expect in the other
wards, with the sometimes volatile mixing of races and philosophies. There are, however, some notable
exceptions if a blood knows where to look.

One of the largest draws of the nobles and hoi polloi of The Lady’s Ward, as well as every knight of the post
and crosstrader in Sigil is the Fortune’s Wheel inn, tavern, and gambling hall situated at the crook of Dossy
street in the center of the Triad District.

The Fortune’s Wheel is comprised of several related establishments such as the Dragon Bar, the Dicing Cup,
the Bear-Baiting room, and the Fortune’s Wheel as well as a small inn above the gambling houses named the
Azure Iris Inn. Night in and night out, the tavern is home to those seeking their fortune at the tables, seeking
someone else’s fortune at the same tables, to spend money with little regards to winning or losing, and more
often than not to engage in the petty and often treacherous plotting of the Lady’s Ward. The gambling hall, for
this reason and this reason alone, is one of the principal haunts of the so-called King of the Crosstrade,
Shemeska the Marauder, who dines at the Wheel nightly to broker information, both true and false.

Also nestled along Dossy Street, spireward of the Prison, is the Twelve Factols, an underground restaurant
and tavern, that while not nearly as exclusive and a place of intrigue as the Fortune’s Wheel, has its own
draw in its history and its rumored connection to both UnderSigil and the Dabus warrens. [The recent
business conflict between the Twelve Factols and the Portal Jammer within the Clerk’s Ward is something to
watch. The Twelve Factols claim infringement upon their own draw, the ancient factol statues in their lower
chambers, versus the Jammer’s animated dolls of the most recently mazed or killed Factols purchased from
the Friendly Fiend in the Lower Ward. The fiend himself, A’kin, apparently blushed when asked to comment
on the problems arising from the whimsical creations. – The Editor]

City Courts – Another leg of the triad of law and order within The Lady’s Ward, the Courts have always in the
past and now in the present served to determine guilt and innocence of those sods found to have broken one
of the laws of Sigil. The Courts themselves did not make the laws of Sigil, but they did interpret them and
determine guilt or innocence under those laws and pass sentence. From there the former Mercykillers, the
Red Death at the Prison and Tower of the Wyrm, carried out the sentence. The Fraternity of Order, the faction
which until recently called the City Courts both their place of business and faction headquarters, deigned not
to design the laws they operated under in the courts.

The Courts sit in the center of the ward, downward from the Singing Fountain and the Palace of the Jester.
The typical sterile, clean, and to some extent rigid environment of The Lady’s Ward might indeed take its cue
from the Courts, which after all upheld the laws of The Lady’s Ward that actually restricted the building codes
and architecture for new buildings to a defined set of terms. However, that stereotypical environment has
never really held true around the courts themselves. The paragons of law within Sigil are surrounded in the
immediate neighborhood, to say nothing of the courtyards surrounding the Palace of the Jester, by numerous
businesses that serve those who work for the courts directly or indirectly, and those hawking their wares and
services to those going before the courts and the families of those same. Taverns and bub halls abound as
well as morticians and undertakers, scribes, and most importantly, advocates to plead the case of the
accused before the courts.

105
Especially so with the advocates, the Courts and the plaza surrounding it along with the public waiting halls
just inside are abuzz with competing lawyers and other court servants to where it seems as if chaos might be
reigning in the place of laws. A bit of unique irony in the heart of Sigil.

Within the Courts, besides the courtrooms of law themselves, a number of different former Guvner halls,
record chambers and the law library of Sigil reside. Many of the Guvner records and books left with them, but
the library itself is comprehensive in the extreme if a blood doesn’t mind sitting down and doing a bit of
research. The answer to most any question is there in the stacks if one but has the patience to equal one of
the Guvners who wrote most everything there.

The Courts still hold the same function and purpose as before now with the resolution of the Faction War, but
shortly after the war, and with the death of the Guvners’ factol, Hashkar, the majority of the faction members
picked up their belongings and departed the Cage for the faction holdings on the plane of Mechanus.
Understandably, this left Sigil in the position of having very few qualified judges left in place to keep the courts
and relevant bureaucracy in operation.

The seeming conundrum was solved in short order by the most unexpected of cutters, the dabus. Explaining
their eagerness to help fill the positions vacated by the Guvners, yet without actually stating this to be the
directions of Her Serenity, they took up the positions of judges left vacant. As judges, the dabus are
incorruptible since they don’t take bribes, can’t truthfully be threatened or cowed into a particular decision,
and are fair in their judgments. The trick, however, is that being dabus, they don’t speak except through
Rebus, and this requires skilled, professional translators, of which few in Sigil existed before recently. Now it
seems that along with lawyers, professional dabus translators are required for both plaintiff and defendant,
since an outcome of guilt or innocence may hinge on the exact, and not always unambiguous meaning of a
string of illusory letters and symbols. A sentence may be passed with both sides declaring victory based on
their own interpretation.

After only a year however, the dabus serving in the courts made it known that while they could perform their
new jobs, qualified former judges, even those who had been Guvners, which is to say, nearly all of them,
would be welcomed back in their former positions. The caveat was that any returning judges would have to
hold themselves to the same standards as the dabus, and couldn’t act as arms of their former faction and its
philosophy in carrying out the business of the courts. Recently, former judges have been returning to their
positions, but not yet enough of them have done so to relieve the dabus completely.

In any event, the judgments of the court might range from a fine, public service, imprisonment, or rarely
execution. The latter has been rarely enacted, likely due to lingering memory of the public spectacles that the
former Mercykillers under Alisohn Nilesia made of such death sentences.

The sequence of justice is fairly simple.

The City Guard apprehends the accused
officially, though just as many are
brought in by the Sons of Mercy, and to
a lesser degree the Minders Guild. While
awaiting trial the accused may be
incarcerated at the City Barracks, and
any future incarceration takes place
there as well, though in the future this
may change to the Prison depending on
the petitions of the Sons of Mercy.
Following judgment, criminals are
punished by officials within, or hired by
the Guard, especially in the case of
executions.

106
City Barracks – Forming a rough triad of law and order along with the Prison and the City Courts, and a
stone’s throw from the rebuilt Armory, the utilitarian hulk of the City Barracks stands in The Lady’s Ward. The
stark, many would say ugly, structure sits as a great square of heavy gray stone situated between the
Boulevard of the Fist and Harmonium Street.

During the heyday of the Harmonium the City Barracks was a constant and orderly place filled with the
ubiquitous pounding of stiff, heavy boots on equally stiff and heavy stone. Four towers and four walls with a
dull, slate tiled roof looking like some bland, apathetic artistic work of a petitioner of Hades, the lawful nature
of the place tended to suck the more lively aspects from the blocks surrounding the building. The constant
Harmonium patrols ensured that the least infraction of Sigil’s laws around the faction headquarters would not
be overlooked, but rather be made an example of. After all, they were the Harmonium, and their might made
right. But that was then, and times have changed.

The ground level of the Barracks comprised the public areas of the building as well as the massive central
courtyard, itself used primarily for the training and drilling of Harmonium novitiates. The lower levels
comprised auditoriums, classrooms, a mess hall for faction members, numerous training rooms, and the
faction dormitories.

The second level of the Barracks held the officers’ quarters as well as the factol’s office and the residence of
their family. Many of the faction records herein, including the bulk of the arrest records dating back over two
hundred years, simply vanished during the period immediately after the Faction War. While the bulk was
discovered strewn in the streets or for sale by knights of the post in the months later, the current location of a
number of them, including a period comprising twenty years from the previous century have yet to be
recovered.

Since the assassination of Factol Sarin during the Faction War, and the destruction of the Armory during
which a great number of the Harmonium within Sigil died, the faction has picked up and mostly abandoned
the City of Doors. The barracks has been reclaimed by the new City Guard, but with neither the stiff efficiency
nor tough zeal of the former occupants. And to the same extent law and order in the city suffered for some
time, and still does with the Minders guild and the Son’s of Mercy attempting, and mostly failing, in some
ways to pick up where the Harmonium left off. Some would rejoice at this, others long for the days of the
Hardheads, but it’s unlikely they’ll return en masse in the near future.

107
Prison – Comprising two distinct and once connected structures, the Prison proper and the nearby Tower of
the Wyrm, the former faction headquarters of the Mercykillers, stands just spireward of the intersection of
Prison Row, Rotten Row, and Guvner’s Mile at Couriers’ Square.

Fully three times the size of the City Barracks, the Prison stands 1,100 feet on a side between each of the
four corner towers, with a further four towers of smaller stature arranged within each exterior wall. The walls
stand seven stories high, and while the building looks solid enough from the exterior, the interior of the Prison
is mostly a single giant courtyard. The interior of featureless gray and brown dirt is marked only by the two
walkways that hang above the pit and allow for watching of prisoners on exercise.

Beyond the main gate of the Prison, which faces Courtiers’ Square, are the chambers formerly devoted to
faction business, while the rest of the interior of the prison is composed mainly of cells for prisoners. While
the prison has divested itself of many of the prisoners, it held formerly during the reign of Factol Alisohn
Nilesia, the cells are slowly filling once more with the lawbreakers of Sigil, among them the more violent ones
released on the misguided but good intentions of Arwyl Swan’s Son during the last days of the Faction War.

As dreary and oppressive as the main aboveground bulk of the Prison may appear to inmates or even a
passerby, similar to the City Barracks, the worst was mostly unseen and unknown by the public ‘till recent
years. It seems that below street level, carved out of the stone of Sigil’s ring, sat an underground level filled
with solitary confinement cells for hardened prisoners as well as for random intimidation and psychological
torture of simple inmates. The so-called Cellars, along with dining halls, laundry rooms, and other chambers
for work detail for prisoners, were filled with the torture and sentencing chambers of the condemned and a
poor sod had no way of knowing when on a daily basis he’d be descending to the Cellars for simple work
detail, or to face the gallows.

The Prison is slowly being refit and rebuilt, and there are indications that the Sons of Mercy may attempt to
officially petition to run the facility and to handle the incarceration of prisoners now currently being held in the
Barracks and its adjacent buildings. This, of course, raises the hackles of more than a few council members,
both for the giving of that official power to a faction and the
proximity to the Sodkillers.

Adjacent to the Prison and standing within Petitioners’ Square

rises the Tower of the Wyrm, a relic of Sigil’s past now serving as
the headquarters of the Sodkillers and emblazoned on all sides
still with the crimson dragon symbol of the Red Death. Inside, the
tower was once filled with petty prisoners and interrogation
rooms as well as the towers namesake, the Wyrm, or Cage
Serpent. The Wyrm was a specially bred wyvern, magically
enhanced by the Mercykillers to produce venom that induced
delirium in prisoners when extracting confessions. Executions by
hanging, as well as being simply devoured alive by the Wyrm,
were commonplace during the reign of Nilesia, but since then the
tower has not seen a public execution. It is unlikely that the Sigil
Advisory Council will sanction any such actions by the Sodkillers.

The Wyrm itself was slain during the peak days of the Tempest of
Doors, though the body was never found and some say that it
was either secreted back to Acheron by those still faithful to the
faction’s ideals under Nilesia or to Nilesia herself, wherever she
herself vanished to during the Faction War itself. [I dare say that
we may not have seen the last of that girl... - The Editor]

108
 The Clerk’s Ward

“Gold and the misers that hoard it lie in The Lady’s Ward, along with the seats of power within the Cage and
the means to enforce it as well. But in the Clerk’s Ward lies the bureaucracy that oils the wheels of that great
machine called Sigil, and it is within the Clerk’s Ward that the voices of the citizens of the Cage have been
always heard. Control what the sources of those voices hear and believe, and you then control what direction
that great machine moves, for better or for worse.

“A message and ears to listen to it, is that all that is required for power? No. You must still have a charismatic
voice and a face to present that message to the masses. I give of myself freely. I do and say what the people
ask of me. The citizens of the Cage call out to me and how can I not act to clean their city of the living filth
and refuse heaped upon them from the Prime? I listen and I act.” – Cirily of the Planarists

Where The Lady’s Ward represents the principal seats of power and influence in Sigil that operate under the
ostensible authority and permission of Her Serenity, every seat of power requires a bureaucracy. Present in
the Clerk’s Ward are those clerks, ministers, and petty officials that carry out, plan and order the points of
business that are determined from The Lady’s Ward.

The Clerk’s Ward has, in the past, been referred to as the Ward of Masks. Some archaic references to it still
exist, but the term has been defunct for thousands of years. The origin of the name is lost in time, unlike the
reasons behind the former name for the Lower Ward as the Prime Ward, itself explained in the details of that
ward elsewhere in this volume.

Administrator’s District

Within the appropriately named Administrator’s District, spireward of Tea Street, the elite of the Clerk’s Ward
congregate. Mostly separated from those in the more common Workers District by status as much as money,
they enjoy a slightly higher standard of living, typically with servants, personal cooks, and most of their
household goods and food delivered for them as needed.

Around the borders of the Administrative District, near the Hall of Information and Hall of Speakers alike, are
a number of inns and eating houses, among them the Tear of the Barghest, the Whole Note Inn, and the
Portal Jammer. The last of these inns is known mostly for the Mercane spelljamming vessel brought into the
city, part by part, and reconstructed to appear as if it crashed into the upper stories of the building. Part of the
helm serves as the bar, while other sections serve as rooms available for rent. Adding to its name recognition
is its recent business spat with The Lady’s Ward tavern the Twelve Factols over the Jammer’s animated dolls
of the late mazed or otherwise dead factols.

Hall of Speakers – The Hall of Speakers was formerly the faction hall of the Sign of One and the forum in
which the factions met to spout their arguments over philosophy, city business, and to preach their take on
the world to everyone who would listen. More often, those
who were there to listen were bound by their own factions to
do so in order to wait their own turn to speak.

Externally, the Hall of Speakers is a thing of beauty, a great

oblong curved dome, topped by a carved, tall, graceful
spire. Other smaller, but equally elegant spires rise from the
lower sides of the dome, many of them of different colored
stone or magically ornamented. Standing near to the dome
rises a great iron statue called the Power of One, depicting
a woman smiling and holding aloft a sphere of a Prime
world cradled in one hand. Yet another lingering remnant of
the now dead faction.

109
Inside the Hall, the central hollow is filled with a well-tended garden, still cared for by former faction members
and paid gardeners employed by the new owners of the structure seeking to keep it as attractive as the
Signers kept it in previous years. Beyond the garden, an area previously off limits to non-faction members,
stands the private meeting halls of the Sign of One as well as the chambers of former ex-Factol Darius,
herself consigned to the Mazes. [Factol Darius, ‘The Veyl’, went to the Mazes and her faction has
disintegrated without her leadership. However, she left us not without lingering friends in high places. Friends
who owed her debts. Friends such as Bel, the Lord of the First Layer of Baator. If Bel yet considers himself to
owe Darius his debt, she may not linger in the Mazes forever. – The Editor]

Additionally, and of great public interest of late, is the oval tomb of the founder of the Sign of One, Rilith. Her
remains are said to rest within an urn carved from a single milky pearl. In the past, Signers would gather here
to ‘imagine’ the tomb’s existence, keeping it a reality, for they claimed if they ever stopped imagining her as
having existed, they too would cease to exist. Contrary to their beliefs perhaps, the tomb still exists, under
guard, with none to constantly sit and believe in it.

For years, however, the hall, while ostensibly open for debate by anyone in the public body politic, was used
exclusively by members of Sigil’s factions. To combat the seeming powerlessness of the general public in
Sigil to speak and have their words actually heard, there stands the Trianym, similar in function, if not at all in
form, to the Hall of Speakers. Three brick columns allow for speakers to stand and debate, while three large
benches allow for onlookers and spectators to listen and as appropriate hurl coins or refuse at those
speaking.

Just a short distance and within easy sight of the Hall of Speakers, stands a great statue, the largest such in
Sigil, of a rearing, three eyed Nic’Epona. Called the Trioptic Nic’Epona, or by locals as the Triona, the statue
is a genuine thing of beauty. While not actually the property of the Hall of Speakers’ owner, it has long been
associated with the Hall for aesthetic reasons. It was long protected and kempt by the members of the
defunct faction of the Doomguard, and held a number of portals to the Prime, Elysium, and Mount Celestia
within the bound spaces of the platforms before the Tempest of Doors.

Recently now, with the cessation of faction business in the Hall, the new owners have taken to renting out
space to the numerous private meeting chambers and even the old council chambers and podium of the
speaker. Public interest has remained high in the place, despite it no longer having the task of carrying out
the official business of the city government, a task now undertaken by the Sigil Advisory Council.

Workers District

Most of the lower ranking clerks, craftsman, and common laborers of the ward, those without rank, wealth, or
both, tend to settle in the aptly named Workers District. This large district, roughly downward of the blue and
green painted Hull Road opposite the Festhall District, is filled largely with small, single family kips and larger
but clean and well kept tenements. The place is orderly enough compared to the Hive, which is too easily
within walking distance for most workers, but it lacks the luxuries common to the homes in the Administrators
District.
Sandstone District

For all the order and cleanliness imposed by law upon the Clerk’s Ward, a blood wouldn’t commonly suspect
that in the midst of it all, tucked away in all the order would be a community composed almost entirely of
tieflings; and a respectable community at that. The Sandstone District is located between Crystal Dew lane,
Founder’s Fence, and the edges of the Slags as they abut near the Clerk’s Ward. The name of the district is
derived from the red sandstone paving stones used to line the streets of the district. The tieflings, many of
them sick of their reputations, have holed up here among themselves and largely ignore the rest of the ward.
Otherwise, the district largely resembles the Workers District in atmosphere and living conditions, if largely
differing in the faces on the street.

110
Hall of Records – What existed once as a private university within Sigil known as Bigby’s College of
Academic Arts and was subsequently repossessed by the Fated, now exists as only a pile of rubble atop the
cluster of hills it once occupied before the Faction War. Shortly after the war ended and the Fated fled Sigil for
their old faction headquarters upon Ysgard, the building and all the vast number of public records, including
debt notices, were ransacked by the curious, the greedy, and those seeking to erase their very existence in
the records of the purse pickers of Sigil. Nothing remained sacrosanct, and from the vaults of records to the
very furniture, the entire building was looted clean.

Years of tunneling beneath the buildings to build secret vaults in which to store the supposedly public records,
as well as ex-Factol Rowan Darkwood’s reams of research into Sigil’s past history, left the ground under the
entire complex weakened and under the constant threat of collapse. Faced with the danger to the
surrounding blocks in the ward, the entire edifice was picked clean of any remaining records or usable goods,
and the building was torn to the ground and many of the tunnels purposefully collapsed. Undisclosed parties
have since purchased the site, and to date it has yet to be developed, remaining a jumble of brick and marble
surrounded by the wooded campus that originally surrounded the Hall.

Despite the demolition of the Hall of Records, the five other largest and most important buildings on the old
faction grounds still exist. The Halls of Property Records and Census Records, the Faction Dormitory, Faction
Hall, and the Rowan Academy of Training yet stand on the grounds, though each was ransacked in turn just
like the Hall of Records.

Though presently unoccupied aside from squatters, the campus sits within its walled confines at the
intersections of Scholar Row and Crystal Dew Lane in the eastern ends of the Clerk’s Ward near to the
Sandstone District on one side and the Administrators District on the other.
Festhall District

Surrounding the Civic Festhall, in the rough triangle of the ward between Crystal Dew Lane, Hull Road, and
Thistlewind Way, the Festhall District does its best to enliven the orderly and sometimes bland Clerk’s Ward.

Even with the official cessation of organized activity by the Sensates within Sigil, the vast majority of the
bloods retain their old positions as a matter of habit, comfort, and ability. In that respect, little has changed in
the Festhall District since the Faction War. Shops selling fine wines, curios, and artwork, as well upscale
taverns and the like dot the district like many a street in portions of The Lady’s Ward. The Civic Festhall’s
proximity ensures frequent street festivals, live musical performances in the outdoor arenas in the district that
can be heard for blocks away, and wandering performers along the wide district streets.

Spireward from the Civic Festhall and further adding to the festive atmosphere of the district is the Lazz
School of Vivid Unpleasantness, a more avant-garde center for the graphic and performing arts in Sigil.
Former members of the Bleak Cabal and Free League tend to be attracted to the school and its frequent,
often controversial performances.

A scant few blocks from the Civic Festhall lies the fenced in kip and surrounding grounds of Jeena Ealy, the
former adventurer and famous author of In Darkest Sigil. One of the wards more famous citizens, she found
herself elected to the Sigil Advisory Council in large part because of the ward’s citizens themselves. Despite
her position, she can still be found in her kip from time to time, though at her advancing age she prefers her
own company more than in earlier years.

The Greengage tavern, across the street from the Civic Festhall, caters to Sigil’s gnome and halfling
communities; most others have a hard time simply squeezing through the doors. The famous Greengage
cider has become such a commodity in the past year that the owner, Marda Farambler (CG female halfling
Exp 1), has built a outdoor patio for larger customers to keep up with the booming demand. [And to keep
them from packing the inside of her inn. From Pennyroyal’s Orchards to your tankard, she serves a fine cider.
– The Editor]

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Civic Festhall – Along with the Great Gymnasium and the Hall of Speakers, which all sit within walking
distance of each other in adjacent wards, the Civic Festhall stands as one of the most beautiful pieces of
architecture within all of Sigil. Like the Great Gymnasium, it has seen little outward change in its operations
since the Faction War, despite the disbanding of the Society of Sensation, which built and operated the
Festhall.

Situated in the Clerk’s Ward at the corner of Crystal Dew Lane and Festive Way, the elegantly spired and
gloriously decorated building has stood for over six hundred years and was built and planned over the course
of a further century. The Society of Sensation left nothing to whimsy in the construction of the Festhall.
Everything from the mineral veins present in the marble blocks used to construct the outer façade, which
details in mosaic the five senses, to the color of the ore used to build the bladed spikes, spires, and flying
buttresses that radiate from the building like the spines of a great ocean mollusk was carefully planned. The
interior walls with their alternating rough and smooth patches, the tiny carvings playing like crawling vines
across the corner of a tile in even the remotest corner of the main hall’s expanse, every bit of the Festhall has
something for one to experience and ply the senses with. Nothing was left to chance; all was planned for
years as a single great and wondrous artistic expression of the experiences to be had by a cutter in Sigil and
across the multiverse.

Once past the elaborate doors of the main entrance, each over ninety feet tall, the grand hall is filled with the
scents of a hundred perfumes drifting on the air flowing from any number of people or classrooms throughout
the first floor of the building. Off to either side the space is filled with classrooms and lecture halls that
concentrate on any of a hundred
topics that are never the same two
days in a row. Lecture topics may
range from mundane topics of
academia such as the types of
githyanki Astral Carracks over the
past century, to a free for all food
fight within a closed room with
baatezu cuisine just because they
threw tanar’ri food the other day.

While the Sensates have officially

abandoned Sigil, its members left
only in name as most of those
running the Festhall today are
Sensates. They continue to perform
their duties even without the official
backing of the faction. [At least the
public backing of it anyways. – The
Editor] Most of the entertainment and
scheduling of performances within
the Festhall is arranged by a cutter
by the name of Annali Webspinner
(CN female bariaur Ftr7 Society of
Sensation). She still retains the
position in the Festhall she had
before the Faction War, losing none
of her purpose or ideals with the fall
of her faction’s power.

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Aside from the lecture halls, there are rooms that had previously been reserved for Sensates to use once
devoted to training new and old techniques in magic, combat styles, and roguery. All manner of styles and
techniques are trained therein, and now since the Faction War they’ve ostensibly been open to the public,
though for a charge, and for a lower cost if a blood has donated experiences to the public or the sensoriums
before. The sensoriums themselves are one of the key draws of the Festhall, being a collection of
experiences encompassing emotions, sights, touches, smells, and tastes. All of the collected experiences are
the memories of those same experiences drawn and given freely from a cutter’s mind with the purpose of
sharing them with others.

Outside the Festhall and set on adjacent hillsides stand two auditoriums, the Northumber Amphitheatre which
is in open air and the Elloweth Theatre which is shielded by a translucent covering of capiz shell to allow in
light. Both are used for live performances of musical and theatric presentations, typically in daylight hours.
Other concerts, plays, and the like are held within Ren Hall inside the Festhall itself to packed crowds
regardless of the price of admission. These larger scale events are held twice a night with staggered styles of
performances between evenings.

Also within the Festhall are numerous guest quarters as well as the previously private chambers of former
Factol Erin ‘Darkflame’ Montgomery. Since the factol’s disappearance during the Faction War, presumably to
one of the Lady’s Mazes, the chambers have lain undisturbed and her former faction members have done
their best to keep away prying eyes from this and supposedly deeper chamber within the bowels of the
Festhall. Little known except to Sensates, the interior dimensions of the hall are significantly smaller than the
outside dimensions would allow for, suggesting unused spaces or chambers concealed to the public. One
such chamber is said to be a hall of portals to various planes called the Sanctum Sanctorum at the very heart
of the Festhall. There is also rumored to be a now collapsed tunnel that led from that hidden chamber to the
depths of the former archives beneath the now destroyed Hall of Records.

Little Arcadia

Once a common squat for those members of the

Harmonium involved in the constant patrols that
monitored the Clerk’s Ward, this neighborhood has
taken a downturn since most of the faction pulled up
their roots and gave the Cage the slip after the Faction
War. The pristine streets are still clean, clear, and well
lit, but more for the increase in activity of the aasimon
who have in fluxed into the district than to the now
waning patrols of any city officials of the law.

Here, more than most areas of Sigil, celestials are

commonplace and randomly observing a deva or
similar being traversing the streets is not shocking,
though the higher-ranking celestials tend to congregate
among themselves. Indeed more than a few
establishments in the area cater only to full-blooded
creatures of the upper planes, gently turning away
even bariaur as not “good” enough. [Woe be to the
fiend who tries to push the issue for a drink inside one
of these inns... - The Editor]

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 The Guildhall Ward

“Well you’ve paid your jink, and show you the Guildhall Ward I shall. The name itself says as much as most
cutters can, and in many ways it’s not too different from me home, the Market Ward. But power I tell you, it’s
creeping into the ward from the gutters on up.

“Eh? Me? Well I’ve got my own opinions on the ward certainly. The way I see it, things’ll be coming full circle
eventually, and influence is fleeing the factions like cranium rats in an astral storm and piling up high with the
guilds. Of course, I’m the head of one of them, so me views a bit slanted you might say.

“But a good bunch of people the ward has, and I like to think I know most of them. So don’t be surprised if I
happen to nod and wave to half of them as we start this little walk.” – Kylie the Tout

The Guildhall Ward, in its storied past was once, in the years before the Great Upheaval, the center of real
power in Sigil. Then, before the Lady reduced the number of factions to fiftenn from the hundreds of
squabbling, competing ones before, the real powers in Sigil were the talented groupings of workers and
craftsmen of the Guildhall Ward. By pooling their numbers and power, they could out maneuver the ever-
fighting factions. But the consolidation of the factions after the Great Upheaval saw to the decline and
eventual end to the guilds grip on Sigil, and indeed many of them ceased to exist in time as the factions took
control of more and more of the Cage’s institutions.

Since the fall of the factions as organized or official powers within Sigil, it would appear that the guilds have
been making a resurgence in importance and visibility. Most of the guild houses lay in a rough circle around
the center of the ward, clustered near to the Great Gymnasium. Among other examples, both the Escort and
Touts Guild and the Builders Fellowship lie at opposite ends of Turtle Lane. Downwards some five blocks
from the Gymnasium stands the Council of Innkeepers on Shallowglass Lane, while the Order of Master
Clerks and Scribes sits nestled at the end of Dancer’s Court.

Gymnasium District

Surrounding the Great Gymnasium, the blocks immediately near to the former faction hall of the Ciphers lays
the Gymnasium District. Most of the members of the Transcendent Order still live here within walking distance
of the Gymnasium which most of them still visit on a daily basis. Most of the businesses in the area tend to
provide whatever is needed by those visiting the Gymnasium, including a number of smaller bathhouses,
saunas, and gyms for those wishing a quieter, less frequented place than the former faction hall. In addition,
many of the ward’s guilds already exist or are rapidly establishing both a presence and organized guildhall
within the district.

Great Gymnasium – Situated roughly in the center of the Guildhall Ward, the Great Gymnasium did, and still
does, function primarily as what its name implies. The calm beauty of the Great Gymnasium in many ways
rivals or exceeds the laurels given to the glory of other buildings of the ward, and indeed the city. The
gymnasium’s entire outer façade, and much of the inner structure, is built of a unique and evocative black
marble laced throughout with veins of gold and rose colored minerals. While before the Faction War the Great
Gymnasium was also the home of the Transcendent Order, it was and still is a place where most any basher
can go to improve their body by a great variety of physical activities.

The structure is composed of a grand front portico that rises up to front the central tower of the gymnasium.
The first level extends to both sides of the tower and back, while the second floor comprises the tower and a
top layer to the front of the left and right wings. The third and least frequented floor is that which comprises
the top of the tower.

Dominating one of the exterior walls of the Great Gymnasium is a gigantic painted mural, gifted without any
request for it nearly six years prior by a member of the Xaositects. Called simply the Painter, the tiefling up

114
and decided to paint the wall one day, following her winds of whimsy. In the end, she created one of the most
moving and beautiful paintings in all of Sigil. Abstract in nature, and as varied as the whims of the Painter
herself, two different bloods can look at it and claim to see a different pattern within its chaotic - or perhaps
simply complex - depths. Regardless of what one claims to see within it, it is evocative to most all that look
upon it, and the Ciphers were not in the least ungracious to the Xaositect who took it upon herself to gift it to
them for naught.

The first floor is dominated by the exercise field used for various martial arts and combat skills. The center of
the field also sports three pools, one hot, one warm, and one cold. Beyond the field is an inner portico used
for musical and other public artistic demonstrations and lectures. Past the portico are a number of separated
rooms for music, dancing, sculpting, and other artistic endeavors as well as sealed and warded rooms for
spellslingers to practice their arts without harming themselves or others in the process. Those who frequented
the old building still come for much the same, and aside from some of the faction high-ups wandering and
giving token words to those training or practicing (especially Rhys, who rarely says a word, but then usually
something profound), the former members of the Transcendent Order hold no more sway over the place than
any others.

The second level was previously filled with a number of meditation chambers, including one taking up most of
the floor called the Shared Meditation Chamber, and a few additional training rooms for use of faction
members only. Now open to the public, old members and new bashers seeking some calm from the bustle of
Sigil and their own lives frequent the chambers for quiet contemplation.

The Cadence of the Planes Chamber, a mysterious room once open only to highly placed Ciphers, is located
at the apex of the Gymnasium’s tower and now sits open to the public. Be that as it may, few besides those
Ciphers and those seeking them for training in the philosophy of the Transcendent Order frequently arrive to
utilize the room. It’s not advertised in the least by the new operators of the Gymnasium, seemingly out of
respect for the former owners, as a rush of berks seeking it out for their own ignorant curiosity would defeat
the purpose of the chamber. The chamber itself functions as a total sensory deprivation chamber. Inside, the
light is extinguished, temperature is held constant and cool, and slight, regulated air movements within keep
the atmosphere pleasant and calm. The Ciphers used some manner of magic to produce a constant levitation
field within, allowing a single user of the chamber to sit floating and undisturbed from everything but their own
heartbeat and thoughts. Or isolated from thoughts, as the Ciphers might say. Indeed some non-Ciphers who
have entered the chamber claim that not only does the Cadence Chamber seal off the user from sight and
sounds outside the room, but also isolates them from stray thoughts detectable by psionic individuals. Others
say they have sensed a dulling of magic within the chamber. Not quite an actual antimagic field, but
something removing the influence of any spells outside the chamber from being expressed within.

The Ciphers themselves claim to be able to use the Cadence of the Planes Chamber to remove the sounds,
influence, and distractions of the multiverse to let them listen to the Cadence of the Planes. By listening to the
heartbeat of the Cadence in time with their
own inner rhythm, they can act in harmony
with the multiverse, knowing what to do at any
given instant. The Cadence chamber still
stands, and while many dismiss the
metaphysical philosophy of the Ciphers, clearly
there’s something to the Cadence or the
chamber itself. After all, that same something
apparently told former Factol Rhys to simply
leave Sigil in order to avoid the the Faction
War. [Makes a cutter think... but then again,
that’s just what the Ciphers say holds you
back. – The Editor]

115
The Forest

Along Ritman Street, also termed Long Lane by some touts, lays a small conclave of elves, the one elven
racial conclave within the city. The same touts have come to jokingly refer to the squat as the “Forest”. The
community remains small, largely because most elves can’t stand the air and odd nature of the city’s
geography. Little exists to distinguish the area from the other neighborhoods of the city, save the population of
elves, though in the recent years they have taken to planting, without much success, a large number of trees
to surround the area.

Ghundarhavel

Yet another of Sigil’s racial enclaves is Ghundarhavel, the bariaur term for “home without grass”. The area
and its residents are remarkably cool to non-bariaur, and in response to their less than welcoming attitude,
the area has gained a second name from the ward’s touts: “Hoof Park”. The area has little draw for those of
other races, since most of the shops and inns cater to the tastes specifically of their bariaur clients, and thus
the food, spirits and even clothing offered is either unpalatable or unfeasible for others.

Curly-Top

This squat of halflings in the Guildhall Ward, run by the Cipher halfling Talun Underfoot (NG male halfling
Ftr3), surrounds an artificial burrow at its center. The burrow, built by Talun himself within several tons of soil
imported from some Prime world, serves as a nostalgic draw to the local halflings. The area is known for its
wide variety of restaurants including a nearby kip known as the Cutter’s Vineyard. The name for the
restaurant comes from a clever play upon words; the inn sits as the center building within a cluster of vacant
and razorvine choked kips. Diners eat upon the terraced roof overlooking the expanse of Curly-Top,
surrounded by the wild growing, as well as pruned and trimmed razorvine along the actual terraces of the
Vineyard itself.

Git’Riban / Githariban

The githyanki squat of Git’Riban, or Githariban, sits

sheltered away within the Guildhall Ward. Most of
the residents keep to themselves, and even when
venturing out they tend to travel in self-segregated
groups. This exaggerated cloistering of the githyanki
of the district is likely due to the relative proximity of
the githzerai squat of Darkwell Court, or even
rumors that the entire community consists of rogue
githyanki from the Astral in dereliction of their duties
or having forsworn the Lich-Queen. [As the githyanki
are typically neither stupid, nor suicidal, I find it
unlikely the squat forswore their queen. I find it more
likely, given that the community’s numbers have
changed little over the years, that it may exist as
nothing more than a grand scheme to draw in and
eliminate true rogue githyanki. Alas, I cannot prove
this with any certainty. As well, the recently reported
death of the Lich-Queen Vlaakith may foreshadow
coming changes to the community. – The Editor]

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 Market Ward

“What marks the Market Ward, and separates it from the Guildhall Ward? Simple. The Market Ward is filled
with my type of people, and the Guildhall Ward a little less so. Here in the Market Ward we make our way as
much on our own labor as we do on our intellect. I like that.

“I’ve been seeing less of the Ward lately though. And with that I’ve been seeing less of the bustle of the
traders, merchants and vendors, half of them paying me to hawk their own products for them. I’ve been
cooped up in the Clerk’s Ward, penned in with eight other cutters and berks. There only to speak my mind
and to make sure that those berks in the same ward get less chance to speak theirs with a bully pulpit under
them. Some say it suits me, but I still look forward to going back to my own kip down from the Great Bazaar
at the end of the day.” – Harys Hatchis

Two things dominate the Market Ward: money and the actions that make it flow between and grace the palms
of those making it. Buying, selling, and bargaining. Such is the language of the Market Ward.

The ward itself is less diverse than the other wards of the city, in terms of districts, anyways. Really only two
distinct districts exist in the Market Ward, which is sometimes grouped together with the Guildhall Ward,
despite the rising prominence of the latter.

The Market Ward, while smaller in size itself than other wards, is of such financial importance to the city it has
remained separate. Since the Tempest of Doors, however, much of the interplanar trading, especially that
handled by Estavan of the Planar Trading Consortium, has moved out of Sigil to the Outlands and other
routes free from the potential for the Lady’s disruption.

Copperman Way, cutting its way through the Market Ward from the Lady’s Ward, is the home of most of the
wealthier merchants and shopkeepers operating out of the Great Bazaar. In reality, it’s an imitation of the
Noble’s District one ward over, and most of the merchants along the street would dearly love to one day be
able to call the Noble’s District, or even another of the districts within the Lady’s Ward, home.

Dominating the ward itself is the Great Bazaar, sometimes erroneously called the Grand Bazaar. This
sprawling, open-air market serves as the heart of the ward and of most commerce in Sigil itself. Previously
the bazaar was the center of activity of the Free League. Many of the members of the league left Sigil
following the Tempest of Doors, but a large enough amount yet remain in the city that perhaps one in every
three sellers in the bazaar has some tie to the League or was a former member themselves. Even without
actual faction hierarchy, the loose network of the League yet exists and allows for the quick flow of
information and favorable business deals among associates within the League. This has made it difficult for
those not associated with the League from hedging their way into many contracts and trade agreements in
the ward. Primarily this has complicated issues not for smaller and individually owned businesses and
craftsmen, but for larger planar trade groups such as the Merkhant sect and the Planar Trade Consortium
under Estavan the Ogre Mage. This is likely to lead to fiercer conflict both in and out of the city in the coming
years. [Estavan still has ambition, fiercely so, despite his quite nature within Sigil of late, despite his goals
within the City of Doors effectively mangled by the manipulations of Zadara and Shemeska – The Editor]

The Great Bazaar, despite the efforts of both the Harmonium and the Fraternity of Order in the past, remains
a cluttered, sometimes confusing, ramshackle collection of merchants selling their wares and hawking their
products from established buildings, tents, pushcarts, and even from their own hands at a street corner. This
mercantile free-for-all sometimes may seem to be more than a bit chaotic, and if a cutter is searching for a
particular merchant or item, the best option is to seek out one of the many touts that wander the district, many
of them Free League members themselves. Even without a tout, with but a minimum of wandering through
the huge expanse of the Bazaar, one can find most anything from across the planes for the right amount of
jink. Everything can be found, from mundane foodstuffs from Bytopia, to the skull of a howler from the third

117
layer of Pandemonium, or a shard of black ice from Ocanthus in Acheron. But with the amount of jink passing
from palm to palm, and purse to purse, pickpockets from across the Cage are eager to help themselves to
their own portion of it, and a large number of them prey upon unwary shoppers to the ward using either
elaborate scams or simple pouch pilfering.

Warehouse District

The Warehouse District lies downwards from the Great Bazaar and consists of a twenty block by six-block
range, roughly speaking, of warehouses. Since the Tempest of Doors, the warehouses, once full to the brim
with trade goods and merchandise from a thousand different planar locales, now sit barely half full, their
holdings diverted to alternate trade routes in the Outlands and other planar trading burgs. With many of the
warehouses no longer in use, some have been abandoned or demolished and the district has been slowly
gaining in squatters and vagrants, holing themselves up in the empty buildings. The Free League has left well
enough alone for the most part, but a number of independent merchants have begun to move their own hired
thugs, including sizable contingents of those under the Aegis of the Minder’s Guild, into the area for the
purpose of flushing the unwanted and undesired out. It seems likely that this issue will be brought before the
Sigil Advisory Council in the near future, with the Minder’s Guild tasting blood on the water, and other
mercantile interests in Sigil, including more than one Golden Lord, eager to use it to slander the former
members of the Free League.

118
 The Lower Ward

“Sadly enough, the Lower Ward has been slipping in stature in the recent years and decades. Now with the
fall of the factions, especially with the Godsmen for the most part departing the city, the ward is liable to fall
into lower import as well.

“For a ward once known as the Prime Ward, back during the days of the Incanterium and the Clueless
Rebellion, and once one of the largest wards in Sigil, the Lower Ward has certainly fallen far from what it
once was. Now it seems it will be slowly absorbed in part by either the Hive or the Lady’s Ward. The powers
that be are seemingly eager to carve it apart like a roasted Quill at the dinner table, with all of them polishing
their metaphorical knives in relish.

“But the future is never a certain thing, and the intrigues of Sigil are by far not a reliable topic for any diviner
or sage, that is most definitely certain. What comes will come, and the workers, laborers, and shopkeepers of
the ward will remain, regardless of the name and classification.” – The Editor

Great Foundry District

About twelve blocks from the Great Foundry sits one of the ward’s curiosities, a small magic shop known as
the Friendly Fiend. Or rather, within the shop itself is the larger curiosity, the Friendly Fiend himself, A’kin the
Arcanoloth (N? male arcanoloth Sor6). A’kin, both proprietor and owner, tends to be as large a draw at times
as the contents of his shop itself.

The shop sells everything from barely magical baubles to animated objects of great value, as well as random
items gathered from across the planes to be used as spell components or simply because they look neat
upon a shelf collecting dust. A’kin seems to be able to get his claws on nearly anything a cutter inquires about
given some time, and he always does so with a smile.

That’s what makes him an enigma; the fiend seems to be genuinely friendly with most anyone wandering
through his shop. He’ll greet a customer, recognize them by name and face if they ever walk in a second
time, and he’ll inevitably just give them some small trinket for stopping by if it strikes their fancy. His
demeanor gets him customers just as much as his shop’s contents, but it also gets him a great number of
rumors and suspicious glares. After all, when was the last time ANYONE met a friendly fiend? It’s all an act
right? Well, maybe, and maybe not. None have ever in the centuries he’s been in Sigil seen him act like a
typical Yugoloth, even so much as see him act surly on a bad day. He’s just always genuinely cheerful and
talkative. It might just be a healthy way of spying on customers and their activities within the ward, or as some
have suggested he may be an outcast of his own race for whatever reason, up to and even possibly including
the fact that he may even be a risen fiend. A’kin doesn’t like to talk about his past, or the rumors about
himself, and inevitably he just shrugs and soon enough the conversation is slid back to the health of the
questioner and current happenings in their life.

One thing is known however: for whatever reason, he’s absolutely loathed by Sigil’s other resident arcanoloth,
Shemeska the Marauder. She’s been known to fly into public fits if he’s mentioned in the same breath as her.
Fallen out compatriots? Former or current lovers? Siblings? Some combination of the above? Who knows,
since neither is talking. She scowls and raves, and he just smiles as he dusts his shelves and asks about his
customers. [A’kin didn’t have anything much to say about the rumors that as always regard him, but he did
manage to sell a number of animated dolls to his interviewer, and gave them a few Arcadian mints before
sending the confused truth seeker on their way with a smile. – The Editor]

Moving on, just spireward of the Armory, but still a healthy number of blocks away, the neighborhoods grow
seedier as the residents tend to be more worker than artisan, and more fiend than otherwise. Here, along
Ironmonger Street, is the tavern and often riot in the making, the Styx Oarsman. Primarily a Tanar’ri bar, it
also serves Yugoloths, but refuses to so much as let Baatezu through the heavily barred and guarded doors.

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The inn is the haunt of many a fiendish criminal, crosstrader, fence, and among the most famous of them is
Rule-Of-Three. The wizened, one-eyed githzerai often finds his name associated, but never proven, with
many a number of crimes and Tanar’ri plots in the ward and across the Cage. [Githzerai? He’s more a fiend
than half the patrons of the Oarsman. And he’s not of the friendly variety, take my word. Though he gets
things done if you don’t mind listening to, or otherwise talking to him in patterns of three. – The Editor]

The Great Foundry - The source of the ever present dusting of ash, soot, and smog that blankets the
majority of the Lower Ward in its ever present yellow haze, the Great Foundry continues to belch forth the
wastes of the forges and furnaces within. It and the district that surrounds it sits at the very center of the
Lower Ward, with everything else clustered around and usually in some way relating to the production, sale,
and distribution of its smokestack birthed fruits.

By far the largest structure in the Lower Ward, the Great Foundry was formerly the faction headquarters of
the Believers of the Source as well as the source of most of Sigil’s indigenous metalwork and smithing. After
the Faction War, the Believers of the Source, faced with their factol having been sent to the Mazes by the
Lady, dissolved and many of them formed a new faction with members of the Sign of One called the Mind’s
Eye. As such, they abandoned their former faction hall and for a time the forges grew cold and silent, the first
such occurrence in centuries, by the reckoning of the residents of the Lower Ward. Eventually the Foundry
auctioned off by the Sigil Advisory Council to pay off lingering debts of the faction to its former creditors and
suppliers. Interestingly, the Foundry was bought for an undisclosed sum, possibly fronted by a third party, by
a group of bladelings from the city of Zoronor in Acheron. The enigmatic cutters promptly claimed the
Foundry, rekindled the forge flames, and set about the same work the Godsmen had previously performed.
Things have seemingly returned to business as usual for the Lower Ward, if with a much altered face to it.
The bladelings within the Foundry are rather insular, but their wares are at the least comparable to those that
had produced by the Believers of the Source. Upon commission, the bladelings are willing to produce
weapons and armor of the highest quality, each with a distinctive and alien quality in their engraved or forged
designs.

The kips surrounding the foundry have

suffered the majority of the pollution
from the exhaust of the Foundry. The
air quality is worse, and many of the
residents here, excluding the fiends,
inevitably suffer from respiratory
problems due to living in such close
proximity to the former Godsmen
faction hall. The several month hiatus
in the Foundry’s operation did
momentarily improve the surrounding
air quality, but only about as much as
the periodic opening of portals to the
Elemental Plane of Air tend to do
anyways. [Or winds off the Spire,
depending on who you ask, not that
the process is frequent enough
regardless of its origin. – The Editor]
The recent rekindling of the forges by
an incoming bladeling clan has once
more belched smoke back into the
skies over the ward, giving it its familiar
perpetual twilight haze.

120
Shattered Temple District

At the edge of the Lower Ward, situated close to the Hive and adjacent to the Ditch, stands the Shattered
Temple District, so named for the former faction hall of the Athar and former cathedral of Aoskar. Twice now it
appears Her Serenity has disposed of the residents of the district, most recently the Athar, but also,
uncounted centuries ago, the clergy of Aoskar and the power of portals himself in a mere seconds long
massacre of screams and blades amid Her flickering shadow...

The obliteration of the temple of Aoskar and the surrounding blocks in all directions gave the district a
reputation as cursed and haunted, blighted by Her Serenity. As such, the district, aside from the former Athar
occupation, was never redeveloped in following centuries. However, along the circumference of the district’s
edges a hearty number of boarding houses, inns, and shops sprung up to service the Lost and those seeking
out the district for its resident faction or simply the legends surrounding it. These businesses yet survive, but
time will tell if they can survive with the Athar banished from the Cage.

More activity has come to the district in the past year as Friar Muriov Garianis, of the Garianis family, has
claimed the Shattered Temple grounds as his own and publicly stated his intent to demolish the structure and
build a grand temple to his own power, Hades. [Much is likely to come of this. Truth be my word, conflict is
coming to the ward. And to further educate my readers, a bit more on the history, past and present of the
Shattered Temple – The Editor]

The Shattered Temple – Currently a flurry of activity in the ward surrounds the former Athar citadel known as
the Shattered Temple, formerly the grand cathedral of the deity of planewalkers, portals, and opportunity
known as Aoskar. After the mazing of Factol Terrance of the Athar, the majority of the Lost fled Sigil and now
find themselves camped at the only other place of sanctuary in the multiverse from the wrath of the powers
they railed against for so long: the base of the Spire in the Outlands. A few of the Athar remained, however,
and work to inform their brethren in the Outlands of the events in Sigil as they attempt to regain control of
their former headquarters in the City of Doors.

The Shattered Temple appears from the exterior as a broken and barely standing sanctuary of crumbling
stone, ancient and fallen from the beauty it once held. Its stone arches and spires may once have reached up
to the sky, but now reach up barely
a few stories and end at broken or
severed ends. Nevertheless, even
in its state of apparent decay the
place is still evocative of faded
glory.

Within, the temple is anything but

shattered, and multiple wardings
support the exterior stone and
grant it strength beyond what it
may have possessed originally.
The interior is splendid, if cramped,
and the Athar utilized the former
gallery and rectories as scribing
chambers for producing the tracts
and leaflets they used to attempt to
undermine the faith of the
inhabitants of the Cage in the
powers they deemed false and
unworthy of both worship and the
title of divine.

121
Surrounding the Shattered Temple is a wasteland of abandoned buildings that appear much like the level of
destruction present in the Slags further towards the Hive, across the Ditch that flows within sight of the
Temple. Whatever force destroyed the surrounding blocks did so utterly, and as legend goes, did so in the
space of seconds. The ruins have always been considered cursed or unhealthy and were mostly abandoned,
much to the delight of the Athar who enjoyed the respite from their enemies among the faithful and their
clergies within Sigil.

The layout of the temple is of a main sanctuary, ensconced with the crumbled listing buttresses at the center
of four great terraces in the cardinal directions, and the old temple wings to the aft of the main entrance
downwards from the sanctuary, each flanking left and right and used as refectory and scriptorium by the
former faction.

Beyond the old temple wings, at the center of the ruins, lays the former grand sanctuary of Aoskar, now
barren but for a crumbled husk that was once the great Tree of the Athar, the Bois Verdurous, and perhaps an
object of their faith in something beyond the divine pretenders of the multiverse. After its apparent destruction
in the heat of the Faction War it has withered away to its present state, though the entire area still glows with
a diffuse but potent radiance of divine magic.

Surrounding the sanctuary are the libraries, offices, and chambers of the faction high-ups, including Factol
Terrance himself. Flanking the sanctuary stand the Piebald Tower, Rust Tower, Glisten Tower, and the Fallen
Tower, the origin of their names lost to the long stretch of years. It was here, between the Fallen and Glisten
Towers, that the Athar possessed a portal that rumors suggest once went either to the Athar citadel in the
Astral or actually opened upon the rocky godisle that is Aoskar’s remains, also drifting through the Silvery
Void.

Finding the Shattered Temple abandoned by the Athar, Friar Muriov Garianis, a cleric of Hades, and Oridi
Malefin, a cleric of death and current factol of the Dustmen, have made known their plans to raze the temple
to the ground and rebuild in its place a grand temple to Hades. Most of the trappings of the Athar have been
set aside or destroyed by Friar Garianis, all of it a heresy in his
views, and he soon intends to begin the destruction of the
temple if there is no intervention. The Athar faithful (as much as
that term can be applied to them) have not taken this news
lightly, and something of a war may be brewing in the ward as
some of the more hotheaded and reactionary Athar make
themselves and their terrific displeasure at this affront known.

Beneath the ruins of the temple, workers in the employ of the

friar have discovered a network of catacombs and tunnels, some
apparently used by the Athar and others perhaps dating back to
the time of the original worship of Aoskar. Little information has
petered out from the excavations, perhaps for fear of evoking
the Lady’s wrath, attracting looters, or garnering further negative
attention from the Lost.

[The planned destruction of the Shattered Temple has been put

on hold it seems, perhaps either from threats of violence from
the Lost, or perhaps following the reports of workers in the vaults
beneath its sanctuary. It seems that they may have found
something that the friar feels is important enough, or disturbing
enough, to warrant a pause in his plans. Perhaps some relic
from the time of Aoskar, or perhaps the roots of the Bois
Verdurous grow deep, and still live beneath the flagstones of the
temple. – The Editor]

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Garianis District

Adjacent to the Shattered Temple District, running from roughly the Mortuary in the Hive to New Market and
Gear Run in the Lower Ward, stands the Garianis District. Here the neighborhoods of workers and artisans
fall less under the sway of Sigil’s official peacekeepers, both the Harmonium in the past and the current
juxtaposition of the City Watch, Minders Guild and Sons of Mercy. The district is so named for the Garianis
family that provides “protection and security” to its locals in exchange for donations and security money.
Sigil’s establishment has long regarded the Garianis family as little better than common knights of the post
seeking to establish themselves as true Golden Lords in the model of the crosstraders of the Lady’s Ward.
Indeed the family has grown wealthy in the past decades, especially under the patronage of their elder
statesman, the Friar Muriov Garianis, but it is unlikely they will succeed as far as their expectations fly.

In any case, criminal or not, the local population appears to genuinely appreciate them to the point of keeping
them safe largely from Sigil’s business and crime authorities in the Lady’s Ward. The district, with its large
number of prime immigrants, situated between other small racially distinct enclaves, prides itself on a more
insular nature, with residents keeping to themselves, and keeping loyalty to the cutters that hold local power
under the Garianis family banner.

Little Bytopia

Situated on the spireward end of the Lower Ward sits a small sheltered community of gnomes known locally
as Little Bytopia. The gnomes are friendlier to outsiders and non-gnomes than the nearby dwarven
community, but can still be peery at times. Regardless, the district produces a fine number of local handicrafts
including clockwork devices, alchemical products, and a variety of Bytopian style wines and spirits. [The latter
of these products likely accounts for the amiable relations between adjacent gnome and dwarf enclaves. –
The Editor]

Adjacent to Little Bytopia, just downwards several blocks, stands the brilliantly painted, yellow-green tavern
the Green Mill, situated amid an actual grove of trees in the dark heart of the Lower Ward. Attracting many
planar elves and Eladrin from across the Cage, as well as Prime Material humans, elves, half-elves, and even
some Ysgardian bariaurs, the inn is a nostalgic relief to its
customers. Famous for live bardic music and its
extravagant and gorgeous interior decorated to look and
smell like a Prime Material forest, it is one of the ward’s
more pleasant and unique spots. [Not that the fiends share
the feelings on the place. – The Editor]

Gurincraag

Several blocks away from Little Bytopia stands a similar

sized community composed primarily of dwarves. The
community is extremely close knit, more so than most in
the Cage, and even dwarves must integrate themselves
into the community on their own efforts before being fully
accepted. The dull gray stone of the mostly one or two
story kips seems to make the name of the district a
gnome’s idea of a joke on the dwarves, for the name is
loosely translated as “Dwarven Mountain”. [Faced with little
room for further kips in the district, more immigration from
the Outlands, and a few Prime worlds, the dwarves simply
built down instead of out... - The Editor]

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Hellgate

This Baatezu neighborhood, formerly situated between three portals to Baator, has seen itself shrink in recent
years as two of its portals vanished during the Tempest of Doors. The population was also hit hard from the
locals’ heavy involvement in the rioting and open street warfare against the Tanar’ri residents of the ward
during that same period. But the squat still exists, if smaller, and is still rife with the local political intrigues of
the resident Baatezu. As old rumors die hard, the chant in the local taverns yet claims the presence of one or
more pit fiends in the bowels of the district. [Amazing how the fiends’ names change with each telling through
the years. There can’t be that many pit fiends in Nessus, by the way the locals babble their screed. – The
Editor]

Gear Street

Gear Street, or Gear Run, as the district is sometimes called, is a rather unique neighborhood of a large
number, relatively speaking, of rogue modrons that have taken up residence within the Cage. Alongside the
rogue modrons are the largest concentrated grouping of zenythri within Sigil as well. Like attracts like, and the
two similarly minded groups have prospered in recent years.

Looking much like a section of one of the great gears of Mechanus stuck into Sigil, outsiders, especially those
with a chaotic bent, simply don’t fit into the modrons’, well, clockwork community. Aside from the curiosity of
the squat, a basher can find a number of obscure clockwork machines and inventions peddled by the
modrons, as well as other tooled items crafted to any exact specificity he could require. Being near paragons
of Law, the modrons set prices in fair range for their needs, and exactly to their needs, no more, no less.
Cheating simply isn’t a lawful action to them; of course neither will a cutter find here the haggling ever present
in the markets elsewhere in the ward and Cage at large.

The prime attraction within Gear Run however is the so-called Hands of Time, a piece of almost living
clockwork complete with moving sections, gears, and pendulums. The modrons treat it half as a shop to
outsiders to share the beauty of their clockwork devices and machines, and half as a temple to order, or to
the plane of Mechanus itself. The shop is widely trafficked by lawful bloods of all variety as well, and oddly
enough is run not by a modron, but by a prime human and former Guvner named Saddam Hasan Ibn Arvalas,
who claims to hail from Toril. Any manner of construct can be obtained within, though his waiting list for
potential customers is long indeed. [Ask him about his mentor Trobriand back on Toril. – The Editor]

The Temple of Pallid Doors - Somewhere in the back alleys of the Lower Ward there lays a small
abandoned building, described by some who’ve seen it as a ruined, defaced temple. Thing is, none can seem
to reliably find their way back there. It’s almost as if the kip moves around
within the district, or even the ward itself, when it doesn’t want to be found.
Mappers and portal seekers have walked around the ward for hours at a
time without seeing anything reasonably similar to the site, or even the
buildings it was said to have been found nestled between, usually at the
end of a long blind alley. Most reports of the building have come from the
drunk, barmy, or simply those lost among unfamiliar streets when the
smog from the foundry gets too terribly thick to see very far.

The general description of these cutters details the building as being little
more than a two-story tower or pagoda, the roof partially collapsed over
time, and constructed from some unremarkable gray, whitewashed stone.
A fine layer of ash usually coats the walls and floor inside the building and
out into the alleyway. A symbol of sorts, possibly a holy symbol at one
time, seems to have graced the lintel above the doorway, but has faded
with time or due to purposeful defacement.

124
A sense of uneasy foreboding extends from the place, and animals are reportedly spooked and refuse to
enter. Magical animals, such as familiars, share a similar feeling but at prodding of their masters have entered
to no apparent ill effect. Inside, people report an empty sanctuary with stone pews and a simple stone block
of an altar below the collapsed portion of the tower. Two empty rooms branch off from the sanctuary, neither
showing sign of recent usage. Others have reported dead insects and vermin at the doorways, always facing
outwards as if they died running from something, but there are never markings of violence on the insect
husks and desiccated animals.

One story is that the temple contains a number of curious permanent portals including those to the layer of
Oinos on the Gray Waste, the layer of Mungoth on Gehenna, and to the layer of Belarian on Elysium. But as
portal seekers never seem to find the kip to even confirm it exists, this remains unproven, even as to where
this dark or screed concerning the portals first originated. In fact, aside from similar curious, and possibly
spurious stories about random Cagers and clueless stumbling across the ruined kip, no official records
indicate that it does now or ever has existed at any point in Sigil’s history. Then again, Sigil’s history gets very
hazy the further back one searches, and the temple may be both so incredibly old that it has been forgotten
along with whatever was once worshipped there. Whatever its origins, the place doesn’t seem to not want to
be found by those searching for it, and many have come to the conclusion it doesn’t exist at all. [Truth is
oftentimes stranger than fiction. Mark my word it does exist. – The Editor]

125
 The Hive

“The Hive exists as an open sore upon the face of proud Sigil. And we, the better off residents of the Cage
are like a bitter old woman, our years of glory beyond us now, but our vanity and pride still held high enough
that we ignore the festering wound upon our countenance. We have none to blame for the very existence of
the Hive but ourselves. Better off, we seem more apt to ignore it. Hide it from the light, seal it off and hope the
problem, and the people trapped within its confines, simply vanish like so much cooking smoke. But like the
smoke fires and belching pollution of the Great Foundry, it lingers in the air and permeates everything if
ignored. It does not vanish, but spreads like acrid smog to blight us all, even in the high houses of the Golden
Lords of The Lady’s Ward. Even as Sigil opens itself to every plane of existence, the Hive is secreted away,
sealed off as if it weren’t truly a part of the City of Doors at all. Abandoned by all but a saintly few, it is cast
aside with instruction to improve, yet with no way of bettering itself.

“A blind man cannot see nor a lame man walk of their own volition. The hand of an able passerby is needed
for that inspiration or aid to return them to wellness so that they may finally fend for themselves. Too often we
ignore them, and in our jaded hypocrisy expect them to walk unaided. The misery and human refuge of the
Hive exists because we enable it to exist.” - Jeena Ealy, author of Of Darkest Sigil.

The Slags

The Slags, even more so than the devastation surrounding the Shattered Temple within the Lower Ward, is a
literal blighted wasteland within Sigil. Untold millennia ago a portal to Sigil opened into the heart of a Blood
War battlefield upon the Grey Waste, and for whatever reason the Tanar’ri forces seemed to think the portal a
purposeful gift to them leading to either a sanctuary for their forces or a depository of weapons and supplies.
And so, utilizing typical Tanar’ri logic, they led their forces en masse through this unknown and uncalled for
portal, directly into the heart of Sigil. The Baatezu involved in the battle, not to be denied a victory over their
eternal foes, followed suit and both armies spilled out into the Cage. Thousands of fiends spilled over into the
cities like a tide of blood, fire, and iron, and fell to butchering each other, as well as the horrified residents of
the ward, and tearing apart the city in search of the weapons or other supposed stashed supplies.

The fighting raged for nearly a week before Her Serenity, in logic as elusive as that which allowed them within
Sigil to begin with, ejected the warring armies back to the Lower Planes. Still, the district was all but leveled,
strewn with bodies, the twisted wrecks of fiendish siege engines, and the remnants of the armies that were
not sent back for whatever reason, some of which linger to this day. The district has yet to be rebuilt in all that
time, between the frequent cagequakes that make any attempted building repairs an exercise in futility, and
the infestations of dretches, manes, vargoulles, cranium rats, and a mystery called Kadyx.

Kadyx, or The Kadyx, has existed in the Slags as something of a blood soaked enigma, given credit for
infrequent and typically unique murders within the Slags. A body might enter the Slags and be found later with
his bones picked clean and arranged into a play on words of his own name, or dressed in his own entrails,
stitched together in a mockery of finery as if he were late for an evening dinner party. Thing is, none have
seen Kadyx enough to give a reliable description other than fangs, claws, perhaps some ebony black scales,
the scent of cinnamon, and that it appears to be able to burrow into the earth. It is also somehow capable of
avoiding all manner of magical scrying and other such divinations. It might simply not exist, and be a legend
used to mask the killings of criminals within the Hive and Lower Ward, perhaps the Garianis family even. Like
many such tales, the answer is likely to remain dark. [More horrors beyond imagining have arisen in the midst
of the Blood War, but when one is abandoned by its makers... - The Editor]

Of recent note is an upswing in the numbers of cranium rats seen in and around the Slags, and even more
so, fights between small groups of them have been rumored as well. Inevitably, the original sources of such
rumors never seem to be found. It is not uncommon to find the bodies of beggars or criminals found at the
edges of the district, nearly drained of blood from a thousand tiny cuts and slashes as if from the bites of a

126
swarm of vermin. Oddly enough are the fights between such groups of vermin as the beasts are said to share
a common hivemind, linked to some unseen master. [Odd to think what this might bode within a house
divided. – The Editor]

Marble District

Spikeward from the Gatehouse, just beyond the sprawl of beggars and slums that rings the Gatehouse for a
number of blocks, the Hive actually contains a relatively well-kept district. Known as the Marble District, for its
cluster of a few blocks of gray and white marble buildings, it’s a spot of relative calm and civilization inside the
ocean of urban wasteland it barely rises above.

Most official government buildings in the ward reside in the Marble District, as well as a branch of the
Minder’s Guild that has taken to selling their services to a number of alehouses and less reputable members
of the Hive’s so-called society. In addition, a number of shops and taverns that sell quality goods and ale, not
the watered down swill popular elsewhere in the ward, and the walled in kips of several jink-laden bloods of
the ward call the Marble District home. Principal among these businesses are Benni’s Tap, a favorite drinking
spot for the knights of the ward, eager to spend their jink and not have to sit next to unwashed, or in the case
of some bars in the gray district, undead bubbers.

At the edge of the district, away from the official buildings, yet separated from the rest of the ward, a number
of boarding houses and fairly well maintained tenement homes are called kip by most of the skilled craftsman
and honest shopkeepers and peddlers of the ward at large. Near the spikeward end of the district lies Black
Boot Walk, frequently better lit than the Marble District, if only for the Hivers’ tendency to set abandoned kips
on fire, typically within view of the high-ups in the Marble District. The Minders Guild may be set loose upon
the area in force in coming months, fueled by the district’s jink and their own harsh sense of order. [An island
within a sea, and the deluge threatens to inundate... - The Editor]

The Mortuary – Perhaps the oldest of the former faction halls, the Great Mortuary sits like a great bladed and
spiked scarab between Blackshade Lane and the so-called Ragpickers Square within the heart of the Grey
District in Sigil’s Hive. Appearing as a single great dome with several adjacent towers, it looks somber and
uncaring just like the former faction that operated it, many of whom continue to operate it.

Adjacent to the Mortuary, sprouting off of its main bulk are a number of mostly featureless mausoleums only
accessible from within the Mortuary itself, as well as a large public memorial. This memorial sits within a half-
walled courtyard, in the center of which stands a single spike of flat black stone. Upon the stone, scratched,
etched, and carved in
tiny print are the
names of the dead
who have passed
through the gates of
the Mortuary. A dead
cutter’s relatives can
pay a few coins to
have the sod’s name
inscribed for all
eternity upon the face
of the stone, though
this requires writing
over some other
berk’s name at this
point.

127
The Mortuary functioned then and now just as its name implies, it took in the corpses and remains of Sigil’s
dead, prepared them for claim by relatives of the deceased, and cremated the dead of the city’s unclaimed.
Prior to the Tempest of Doors a great portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire sat at the heart of the Mortuary,
and it was through this that many of the unclaimed bodies of the city were hurled to be immolated and
disposed of.

The first level of the Mortuary contained a great hall in which visitors waited to claim the bodies of the dead or
attend funerary proceedings. The rest of the floor was dotted with a number of memorial halls for the
presentation of noted dead awaiting burial. In the past some of the side chambers held a dormitory for faction
members, as well as a chamber for faction records and the faction library.

The second floor contained preparation rooms for the dead, as well as the faction armory, further interment
chambers, and the offices of the faction high-ups. These officiating chambers sit mostly empty now, their
office holders either mazed, in Skall’s case, or departed to the faction’s citadel upon the Negative Energy
Plane.

The highest chamber of the Mortuary contained the massive portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire, as well as
a scattering of other portals, including one to the faction’s citadel. Furthermore, the factol’s private quarters
and a laboratory remain here today, mostly unchanged since the war. After the Lady’s Edict, most of the
faction members, having little to no emotion, simply went about continuing their old business just as before,
but now without calling themselves a faction proper.

Additionally, and only having become common knowledge recently, the lower levels of the Mortuary
connected to a warren of catacombs of the entombed dead which also connected in parts to the uncounted
miles of UnderSigil’s tunnels, vaults, and forgotten passages. But of most interest in the bowels of the
Mortuary were the great number of portals that allowed the Dustmen access to numerous planes throughout
the multiverse. Through these portals the faction was able to ship out the bodies of those deceased who
wished to be returned to life back on their planes of origin, as unnatural as many in the faction held such
magics to be.

Some of the former Dustmen wandering the halls of the Mortuary have of late claimed to see an image of
their former factol walking the quiet halls. Usually the witnesses claim to have seen his figure turning a corner,
or passing just out of sight from the edges of their vision. Nevertheless these witnesses all swear upon the
concept of the True Death that it was in fact Skall. Truth or screed? Skall was mazed, and it is unlikely any
may escape from those personal hells without outside aid or the will of Her Dread Majesty. On the other hand,
the Dead aren’t exactly known for their motivation to make up a lie such as this, or to make up any other tale
for that matter. [For being mazed, Skall certainly seems a spry old fellow. Be it truth or screed I cannot say,
but within Sigil the impossible is witnessed everyday, so I will not pass judgment here. Either Skall has found
a way to project himself, or an image of himself, out of his maze, or there is a pretender within the Mortuary.
Time will tell. – The Editor]

Gray District

Just spireward from the Mortuary lays the drab, and some say menacing, Gray District, home to many of the
Dustmen that operate the Mortuary. Of course, with the changes in the portals within the Mortuary, it may not
retain its use forever.

Common sights within this district are the sullen, emotionless Dustmen who linger still, not possessed of the
motivation to do anything else, even after the “disbanding” of their faction. Zombies, skeletons, and even
wights, among other undead are seen wandering the district as well, typically in tow with one of the yet living
Mortuary workers.

128
For being in the Hive proper, and not the Lower Ward, the streets and kips populating the area are clean,
well-tended and free of refuse and razorvine. Old habits die hard, and despite the bland and perhaps
disturbing aspects of the buildings and residents, the area is much safer than most other areas of the Hive
aside from some of the insular racial enclaves. Things appear to be deteriorating, however, in the wake of the
Faction War some five years ago, and it is likely that in time the Grey District will be swallowed up by the rest
of the Hive and lose its distinct flavor.

Darkwell Court

The stretch of kips known as Darkwell Court lies between Whisper Way and Sandstone Row in the edge of
the Hive closest to the Clerk’s Ward. This community and its peery-sounding name are home to the largest
population of githzerai in Sigil, and true to form, the insular bashers have constructed a slice of their monastic
society from Limbo within Sigil. None of the typical spiked, razorvine wrapped, bladed eaved kips common to
the rest of Sigil. Instead, the homes are dull, flat-roofed, rarely over a single story high, and rounded in
places. The wizened matriarch of the community, Divin Anesh (LN female githzerai Wiz10) controls everything
within the tight-knit court, more or less, and those wishing to do much beyond simply walking through the
court would do well to request to speak with her.

Khaasta Row

This small neighborhood, adjacent to Darkwell Court, is the home of a number of the reptilian Outlands
species known as khaasta. The group, knowing full well their reputation among most Cagers as a race of
mercenaries, barbarians, and raiders, rightly fears retribution from less than trusting neighbors. Faced with
this local opinion they keep mainly to themselves and rarely bother others, especially the githzerai nearby,
who at worst seem content with their neighbors who share the same “keep to themselves” attitude.

The Ditch

Sigil’s only body of water, if one can call it that most of the time, sits at the edge of the Lower Ward and the
Hive, serving as a convenient boundary for the two. Refuse is constantly dumped into the waters that range
from a bare, sluggish trickle at worst, to a clear running river when some hidden portal to Oceanus opens on
random occasion and flushes the stagnant contents.

Normally, however, the ditch is filled with a slow moving, stagnant bilge, bobbing with rotting corpses, kitchen
scraps, and all manner of refuse hurled into it for easy disposal by the neighboring residents. Rag pickers and
dead collectors hover around the banks nightly to pick through the daily trash left upon the banks or bobbing
near the surface in the hopes of making a few copper from some trinket tossed into the mix or sell the bodies
to the Mortuary, which still pays a pittance for the dead.

Some have described the Ditch as the concept of a river, some abstraction of the idea of a Prime Material
body of flowing water. And being the Outer Planes, who’s to say it’s not correct? What ordinary body of water
has mildly to heavily corrosive water five out of every six days, with the sixth day more likely than not being
frozen over at the surface? It isn’t ordinary or mundane by any stretch of the imagination. You won’t find a
single water genasi lingering around the Ditch either, though they flock like mice to cheese when the portal to
Oceanus opens on those rare occasions. Some have postulated that it may be a tributary of the Styx itself,
but none have ever reliably claimed to see a marraenoloth plying a skiff on its banks. [Not to say the Styx
doesn’t have any tributaries within Sigil, one just has to know where to look. – The Editor] Rumors also hold
that each night the dabus congregate upon the banks of the Ditch to push trash and other such detritus into
the river to be flushed in the periodic cleansing of the trough. Then, there is the Ditch Beast.

129
Some say the Ditch Beast is a legend and myth, a creation of the barmies and bubbers on the Hive side of
the stinking waters. Others claim to have seen the creature just barely cresting over the water, devouring
corpses and dragging in unwary sods, but only in the dim hours before and after anti-peak. Truth be told, the
Beast may not exist at all and simply be an illusion, some sort of animated Rebus created by the Dabus who
congregate upon its banks at night, all in order to keep locals from interfering with their necessary tasks.

Probably of more danger to the unwary who find themselves wandering close to the waters of the Ditch are
the wererats who answer to Tattershade (CE male human wererat Rog5/Ftr4) their self proclaimed king.
Chant holds that he lives somewhere in a warren of tunnels within UnderSigil that open to the surface near
the spireward end of the Ditch. Visitors to his realm beneath the streets, paid to repair the tunnels and ward
them against intruders, have claimed that the passages in some places are formed of a different color rock
than typical of the Great Below. They claim that the rock takes upon a marbled consistency and color, and
proves impossible to damage or otherwise mold by hand or by spell. These areas seem to be riddled with
small, branched chambers, much like the inner hollows of a human’s lung, and give the uncomfortable
sensation of walking within some vast, living, creature of stone.

The chant further claims that Tattershade either took possession of parts of his underground realm from the
dabus by force, or more commonly that he came across the realm, devoid of dabus or any other creatures
and claimed it as his own. How this fits into the wererat king’s current obsession with his own safety, his
supposed hiding from something in fear of his mortal life, or his rumored search for something there in the
catacombs of UnderSigil is unknown. [Why would the dabus abandon something? Perhaps they have not, or
perhaps it has nothing to do with the dabus at all. UnderSigil is a largely unmapped and vast unknown. Some
claim that the Realm Below is larger still than the streets of Sigil in size and scope. I will not dispute this
claim. – The Editor]

Another site of interest, alternately described as existing on the Lower Ward or Hive side of the Ditch, is the
Bones of Old Night, the dwelling place of Lothar, Master of the Bones (N male human Clr25 of Death). Public
knowledge on the esteemed cutter is scant, save that he prides himself as a loremaster without peer in Sigil,
likely willing to place himself against any given, Guvner, Sensate, or both in terms of the darks stored within
his bonebox. Cutters in need of specific bits of dark may do well to seek him out. The entrance to his warren
under the streets of Sigil appears as the burned out shell of a kip with a single, round stained glass window,
perfect in form amid the shambles around it. But those seeking him out should not be surprised to find him
asking a favor in return, usually of benefit to him more than the dark he provides. [He appreciates his privacy
however, and so too will I respect it largely and end my descriptions here. – The Editor]

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Madhouse District

Surrounding the Gatehouse stands the Madhouse District. The blocks of tenements and kips radiating out
away from the hill atop which the Gatehouse stands are awash in the filth of the true aspects of the Hive: the
poor, the hungry, the apathetic, and the barmy. The smell of human excrement and bub sting the nostrils, and
an outsider wandering through the district is likely to be swarmed by beggars asking for food, drink, or coin for
both. Pickpockets and thieves abound, eager to bob a cutter simply for having what they do not. [A display of
arms can be useful in this section of the Hive – The Editor] This district epitomizes human misery at its worst.
The sick, hungry, and hopeless still queue day in and day out to seek refuge and temporary respite from their
ills with the Bleakers within the Gatehouse, and the lines may reach down from the hill and into the rest of the
district. Their situation is unlikely to change soon, even with a cutter such as Jeena Ealy upon the Sigil
Advisory Council.

One of the more notable, and utterly unofficial, spots within the district is the so-called Night Market,
somewhere between Lot’s Lane and Laughing Cat Alley. Just like the Great Bazaar, but with a darker side,
the Night Market sells goods and services, but nothing therein has a name or a past. Don’t inquire as to the
origin of any of the goods, or the names of any who might be hired for a service. It’s better that way. [Inquire
about Retzz and ask if he still deals in inks and parchments. If you’re aware of his trade already, you might
seek him out. – The Editor]

Nearly in the Slags themselves, sitting on their edge along Shatterbone Street within the Madhouse District,
sits the Weary Spirit Infirmary and the Boneyard Pond behind it. Within, Ridnir Tetch, a Bleaker, tends to the
sick and injured for no cost, and even provides those awaiting his care with food and shelter. Tetch doesn’t
believe in magical healing, and maintains that the mundane surgical techniques developed mainly by his own
random practice upon patients are the true panacea of healing. The Boneyard pond behind the Infirmary is
piled high with those not surviving their injuries, or his ‘care’, ‘till it is picked clean nightly by the collectors
anyways. [What harm is it to kill a sod when he comes to you for help? And why shed a tear or even care
when you firmly believe there is no meaning in the multiverse? That’s Tetch’s creed. – The Editor]

One of the other oddities of the district is the new feature near the center of Laughing Cat Alley, near the
Night Market. A bowl-shaped depression roughly a hundred yards across that contains the street, and now
one building sinking into it. The adjacent structure, a now collapsed flophouse, is a pile of rubble lining one
side of the sinkhole. Travel along the street has been slowed, but not stopped. What bothers many is that the
depression was once a slight rise in the middle of the street. As it goes, a number of years prior, there once
stood a freestanding arch of black stone in the center of the street containing a portal to one of the layers of
Baator. The frequent passing of hellhounds and other, less welcome, visitors to the ward finally became too
much of a burden to the factions and so they toppled the archway and paved the current street over it. The
latest feature of the alley begs the question: did the toppling of the archway cause the portal to cease its
intermittent function, or has it remained active all these years, with perhaps something now lingering under
the city streets biding its time. The factions no longer exist officially to investigate, and the Hive dwellers could
care less until a gang of Baatezu rips their way up from below, so the status quo is likely to continue as the
depression expands even more.

The Gatehouse – The Gatehouse, former faction hall of the Bleak Cabal, sits atop a slight hill in the Hive,
rising above the reek and filth of the slums that sprawl out around it along the edges of Bedlam Run. This
massive structure sits just at the edge of the Hive, on one side nearly overlooking the urban wasteland of the
Slags, in range of the stink carried on the wind, if not actual sight. On the opposite side it sits adjacent the
Marble District of the Hive, and within actual sight of the Ditch, the filth-strewn canal that separates the Hive
from the Lower Ward.

The center of the structure appears as a great semicircular, roofless tower with decorative, bladed spires that
bubbers claim resembles the wings of some great slumbering beast. And to speak of great beasts, a titanic
steel portcullis bars the entrance to the tower, its bars some five feet in diameter, each bar separated from the

131
others by another fifteen feet. The gates no longer
operate, having rusted in place uncounted centuries ago,
but the sheer size of the gates make it not hindering in
the least to the average size sod who wanders into the
Gatehouse seeking the ministrations of the Bleakers.

Branching off from the gate are two large wings of the
building, one of which serves as both hospital and
poorhouse for the sick and hungry of the Hive. The
Bleakers ask no questions of those who enter seeking
aid, and give what they can, only spouting their
philosophy of madness and inner meaning if asked by the curious or the desperate. The second main wing
serves as both asylum and orphanage for the ward, a beginning and an end for many of the pitiful residents
of the slums.

Behind the tower, and mostly out of the view of the rest of the ward, are two smaller wings. These serve as a
madhouse for members of the Cabal, as well as the criminally and irretrievably insane. Several past factols of
the Cabal, long ago descended into the madness of their calling, are housed within. They languish within,
locked away for their own, and others’ safety. In their madness, as rumors leaked by their caretakers tell,
some have come to possess frightening mental or psionic abilities, and seem all too willing to share their
madness with those around them. It is unlikely they will ever see the light of day again.

Finally, walled off from the rest of the Hive, situated between the wings of the Gatehouse are three forested
courtyards, one for the poor and orphaned, one previously open only to the Bleakers themselves, and one for
the use of the insane.

The current occupants of the Gatehouse, the Bleak Cabal, only took up residency in the past five centuries,
though the original origin of the sprawling complex has been lost to time. In fact, the Bleak Cabal took their
faction symbol from an obscure symbol found upon an ancient tiled mosaic deep within the Gatehouse,
meaningless out of the context of its unknown history. They found irony, or some manner of comfort, in taking
a meaningless symbol as their own, mirroring their own philosophy of meaninglessness in the multiverse at
large.

Likely the building is one of the oldest in Sigil, though it is probably not as old as the Palace of the Jester. But
it does beg the question as to what use the truly massive steel gates of the tower were ever used for. Merely
decoration, or in the dim past did they require actual use in order to keep something out, or lock something
away? Could something that massive have simply walked the streets of Sigil at some point?

Further rumored is that somehow the Gatehouse, mostly because of its name and age, is in some way
connected to the Lady’s Mazes. No real proof exists for this conjecture, but it doesn’t stop the barmies of the
Hive, and some of the Bleakers themselves, from spouting the screed that the Lady’s Mazes bubble up all
around the Gatehouse, and all one must do is simply find the elusive portals leading to each and every one of
those personal hells...

Giant’s District

In the past decade, almost unnoticed among the other major happenings within the Cage, a large number of
giants and giant-kin have formed a small but growing district within the Hive. Many of them hailing from
Ysgard, much to the chagrin of Sigil’s bariaur and dwarven communities, the giant community has settled into
a district nestled at the edge of the Hive adjacent to the Clerk’s Ward. Many of the ramshackle structures that
predated their arrival have since been demolished with zeal by the larger-sized beings, and architecture
better suiting the giants’ physical dimensions erected in their place.

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Many of the community, however, are a decade later still adjusting to the planar cosmopolitan nature of the
City of Doors. The Minders Guild is now in the unique position of having clients in two wards requesting aid in
preventing the occasional raid by the giants into adjacent neighborhoods, while at the same time attempting
to sway a number of the more lawful members of the giant community into joining the fold. [The giants are still
adjusting to the concept of not hurling chunks of masonry at non-district dwellers passing through, much to
the Sons of Mercy’s dismay. – The Editor].

New Tyr

This small squat was settled by a number of bashers from a Prime world called Athas some years ago. The
self-sufficient and tough bashers that call it home typify the area; they respect strength but seem mighty peery
of wizards and gith of both varieties. In recent years, the residents have taken a great shine to the clerics of a
number of Sigil’s major temples that have preached to the community in order to gather converts. The
concept of deities who exist and answer prayers seems almost a novel concept to the Athasians, and a
growing minority of them have converted to several of Sigil’s major faiths with gusto. Among the population,
which is largely human, there are a number of half-giants, various genasi, and a number of odd
human/dwarven half-breeds called muls by the locals. The citizens of New Tyr have attracted a large amount
of attention from the Sodkillers for their seemingly inbred toughness, resilience, and work ethic. Thus far,
however, the faction has had little success in persuading the Athasians to fall in any numbers towards their
own philosophy.

[Oddly enough, elves have reported the distinctly unpleasant feeling of being watched when traveling the
streets of New Tyr, as well as hearing a vaguely insect-like chattering. – The Editor]

Chaos District

Filled with more barmies than perhaps the Gatehouse’s insane wings, the seemingly mad by choice residents
of the chaos district are Xaositects to the core. The district itself sprawls out around the former main haunt of
the Chaosmen, a building called the Hive. [the on Xaositects Count a confuse body to. – The Editor]

A jumbled mix of the naturally chaotic races and chaotic representatives of other races not normally given to
overtly chaotic tendencies populate the entire area surrounding the former Xaositect headquarters. Among
the freewheeling population are numbered humans, tieflings, chaonds, githzerai, half-elves, a few other prime
races, and a very small minority of cambions and alufiends. Full-blooded Slaadi and Tanar’ri are common
sights here, and the rare Eladrin may be found, but most of the
exemplar transient.

Streets curl and twist at, well, random throughout the district,
sometimes simply ending at a blank wall. Kips are built up and burned
down in the space of a week, and little in the area has the bearing of
the years about it. Nothing lasts; everything changes. [Above all, carry
no expectations and remain wary. – The Editor] The district has most
recently been splattered with paint, the hallmark of the Painter and her
gaggle of groupies, admirers, and fellow self-appointed artists.
Everything from buildings, to lampposts, to the street itself has been
painted in anything ranging from beautiful renditions of scenes from a
dozen different planes to random splashes of discordant colors. In any
event, they’re just as likely to continue their pigmented assault of the
district as to attempt to burn it down the next day. In that, at least,
they’re predictable.

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Goatswood

This quaint community of humans within the border area of the Lower Ward, spireward of the Ditch, has at
times in its centuries-long history been swallowed up by the Hive and reclaimed by the Lower Ward
innumerable times at the whim of the City Courts and mapmakers of Sigil. The inhabitants hail originally from
a dead or dying Prime world named Ranais. Having suffered greatly themselves, they have traditionally been
welcoming and respectful to those bashers who have been through strife and persevered. A blood has little to
fear treading the streets within this district if he does the inhabitants no harm.

The Lotus Blossom District

The exact position of this district has been a matter of debate for the past decade, during which it has swelled
in size, and likewise in importance. On the hazy border between the Clerk’s Ward and the Hive, this district is
more a cultural rather than a racial enclave, in comparison to other such small neighborhoods and districts.
The Lotus Blossom District takes its name from its design in the shape of a Lotus Blossom, a common flower
on those Prime worlds whose inhabitants make up most of the district’s residents.

The style of the residents, and indeed, the architecture of the district in particular, breaks with Sigil’s norms,
as such enclaves are often noted for. The residents of the district primarily hail from those worlds worshipping
the Chinese Pantheon or the Celestial Bureaucracy, such as the Torilian continent of Kara-Tur and the Prime
world of Rokugan. Primarily human, there are also a smattering of other races not commonly seen elsewhere
in Sigil such as ogre mage, nezumi, hengeyokai, vanara, and a dwarven subrace called korobokuru. Other
races emerge from time to time, but are not usually seen by outsiders.

The district is segmented into several subsections, each taking the rough shape of a lotus petal. The Red
District is known for a high trade with the Hive in drugs and prostitution, with many illicit dealings happening
underneath the ornate, gilded surface. [Reminds me of the Lady’s Ward... - The Editor].

The Blue and Yellow Districts are populated by temples that cater to the district’s residents, including a large
temple currently being built to honor Sung Chiang, the Lord of Thieves. It has been speculated that a portal to
the Teardrop Palace, or to somewhere else in Gehenna, exists in or near the new temple. None have
determined whether this is fact or hearsay, however, and the Guild of Doorsnoops has had little luck in
investigating this. The only difference between the Yellow and Blue Districts is the presence of more scribes
in the Yellow, and more priests and temples in the Blue. They are structurally similar otherwise, with little
transition between them obvious to an outsider. Oddly, Wei Minh Lee, a Golden Lord of The Lady’s Ward has
never once been seen inside the district, despite the presence of a temple to Shou Hsing, the power of
longevity that he claims to be a proxy of...

A large number of members of the Mind’s Eye have taken up residence within the Yellow District in the past
year. Most of them have emigrated from outside, though some have arisen from members of the community
that have taken up membership and belief in the faction’s creed. The group seems to fit well with their
surroundings, and if they continue to grow, though they may soon command more influence within the district
than they currently can manage.

The Black District is a small but dense area closest to the Hive, crammed with tenement buildings and little
else. The squalor here exceeds that in many areas of the Hive proper since there are all the more berks trying
to squeeze into an area of similar culture. Crime is rampant and non-district residents are advised to avoid
the area or travel with an armed escort. The Minder’s Guild would be more than happy to provide protection
to those traveling through this district considering the lack of inroads they have had into the area in general
among the residents.

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Central to the Lotus Blossom District is the White District, home to the wealthiest and most influential of the
district’s community. Perhaps the most influential member of the district’s elite is Xin Ming Ue (LN female
crow-headed tengu Sohei11), a female tengu of extraordinary influence in the district for good and ill alike.
Her kip and surrounding grounds in the center of the district are remarkably spacious for the area, including
an orchard of cherry trees and rock gardens.

The number of fiends in the district, both baatezu and lesser yugoloth, has increased in the past year, and it
has been speculated that either the supposed portal to Gehenna has garnered much traffic, or that a member
of the district has had increasing dealings with the Lower Planes in a grab for power from the established
district leaders. Within the area, the chant has either a secret member of the Illuminated from Plague-Mort
residing in the district, or that an underground war is brewing between rival ninja clans seeking to establish a
beachhead within Sigil from a common Prime home world. It’s also been rumored that the ogre mage Estavan
has been seen frequently in the district, speaking with a number of the residents of the White District. He
likely seeks to establish connections inside the district, but as always with Sigil’s powerful, his motivations
remain dark. [Makes sense. He’s faced extreme competition elsewhere from Zadara and Shemeska, and so it
seems appropriate he would attempt to parley his cultural similarities into business relations. – The Editor]

The Ooze Portals

One of the more notable, and dangerous, features of the Hive are the preponderance of a certain types of
portals leading to the Paraelemental Plane of Ooze. These Ooze oddly shaped portals take the appearance
of puddles in the winding streets of the ward from the shantytowns of the Gatehouse District to the
monuments of the Gray District. Most take the appearance of puddles of the mildly acidic rainwater common
to Sigil, others the appearance of pools of slime or sludge, and still others at the hours of antipeak have been
seen to give a faint phosphor glow.

Unlike most portals within Sigil, the Ooze portals within the Hive are perpetually open to some extent.
Stepping into one of them will result in falling bodily into the paraelemental plane itself, typically to one’s death
by drowning, if the victims are unable to catch themselves before falling fully through. Even those who
blunder into the portals by accident are the minority of victims; the majority of those who vanish into the
portals are grabbed and pulled through to the other side by the distended, blindly searching arms of ooze
mephits that have the ability to reach through and grapple anything unwise enough to be in the vicinity.
Whether the mephits are just curious, mischievous, hungry, or malevolent is largely unknown. Most sages are
unwilling enough to suffer the presence of one of the muck-covered, reeking pests long enough to ask them
their intentions.

Most Hive dwellers know enough to avoid the portals when they see them, those that can’t either avoid all
puddles in the ward or tend to fall victim to them. The clueless, on the other hand, are the prime victims to the
portals that appear and vanish at uneven, seemingly random intervals. Many wonder why the ooze portals
are allowed by the Lady to exist in Sigil, and then only in the Hive in their perpetually opened state. Aside
from their danger to the unwary, the portals are used by residents to dispose of trash, refuse, and, according
to rumors in The Lady’s Ward, the corpses of victims of theft and murders in the ward. The only blood that
seems to have much interest in the portals aside from their use as dumping grounds is Fell, the fallen Dabus
who wanders the Hive, bricking them over to seal them off. Otherwise, they seem to exist for no reason
except as a hazard, unless one desperately needs transport to the inner planes. [Much cleaner and safer
routes exist. Few would willingly subject themselves to the elemental realm of muck and mire beyond the
portals. – The Editor]

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 UnderSigil

While not a ward or really a place known in any great detail to the vast majority of the citizens of Sigil, the
networks of passages, tunnels, and caverns beneath the streets of the Cage are unique enough to warrant
their own description.

UnderSigil is not a homogenous network of passages and tunnels, and indeed many of the known and
suspected networks do not connect with one another. Many of the excavated passages are examples of
vastly different points in Sigil’s history. Some of the tunnels appear to be from recent centuries, such as the
caverns underneath the neighborhood of Gurincraag in the Lower Ward. Other passages that have been
found are from the largely unrecorded, mist shrouded past of the City of Doors, such as the unmapped
labyrinth beneath the Palace of the Jester in The Lady’s Ward.

Various parts of UnderSigil open up into all of the wards of the city, though precious little of the network is
mapped in any detail. Many of the tunnels quarried out in Sigil’s past have simply been forgotten as the years
have passed and their creators passed away into dust and ink on forgotten and unread books. In fact, most of
these formerly unknown vaults and passages have been found quite by accident by others digging in
basements or deeper vaults beneath established buildings. [I suspect that less than 20% of the expanse of
UnderSigil is publicly known. And I stress publicly known. Some within the Cage know far more than others
on this matter. – The Editor]

The Twelve Factols Inn within The Lady’s Ward is known to connect by tunnels into portions of the Realm
Below, and the Dustmen also have excavated catacombs beneath portions of the Hive, especially under the
Grey District near the Mortuary. These tunnels have added to the network of passages, and in places they
have blundered into even older and deeper warrens under the feet of Sigil’s residents.

The tunnels dug down into the great ring of Sigil are excavated through a rocky material which is present
nowhere else in the multiverse. Sigil-rock, as it’s called, makes up the base upon which the City of Doors is
built atop the Infinite Spire. Thing is, no graybeard can really tell you just what it is. The material defies
identification, and any dwarf, mason, or earth
genasi can take one look at it and dismiss any idea
that it’s natural rock of any kind. Sigil-rock is hard
and difficult to chip by tool or shape by magic,
similar to granite in its natural state. However, any
of the rock that is separated from the ring of the city
begins to rapidly grow brittle and crumble to dust in
a short period. This is why the base of Sigil has
never been mined for building material, requiring
that such foundations be imported from across the
planes.

None know just how thick or deep the ring of Sigil

is. Some graybeards believe that one could burrow
down and reach the outer side of the ring, falling
out much as is the case with a berk jumping over
the wall in Suicide Alley. None have ever achieved
the task, and it may in fact be impossible. Perhaps
if one keeps digging they simply pass unknown
through a portal, or maybe the ring adjusts size to
accommodate the tunneling within it. Nothing is
impossible, and it’s known that Sigil has shrunk or
expanded in size at times in the past, presumably
at the will of Her Serenity.

136
Because of the uncommon, and unnatural, qualities of Sigil-rock, the few known attempted settlements by
earth genasi within the Realm Below have all failed. None of them lasted more than a year or two before the
residents moved aboveground to escape an environment that they claimed had “not the spirit of true stone”. If
even those with the essence of stone and rock flowing through their veins felt uncomfortable within the depths
below Sigil’s streets, it casts a dim view upon the nature of the substance that the City of Doors supports itself
upon.

Also common within the Realm Below are the Sigil-unique events known as cagequakes. Similar to an
earthquake, these far too frequent events may cause the collapse of poorly constructed tunnels. Rarely do
these events occur in such a magnitude that they manifest upon the surface, and even more rarely do they
cause any more than public distress, rattled window panes and a few cracked walls or foundations. But within
the bowels of UnderSigil such events are frighteningly common and more intense. Falling rock and shifting
passages are common, especially the deeper down a blood travels or the poorer the construction of the
tunnel. [The very existence of cagequakes poses interesting questions about the nature of Sigil. And even
more questions arise if one were to approach the issue with the supposition that none of the cagequakes
were by chance, but rather by design. Nothing of Her Dread Majesty’s design is by fickle whim, nothing. – The
Editor]

And it seems likely that to some extent, the tunnels and passages of the Realm Below do indeed subtly shift
position or location over the years. Whether this is by the actions of cagequakes, or by some property of
space within the ring of Sigil itself, the reason is unknown. [The mazes of elaborate, forgotten, and nigh
incomprehensible tunnels deep under The Lady’s Ward are perhaps the most drastic examples of this
property, and, from what my own eyes have observed, I am not certain that all of that labyrinth resides within
Sigil. – The Editor]

Many of the passages of UnderSigil are infested with such vermin as cranium rats, which themselves appear
to have burrowed out their own networks of tunnels, fitted to their own diminutive size. Other passages have
been known to contain or belch out to the surface such beings as lesser fiends, vargouilles, and the
occasional undead. More commonly those passages and vaults closer to the surface serve as shelter and
refuge for criminals, many of them running from their punishment at the hands of the City Guard, the
Sodkillers, or the Sons of Mercy. The addle-coved and barmy are in no small abundance within the Realm
Below as well, with likely as many, or more, dwelling unheard beneath the streets than within the Gatehouse
itself.

In fact, within the second level of the Realm Below, in passages branching out and away from those
excavated by Sigil’s residents, there are many who call themselves Darkers, forgotten and unrecorded. Small
isolated communities of these cutters exist, who for their own
reasons have shuttered themselves away in the darkness and
confined spaces of Sigil’s underground. These groups have their
own rules, laws, and conventions, and aside from the barmy and the
criminal, some have spoken of groups of Darkers who have taken
up a taste for the flesh of mortal sods who blunder into the tunnels
they occupy. And some rumors tell of even stranger creatures within
the darkness that these mortal ghouls themselves flee from in terror
at even the hint of. Some speak of filth encrusted, tentacled beings,
and of warring kingdoms of cranium rats known as the Four Great
Minds. [But of this, I cannot prove a word aside to say that that there
are indeed massive numbers of cranium rats infesting the Realm
Below, and that there is evidence to suggest at least two separate
factions are at war with each other, especially in the regions
burrowing down below the Slags. – The Editor]

137
One specific community calling itself the Dim Court exists in some of the shallower networks of tunnels
beneath the Nobles District of The Lady’s Ward. This small community is a microcosm for life within the
Realm Below. They have a unique social structure, even their own terminology for themselves within their
group. For example, those Darkers who possess low light or darkvision are known, within the Dim Court, as
Seers. These bloods guide the others and almost never go aboveground since their eyes are so valuable to
the rest of the community since no light, magical or mundane, are ever sparked within the hall of the court.

The court takes its name from the inky blackness it resides in and the pit at the center plaza of the
underground community. Used as a dumping ground for refuse and trash, as well as a punishment for crimes
befitting death. None of the Darkers know just where it leads, or just how deep the Pit is. One might speculate
it simply exits to a portal or to somewhere else within the depths, and attempts to judge the depth of the Pit
have recorded over a half-mile of depth without reaching any material bottom. [But the ring of Sigil is only so
deep is it not? An open question. – The Editor]

Perhaps the strangest, and one of the least supported rumors holds that deep beneath the Lower Ward lies
the abandoned ruins of a Yugoloth citadel called the Temple of Darkness or the Temple of Eternal Darkness.
The site was reportedly abandoned and destroyed by its occupants during the late stages of the Faction War,
or destroyed by an outside agency during the same period of time. The area is still said to be cloaked in
randomly failing shreds of deeper darkness spells, littered with broken black marble and the still smoking
husk of a device known as the Nightmare Shaft. Of those who have announced their intentions to find the
temple deep within UnderSigil those who have returned to the surface never found it. One of these groups
however claim to have seen networks of elegant marble paved passages, emblazoned with runes of silver in
a mix of Infernal and Abyssal. This last information is wholly unsubstantiated by any other reports, and the
claimants either left Sigil shortly thereafter or fell heavily into their cups. But the stories do certainly suggest
that at one point the ‘loths did have a higher presence within the depths of Sigil. The current state of that
presence is unknown in the face of scant evidence one way or the other.

138
 Chapter 8:
The Planes and Beyond

And Beyond…
Outside of Sigil the next biggest thing you need to learn 'bout is the Planes. They‘re infinite, so‘s it‘s not like
you can learn everything in one shot. But we‘ll try our best, hm? Sigil is said to be the center of the multiverse,
the center of all. From Sigil one can affect the Planes entire. Or some such drek. Now, since Sigil is the center
of things, the going theory is that as a “fulcrum point” (see? You too can learn a thing or two from a Guvner), if
one were to nudge Sigil one way or the other in belief, then the rest of the Planes would follow, like a snowball
at the top of a mountain making for an avalanche. No one‘s gotten a strong enough grip on the city though to
test that theory out yet, and I‘m rather glad for that myself. Now let‘s take a look at why so many cutters
believe such bunk.

The planes, such as they are, exist as a representation of a meaning or element or aspect of reality. Confusin‘
enough for ya? I‘m not yet done. The planes themselves are generally infinite. They exist “beside”, “between”
or “concurrent” to each other only by our own convention—it is not so simple just to walk around in one plane
and mark a point on your map where the other begins - though I‘m sure some lucky berk out there will prove
me wrong tomorrow. Moving from one plane to another generally only occurs with deliberate intention. Some
planes will recognize that you are wishing to traverse to a plane near to it and through either the planes own
willingness, or your belief that you‘re going the right way after a few days or weeks of travel, you‘ll find
yourself where you‘re trying to get to. I don‘t suggest bothering making a map of the journey though, such
planes are notorious about making the way unrepeatable.

For other planes, or if you want to get to one without having to traverse the others between, one must hop a
portal to elsewhere, have a grand wizard cast a gate or other spell, alternatively one can take one of the many
natural pathways from one plane to another such as the river Styx, climbing Yggsdrial, walking the Great
Road, or if desperate enough jumping into a astral rift, colorpool, or other open vortex. Portals and spells are
usually the safest and most controlled way to travel though, so if you have a choice I‘d suggest taking those.

Traveling the Planes: Advice

As we get started on our little tour here, let‘s have some advice out front. I‘d rather you got home safe and
sound to recommend me to your buddies as your personal font of knowledge. From the top:

Plan Ahead: Right cutter, so you're looking to become a planewalker and all you need is a portal to hop
through? Well, you could take that approach but it's your neck you'll be risking. Smart cutters plan ahead and
research the destination that they're going to as well the places that they plan to travel through. If you have
the time and jink, you may even like to consider planning several routes to get to your destination. You never
know when your carefully planned route falls apart and you're left stranded somewhere out there on the Great
Ring without a gate-key or a clue.

Portal Diaries: Having mentioned others who keep diaries of portals and where they lead to, it's a good habit
to get in to keeping this information recorded somewhere yourself. You never know when knowing about a
particular portal will come in handy. Even if you can't make use of the portal in a particular situation, that
knowledge may be useful to another (since knowledge is power) and it can make a useful bargaining chip. If
you know of a number of portals, it pays to keep some portal keys lying around. It's recommended that you
don't carry them around all the time, as this means that if you do happen to pass through them (without
intending to use them) then you'll trigger the portal in any case. If you need to use a portal in a hurry and the
key takes awhile to get a hold off, keep a spare for emergencies as you'll never know when you need to make
a sharp exit.

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Travel with Others: The planes can be a dangerous place to travel, that's pretty much common sense and
anyone not going out with at least some preparation is simply asking for trouble. There's a fair number of
cutters that travel the planes regularly, whether it is transporting goods for trade, passing messages or
traveling for other reasons (best not to ask in some instances). Whilst hiring on as a caravan guard on a Prime
world may not seem very glamorous, out on the planes it can mean the difference between reaching your
destination and not getting there at all.

The plane that you travel on is a pretty big clue on the kind of guide that you're likely to encounter. Having to
spend a great deal of time on a particular plane is going to influence a guide no matter what their original
character and outlook may have been. For example, it takes a particularly strong individual not to be affected
by the apathy of the Gray Waste. If you happen to find a rather cheerful guide on the Gray Waste it's
recommended that you be peery in the extreme of their motivation and intentions. Like so much of the advice
contained herein - use your common sense, it's one of a planewalker's greatest assets.

Whilst on the subject of Paths, not all roads are ones that you can simply walk down from point to another in
order to reach your destination. Some roads, paths, whatever you want to call them have a specific nature
that is affected by the choices and actions of those who travel along them. For example, in Elysium if you help
a cutter out or perform good actions you'll find your journey goes a lot faster. Fail to help another out or
perform a malevolent action and you'll soon find yourself going nowhere. Unfortunately some of the paths in
the Lower planes work the same way, except that the choices and actions are reversed.

The planes are a place in flux, molded by belief and infinite in size - the more options that you have for getting
from one point to the next the better off you are (in general that is). There's a big debate within the
Planewalkers community as to how many routes a cutter should plan when getting around. The favored
number is three, although this could just be a nod to the Rule of Three than for any more specific reason.

The main thing to bear in mind is: be adaptable. All the best laid plans can fall apart at the drop of a hat. In
fact, should you ever have the misfortune of visiting the demi-plane of hats; you'll soon see how any plan can
be dashed asunder. Improvisation, some knowledge and a willingness to go about things in an unorthodox
manner are all useful for surviving out on the planes. At this point there should be an inclusion of interesting
and pithy quotes from various planewalkers, but budget cuts have prevented any from being included.

What You Know and Who You Know: So you've planned several routes, got the portal keys, arranged for
reliable guides and feel ready to head off. Having followed all the advice above it would seem likely that you
and your companions reach the destination in one piece. But the one thing that we've not considered so far is
the various personalities that you‘re likely to encounter along the way.

The planes and places that you'll be traveling through give some hint as to the character of the individuals that
you might meet along the way. However, only a leatherhead would presume that all berks in Carceri are
treacherous and that all berks on Mount Celestia are paragons of good. Bear in mind that most berks you‘ll
meet along the way are individuals, which means that they each have their own histories, their own
motivations and long-term goals.

Of course I'm not including such creatures as Hordlings and other critters that can't or do not wish to use their
sentience for specific purposes and goals. But you can bet your Bigby's Thumb of Hitchhiking that even the
tiny Chad on the Plane of Earth can help or hinder a cutter along on their travels. One part open-mindedness,
one part peeriness and one part expecting the unexpected is a recipe that the (late) noted scholar and
planewalker Rolla Cello put forward in his last treaty entitled 'Rough Guide to Pandemonium'.

So why all this advice on not making assumptions about cutters living on the planes etc. you may ask? Well,
sometimes it's not so much what you know as who you know. A word in the right ear can change the fate of
kingdoms and more. With so much relying on word of mouth and reputation, a cutter's fortunes can rise or fall
with a single word. It pays to keep in the good books of those you cross regularly or are likely to have a run-in
with. If you plan to visit Elysium and a Guardinal scholar asks you for an interview before-hand to learn more
about a Prime world that you've visited - well, an hour of your time answering questions can go a long way
towards getting a friendlier reactions from other Guardinals that you're likely to encounter.

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 Traversing Infinity

Jordel made his way out of the Great Bazaar, seeking a quieter place where he could hear the mimir‘s tale in
peace. The strange magical device floated a foot before with him, and at times he felt like it was the one doing
the leading. Yet he had no complaints when he found himself on a small bench nestled between two
impressively tall buildings lined with menacing thorns along their rooftops. The mimir paused its recitation for a
moment, seemingly considering what it had next to say…

“A tad long winded that one, but you can find worse bashers to learn from. Of course, what’s most important to
planewalkers is how to get from place to place. The profession doesn’t entail lounging in one area, after all.
There’s too much to be seen, far more than can be squeezed into a single lifetime. Fortunately most of the
multiverse, save perhaps the Prime Material Plane, is riddled with portals and other pathways to travel
between the planes. For those powerful enough, magic simplifies planar traveling as well, and of course some
creatures have the inherent ability to cross planes. Every method has its advantages and disadvantages;
each can provide its own adventure. And the real excitement typically starts once you get to your destination,
which is why it’s important to know what you’re getting into and to be properly prepared in advance. You don’t
want to head into Pandemonium without being ready for the winds, and you don’t want to step onto Elysium
without knowing a way out.”

[Editor's note: Hajzeek is a sad sight these days. You‘ll be hard pressed to find a cutter who‘s seen more
nooks and crannies of the planes than that old bariaur. But everything passes with time, so they say. He
certainly makes Sigil richer with the time he has left.]

Hajzeek Gnarl-Hoof

Portals

Ah, was a time these hooves took me all

across the planes. I saw the darkest,
smelliest hole in the multiverse and the
brightest, sweetest heights of ‘em, too.
And I loved ‘em all. Pass me another mug
o‘ that bub there, and ol‘ Gnarl-Hoof will
tell ye all about it. I‘ll lann ye the ins and
outs o‘ planehoppin‘, I will. The first thing
a planewalker needs knowin‘ is how to
get around. There‘s lots o‘ ways ye can
get to where ye‘re going.

The way most folks get around the planes

is portals. There‘s really three reasons for
this. They usually take ye to the same
spot every time, just about any sod can
use ‘em, and the things be as common as
Dustmen at a mass burial. Portals
connect two places through a permanent
teleportation effect. This makes ‘em quick
and handy shortcuts, sometimes to a
place on the same plane, but oftentimes
to another plane altogether. Now, the
portal itself can be up to about 15 feet in
radius, and exists in two-dimensions. I got
that from a Guvner. Most portals‘re in
doorways or gates that have the same
sort o‘ shape, but they can also be found
in other sorts o‘ bounded spaces like
windows, holes, or natural opening.

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Portals keep things movin‘, allowin‘ people to get to places they could never reach otherwise. Some of us use
‘em just for the noble art of explorin‘ the corners o‘ the multiverse, but lots o‘ folks use ‘em to spread their jink
around. Opportunistic traders can get rare goods from out-o‘- the way spots and bring ‘em to other out-o‘-the
way spots. Portals make Sigil the City o‘ Doors; that city has more portals in and out of it than pointy bits on a
bladeling, and so the city has a big sway on planar doin‘s. Lucky for all of us that the Lady can‘t be bought.
She ignores all the posturin‘s of the sycophants and cross-traders o‘ the factions and guilds, and She‘s the
only one that can make portals that lead in or out o‘ the city. Outside the Cage, it seems that portals are a
natural part o‘ the planes, sometimes crafted by deities but usually just appearin‘ and disappearin‘ of their own
accord. But mortals who try to make ‘em always fail. Now, I hear tell that some primes can make portals on
the Prime Material Plane, but those spells only work on their out-o‘-touch worlds.

Since planars can‘t make their own portals, many groups and businesses make chartin‘ the portals that do
exist a big priority. Then they turn around an‘ sell that knowledge to planewalkers. Good thing, since portals
ain‘t so easy to find. And they usually need a special key to open ‘em. Mark ye well the Rule of Threes when
usin‘ portals: find the portal, then figure out its key, and then get ready for what‘s on the other side.

Finding Portals
Portals are invisible, but they give off a faint aura o‘ transmutation magic, so bloods using detect magic an‘
true sight can see ‘em, and they give off a much stronger aura when they‘re open. Planars can kind o‘ sense
portals, spottin‘ traces of the aura around the portals. Usin‘ witchery, or just sniffing it out yerself don‘t give ye
a clue on how the portal is opened, though. How hard a portal is to find or get to can give an idea of how out-
o‘-the-way its destination is. Thank the powers that most portals are medium-sized and stay in one place, but
there be plenty of ‘em that can be moved, like barrels, wardrobes, or mirrors, and others that change on their
own.

Just finding one portal usually doesn‘t finish the job. They ain‘t many portals that‘re static, and lots o‘ times
they have conditions that make travelin‘ back and forth more difficult. For starters, portals can be either one-
way or two-way, which means ye may have to find another portal in order to find yer way back. Even portals
that‘re two-way oftentimes have different keys to open each side o‘ the portal. And if that ain‘t enough, portals
are either temporary, permanent, or shiftin‘. Most portals be temporary, appearin‘ and disappearin‘ at what
seems like random times, or changin‘ their keys every once in a while. Permanent portals are hard to find,
and‘re jealously guarded by those who want to keep ‘em under their thumb. Lastly, some portals don‘t
disappear but just move about between locations. These shiftin‘ portals move one or both o‘ their ends to
other locations based on some pattern, though a lot o‘ them seem to shift in ways that make no sense. Shiftin‘
portals can be pretty dicey if ye don‘t know where ye‘re goin‘ to be comin‘ out.

Discovering the Key

Almost all portals need some sort o‘ key to open ‘em up. This key can be just about anythin‘ a cutter can think
of: a word or sayin‘, a gesture (like waving your hands), a thought or emotion, a musical note, the castin‘ of a
particular spell (which is then sucked up by the portal without any harm), or the channelin‘ of divine energy.
Many portal keys are part of a general group such as a flower, a bottle, or a broken sword. Others may be
more specific such as a particular amulet, or an object the wielder considers to be junk. A few rare portals may
be set to open only at certain times during the day or year, or only to someone wit‘ a particular name or
alignment. The kind o‘ portal key is oftentimes related to the portal‘s destination, but that ain‘t always the way
o‘ things.

The most obvious way to figure out a portal key is the ol‘ ―trial and error ‖ method, but it‘s not the best way to
go about things. This only has a chance to work if ye got some idea about where the portal goes and think the
key‘s connected to that. Spellslingers, on the other hand, are oftentimes given the job of learnin‘ portal keys
by castin‘ divination spells like analyze portal or legend lore. These bloods can make a good livin‘ sellin‘ their
skills and knowledge to planewalkers or catalogers. Most planars, ‘specially in Sigil, learn portal keys through
word o‘ mouth or exchanges of information. The cost of a portal key can vary wildly. How much does the
physical key itself cost? How few‘re portals to the place in question? How much does the operator of the
portal want to keep traffic down? How much is it worth to ye, berk? For portals that see common use, a portal
key (whether ‘tis an object, action, or mental concept) will generally cost from 5 to 100 gold pieces.

Once you have the right key, turning the portal on is normally pretty simple. Usually the person wit‘ the key just
walks through the portal, and it activates when the key passes through. Sometimes the key‘s gotta be used a

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certain way, though, like holding it in the air or tapping it against the portal itself. It don‘t matter whether the
portal is bein‘ activated on purpose or not; if someone happens to carry a portal key on 'em, or otherwise
triggers the portal, it opens, oftentimes catching the person ‘fore they realize it.

The Other Side

When it opens, a portal crackles wit‘ energy and sometimes lets out a burst of air or other effects. Sometimes
the portal‘s destination can be seen as a dim outline once the portal is on. Unless something special opened it
up, the portal stays open for a full six seconds ‘fore it shuts down. Usually, all ye have to do is put any part o‘
yer body into the portal, and ye‘ll get sucked through. But if the portal‘s two-way and ye have the key for both
sides then ye can move freely in and out o‘ the portal. So ye can poke yer head through and peer around, for
instance. If there‘s something solid blockin‘ the other side o‘ the portal, it won‘t open.

Any planewalker‘ll tell ye that knowin‘ what‘s on the other side o‘ the portal is the most important knowledge
ye can hold. No point in going through it if ye don‘t know where it goes, unless ye‘re just burnin‘ up wit‘
curiousity. Usually ye know somethin‘ o‘ where the portal leads ‘fore ye pass through it, either by using
analyze portal or by lannin‘ it from whoever gave ye the portal key. Some planewalkers have developed the
ability to sense where a portal goes to and even if there‘s a natural danger on the other side. The best way to
handle planar hazards is wit‘ spells, but some devices have been made to use on specific planes.

The Exceptions
Well, this is the multiverse we‘re speakin‘ of, and there‘s always somethin‘ that breaks the rules. There be
portals that don‘t need keys, that‘re always open, or don‘t even need to be in bounded spaces. The easiest
examples to point to be the portals along the Great Road, the World Ash, or Mount Olympus. And o‘ course
the ways portals work may be completely different on certain prime worlds or other obscure regions o‘ the
multiverse.

Using the City of Doors

Sigil hangs above the Spire like an apple just out o‘ reach from those who want to grab it. Many have lusted to
control the city and its portals, but it knows only one mistress. Luckily, She makes sure no one gains too much
control o‘er her doors. I‘ve spent a lot o‘ time in this city. In the old days, I stayed just long enough to get to
where I was going next. Now, it makes a better place than most to rest these creaking bones and talk wit‘
travelers by a warm fire.

Adventurers and traders could hardly find a better place to set up shop than the Cage. Nowhere else in all the
known planes gives as much access to the rest of existence. Though
Sigil‘s portals may not always drop a cutter off in the exact spot that
body wants, they can get close enough. Even parties that don‘t call kip
in the city oftentimes pass through, finding that the shortest path
between two points goes through the Cage. In fact, there ain‘t many
planar explorers that don‘t make use o‘ the City of Doors in some way.

Though Sigil is full o‘ portals to the other planes, getting to use ‘em is
another matter. Whilst even the Guvners can‘t keep track o‘ just how
many portals exist at any one time, ‘tis the opinion o‘ most bloods that
nearly all portals in the Cage are under someone‘s control, be it a
guild, faction, or random basher. Usually, such portals be on property
owned by the controller. But sometimes, the portal ain‘t under direct
ownership, but the location and portal key needed be such a closely
kept secret no one else is goin‘ to be able to use it, at least ‘til
someone finds a way to make it worth tellin‘. If a cutter‘s a member of
the controllin‘ group, they might have easy access to the portal, or at
least for some small cost. If not, the cutter will probably need to
provide a garnish of some sort (jink, favors, what-have-ye). That being
said, if there‘s one thing that‘ll get ye flayed, ‘tis tryin‘ to tax the use o‘
the Lady‘s portals. That business has been punished so harshly by
Her Serenity that only the barmiest ever try it anymore.

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Not all Sigil‘s portals‘re controlled, though. New portals appear oftentimes enough; maybe they‘re products o‘
the Lady‘s whim or some cosmic fluke. Some o‘ these vanish just as quickly, though others stick around.
Shiftin‘ portals are also really hard t‘keep track of, though the Guvners still log what details they can in their
tomes. Of course, before getting‘ access to a portal, ye have to find one that suits yer needs. Luckily, that‘s
normally the easiest part, as there be more than enough bashers makin‘ a livin‘ off findin‘ portals and tradin‘
chant on ‘em. Askin‘ around in any o‘ Sigil‘s pubs will get ye a few recommendations to those in the know, who
will likely be just as willing to point ye in the right direction; for a minor fee, o‘ course. This can be ‘specially
handy if ye‘re looking for a little-known portal, or mayhap one less public. On the other hand, it ain‘t
guaranteed that what ye pay for is legit. There be plenty out there looking to bob would-be planewalkers. If‘n
ye‘re looking for something‘ more reliable, there be a number o‘ businesses that sell portal information that
live by their reputation, with the Guild of Doorsnoops bein‘ one o‘ the biggest.

In the wake o‘ the Faction War, the Lady of Pain shut the portals down completely, then scrambled ‘em, a time
we speak of nowadays as the Tempest o‘ Doors. Not all portals reopened, and those that did oftentimes had
new destinations or new keys. Over the last five years, things have gotten more regular, but many bashers are
now leery of usin‘ Sigil‘s portals. ‘Tis a sad thing when the planewalkers can‘t rely on the City o‘ Doors. An era
has passed us by, but all sweet grass turns brown in the end, I suppose. Now most cutters put more stock in
the planar pathways and other forms o‘ travel, which means Sigil is a bit less crowded and no longer
guaranteed to have access to every bit o‘ planar merchandise. But even yet, travel through the Cage is still
very high, and the lessened demand for portals has forced businesses to provide cheaper rates for their
services.

The Gate-Towns
Sigil‘s not the only anthill that has important portals. Around the “edges” o‘ the Outlands lay the gate-towns,
one for each o‘ the Outer Planes. These burgs are shadows o‘ the planes they are connected to, culturally an‘
philosophically. The land within and around each gate-town takes on the features o‘ the plane ‘tis linked to,
making them a good way for a basher to get a handle on what to expect on the plane itself. Even more
important, each gate-town has a gate to the Outer Plane ‘tis coupled wit‘, usually large enough for caravans to
cross, making ‘em the main road for merchants. The destinations of most of these gates be well known
(though they have been known to move), and guides can be hired in most o‘ the gate-towns, which is
especially handy for some o‘ the less welcomin‘ planes, ye‘d best believe me. Don‘t trust ‘em, but so long as
they be willin‘ to go through a portal first, ye‘re probably safe on the other end.

Gaining access to the gates ain‘t as easy as ye might expect. Whilst they‘re always open and don‘t need
portal keys, in some o‘ the gate-towns, the folks that live there keep a tight grip on passage. The bureaucrats
of Automata make all potential gate users fill out forms, whilst Tradegate‘s gate is actually owned by a fine and
worthy bariaur named the Master Trader, who must be found and negotiated with for passage. Some o‘ the
other burgs, like Glorium, Sylvania, or Torch have gates that are a little more difficult to find or physically get
to, though no one stops a body from trying. But most of the gate-towns don‘t have any rules or physical
barriers keeping others from using their gate. So long as sods don‘t make trouble, they can use the gates all
they want.

O‘ course, when traveling through the gate-towns, any canny blood is goin‘ to be mindful o‘ that burg‘s own
personal quest. Y‘see, the petitioners o‘ the gate-towns are made up o‘ sods who held a particular philosophy
but didn‘t quite measure up, and didn‘t end up on their proper plane. From then on the petitioners o‘ that town
are devoted to overcomin‘ their own stumbling blocks and getting‘ their burg to become more and more like
the nearby plane until the entire gate-town up and moves there. This is good for the petitioners so they can
set about trying to merge with their plane proper, and ‘tis good for the plane‘s original inhabitants ‘cause it
means more territory and followers. O‘ course, this means that it‘ll be a while ‘fore folks find where the gate
has moved and a new town is built, but ‘tis not a recurrin‘ problem ‘cause these shifts take a long while, what
with opposin‘ forces interferin‘ all the time and most o‘ the burg‘s mortal residents preferrin‘ their homes where
they are. Since there tain‘t too many petitioners to begin wit‘, their desires are normally ignored by more
influential bloods. The most recent crossin‘ was when the gate-town of the Abyss, Plague-Mort, crossed and
was replaced by a burg known as Blight just two years ago.

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 Elemental Vortices

Portals ain‘t the only way to get around, though. One of the other ways is usin‘ an elemental vortex, though
planars rarely make use of ‘em. See, a vortex usually appears on the Prime connectin‘ to an Inner Plane,
though sometimes vortices connect one Inner plane wit‘ another. Near as anyone can tell, vortices are natural
holes in the fabric between the planes. These vortices usually last forever and stay nice an‘ stable. They don‘t
need a key neither, but most smart cutters try to find another way to get where they need to go. Why go to all
the trouble of finding another way, when these vortices seem so handy? Well, the Prime ends of most vortices
tend to form in places where there‘s lots an‘ lots of the elemental stuff that the vortex leads to. So, a vortex to
the Elemental Plane of Fire could be locked deep in the heart of a volcano, while one that leads to the
Elemental Plane of Water may be in the deepest reaches of an ocean. But in spite of all these dangers,
elemental vortices are many times the safest ways (if ye‘ve got the right elemental protections) to get from the
Prime to the Inner Planes and back.

Findin‘ the vortex ain‘t hard, they show up through detect magic and the like, and skilled folk can sense 'em.
So, first things first: find a way to survive the element itself. Use a spell, magic item, or some other sort of
adaptin‘, and then away ye go. Easy as gallopin‘. Ye just get yerself down into the elemental matter, deeper
an‘ deeper until ye‘re all the way under it. The only thing around ye now is that one element. At that moment,
ye leave the Prime behind and find yerself in the Inner Plane. There the vortex can‘t really be made out from
the surroundings, though its elemental properties are actually a bit less strong than the rest of the plane.

The most common an‘ stable elemental vortices connect to the four main Elemental Planes. Vortices that get
a body to the Para- an‘ Quasielemental Planes are much harder to come by and ain‘t as reliable. Temporary
vortices to Lightning may open up durin‘ really violent thunderstorms, and vortices to Ice may appear at the
snowbound poles o‘ prime worlds on occasion. I‘ve even seen Para- an‘ Quasielemental vortices muscle their
way in and take over other permanent elemental vortices. This one time, I was headin‘ for Fire and next thing I
know I‘m treadin‘ through the stiflin‘ Plane of Dust. I was prepared for bein‘ singed, chokin‘ on all that dust.
Use a vortex if ye need to, cutter, but be warned.

Astral Conduits
The Astral Plane offers up many ways to go to and fro. The Astral is a sort o‘ bridge between the Material
Plane and the Outer Planes. Sure, there are strange beasts, horrible astral thought storms and the
inhospitable githyanki to make any trip through the Silver Void hazardous, but it still sees lots o‘ traffic. Spells
like astral projection or powers such as astral caravan allow a body to get onto the plane while spells like
dimension door and teleport use the astral to travel without actually physically moving between two spots.
Those are just some of the most common methods of using the Astral.

A lesser known route is by usin‘ astral conduits, which‘ll take you from the Astral to 'bout anywhere on the
Planes. They‘re strange things; they twist an‘ turn throughout the Silvery Void like wormholes in a piece o‘
fruit. Now, their ends are invisible, but they don‘t need keys, so all a body has to do is go inside and then away
ye go, faster than a Taker grabbin‘ for the last piece of pie. Travelin‘ down one o‘ these things feels like goin‘
through a portal, but really, that‘s not how it is. Ye‘re actually movin‘ down the tube, but so quick it seems the
trip takes no time at all.

So, easy to use, but a cutter needs to know it‘s there first, and for that they‘ll need to be able to see it, with a
spell like true seeing, p‘rhaps. Now, where does it lead? Well, unless ye want to take yer chances, divination
magic will give ye an idea. So, ye‘re smart, you can guess what‘s comin‘ next, right? Hard to find but useful?
Can ye hear the jink changin‘ hands? Most spivs in Sigil have it ―in with a basher, who‘s in with a cutter ‖ who
can give the chant about astral conduits. Also, those bookish Guvners have all sorts o‘ notes written down
that‘ll help find conduits. There‘s more conduits than there‘s pages, though, and more turn up all the time.
They tend to roam about too, so make sure yer source is up to date.

Why do they exist? Why do planars need one more way to get around? Well, seems the conduits may really
be there for another reason altogether. They‘ve got plenty of other uses. Firstly, astral conduits are how the
planes of belief and the Prime Material Plane talk to each other. Prayers and devotions from mortal bashers
go from the Prime to the Outer Planes through the conduit network and all the spell energy that deities hand
out to their faithful comes back that way. When a sod dies, the spirit goes through the astral conduit network
to whatever afterlife they‘ve earned. ‘Cause of all this, many cutters speculate that the conduits were put there

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on purpose, and that new conduits come about the same way. Only makes sense. And seeing as conduits
mature with time, some berks go so far as to say that the conduits themselves are alive. The life stages are
broken down to young, when it drifts about and only works one way; then mature, where it tends to stay in one
place, moving about every few centuries, and works both ways; and old an‘ dodderin‘. Then ‘tis really
dangerous, as it moves around from plane to plane without any way of tellin‘ where ‘twill end up. And finally,
they just die.

Even the stable ones can be treacherous, though. Sometimes, a group traveling t‘gether down a conduit gets
split up, ending up in different places. And some say this can happen to the spirits of the dead, too, and the
poor sods end up in the wrong afterlife. Then there‘s some critters that prey on the conduits. See, while the
ends of a conduit are invisible, that‘s not the way ‘tis in the Astral. The conduit tubes can be seen twistin‘
through the Silvery Void, and a cutter can tell when a body‘s travelin‘ down ‘em. The githyanki know some
spells that can tear open conduits, spilling the contents out into the Astral Plane, and these spells have made
their way into other hands. Then there‘s the astral vampire (h‘rak‘va in the githyanki tongue) which can pierce
a conduit with its long proboscis and suck out the life force of hapless travelers. Some berks figure these
dangers ain‘t enough, and tell tales of another beastie called a conduit cleaver, which has hundreds of arms
ending in cleavers, and chops through conduits with its bladed limbs just for fun. Me, I‘m too old for bogey
stories.

Color Pools
Handier than conduits are color pools, as long as a cutter can get to the Astral in the first place. Color pools
are holes in the fabric of the Astral. Yep, that‘s right, more holes in reality. Startin‘ to sound like there are more
holes in existence than there be in a halfling‘s socks, don‘t it? Anyways, color pools are like doorways that go
from the Astral to any of the planes it connects to. They look like colored disks that can only be seen from one
side. Even though they can‘t be seen from one side, both sides work, so astral travelers who ain‘t paying
attention can tumble right through a color pool ‘fore they even know it. Color pools work a lot like the colored
disks that are all over Mount Olympus and Yggdrassil. Graybeards wag their bone-boxes about what color
pools are, but most planewalkers are just happy to get off a plane infested with githyanki. They don‘t care that
the exit is a blendin‘ of “liquid reality” and “astral ectoplasm”.

Color pools are everywhere in the Silvery Void and even the greenest rube can find one. Just think about
going to a color pool that‘ll take ye to the plane ye want, and ye‘ll start driftin‘ in that direction. Now, ye can‘t
choose where the pool is goin‘ to take ye on the plane in question, so ye have to take yer chances. And keep
this in mind: despite what some knight o‘ the post in the Hive Ward may tell ye, there is no set code to the
colors of the pools. One portal to Celestia may be bright blue whilst another is blood red. ‘Tis much better to
follow yer mind than yer eyes whilst searching for color pools.

Most color pools are one-way portals, so‘s ye can get off the Astral, but ye can‘t get back that way. A cutter
that steps into one is swallowed by the pool and appears, as if from nowhere, on the other side. The color
pool‘s exit on the plane is invisible. Now, just so there‘ll be an exception I wager, every great once in a while,
two-way pools come into being. These color pools allow a body to go onto and off o‘ the Astral. The entrance
back to the Astral is still invisible, though, so mark ye well where ye came out.

Planar Pathways
Now, the planar pathways, they see much more travel than about anything else. Why? ‘Cause they‘re pretty
easy to walk or ride down. They got well-mapped routes and trails and lots o‘ connections to different planes.
They ain‘t the quickest, but they‘re great if a body likes the scenic route. See, unlike the instant travel offered
by portals and the like, the great planar paths are roads, staircases, waterways or such that a basher needs to
actually travel to get from plane to plane. On some of ‘em, the change from plane to plane is so gradual ye
might not even notice, while on others, there be portals an‘ doorways that connect the path to other planes.
‘Cause the pathways are actual physical locations, they each have their own hazards, inhabitants, and special
laws required for traversal. There‘s six generally recognized planar paths, and these be the Great Road, the
River Styx, the River Oceanus, Mount Olympus, Yggdrassil, and the Infinite Staircase.

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The Great Road
The Great Road is so great, it‘s moved beyond bein‘ a real road into what a graybeard would call the
“archetype”, and what most of us unlearned sods would call the “idea”, of a road. As most anyone knows, the
Outer Planes form a ring. You‘ve got yer Upper Planes, and yer Lower, and then you got those ones in
between. Now, if a body is of a mind to, he or she can go from plane to plane, following the ring. This is known
as walkin‘ the Great Road, and every planewalker should do it at least once. At least part o‘ the way, ‘cause
walking through every plane would take ye a few centuries. Even the modrons take shortcuts when they‘re on
their march. On each plane, there‘s an archway at either end. Yeah, I know planes don‘t have ends, and that
they go on forever. I still have a workin‘ brainbox! Just keep up with me here, aye? Imagine there‘s an end to
the planes, otherwise ye‘ll never get anywheres. These archways are a lot like the doorways in Sigil, and they
hook the plane up with the two planes on either side of it. If a basher looks through the arch, the other plane
can be seen on the other side. Just step through that arch to get to the other plane. There‘s usually some kind
of town or fort around the portal. If ye‘re in the Upper Planes, ye can buy some wares or have a mug and a
rest. In the Lower Planes, you might find yerself the newest spear holder in a Blood War regiment. The fiends
make sure an‘ secure their portals, both to guard against their foes and to spring their own attacks.

The River Styx

Feh, I‘d rather go floppin‘ about the Ditchwater than row a boat down the Styx again. Dangerous, smelly, and I
can‘t remember my first love‘s name no more. But sometimes, a planewalker might see the need to travel
down its chaotic, meanderin‘ course through the Lower Planes, so I‘ll tell ye what I know of it. The River Styx
connects to the top layer of every Lower Plane and its tributaries connect to lower layers. Its putrid, blood-
colored waters steal away a body‘s memories if ye so much as stick the tip of yer littlest finger in the sludge. If
ye‘re so unlucky as to fall in completely, ye‘ll find yer very sense of self slippin‘ away like smoke in the
Foundry. Walkin‘ along its banks ain‘t much better, ‘cause there‘s corpses and pointy rocks every which way,
and the banks don‘t take much to collapse and spill a sod into the waters. And I told ye to stay out o‘ the
water, aye? Right, ‘cause not only will ye lose all yer memories, but there‘s horrors in the deeps that keep their
wits just fine, and will happily munch on ye.

The river‘s path can change at a moment's notice, sending travelers over dangerous rapids, impossibly high
waterfalls, or directly into the hands o‘ their enemies. Now, most o‘ the time, we picture the Outer Planes as a
ring, with a Great Road goin‘ between ‘em. Well, the Styx don‘t make sense that way. Accordin‘ to it, the
planes ain‘t sittin‘ cozy side by side. A traveler can go from Acheron to Pandemonium with no in-between
stops, or they can travel through every lawful evil plane in their travel from Carceri to the Abyss. Movin‘ from
plane to plane is so gradual that a body‘ll look about and realize of a sudden that the planes have changed.

Best way to go down the river is to get a ferrymen. Some of ‘em are fiends, others are the spirits of the dead,
and a rare few are livin‘ beings putting their sailin‘ skills to use. Without a ferryman who knows the way
around, yer‘e liable to get very lost indeed. But just remember this: on the Lower Planes, ye can trust nobody,
even if ye‘ve paid cold, hard jink. They‘ll peel ye and give ye over to an archfiend given the chance. But in
spite of that, the Styx sees constant travel. Since it connects all o‘ the Lower Planes, the Styx is used as the
main method of movin‘ troops about for the Blood War. Other travelers make use o‘ it, too, ‘specially
merchants, since portals on the Lower Planes are even more treacherous than the Styx at times. And it never
takes a body more than a day to get somewheres.

Several different bein‘s make kip on or in the Styx. The best known are the silent marraenoloths. These fiends
call the yugoloth lord Charon (or Cerlic, depending on which graybeard ye ask) their high-up, and they look
like skeletal boatmen shrouded in black cloaks. They sell their services, but they charge a steep price, and
they may turn stag if some other cutter has given them a bigger garnish. Besides the marraenoloths, the
waters of the Styx are home to all sorts o‘ fiendish creatures that are unaffected by the Styx water. They either
play some part in the Blood War or feed on the tainted memories lost to the churnin‘ waters.

The River Oceanus

The bright, cheery mirror o‘ the foul, depressin‘ Styx, the River Oceanus winds through the Upper Planes of
Elysium, the Beastlands, and Arborea. Its waters are fragrant an‘ sweet, always carryin‘ the tranquil nature of
its headwaters in Elysium. Oceanus is a well-used trade route between the layers of those planes; ports have
been set up all along its banks and trader‘s boats are always going up an‘ down it, and travelers can usually
find safe passage if they wave around a little jink.

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Even though the river goes through the Upper Planes, it can still be dangerous. In a lot o‘ ways, travelin‘ down
Oceanus is like travelin‘ down the Styx, just with better scenery and water ye can drink. If berks ain‘t careful,
they might find their selves plunging o‘er a big waterfall, crashing o‘er white-water rapids, or being made the
food of some mammoth sea creature. The river meanders and can‘t be charted; its course vanishes from time
to time only to reappear on a different plane. One moment a body can be lookin‘ out on the fields of Elysium
and then the next see the shores of Arborea and have no idea when the change happened.

The Oceanus is deeper than any cutter can figure, and within it, strange and fantastic creatures live. There‘s
all manner of beasts like ye‘d see on the Prime, like dolphins, fish, and turtles, but it‘s also home to all kinds of
intelligent beasts. And hidden deep in that dark deep there are creatures never seen on any Prime Material
world, huge monstrosities that rarely rise to the surface, which suits the bashers livin‘ and sailin‘ on the river
just fine.

Chant says that the Oceanus has been expanding into the first layer of Ysgard, forming a connection to the
homes of the Asgardian pantheon and their followers. Mayhap. There are less likely things, like the Styx
flowing into Nessus, the lowest layer o‘ Baator, but if ‘tis happenin‘, it ain‘t a stable path yet.

Mount Olympus
On prime worlds where the powers of the Olympian pantheon are worshipped, the mortals tell tales of a
massive mountain their gods call kip. Well, like a few clueless tales, this story‘s pretty much true. On the Outer
Planes there really does exist a towering mountain that links the cases of the Olympian deities, a mountain
that makes a safe route for planar travel if‘n a blood knows the way of its paths. Mount Olympus connects to
Arborea, the Gray Waste, Carceri, Gehenna, and every prime world where the Olympians are worshipped. But
most of the gateways can only be used by worshippers of the Olympian pantheon, and unbelievers find their
selves stranded on the Gray Waste. But the Olympian powers are some of the most popular out there, so the
mountain still sees lots o‘ hikers.

Travelin‘ Olympus is like travelin‘ any other mountain, really; get where ye want by climbin‘. Some places, the
slope o‘ the mount is gentle and the climb easy, at others the slopes become rocky cliff faces that can spill
berks o‘er infinite drops, drop showers of boulders on ‘em, or slap ‘em about with bitin‘ winds. The gateways
to the other planes look like colorful, freestanding disks, hidden behind rocks an‘ woods or in deep caverns. A
body can‘t see through ‘em, so a basher has to step through to find out where they go. They‘re usually two-
way, so a basher can get back out if ‘tis not a plane they‘re lookin‘ for. Well, unless they end up in Carceri; that
plane‘s never been one to let berks leave easy. Areas that see lots o‘ travel have paths carved into them by
merchants and caravans to make the trek easier. Great monuments and temples built by mortal and immortal
beings alike also dot the landscape, providing a welcome restin‘ spot for weary travelers, though just like the
disks, only the faithful get any hospitality there. These great marble palaces are covered with statues of
deities and mortal heroes, and have endless courtyards filled with pretty marble statues, and lovely gardens
and orchards. It‘s all a bit on the showy side, but ‘tis nice enough. ‘Sides the flocks o‘ sheep, temples,
vineyards and orchards, Olympus has many glades and forests, where fey bashers like satyrs and nymphs
are said to cavort around. The path is also guarded by hounds, mountain spirits, and other mystical beasts.
Again, it‘s a nice way to travel around if ye follow the Olympian gods.

Yggdrassil, the Great Tree

Yggdrassil‘s a lot like Mount Olympus; ‘tis really,
really big and connects up wit‘ all the places
important to a particular pantheon, the
Asgardians this time. And the World Tree is
spoken of on many prime worlds, where followers
of the Asgardian pantheon say that the different
realms and worlds of existence are cradled in the
great ash tree. Mayhap their belief in such a thing
made the tree grow, or mayhap they heard
stories about it. Either way, Yggdrassil is one of
the main planar pathways. It looks like a massive
tree with branches that can be miles around, its
bark be silver and flaky, like gray clay, and its
leaves‘re shimmering blue-black ovals.

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Ysgard has many connections to the World Tree, as does Hel‘s realm in the Gray Waste. Loki‘s realm in
Pandemonium has a connection to the World Ash, an‘ so do scattered points in the Outlands. The site called
Pinwheel in Limbo also has a connection to one of the World Tree‘s routes, though why this be so is dark,
‘cause it don‘t seem to have anythin‘ to do wit‘ the Asgardian pantheon.

To get where ye‘re goin‘, just walk along the tree and find the right colorful, disk-shaped portals. Lots o‘
merchants an‘ planewalkers climb the branches, and ‘tis also home to the squirrel-like ratatosk, friendly
cutters who can be hired as guides. ‘Tis also guarded by eagles, aasimon, yugoloths, and even the legendary
dragon Nidhogg who lies at the tree‘s roots (though he doesn‘t so much guard as vent his frustration on any
poor sod who comes by). Gravity on Yggdrassil goes towards the center of the branch that a basher is
standin‘ on and moving from branch to branch can be unsettlin‘ when gravity moves over to the new branch
almost instantly. Any poor sod who falls off a limb ends up in the Astral Plane, and‘ll have to find another way.
The portals on the tree move around a bit as the tree sways in the Astral winds, but trips across Yggdrassil
almost never take more than a week.

The Infinite Staircase

There‘s one last important planar pathway — the Infinite Staircase. The Infinite Staircase is what it sounds
like: a set of stairs that stretches beyond all horizons, takin‘ a cutter to the depths o‘ the Hells or to the heights
o‘ the Heavens. ‘Tis a spiralin‘ silver staircase with ivy hangin‘ from it here an‘ there. No support can be seen
for the Staircase, which is twenty feet wide, and is inside a silver tower shaft. Along the Staircase are
platforms o‘ wood or marble, some straight, some curvin‘, and each one leadin‘ to doors or even more
stairways. The platforms are of many makes, from small doorsteps with a wooden door to large platforms that
stretch out o‘ sight wit‘ yawnin‘ archways.

Openin‘ one o‘ these doors, it opens into a quiet, out-o‘-the-way area somewhere on the planes, coming out a
door that the locals pay no mind. It could be in an abandoned building, or in the corner of a dusty basement,
though usually the door takes a planewalker to an inhabited burg o‘ some sort. So, what kinds of planes are
these? Any kind. The Staircase connects to any place in the multiverse where creativity and imagination
springs up. ‘Tain‘t as pleasant as it first sounds, rube. This could mean a trip to a pain garden in Baator or a
potter‘s shed on the Prime. Bloods can usually get a feel for the type of place a door goes to by the
surroundin‘s and the materials ‘tis made of. I once stumbled across a door of stretched, humanoid skin
painted with bloody symbols, on a shadowy landing wit‘ the soft sound o‘ moans comin‘ from somewhere just
beyond knowin‘. I was sure that weren‘t what I was lookin‘ for. Hoofed it up another staircase right quick. Most
doors ain‘t so obvious, but there‘s always some clue.

Climbers of the Infinite Staircase may have a trip ahead o‘ them. No graybeard knows how many doors there
be, though many have tried to find out. If they have a specific door they‘re heading for, it may be days away.
That‘s a lot of walking up or down, and the Staircase ain‘t kind to berks who cheat with magic. Fliers who stay
close to the stairs do all right, but if they try to take a shortcut to another set o‘ stairs or landing, they‘re likely
to get sucked into a fold in space and spit out onto the planes somewhere. Teleporters risk the same danger,
as does anyone who jumps, dives, or is pushed off the stairs.

Those walking the Staircase may meet the occasional fellow traveler or see no one for days. The
Planewalker‘s Guild has taken over a massive landing as their kip high up on the Staircase, and I can tell ye
that a body can do worse than joinin‘ up with those bloods. A fine bunch, interested in nothin‘ so much as
learnin‘ the paths o‘ the planes. Travelers might also run into the lillends, servants o‘ Selûne, the moon
goddess. The Staircase starts in the goddess‘s palace, and she takes an interest in who‘s usin‘ it. If‘n the
planewalkers have a close relationship to creativity, chaos, and good, they may get help from the lillends,
mostly by getting directions or warnings o‘ dangers. If the lillends feel the planewalkers themselves are one o‘
those dangers, they won‘t be shy about nickin‘ the “intruders”.

The Staircase is one o‘ the most useful of all planar pathways, but planar travelers often choose other routes.
I‘ve always found it a great way to get about, like the City o‘ Doors with all the different kinds o‘ portals, but for
many berks, ‘tis real lonely. It can be mighty tiring to travel the Staircase, and caravans are right out. The other
planar pathways don‘t provide as many destinations, but the ones they do are mapped out much better. But
the truly adventurous, or the just plain lost, can be found walkin‘ up and down the silver steps, openin‘ doors
that lead to worlds beyond the ones they know.

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Using Magic
Canny bloods don‘t trek around the Great Ring without some form of protection to help them out against all
the dangers the planes are host to. Planewalkers usually get chummy with a spellcaster or two, if their own
talents don‘t go that way, if only because such cutters tend to have ways to survive new environments. Of
course, most bashers also use potions and other enchanted items made to give their bearers protection. After
all, creatures have made their homes in just about every dank corner of the planes, buildin‘ communities in
every bizarre and hazardous situation ye can think of. While some creatures‘re naturally able to exist in those
spots, many planars do so only with the help of magic. And though many o‘ us have other talents, the canny
blood learns to respect what magic can offer. If not, ye‘d best stay home.

On the other hand, a lot of the Clueless come to think that magic is the end-all-be-all o‘ planewalking, and that
‘tis all a basher needs to get around. But if everythin‘ were that simple, we‘d all put away our weapons and
pull out some dusty tome, wouldn‘t we? Truth is, magic ain‘t nearly as reliable as it is on most prime worlds.
Spellslingers have to keep in mind planar cosmology so they don‘t try castin‘ spells that rely on the Astral
Plane in the Inner Planes. That arrogant look won‘t stay on their faces long when that important spell fizzles.
What‘s worse, some parts o‘ the multiverse make certain type of spells more difficult or impossible to cast,
meaning survival depends on old-fashioned, sweaty methods.

Variant: Planar Environments Affecting Spells

Some DMs may feel that magic trivializes certain aspects of planewalking. Climbing the frigid peaks of
Ysgard isn‘t as much of an adventure when using endure elements, nor is reaching a distant realm difficult
when using a teleport spell. There are a variety of ways the DM can choose to have the planes respond to
these spells, though the spells themselves become a bit more unreliable in doing so. Teleport and similar
spells may not be as accurate on more morphic (i.e. chaotic planes), and may fail altogether when attempting
to enter some realms or sacred areas as the powers there might wish to prevent outsiders from finding them.
When in regions of the multiverse that have particularly nasty environments as part of the plane‘s overall
philosophy, spellcasters may find spells such as endure elements and attune form gradually being eroded,
their duration shortened or even requiring concentration to maintain after a certain point. Players should
eventually be able to overcome these restrictions or be able to find specialized spells that work properly on
the particular plane. In addition, spellcasters should always detect the latter complications when casting a
spell and magical items shouldn‘t be affected, as there‘s no cause for invalidating hard-earned gold. The
three most important things to keep in mind are not to drown players in tediousness, don‘t make them feel
like their powers are useless, and be consistent. With that in mind, eventually players will reach a point where
hopping from plane to plane is a simple task, and it should be, if only to allow them to deal with more
interesting matters.

With that in mind, some places should never be accessible by normal spellcraft, including mysterious places
such as the seventh layer of Mount Celestia or the ninth layer of Baator. Whatever forces hold sway there
make sure no one can barge in uninvited (or leave without permission). Nor can one plane shift to the Ordial
Plane, if it truly exists. Some destinations simply require journeys more taxing than magic.

But properly prepared magic

often makes the difference
between a dead party and a
live one. Spellcasters worth
their scrolls will allow for the
basics. Have some spells to
make light with, since not all
planes have much in the way
of their own sources of
illuminatin‘. Tongues is real
handy when talking to the
weird bashers most
planewalkers run into. Lastly,
avoid planar effects (or
better yet, attune form) is a
handy all-around spell to
keep casters and their
friends alive.

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 The Outer Planes
Hajzeek Gnarl-Hoof

The Outer Planes are created by the thoughts, hopes, dreams, an‘ beliefs o‘ the Prime. While some might
want to argue this point, the vast majority don‘t for good reason. Each plane represents an aspect o‘ mortal
existence an‘ belief. This ranges from the depths o‘ depravity in the Abyss, to the heights o‘ moral an‘ ethical
purity in Mount Celestia. Ye may notice that some o‘ 'em planes are even what yon prime would call heaven,
hell, or the afterlife. An‘ since these planes are built up out o‘ those very beliefs, for all intents an‘ purposes,
they‘re right. That‘s what a petitioner on any o‘ the Outer Planes is after all, a dead mortal soul gone to their
last repose.

The Outer Planes are arranged in what we think o‘ as a giant wheel. The Great Wheel, in fact. The planes are
positioned side by side around it, placin‘ similar plane beside similar plane until one comes right back around
where one came from. A unity o‘ rings. Two things, the Outlands an‘ the Great Road, reinforce this wheel
arrangement. The Outlands are the center o‘ the Wheel, a plane o‘ true neutrality where its 'edges‘, an‘ I use
the word lightly, reach the borders o‘ the other Outer Planes, at which point the Outlands begin to surrender
somethin‘ o‘ its flavor to its neighbors. These points are built up wit‘ burgs, the gate-towns, which have
established 'emselves on the inter-planar trade. Secondly, the Great Road is a planar highway that journeys
throughout the Wheel an‘ is one o‘ the few ways a basher can simply walk from one plane to the next. The trip
is long an‘ quite a pain from what I understand, so be damned if ye‘ll see me walkin‘ it. Both the Outlands an‘
the Great Road, though, agree on the order in which the planes exist around the Wheel.

It‘s worthwhile to note for some o‘ ye who‘re from the Prime Material, that the Outer Planes don‘t “lay beside”
the Ethereal Plane. They just don‘t touch at any point what-so-ever. How do we know this? Simple: any spell
that relies on the Ethereal bein‘ around fails miserably on the Outer Planes. That means no ethereal jaunt,
blink, or other such thing. Once ye get a better grasp o‘ what each plane is ye‘ll see why this makes sense,
but for now just keep that in mind in yer travels.

Organization of the Great Wheel

There‘re a lot o‘ planes out there, an‘ to a clueless it can be a little hard to sort 'em all out. Folks look for a
pattern in a lot o‘ things, even things that don‘t necessarily have one, 'cause it‘s easier to remember that way.
Luckily the Outer Planes do have patterns to 'em, so they‘re easier for the clueless to know basically what
they‘re about.

The Planes of Law are those lands tied to some notion o‘

order, whether for the benefit o‘ society or 'cause o‘ some
inherent rules governing existence. The Planes of Law
include Mount Celestia, Arcadia, Mechanus, Acheron, an‘
Baator.

The Planes of Chaos espouse the ideals o‘ freedom,

individuality, change, an‘ independence from the control o‘
others. The planes 'emselves manifest this ethos an‘ tend to
be considerably more dynamic an‘ unrestrained compared
to other lands. The Planes of Chaos are Arborea, Ysgard,
Limbo, Pandemonium, an‘ the Abyss.

The Planes of Conflict are caught between the conflictin‘

values o‘ order an‘ freedom, society an‘ individuality. Each
tries to find its own balance, though none exists in perfect
harmony. These planes include the Outlands, Bytopia,
Elysium, the Beastlands, Gehenna, the Grey Waste, an‘
Carceri.

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Though most planars rely upon the previous categories, primes tend to slice things along the axis o‘ good an‘
evil.

The Upper Planes are associated wit‘ the concept o‘ good an‘ are generally what a clueless means when
they‘re talkin‘ about heaven (unless their idea o‘ heaven is seriously skewed). The Upper Planes include
Mount Celestia, Bytopia, Elysium, the Beastlands, an‘ Arborea.

Opposite the Upper Planes, the Lower Planes are the various hells, a point even most planars wouldn‘t
argue. They‘re tinged in at least some fashion wit‘ evil. The Lower Planes are Baator, Gehenna, the Grey
Wastes, Carceri, an‘ the Abyss.

Between heaven an‘ hell, the Neutral Planes are the lands either less concerned wit‘ or devoted to some
balance o‘ good an‘ evil. The Neutral Planes are Arcadia, Mechanus, Acheron, Ysgard, Limbo, Pandemonium,
an‘ the Outlands itself.

Planar Alignment: The outer planes are associated strongly with the beliefs and alignments of the Prime. As
a result these planes may have a significant effect on those whose alignments do not match that of the plane.
These affects stack should a character fall under more than one affect.

Mildly aligned: Those of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Strongly aligned: Those not of this alignment are at a -2 to Cha, Int, Wis checks.

Variant: Alternate Alignment Penalties

DMs may wish to ignore this rule, to encourage characters to explore planes they may otherwise avoid for
the detrimental effects. The DM is encouraged to develop her own penalties for the planes as well, to reflect
the local atmosphere of the planar environment.

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153
 The Outlands
Speakin‘ o‘ the Outlands, let‘s begin our little tour there, shall we? The Outlands are in the smack center o‘ the
Great Wheel. They represent complete neutrality, what some o‘ the clerical bent would call “true neutral”.
They‘re also the holdin‘ spot for all those things that don‘t yet fit anywhere else in the Outer Planes; that which
is not yet well-defined or which defies bein‘ placed neatly within any one plane‘s basis o‘ belief. Since it
touches on all o‘ the Outer Planes, the Outlands are one o‘ the major planes o‘ transit, an‘ it is through this
plane that ye‘ll see armies march, merchant caravans pass, an‘ many a planewalker make their winterin‘
quarters.

Not that they need to 'winter‘ at all really, the Outlands don‘t have much to speak o‘ when it comes to regular
weather or even sunlight. Like Sigil, the light in the Outlands dims an‘ brightens on a regular schedule, but
there is no apparent sun as the source o‘ it. The environment o‘ any particular place in the Outlands tends to
reflect the environment o‘ the nearest planar contact. As an example, near Elysium the land is nice an‘ green
an‘ fertile. Near, say, the Abyss, ye‘ll have never seen a harsher more desolate an‘ unfriendly expanse o‘ land.
The Outlands can give ye an example o‘ most any type o‘ land ye‘d see on the Prime as ye make yer way
around it, so it‘s best to have a rough idea o‘ what manner o‘ plane is closest to where ye‘re goin‘ so ye can
be prepared for nice or nasty environments.

The Outlands are constantly growin‘ an‘ fadin‘. Remember what I said about belief formin‘ reality within the
Outer Planes? Well, the Outlands are the clearest example o‘ it. Where they border the other planes—at the
gate-towns—if the area there gets too much like the other plane, it‘ll just slide on over. One day there will be a
town in the Outlands, the next day there won‘t. What determines a slide? Usually it‘s the strength o‘ the local
belief, though in the case o‘ gate-towns to the Abyss, usually it‘s 'cause a tanar‘ri army came rumblin‘ through
an‘ killed every other poor sod livin‘ there. Truth is, most petitioners in the gate-towns are tryin’ to get their little
burg to shift, they just haven‘t figured out what they‘re doin‘ wrong. Eventually they tumble to the dark o‘ it,
though, an‘ so the Outlands seems to be constantly losin‘ little bits an‘ pieces o‘ itself to the rest o‘ the Outer
Planes as the belief strengthens.

The Hinterlands

In a similar manner though, the Outlands is gainin‘ ground as other Outer Planes lose bits o‘ 'emselves, an‘ as
the Hinterlands o‘ the Outlands keep growin‘. The Hinterlands are the lands beyond the gate-towns, an‘ as far
as the rest o‘ the planes are concerned, they‘re one big giant question mark. It is in this area that one finds
everything that just doesn‘t souse into any other category. The mysterious, the unknown, an‘ the hard to
define. Some think it‘s where our beliefs break down. Space an‘ time become wild, an‘ places o‘ the past
mingle wit‘ those o‘ the future. It may be where the planes as we know 'em cease to exist, givin‘ way to
nothingness.

Another common theory is that it‘s where the true ideas o‘ the Outlands reside, those concepts that are
distinct an‘ powerful yet can be turned to any purpose, good or evil, lawful or chaotic. Picture a field o‘ mirrors,
a tower o‘ eternally ringin‘ bells, towns devoted to the meanings o‘ a single word, streams o‘ colors, an‘ so
forth. Perhaps the powers o‘ the Hinterlands are embodiments o‘ mortal archetypes, those models that we
empower wit‘ our associated beliefs in 'em: the Mother, the King, the Philosopher, or the Planewalker.
Recognized by the collective minds o‘ the multiverse, it seems fittin‘ that such ideas would live in a place that
is distinct yet ill-defined an‘ obscure.

Travel in the Hinterlands is probably the best example o‘ travel by belief in the Outer Planes. The Hinterlands
defy mappin‘, an‘ one day‘s travel may find ye in a place where it takes four days to get back to where ye
started. The land shifts, an‘ between a glance at yer friend (don‘t travel without a buddy system, ok? I‘d like to
see ye back again, ye know) ye‘ll find the nice mountain valley ye were travelin‘ along has transmuted into a
seaside beach path. The Hinterlands is a fun, if extremely confusin‘, journey. But ye can generally get where
ye‘re goin‘ if ye know where it is ye‘re aimin‘ for. It may take a day, a week or longer, but ye‘ll get there. As for
gettin‘ back; no matter how far out into the Hinterlands ye‘ve traveled, if ye set yer sights on returnin‘ to the
Ringlands it‘ll take no less than one day an‘ no more than three. Myself, I say there‘s a lot of very dangerous
and very odd things out there and unless y‘crossin‘ my palm with a hefty amount of jink, you‘d best find
someone else to take you on a tour.

154
The Ringlands

While the Hinterlands stretch beyond the gate-towns, the area between 'em is called the Ringlands. This is a
gigantic circle o‘ land, about 2400 miles in diameter which forms the known Outlands. Therein are divine
realms, mortal towns an‘ kingdoms, monstrous dens, merchant roads, an‘ o‘ course, the gate-towns
'emselves. It doesn‘t feature as many unique planar features as the other Outer Planes, an‘ instead runs the
gamut o‘ terrain found on the Prime Material (not that such environments can‘t be interestin‘ an‘ deadly, too).

The residents o‘ the Ringlands are a fairly mixed lot, some choosin‘ to not devote 'emselves to any particular
philosophy an‘ others actively servin‘ their notion o‘ Balance in any way they can. Petitioners o‘ the Outlands
have a bad reputation for their tendency to swin‘ back an‘ forth, followin‘ a good deed wit‘ an evil one, in order
to maintain their neutrality. That‘s just a small minority, though, as most o‘ 'em just want to serve their power
or, in the case o‘ those near the gate-towns, merge wit‘ the plane o‘ their desire. Dead souls aside, there are
lots o‘ folk who make kip in the Outlands cause they see a profit to be had in the communities along the
valuable tradin‘ routes or who fancy the idea o‘ buildin‘ their own societies where the gods are less likely to
interfere.

What gives the Ringlands their name is the ol‘ concentric ring formation o‘ the land. Leadin‘ up to the Spire in
the center, at a width o‘ about 100 miles give or take – they move - are a series o‘ rings. Each ring steadily
degrades the use o‘ magic within its boundaries, startin‘ wit‘ the most powerful spells first. This even happens
to the spells that some bloods can cast as naturally as breathin‘, an‘ the powers o‘ the mind wielded by
psions. It can also be quite annoyin‘ when a teleport misfires an‘ lands ye close enough to the Spire to prevent
ye from teleportin‘ to where ye wanted to go, meanin‘ ye have a quite obnoxious walk ahead o‘ ye. More
importantly for some folks (like the Athar), the strength o‘ the gods 'emselves begin to fail as they get closer to
the Spire. Oh, they‘re still powers an‘ should be respected, but they start to get to where they can‘t throw
lightning at ye or blow ye up by thinkin‘ it. All things considered, this does make the Outlands a great place to
hold a meetin‘ if ye don‘t trust the other side.

Now, the way magic works is odd. Ye would think the weakest spells were the ones to go first, but that‘s just
not so. It‘s the highest power ones that go first, like magic itself is runnin‘ out o‘ juice to power the most
powerful o‘ spells the closer ye get to the Spire. The effect starts just within the gate-towns, an‘ covers even
those magics bandied about by archmages (who really ought to be out puttin‘ 'emselves to some good use
instead o‘ tryin‘ t‘ prove somethin‘ on the Outlands). Where the rings 'emselves are places is a little fuzzy, as
the Outlands shift around often enough that one finds it hard to measure exactly where one ring begins an‘ the
next ends without just walkin‘ every few feet an‘ tryin‘ to cast a spell. It‘s not like anyone‘s walked round the
Spire nine times wit‘ a paintbrush to draw a line. So, the best we have is an estimate o‘ distance.

155
Variant: Epic Magic at the 9th Ring
As an extension of the pattern of magic established by the Ringlands. Past the 9th ring, where the gate-
towns are and where all spells of 9th level or below work on the Outlands - epic magic (10th level and up)
fails. Epic magic will work outside of the gate-towns in the Hinterland.

The Spire

Climbin‘ the Spire is a joke a lot o‘ planars would play on the clueless primes they meet. Unless ye‘ve got a
thing for hopeless causes, don‘t bother. The Spire is a great mountain, or spike o‘ rock the size o‘ a mountain,
in the middle o‘ the Ringlands. It‘s visible from the entirety o‘ the Outlands, an‘ dimly atop it may be seen the
little tiny ring that is Sigil. But as far as anyone knows the damn thing is infinitely tall. An‘ without magical
assistance, it‘s not like one can swiftly go to the top. If ye are goin‘ to climb, an‘ there are some spectacular
views an‘ puzzlin‘ things up the side o‘ the Spire worth seein‘, ye‘ll want to be either a very experienced
climber or have wings. Preferably both. But don‘t bother climbin‘ it to try an‘ get into Sigil. Like I said, infinitely
tall. Even if ye can see Sigil up there, ye won‘t ever reach. It‘s a planar paradox, so don‘t give yerself too big a
headache tryin‘ to figure it out.

At the foot o‘ the Spire even the gods cannot reach, which is just as well for at least some o‘ the residents
there. The Athar, those god-hatin‘ an‘ currently god-fearin‘ factioners moved to the foot o‘ the Spire after they
were tossed out o‘ Sigil by the Lady of Pain, along wit‘ all the other factions. A lot o‘ 'em are too scared to go
back to Sigil an‘ too scared to wander out o‘ the Outlands an‘ face the wrath o‘ the gods they‘ve ticked off in
the past. Looks like their buildin‘ a whole community there bereft o‘ magic or divine aid, barmy as that sounds.

The other residents o‘ the area are ones ye‘d better respect greatly, or just avoid if at all possible. I‘m talkin‘
about the rilmani, the exemplars o‘ true neutrality in the multiverse, who live at the center o‘ the Outlands as
well. Chant is they view 'emselves as defenders o‘ Balance an‘ subtly interfere whenever the forces o‘ one
alignment appear to be on the verge o‘ dominatin‘ another, though that hasn‘t stopped layers from shiftin‘ an‘
gods from fallin‘, so who knows what the dark o‘ it is. They‘re a mysterious lot an‘ quite defensive o‘ their
secrets, so one had best approach 'em cautiously.

156
 The Gate-Towns

Arranged evenly at the edges o‘ the known Outlands an‘ the

Hinterlands are the gate-towns, named such 'cause each
possesses two large portals, one that leads to Sigil an‘ one that
leads to the Outer Plane the burg‘s closest to. Along wit‘ the fact
that the Great Road also makes use o‘ the gate-towns as
pathways between the Outer Planes, each town is a prominent
locale in its own right. In the land between 'em an‘ the Spire one
will see the most foot traffic on the planes in the form o‘ armies,
merchants, adventurers, an‘ even migratin‘ animals. An‘ one can
make a pretty large load o‘ jink escortin‘ merchants to protect 'em
against the bandits an‘ thieves around the towns.

When a gate-town slips into another plane, a new town on the

Outlands takes its place, seemin‘ly at random. The portals move
to the new gate-town an‘ the process starts over again. Most o‘
the current batch have been around for decades or longer, but the
years since the Faction War have some changes in the gate-
towns, so give a close ear an‘ we‘ll get ye all caught up to date.

Courage

One day, Courage was just there. The entire town was just there. It even had name-signs an‘ everything, just
so that nobody could be in any doubt as to its name. Pretty much the only thing it didn‘t have was people;
there was no evidence that anyone had ever been in Courage. But then, there had never been any buildings
in that spot 'fore either. It didn‘t take long for people to start arrivin‘, though, not once they‘d worked out the
one really important thing that Courage had. It had the gate to Arcadia. The gate Fortitude once held.

The gate-town is dead; long live the gate-town.

Courage could almost have been designed by a modron, given its layout. The town is built in a grid fashion
around the main central square, called the Heart. Its outer walls are rounded an‘ egg-shaped, much like its
predecessor, leavin‘ many to believe it‘s just the next in the series. But in general, Courage‘s residents don‘t
have the same fanatical attitude as Fortitude‘s folk. In part, that‘s 'cause some believe that it was Fortitude‘s
arrogant conviction o‘ its own perfection was what caused the old gate-town to lose the Arcadia gate in the
first place. An‘ undoubtedly the fact that a larger proportion o‘ Courage‘s population are neither Hardheads nor
Arcadian petitioners affects the overall psyche o‘ the town.

Still, those who enter the town in the belief that it is a softer touch than Fortitude was are soon disabused o‘
that notion. It is not a softer touch, merely a different touch. The vast majority o‘ the residents are still lawful,
mostly either good or neutral, an‘ devoted to the common welfare an‘ the perfection o‘ society for all that is the
hallmark o‘ Arcadia. Many sages believe that Courage‘s greater humility an‘ generosity already make it further
on the road to slippin‘ to Arcadia than Fortitude ever reached.

Excelsior

Excelsior is the ideal form o‘ any burg ye can think up. Gold-flecked streets, orderly an‘ secure, an‘ rife wit‘
paladins. Laid out at the top o‘ a low hill, the streets ‗emselves glow at night, an‘ warmth (literally) pervades
the place, stoppin‘ the residents from even needin‘ to light a fire to keep the cold away. In all ways, this place
is just itchin‘ to try to get into the first layer o‘ Mount Celestia like the nearby Heart‘s Faith managed.

The city itself is only roughly broken up into districts. The center holds the highest towers an‘ kips o‘ those
high-ups that don‘t have their own flyin‘ domains. Outside the center can be found the homes, inns, markets,
an‘ other buildings o‘ the town. The fields o‘ wheat that keep the place fed an‘ the clay banks o‘ the nearby
river that produce bricks for buildin‘ are found just outside the edges o‘ the residential areas. Floatin‘ castles
maintain a protective perimeter around the city from the sky, while on the ground a number o‘ similar citadels
can be found, the homes o‘ paladins who have retired an‘ brought their homes to rest on the edge o‘ town.

157
Tradegate

As one might guess by the name, Tradegate is a city o‘ commerce, dominated by a grand bazaar in the center
o‘ the star-shaped city. The inhabitants hope to make their burg a mercantile center the equal, or the better, o‘
Sigil itself, and they ain‘t all that far from that goal. Tradegate even mints its own coins, but most o‘ the town‘s
merchants accept barter as well as jink.

Tradegate is one o‘ the most commonly used towns for adventurin‘ parties to hole up in. Nice an‘ safe, without
much to disrupt it, the town has plenty o‘ cutters from Bytopia or the Indeps to trade wit‘ an‘ not too much
trouble. Lately, though, ye may want to keep an eye out, 'cause Estavan‘s Planar Trade Consortium has been
makin‘ waves in this peaceful burg.

The law in Tradegate ain‘t as oppressive or judgmental as some people find it in Excelsior or Courage. For the
most part, as long as a body doesn‘t do anything obviously evil or harmful— murder, stealin‘, an‘ the like—
they won‘t be bothered. The one thing that the locals do get uppity about, however, is sloth. A berk who likes
to loaf an‘ take advantage o‘ others instead o‘ workin‘ ain‘t goin‘ to make many friends here, an‘ there are strict
laws against vagrancy an‘ loiterin‘.

Ecstasy

Ecstasy. Wit‘ a name like that, what could there be not to like? It‘s a casual place, indulgent in many ways o‘
the needs an‘ desires o‘ its populace. This includes a rather loose definition o‘ the word 'borrow‘, but so long
as ye don‘t throw too much o‘ a fuss yer belongings should make their way back to ye 'fore ye leave. Or ye
may just have to borrow 'em back.

If ye‘re in the mood for entertainment or debate, or both, there‘s a place in town that hosts ongoin‘
philosophical debates. The arguments, an‘ they do sometimes get rather heated (that‘s the entertainment
part), are mediated by an odd fellow known as the Philosopher King. There‘s a new king there now, the old
one havin‘ retired, an‘ this King is a fellow I don‘t suggest ye tangle wit‘. A risen ultraloth, if ye can imagine
such a thing, an‘ a rather extraordinary debater given his understandin‘ o‘ the principles involved.

Outside o‘ town can be found tall pillars, the 'homes‘ o‘ meditatin‘ celestials an‘ other philosophers that make
their case here. Bring yer climbin‘ equipment if ye plan to have a cuppa wit‘ 'em, but bear in mind not all o‘ 'em
are too talkative.

Faunel

Faunel resembles nothin‘ more than a broken-down city abandoned thousands o‘ years ago. In fact, that‘s
probably what it is. Some even think the town absorbs ruins from throughout the Prime, an‘ there are a fair
number of gates in Faunel leadin‘ there. If the gate-town were intact an‘ full, it could probably house around
fifty thousand people, which gives some idea o‘ the sprawlin‘ size o‘ the place. Now it‘s a ruin, overgrown wit‘
plants an‘ animal life. I wouldn‘t suggest tryin‘ to build up a real case here though; it‘s a wild place an‘ the town
an‘ its residents don‘t have any appreciation for construction on their turf.

The town can be split broadly into three main areas, each showin‘ a different face o‘ nature. Along the spire-
facing side, from the route through which most visitors to Faunel approach, the terrain is dry an‘ arid, an‘ the
wind blows dust through an abandoned desert town. Off to the right part o‘ town, swamp is slowly taking back
the buildings, most o‘ which are at least partially submerged. It‘s still warm, but much damper, wit‘ a constantly
high humidity. Mosquitoes buzz through the air, an‘ all manner o‘ insects an‘ other small creatures scrape a
living in the undergrowth. The remainder o‘ Faunel is jungle, wit‘ vines an‘ creepers growin‘ on the remainin‘
stonework, an‘ trees pushin‘ their way through roofs.

Most o‘ the humanoids reside in the jungle or desert parts o‘ town, though there is a small community o‘ lizard
folk that have taken to the swampy areas. Most folk make their case in town under multicoloured tarps, each
one distinct enough that there‘s no real risk of getting‘ lost among the tents. But the majority o‘ Faunel‘s
residents are animals or beasts o‘ one variety o‘ another. Many are petitioners from the Beastlands, an‘ they
tend to live in the area that most suits their temperament an‘ pattern o‘ life.

158
Sylvania

Sylvania is a party town, wit‘ plenty o‘ bars, inns, shows, an‘ the like. There‘s tons o‘ eladrin an‘ Sensates (an‘
Sensate eladrin just to make it more fun) all over the place. It is a place teemin‘ wit‘ life an‘ energy at all hours
o‘ the day an‘ night, an‘ a body can always be sure to find their particular brand o‘ entertainment in one o‘ the
many inns or taverns that litter the streets. If you‘re lookin‘ to relax after a hard couple o‘ days, this is the
place.

There is an atmosphere o‘ fierce independence, autonomy, an‘ creativity that permeates the air o‘ Arborea‘s
gate-town. The diversity o‘ form an‘ function is readily apparent when walkin‘ down any o‘ Sylvania‘s avenues.
Individualism an‘ freedom o‘ expression can be seen in every facet o‘ life, from architecture to economy to
nature. Most notable o‘ the architectural variety is the Sensate Embassy, which is a majestic pyramid, created
entirely o‘ petrified wood! Amidst the majestic splendor o‘ the Embassy, a body cannot miss the temples that
call kip to this jovial an‘ irreverent town. In spite o‘ it all, if a traveler finds their way to Sylvania, they‘re sure to
find a good time…an‘ perhaps more!

Alicia De'Morlina

Glorium

One of the smallest of the gate-towns, Glorium is little more than a village perched within a valley formed from
the same mountain ranges as the Dwarven Mountain. It can be reached in two ways, by water through the
fjord or by land through a road that snakes its way through the rough mountains. Most folks travel by water to
this town, for in addition to the poor upkeep of the road, large predators roam the forests of these mountains,
and there is always the risk of petitioners of Illsensine or Gzemnid causing trouble along the way. The realms
of both of these monstrous gods are somewhere within the tangled caverns beneath the mountains. The fjord
is an inlet of the Oceanus, deep enough to accommodate the longboats that are favored in Ysgard.

This is a small place, where everyone knows each other. Outsiders are welcome, though they will find few
accommodations for themselves. Glorium has no inns or bars, and visitors who intend to stay overnight will
need to make friends right fast with one of the residents. Luckily, they‘re a hospitable people and they
generally have room to spare within one of the long houses of the town. Guests of Glorium had better observe
their manners, though, as the locales are not the type of people to put up with attitude.

Xaos

Now here‘s a gate-town I can‘t even summarize. The place is

linked to Limbo, and changes almost as fast. The city has many
names: Xaos, or Axos, or Soxa, or AdeDaaga. It depends. On
something. Maybe. Watch out for slaadi, as they‘re as like to
chew your face off as they are to perform a street mime act for
you. Or both. In addition, Xsao has no government, except when
it has one. Actually, you’re in charge of Aoxs. Only not anymore.

Osxa has been about the same—which is to say, always

changing—for as long as anyone can remember. Whether or not
it‘s always been the same burg is another matter. Chant is Xaso
has been constantly slipping back and forth between the
Outlands and Limbo for ages, or that it‘s slipped into Limbo many
times and been replaced by a different town. Given the it‘s
propensity for constant change, and the fact that even its
inhabitants change and possibly replicate, it all amounts to more
or less the same thing.

You see that earthenware pot over there? The blue one? It‘s
talking about you behind your back. Err…yeah, the place is
barmy.

159
Bedlam

Bedlam‘s the kind of place where a body can never tell what‘s going to happen next, but can be pretty sure it‘s
going to be bad. The place is as barmy as Xaos, but in a much more malicious way—the madmen of Xaos
may be unpredictable and confusing, but they‘re as likely to mean well as they are to mean ill, while in Bedlam
you can usually count on foul intentions.

The wind that howls from the gate to Pandemonium has the same effect in Bedlam as it does in its plane of
origin, and no one in the burg is quite sane. Bedlamites jump at the slightest noise (other than the ever-
present howl of the wind), and shuffle about arguing with voices that only they can hear. The price of earplugs
here is heavily inflated, so you‘d best pick them up elsewhere, since you‘ll need them if you‘re going to
Pandemonium.

Most of the people in Bedlam won‘t need much excuse to plant a dagger in a sod‘s back. They‘re peery to the
point of paranoia, and usually figure they have to get you before you get them. Bedlam is a hotbed of plotting
and treachery; a body‘s got to watch their step here if they don‘t want to end up in the dead-book or worse.

Blight

Yeah, I‘ve been to Blight, where the old gate-town Plague-Mort use to be. Even shared a piss-tasting drink
with an ogre mage there. I guess they figured if they used a different name for the new burg maybe this time it
wouldn‘t shift. It‘s still right close to the Abyss and has a high percentage of tanar‘ri and other miserable sods,
so I wouldn‘t bet on the name change doing much good.

Now, Blight is nowhere near as big as Plague-Mort was, not yet, but it‘s growing. It‘s population is mostly evil
humanoids: orcs, the bulk of ‘em, or at least a good plurality, with a good supply of troglodytes, gnolls,
harpies, minotaurs, and other beasties. All those monsters don‘t get along much better than they do anywhere
else, so really, Blight‘s less a coherent city than it is a bunch of disordered towns that are right next to each
other and constantly at war. It certainly ain‘t the mercantile outpost the last gate-town was, but they‘re trying to
get their act together (the key word being “try”).

The good news, as far as anything 'round here can be called good, is there‘s not much in the way of tanar‘ri
influence in the new town yet, and if anything seems able to unite the locales it‘s keeping themselves out of
the Abyss. They‘re even tolerating a household of Harmonium orcs that have camped on the outskirts of town.
Yeah, you heard me, a whole clan of orcs touting the hardhead creed. It‘s enough to make you want another
drink.

Curst

Curst is a pissy little blighter of a place. Everyone in this town is a backstabbing wrench blaming everyone
else on the face of the planes for every reason they can think of for why they‘re staying in the accursed little
place. Most of the sods there are there because they‘ve got an axe to grind with someone else and they
refuse to leave until they exact their revenge. In the process of course, they trap themselves in this nasty little
town, not that any of them are willing to take the blame for anything. Given my druthers it‘s not a place I‘ll ever
be visiting again. Ever.

The land around the city is red clay, dry, and barren. Scrubby trees, and patchy grass surround the city and a
single road leads out from it towards the Spire. There is very little around the city otherwise, and the Guard
have made a point of clearing out any trees or brush within five hundred yards of the walls, leaving only the
red dirt itself. The walls themselves are tall, with spikes pointed outward and inward. They‘re covered with
razorvine inside and out too just in case they weren‘t intimidating enough as it was. Regular patrols of the City
Guard along the tops of the walls make sure that no one comes or goes without permission, at least not
easily. If they could figure out a good way to secure the air above the town they probably would.

The town is arranged in a series of rings, one inside the other and all centered on the Gate to Curst itself.
There are five rings, which divide the populace of the town in terms of relative misery and power. The center
ring nearest the gate is where the power of the city resides, and the outermost ring is where the worst of the
downtrodden berks scratch out a living.

160
 Teman Albrack

[Editor's note: I was quite surprised when Teman Albrack volunteered to add his accounts to this work. He‘s a
fairly well-known planewalker, if rather reclusive, said to have been traveling the Great Ring to bring back true
accounts to his fellows in the Dustmen about the suffering found throughout the planes. Since the Faction War
he‘s been actively working to bring the faction‘s philosophy to others beyond Sigil, which I suppose may be
part of the reason he approached me.]

Hopeless

The sheer endurance of a basher‘s spirit in the face of utter despair and pointlessness should not be
underestimated. Many souls plod along in life fully aware that they‘re surrounded by misery and have nothing
but misery in this life to look forward to. The gate-town Hopeless happens to be where a good number of such
berks gather. It‘s a colorless pit of apathy, little more than a grey tinged road of depression spiraling down to
the gate to the Gray Wastes at the town‘s center. All the buildings flank the single descending street, the
structures composed of weathered gray wood and pitted grayish stone. No colors mark the town save for the
screaming gate, and the dreary, melancholic air that hangs over the town only worsens as one descends
down the spiral road, deeper into the city.

Everywhere the situation of Hopeless is the same: depression, gloom, and apathy to mirror that of the Grey
Waste itself. Still, the spirits of the locales persist as they find ways to keep themselves occupied, whether it‘s
visiting any of the town‘s taverns, collecting books and trinkets from passing merchants, or passing along
rumors and stories. It‘s impressive, really, and reason why I think they could use the Dustmen‘s help. They‘ve
already accepted that this life doesn‘t have anything to offer them, they just need someone to show them how
to move on from here.

Torch

Torch isn‘t exactly what one would call friendly.

It‘s full of knights of the post and berks looking
to sell information to or about you. The place is
best described as a bit of gilt floating on top of
scum, and that applies to the people, the place,
the society, and even the food. So, I fully
recommend you spend some time there, at least
once. Afterwards you‘ll have an appreciation for
the Dustmen‘s view of this life.

Torch is perched on and around three active

volcanoes, called Karal, Maygel, and Dohin. The
volcanoes are surrounded by murky acid-filled
swamps, populated with giant frogs, rats, plague
insects, and anything else disgusting that you
can imagine. Once you get near the gate-town,
get used to looking up—it's what most of the
berks in this burg do. Between the continuous
haze of light that illuminates the area at all hours
and the occasional lava flow, the locales are
always up, always active. They‘re smart enough
to have no interest in seeing the town slip into
Gehenna, as for the most part that would make
them very small fish in a very large pond.

161
 Marila Tendershoot

Ribcage

Aye, I know a thing or two about the gate-towns to the Planes of Law. Great place to do business, find lore,
and acquire services without going to all the trouble of traveling to the planes themselves. Ribcage is a tough
place, though; I suppose it‘s gotta be to keep the fiends out. It‘s centered in the Vale of the Spine, named after
the spires of the mountains surrounding it. They arch up in such a way to nearly meet overhead, like, you
guessed it, a ribcage. The residents have built up walls between these ribs, taking advantage of the natural
architecture to build up their defenses against assault. Travelers, so long as they keep their noses clean and
don‘t protest any of the local laws, should do fine—but I wouldn‘t suggest setting up kip there unless you‘re in
the mood to toe the line.

Like most of the gate-towns to the Lower Planes, Ribcage doesn‘t want to merge with its plane. Baatazu
themselves are not welcome within the city limits, and the armies of the Nine Hells are encouraged to find
other more welcoming portals through which to march. The city‘s leaders have also made an effort to create
diplomatic ties with gate-towns of more good-aligned cities, garnering both their positive influence on the town
and their support in trade. That‘s what brings me there these days. While there‘s some fuss about the legality
of slave trade, it must be said that Ribcage is about the safest place to do honorable business on the lower
side of the Great Wheel.

Rigus

Like a giant iron boil rising up upon the flesh of the land, the gate-town of Rigus, the Eight- Tiered City, exists
as more of a permanent military encampment than a proper burg in many ways. From a distance, it looks like
a series of stacked metal boxes, or a giant monochrome ziggurat rising above the surrounding landscape in
all of its unwelcoming glory. Approaching travels will note that in following that unwelcoming aura, the lowest,
outermost defensive wall of Rigus is constructed of black avalan iron, splotched and mottled with rust,
verdigris, and a sticky, almost sap-like coating of contact poison to ward off rust-monsters and potential
invaders.

Unlike the vast majority of the other gate-towns, Rigus lacks a true civilian population outside of its own
regimented military orders, and it seems to exist largely as a marshalling point for the mercenaries who feed
upon the perpetual war of Acheron, and to a lesser extent, the Blood War. If you ask me, the lot of 'em are just
soldiers wanting for a cause, though whether it‘s the desire or the lack of success that keeps them in the
Outlands, I‘m not sure. The town imports a lot of supplies, but about all it offers are hired goons, if highly
disciplined goons.

Automata

Automata is loaded with two things: red tape and nifty mechanical oddities. The one, in my experience, tends
to outweigh the other. This is the gate-town to the plane of absolute order,
and it certainly looks the part. The entire city is laid out on a strict grid of
streets and blocks, and lodged firmly in the center of the outline of a small
wheel. Shops of similar trades are located all along the same block, while a
hundred other laws dictate codes of conduct and means of doing business.
Outside the city walls you‘ll find a few perfectly straight roads cutting through
fairly bland fields on their way to Rigus and Courage.

The city has swollen in recent years with the influx of Guvners and other
refugees from the Faction War in Sigil. With the new population growth, the
gate-town has experienced an economic boom and is becoming ever more
attractive to the interests of traders and merchant houses. Luckily, the influx
of people has brought with it a varied lot, so the town has yet to slip over the
edge into Mechanus. Chant is the local government has hired mercenaries
from Rigus to keep all immigrants firmly in line and put a halt to any fights
between visiting modrons and formians, though I haven‘t seen any need for
that.

162
 Places of Interest

The Gate-towns of course aren‘t the only bergs in the Outlands. The place is pretty big and there‘s lots of
other places to live in the plane. You‘ll find the realms of plenty of powers here, and sleepy little villages
tucked between rolling valleys, or high mountains. And plenty of not-too sleepy ones too come to think of it.

The Court of Light

The court is what the greybeards call a ‗deific realm; which is to say, it‘s kip to a goddess and y‘don‘t wanna
go traipsing about haphazardly. In this case it‘s a naga goddess by the name of Shekinester. The place is
populated by naga petitioners, where it is populated – most of them reincarnate. The place is a bit risky to go,
so I don‘t suggest it less y‘got a good reason or a fast sword or both.

The nagas there are of all kinds, that means good and bad. And the goddess is one of those oddball tripple
ones. Rule of three you see, so you may end up with the Weaver, the Empowerer or the Preserver. And well –
the place is just a mite unpredictable in those regards. The goddess is all about testing and guiding, and not
terribly concerned with anyone that ain‘t scaley snakeblood, so don‘t say I didn‘t warn ya. And if you do end up
staring her down in one of her tests... well. Best of luck t‘you, it‘s worth it – if you survive.

The Dwarven Mountains

The mountain is home to three gods of those short blokes with the beer and the beards. The three specific
ones involved are, by name: Dugmaren Brightmantle, Dumathoin, and Vergadain. Their three realms, the
three large sections of Dwarven Mountain are Soot Hall, Deepshaft Hall and Strongale. So you know, the
Halls aren‘t little piddly things like you‘ll find in human cities – they‘re cities in and of themselves.

Soot Hall‘s where you‘ll want to go if y‘looking to trade ore or weapons. That‘s where the dwarves indulge their
creativity and gnomish instincts. Not that you should ever say such things in their hearing. But they are
excellent inventors. The finest weapons, armor, tools and the like will come out of Soot Hall, and the Hall is
always looking for new materials to work with.

Strongale is where you go to squander all that hard earned gold and lose your newest shiny sword from Soot
Hall. If you‘re the gambling type, and I‘m not, you can get and lose just about anything in this Hall, and even if
you think it ain‘t something you can gamble away – someone in the Hall will have a way of taking it out of you.
Even if it takes the power of a god. Don‘t forget you are in a deific realm. If you‘re the drinking type, and I am,
you‘ll find some of the best brews in the 'Land here. I don‘t suggest you mix the two pastimes.

Deepshaft is the dwarven version of heaven, so to speak. Deep mines, stale air, gold and gems and riches to
be dug out of the earth to the patient bloke with a good hammer.
A word of advice, don‘t go down below into the mines of
Deepshaft Hall without makin‘ sure you have a guide you can
trust, or a way out – the mines extend for a long ways down and
for someone not used to them, one gets turned about right fast.
The dark holds that the mines hook up with the cavern structures
found throughout this section of the Outlands, and can run you
right into Illsensine‘s kip.

Really, the Mountain makes a great place to visit and do any

buying or selling of metal, special irons, gems, weapons and the
like, but don‘t expect everyone to be the most prim and polite of
folks. Some of the dwarves are a little cranky, and others are
staggering sots just out of the gambling halls. So don‘t take the
attitude to heart, they‘re just grumbly is all.

Ironridge
This is a town right on the edge of Dwarven Mountain, leading
up almost to the entrance to Strongale. It‘s mostly humans, and
some petitioners – a lot of gamblers and traders, not that there‘s
a big difference between the two I suppose.

163
The Caverns of Thought
This is the mind flayer‘s god‘s realm, and as far as I‘m concerned it can keep it. The Caverns are all
underground, tunnels carved by his servants or naturally occurring as can be found throughout much of the
Lands. The tunnels themselves are described as dank, and slick with fungus – sometimes warm pulsing flesh-
like fungus at that. They connect nominally with just about every other underground structure you can find in
the Outlands (or at least rumor has it that they do). Yet another reason not to go roaming without a guide or a
map.

Illsensine‘s got a big ego and won‘t tolerate much of anyone else in his brain space. That‘s why anyone
y‘meet here, odd are they‘ll be a zombie or thrall to the spongy brain with the psionic powers. If you‘re lucky
you‘ll meet a mind flayer servitor. If you‘re not... well, there‘s a spot at the Gatehouse for you, I suppose. If you
do happen to wander this way, you‘ll want to bring some sort of protection for your mind as the god‘s thoughts
wash throughout his realm and can be overwhelming at their weakest and downright deadly the closer you get
to him. And since the tunnels all seem to lead back to him... you‘ll need it.

Why would anyone go there? Well, chant is the big brain has the answer to near any question, and will give it
if a berk survives the trip and pays the price. One way or another, you‘re losing something. As a side note, it‘s
quite possible that Ilsensine shares his realm with Gzemnid, the beholder god. The two realms look very much
alike from all reports and seem to merge so they may actually be one and the same. So take your pick,
beholders or illithids, which would you rather get your head bitten off by?

The Mausoleum of Chronepsis

The dragon watcher of fate, time, and what have you. What‘s not to like? Oh yeah, the part where he can eat
you in one little nip. Not to say that he will, so long as you‘re respectful of his turf. This is the realm of
Chronepsis, the draconic pantheon‘s own pocket watch. Don‘t get me wrong, he‘s a big power and not one to
take lightly. But for the most part, unless you‘re a dragon or your fate is somehow tied with something he‘s
watching over, he‘s just not interested.

His place is a wonderful dignified lair, full of magnificent broken down ruins of grand halls and columns. And
filled with thousands and thousands of hourglasses. Big, small, and everything in between. Rumor holds that
the hourglasses are his petitioners, each one associated with a dragon, though some of them seem to still be
associated with a living one. In either case, he‘s not someone you so casually ask about such things. Just
leave his hourglasses alone and don‘t cause a fuss and you should be fine.

The Norns
This is an odd little realm, dedicated to the Norns of Norse myth. It can be found at the roots of the great tree
Yggdrasil as they rise out of the Outlands. It‘s a hard place to get to, and the only reason to go is to consult
the Norn at the Well of Urd. You might not like the answers though, sometimes it‘s really better to define your
fate instead of letting someone else define it for you.

The Palace of Judgment

One of the largest structures in the Lands, and it has to be to account for all the petitioners, judges,
bureaucrats, record keepers, scribes, clerks, guards, guardians, travelers, guides, librarians, judges – I said
judges already didn‘t I? – eh, you get the idea. Lots of people all working with the same goal in mind –
judgment of the dead. This isn‘t a town, this is a processing center. You‘ll find petitioners of all flavors here
from good to evil, lawful to chaotic and in between. You‘ll also find representatives of each of the associated
planes, usually there to lay claim to those petitioners judged by the Palace to belong to them rightfully. The
presence of Yen-Wang-Yeh, the realm‘s power, keeps them in check, preventing any overt fighting amongst
his staff and 'guests‘.

Of course, getting judged is a complicated thing. A petitioner arrives and is herded into the Greeting Halls,
there he is initially judged and given his assignment in the afterlife, then taken to another room to be given his
identity placard, then another room to be prepared for his journey, then to another room to head out the door –
and of course there may be waiting rooms along the way if there seems to be a hold up. It‘s not always a swift
judgment, let‘s put it that way, especially if Yen-Wang-Yeh is out to report to the Celestial Emperor on the
status of things.

164
As a note to all those planewalkers out there that have reason to not go through Sigil – the Palace is chock full
of portals. It‘s generally considered second only to Sigil for density of the portals. It has to be to make sure all
those bodies go to the right place. You may have to work your way through some red-tape along the way, but
odds are good you‘ll find the portal you need to get you where you‘re going. Thankfully, since the entire
Chinese pantheon keeps the place secure against disruption, the place is pretty stable and acts as a neutral
territory.

Of late of course, the Planar Trade Consortium has been making it‘s inroads, since the Tempest of Doors
skewed their gates. But even Estavan may be having some trouble with the bureaucratic system, so I‘m
tempted to wait and see on that one before I do any betting on their new routes.

Thoth’s Estate
Interested in books? How about the grandest library in the Lands? The Great Library, found at the center of
Thoth‘s city Thebestys, is said to hold every book ever written within its depths. Of course, you‘ll need to
spend quite some time looking for it, and hope that the librarians here will let you read it. Thankfully, the city
has plenty of lodgings for extended stays of would-be scholars. All in all, it‘s one of the biggest realms on the
plane, with several thousand residents. Mostly humans, but most are willing to pay a little homage to Thoth for
a peek at his collection.

If you do any wandering, you‘ll want to be careful of some of the crocodile headed folks coming out of the
River Ma‘at – they‘re Set minions. The river runs round the Lawful side of the seventh ring, past Torch and all
the way to Excelsior. The fertile land around it supports a host of villages, many of whom worship Thoth or
some of the other Egyptian powers. Speaking of, take some care with that river. It‘s not the grandest of things;
but I‘ve heard some rumors the waters can induce visions and madness in those who take a dip. Like all
chant, take it with a grain or three of salt, but I‘d still be careful.

Tir Na Og
Tir Na Og means “The Land of Youth”, and here‘s where you can find the realms of pretty much the entire
Celtic Pantheon. That would include Daghdha, Diancecht, Goibhniu, and Lugh, for those of you not up on your
temple schooling. It‘s a pretty peaceful place, very green. Most of the Tir is populated by petitioners, humans,
elves, and some odder forms of fey. You‘ll find a lot of folks willing to trade and some very excellent brews. I
don‘t suggest laying a finger on their cattle though; they get a mite tetchy about that.

Each of the powers has their own specific realm, such as Mag Mell, the Field of Happiness, which belongs to
Daghdha. The sea nearby, called Tir fo Thuinn, is the largest known body of water in the Lands and loosely
part of the Tir as well, ruled over by the sea god of the Celtic pantheon, Manannan mac Lir. It‘s populated by
sea folks, selkies, and the like, and is pretty peaceful as well.

Tvashtri’s Workshop
Near the Dwarven Mountains can be found Tvashtri‘s Workshop, a.k.a Tvashtri‘s Laboratory. Some folks have
mistaken the Workshop for having walked right into Soot Hall in the Dwarven Mountains, but one quick glance
around should make it clear which one you‘re in. In the workshop, you can find a mix of humans and gnomes.
Most all of the petitioners here are concerned with invention and science. Of course, there are plenty of
visitors as well, interested in the research of one thing or another. Of note, once the Guvner‘s got kicked
soundly out of Sigil along with the other factions, a few of them ended up here continuing their experiments
into the nature of the planes. They‘ve secured their own little corner of the Workshop for their purposes.

Planar Traits

Impeded magic: The Outlands are subject to the effects of the Spire as described above.

Creatures: Rilmani, Set minions, fey, dwarves, Indeps, Blood War troops, adventurers.

165
 Arcadia
Ppexxyrwn

My name is Ppexxyrwn, though I realize that‘s difficult for most non-bladelings to pronounce. You‘re welcome
to just call me Pex. Yes, I am a bladeling; I keep my blades filed down, except the ones on my head, as a
symbol of my commitment to pacifism and acceptance. And yes, you‘re quite right, bladelings are native to
Acheron and typically don‘t care for Arcadia. But I was driven out of my homeland at a very young age due to,
uh, philosophical differences, and have spent most of my time in Arcadia where both the realm of the god I
worship and the headquarters of the faction I belong to are found. So, while I may not technically be a native
of Arcadia, I am more than qualified to speak of the Land of Perfect Good. In fact, since many natives of
Arcadia have a rather, uh, provincial outlook, they wouldn‘t be the best ones to get an objective description
from anyways.

If I had to sum up the basis of Arcadia in a single word, that word would be ―perfection ‖. Not that the plane is
completely perfect, and still less that all its inhabitants are, but everything here is in just the right proportions
and just where it needs to be. The entire plane is devoted to a flawless, harmonious existence. Not only are
many features of the terrain perfectly arranged, with evenly spaced rows of crops, straight running rivers, and
controlled forests, but there are also idealized versions of many creatures and objects from the Prime and
other planes. That‘s the most common reason planewalkers come to Arcadia, I think; they‘re in search of the
perfect hound, or the perfect rose, or the perfect bottle of wine. And I suppose all those things probably do
exist in Arcadia somewhere, but they won‘t be easy to find. Especially since the plane isn‘t exactly a safe
place for outsiders. The natives… aren‘t always friendly.

When you consider that Arcadia sits between Mount Celestia, with its focus on personal enlightenment, and
Mechanus, the epitome of universal order, you get a good sense of what Arcadia is about. The truth is, more
than any of the Upper Planes, Arcadia exists to provide the most good for the most people. It is the realization
of so many utopian societies wherein citizens forsake certain freedoms and individual benefits for the
betterment of the community as a whole. One way or another everything here is devoted to some set idea of
the common good, and if something (or someone) doesn‘t conform to that end the inhabitants don‘t really
want it here. While the notion that everyone in Arcadia is an intolerant fanatic isn‘t true, unfortunately it‘s more
a slight exaggeration than an outright lie. Not everyone is that way, but tolerance and the benefit of the doubt
are in short supply among the plane‘s inhabitants.

Including, I regret to say, many members of my own faction, the Harmonium. They used to be a lot worse than
they are now—in fact, there was a time I got so disenchanted with the Harmonium‘s methods that I left them
and joined the Believers of the Source. But it‘s not just the Harmonium, by any means. The formians are
another issue. These hive creatures are native to Arcadia and used to live peacefully in their own
communities. In the last couple of years, though, they‘ve taken to spreading to other planes and colonizing
anywhere they can. There‘s also the buseni, black oily-looking shapeshifting creatures that patrol the tunnels
beneath the surface and guard many of the passages between layers. And, of course, the einheriar, a special
subclass of petitioners who act as a sort of planar militia, going above and beyond the normal petitioners‘
vigilance against outsiders who don‘t fit in.

So it‘s often said that every petitioner and planar in Arcadia is unremittingly hostile to anyone not devoted to
law and goodness. That isn‘t quite true. The presence of my god testifies to that; I worship Meriadar, a god of
patience and tolerance whose hidden realm lies in Arcadia‘s first layer. Certainly Meriadar‘s followers aren‘t
hostile toward anyone different—that would go against everything their god stands for! Arcadia may be a
plane of law first and good second, but it is still a plane of good, and not all its inhabitants are the types to
attack anyone who disagrees with them.

Well, I‘ve talked quite a bit about what lives on the plane, I suppose I should describe the layout of the plane
itself. Like I‘ve said, Arcadia is all about perfection; its layers are filled with regularly spaced hills and
mountains, rivers running in straight lines and turning at right angles, everything laid out in perfect order and
beauty. The seasons and weather on Arcadia are as regulated as everything else. The cycle of light and
darkness depends on the Orb of Day and Night, a great rotating sphere that sits on Arcadia‘s highest
mountain. Half the Orb radiates light, and as it rotates day and night sweep over the plane in even intervals.
The weather is also carefully controlled by four beings that call themselves the Storm Kings and who live in
floating citadels surrounding the Orb of Day and Night. Between them they make sure that every spot on the
plane receives just the perfect balance of rain and sun.

166
There are two layers to the plane of Arcadia, but few planewalkers have passed the first layer, Abellio. It
consists largely of fields, forests, rivers, and lakes spread out to meet the needs of the people, with a few
patterns of hills and mountains dotting the landscape. There are far too many different cultures for me to
describe them all, but I can tell you about some of the more famous sites. The perfectly conical Mount
Clangeddin rises 30,000 feet and is home to the dwarven god of battle, Clangeddin Silverbeard. His
petitioners train constantly for the day they will be called upon to sacrifice themselves in battles across the
multiverse and are renowned for their willingness to face oblivion in service to their deity. It‘s not always the
safest place to visit, as even when not conducting drills the dwarves are still as rowdy as any basher of
Ysgard, but there are a great many services offered in the deep cities. Otherwise, the realm of Marduk, Binder
of Dragons, is a testament to the grace of order. In his marble city virtue is nurtured by beauty and wickedness
is unyieldingly cut down by the executioner‘s blade. As for the numerous formian cities, Mandible is both the
greatest and most welcoming. On the surface, human-style buildings make up the city Mercantus where
merchants and other visitors gather. The true sights are found in the immense caverns and twisting tunnels of
Mandible below, home to many of the remaining peaceful formians.

The second layer, Buxenus, is most often reached by passing through the 50-foot high rune-covered plinths
that mark the passageways between the layers. Though the Harmonium has begun escorting some visitors to
Buxenus, the petitioners of Arcadia are the only ones allowed through without intense scrutiny. The two layers
are also separated by a great mountain range that can be crossed, though the journey is quite dangerous. All
in all, with security so tight there‘s not much known about Buxenus. Having left the Harmonium once, I‘m
rarely welcome there now. The terrain is similar to Abellio save it‘s dominated by hills. Everything has its
match, though; for each hill there is a plain, for each river there is a dry patch of land, and so forth. Granted,
they‘re usually not of equal size. It‘s not the Outlands after all.

Chant is this fact symbolizes a deeper truth of Arcadia‘s second layer; punishments disproportionate to the
crime set a clear example for the conduct of others, a little evil‘s tolerable so long as it brings about a lot of
good. In other words, the ends justify the means. I‘d like to think my faction has learned the error of its ways,
but I‘m not so naive as to think all my peers believe as I do. At least the Harmonium has finally owned up to
why it was keeping people out of Buxenus for so long—they had been practically using the entire layer as a
big center of reeducation, trying to force captives into their point of view. Under Factol Faith the faction has
phased out the training camps, and I think that‘s one of the biggest signs that she really believes in reform. I
saw the training camps myself before the Faction War, and they were one of the biggest reasons I left the
Harmonium.

By now you‘ve probably got a grasp for some of the paradoxes that grip Arcadia. Overall its inhabitants are
insular folk, but more and more they‘re looking to expand across the planes. Everyone has to follow strict
standards of moral and ethical conduct, but some will turn a blind eye to convenient injustices. Supposedly
Arcadia once had a third layer called Nemausus or Menausus, depending on which account you believe, that
slid to Mechanus due to the loss of good on the plane, be it thanks to the formians‘ ruthless campaign of
conquest, or even, according to other stories, because of the deeds of the Harmonium. I don‘t know if any of
that‘s true, but honestly it wouldn‘t surprise me. Arcadia is a beautiful plane, with much to recommend it, but I
fear the way things are going here. Even if the Harmonium‘s attitude is getting better, the petitioners and the
formians seem to be getting worse, increasingly putting order farther
and farther above good, such that in time perhaps there won‘t be any
room left for good at all. I sometimes wonder if part of the reason
Meriadar chose Arcadia for his realm is because no other plane more
sorely needed his message of tolerance and acceptance.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Arcadia is mildly lawful. Those of opposing

alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Creatures: Deva, hollyphant, t’uen-rin, Harmonium.

167
 Mount Celestia
Alphashiel

So, traveler, you wish to partake of my wisdom regarding the slopes of the holy mount? Certainly, I know
much of the Seven Heavens, though there is much that is still dark from even my eyes. Those who come here
have many reasons for making the journey, though there is only one true and worthy purpose. Some seek
trade, others exploration and adventure, but true pilgrims make the sacred journey up the mountain in the
pursuit of enlightenment. Mount Celestia is the bastion of virtue for the Great Ring, the guardian of its spiritual
purity, and all those who desire to understand the holy light of ordered purity need only make the pilgrimage
up its slopes. Most assume that only those who already believe and exemplify this ideal would undertake such
a journey, but they are mistaken. Any and all who desire to shed the sins of their existence are given the
chance. We do not only use the sword to vanquish evil, though the wise do not test the strength of the
archons. Though my own past has been washed away with my rebirth, surely my mortal life was marked by
virtue. Soon I shall have my final reward as I become one with the plane of ultimate justice and mercy.

Mount Celestia rises up from an endless ocean, underneath which many great beings of the sea dwell. There
are seven layers to the plane, each one shielded by a shroud of clouds and mists from the eyes of those
below and visible only to those walking the Paths. Still, the brilliance of the Illuminated Heaven bathes us all
from the summit. Almost all the petitioners of the plane begin as lantern archons and ascend (both figuratively
and literally) through the ranks of hound, warden, sword, and tome archons. The ranks of the holy host
comprise most of Mount Celestia‘s inhabitants, and the archons are maintain with a careful vigilance even as
we continue our own quests for perfection. Of course, some petitioners retain other forms designated by their
powers, most notably those serving the halfling and dwarf pantheons. Other beings make their homes here as
well, attracted by the radiance of disciplined peace, such as the lammasu, shedu, and noctrals. Aasimon and
aasimar are also common, and make up much of the armies of our celestial strongholds.

There are few portals that lead above the first layer of Mount Celestia, and certainly none past the midpoint.
No, the way to ascend the mountain is to climb, and to do that one must find a Path. The Paths are not simple
roads, but take the supplicant on a spiritual journey as well. The Path teaches the pilgrim a truth of law and
goodness, and once chosen, a Path must be followed until reaching the next layer. Mortals must make the
journey on foot; only the archons fare well in the winds that blanket the mount, and even we must follow the
Path‘s physical route. Once a new layer is attained, the pilgrim may choose to continue along the original Path
or choose a new one. Some continue on the same Path, perfecting their understanding of a single aspect of
holiness. Others hope to learn something of perfect unity by contemplating the different roads to virtue. The
pilgrimage itself is of no fixed length of time; it hinges on the pilgrim‘s soul. Many give up before the end,
despairing of ever reaching the summit after years of travel. But there are those who find their way through
the layers with only months of travel. What awaits the supplicant at the peak? Surely we petitioners achieve
our union with the very plane itself. But even mortals do not return after they attain enlightenment. Do they sit
in quiet contemplation? Do they become some other entity of goodness and order? Do they too become one
with the mount? One day I shall have an answer, but I shall not return to tell you the dark of it.

The first layer is Lunia, the Silver Heaven, land of summer‘s night. Stars and the ray of the moon shine upon
the waters and shore of the sea. Almost all portals to Mount Celestia open up over the water. Only the evil
need fear, however, for the waves are the holiest of waters. Regardless, the zoveri who live in the sea help all
to shore. Along the shores are the citadels and palaces of minor powers and the homes and towns of planars.
The towns act as trading centers, and the largest and most-frequented is Heart‘s Faith, close to the gate from
the Outlands. It has docks for those who travel here along Oceanus from the neighboring planes. Pilgrims
make great use of its goods, stocking up on food and sundries before taking up their quests.

Sometimes adventurers come to the lowest layers of Mount Celestia. They seek out sites such as the Tower
of Fire. This mysterious edifice soars up from a marble outcropping, out amongst the waves, a great distance
from shore. The tower is carved from the marble itself, and a blue flame blazes upon its top. Many attempt to
reach the tower by flying or teleporting. They are thwarted, but the waves carry them to the tower‘s door, and
the heat of the tower dries the sodden traveler. The interior is somehow made of the same blue fire that can
be seen on the tower‘s roof, but it does not burn flesh. The tower‘s layout shifts every sevenday, which helps
to guard its secrets. Some legends hold that artifacts are held within, while others state that the purpose of the
tower is esoteric, burning away impurities from those who traverse its maze. Sadly, no one trustworthy has
ever claimed to reach the rooftop.

168
You‘ll recall that I mentioned even evil outsiders are washed up on Lunia‘s shore. Remember, even this holiest
of places does not absolutely bar the entrance of the corrupt. Indeed, there are many who seek to atone for
their past and to learn the ways of righteousness. If they do evil while here, they will be vanquished, but they
are given the opportunity for repentance. Of course, we remain on our guard, and the scarred flesh of evil
undead and outsiders who have been plunged into the silvery waters mark them well. Most linger on Lunia,
though some rare few become enlightened enough to ascend to the next layer.

Above Lunia is Mercuria, the Golden Heaven, named for the soft glow of the air that surrounds it. It is
eternally young, like a prime world in its beginnings, with newly formed mountains and deep valleys. The
golden air here is thin, but rich with possibilities and potential and the first flowering of spring. Here are the
mustering grounds of the celestial armies, as well as their armories. The great citadel of Bahamut, the
platinum dragon, can also sometimes be found there. On occasion his palace moves between the first three
(some say four) layers, and those with the courage may entreat of the valiant wyrm to make use of this
shortcut. But never forget that Bahamut, like all dragons, is a creature of appetite who does not brook those
who do not show proper respect and homage.

Then is the layer known as Venya, the Pearly Heaven, suffused by a soft white light. This is chiefly the home
of the halfling powers, who name it Green Fields. It is a land of abundance, with fertile terraced fields and
meadows, interspersed with moors. The halfling petitioners are much like the halflings of the prime, including
their nomadic nature. The communities here can be broken down at a moment‘s notice and moved to a new
location. This is done both to spare the land from over-cultivation and is also part of their own pilgrimage.
Rarely does a halfling make the journey alone; their family and clan take part as well, traveling secret Paths of
Venya known only to their own kind, until as one, they are ready to become one with their beloved home.

The fourth layer I know quite well. It is Solania, the Electrum Heaven. Its sweeping skies are silver, suffused
with a warm, golden glow. The icy mountains are titanic, looking down upon the deep canyons and the swift
rivers. The mountain sides are populated by fog-shrouded monasteries, where the faithful contemplate the
majesty of lawful goodness. One of the oldest is the First Monastery, and as it name implies, it may indeed be
the oldest. It has been maintained for the last millennia by the valiant Order of the Planes-Militant, a noble
sect dedicated to both protecting the Holy Mount and spreading its purity. They tirelessly work to convert the
wayward, even successfully shifting portions of the neighboring planes to Mount Celestia, bolstering the
holiest of planes. There are those who protest that the Order is made up of the tyrannical or misguided, but
such screed only spills from the mouths of those who have cause to fear the spread of virtue and justice.
Deep underground can be found Erackinor, where the Soul Forge of Moradin creates the spirits of the
dwarves. The petitioner-dwarves build many settlements such as Istor‘s Forge, Stonefall, and the Rift, which
are so grand as to make prime dwarven holds seem paltry.

I know of the upper layers only by rumor, for I have tarried on Solania for centuries. I have not found my way
forward, to my shame, and remain in the form of hound archon. As one climbs higher, the storms grow fiercer,
and pilgrims must beware the danger of rockslides. The next layer is known as Mertion, the Platinum
Heaven, with brilliant white skies that no undead can look upon without bearing the brunt of their positive
energies. ‗Tis the fabled resting place of the paladins. The landscape here takes the form of black domes,
upon which mighty fortresses rise up. The first city encountered is
Empyrea, the City of Tempered Souls, which rests beside a
mountain lake. Its healers care for injured pilgrims and its traders
sell mountaineering gear and hire out guides.

Higher up the layer is Rempha, the City of the Sands of Time. The
city has some connection to the Temporal Energy Plane, which
upends time‘s normal flow. I have heard that the solar who rules it
is advised by a modron known as Secundus that has been exiled
from Mechanus, which cannot bode well. There are rumors of a
great machine being built, as large as a town or greater. Its ultimate
purpose is unknown, but tales have spread of such uses as the
ability to monitor the shrouded origins of the multiverse (or even to
travel there!), a great weapon to be used to destroy Celestia if ever
it were in danger of being overrun by fiends, or the ability to forcibly
open portals across the Great Ring. All such ideas seem fanciful to
me, but such a titanic machine must have some extraordinary
purpose.

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The penultimate layer is Jovar, the Glittering Heaven, with skies that glow with the lambent sparkle of gems,
pulsing like the heartbeat of Celestia itself. Here the traveler comes to the peak of the mountain, topped by a
colossal ziggurat. This is the dwelling place of the Final Mystery, which is both the ruler of the Heavens and
the sum of its knowledge. Only by climbing the ziggurat and reaching Chronias, the Illuminated Heaven, will
the seeker understand. Then shall all that was impure be taken away. Some day, traveler, some day, I shall
attain that dizzying height.

Variant Rule: Mount Celestia Travel Restrictions

Planeshift, teleport and gate spells targeting locations on this layer of the plane are restricted. A Spellcraft
check, DC 35 + spell level, is required in order to avoid the spell being redirected to either the base of the
Mountian (the first layer), or the last location the caster was on his choosen path (see below). The Mount is
rife with portals though, and given enough time and jink, a party should be able to research a portal to
wherever they want to go on Mount Celestia. That's the easy way, and for the sake of a DM it will speed up
play if the players are not interested in following the established paths.

Travel on this plane is directly tied to personal growth and development of the traveler as they learn the
lessons of the Mount – so in order to travel upwards, to the next layer, one must choose the lessons to learn,
and of course, going down is nowhere near as hard as going up. The paths are not so much physical roads to
travel (though some may reflect that outwardly), as they are a sequence of actions that will allow a follower to
find the way to the next layer, or simply transfer him to it directly.

For those entering Mount Celestia at some point and wanting to travel upwards to other layers, they must
choose one of the following paths, which are both spiritual and physical. Keep in mind that only one person
must actively pursue a path; fellow travelers reap the benefits of travel by virtue of accompanying the path
pursuer. Some paths are an adventure in and of themselves, while others are simply a few random
encounters to help the passage of time. A DM might want to have more involved paths developed ahead of
time.

Prerequisites for all Paths

The person must be sincere in choosing a particular path, must swear an oath to a Power of Mount Celestia
when the path is chosen, and must make a sacrifice valued at 100 gp/character level, typically by giving the
item(s) to a native. As long as the person is actively pursuing a path, lantern archons will not attack him. The
same immunity is not guaranteed any traveling companions.

Eightfold Path: A person choosing this path must demonstrate patience, pacifism, courage, joy, discipline,
generosity, kindness, and teaching others. The character will undertake one encounter focusing on each
virtue; remember that the character in question is the only one whose actions are considered. The encounters
can take place in any order. After successfully completing the first encounter on this path, the traveler gains a
+2 sacred bonus to Charisma as long as he remains on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued.

Path of Five Virtues: A person choosing this path must demonstrate honesty, charity, hope, moderation, and
tolerance. The character will undertake one encounter focusing on each, played in any order. After
successfully completing the first encounter on this path, the traveler gains a +2 sacred bonus to Strength as
long as he remains on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued.
Restriction: You cannot progress beyond the sixth layer by following this path. Path of Valor: A person
choosing this path must perform a good deed each day. They will undertake one encounter per game day.
After successfully completing the first good deed, the traveler gains a +2 sacred bonus to Dexterity for as long
as he remains on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued. Restriction: You cannot progress beyond the fifth
layer by following this path.

Path of Renunciation: A person choosing this path must grant constant charity to anyone who requests it,
may only carry a single change of clothing and one weapon, must beg for food and lodging, and must
physically suffer in some way (flagellation, fasting, vow of silence, vow of chastity, etc). After the first day of
successfully pursuing this path, the traveler gains a +2 sacred bonus to Constitution for as long as he remains
on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued.
Recommendation: This path should last a minimum of two days, and the DM should follow the rules for
starvation and dehydration if fasting is chosen as the form of suffering.

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Path of Mystic Union: A person choosing this path must meditate, perform cleansing rituals, fast, and seek
visions. After the first day of successfully pursuing this path, the traveler gains a +2 sacred bonus to Wisdom
for as long as he remains on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued.
Recommendation: This path should last a minimum of three days, and the DM should follow the rules for
starvation and dehydration. This is a good path for extensive roleplaying sessions, where the character
pursuing the path simply meditates all day and the other characters plan, argue, discuss, etc., and then when
everyone wakes up the next morning, they find themselves further along the path to the next layer.

Path of Gnosis: A person choosing this path must seek knowledge, studying and researching ancient lore.
After the first day of successfully pursuing this path, the traveler gains a +2 sacred bonus to Intelligence for as
long as he remains on Mount Celestia and this path is pursued.
Restriction: You cannot progress beyond the fourth layer by following this path.
Recommendation: This path should last a minimum of one week and should be initiated within a place of
learning on Mount Celestia. This path is best to eat up downtime, with one character researching the portal to
the next layer, and the others training, making magic items, researching spells, etc.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Mount Celestia is mildly lawful and mildly good. Those of opposing alignment are at a
-2 to Cha checks. These affects stack for multiple alignments.

Impeded magic: Planeshift, gate and other transportational magic or psionics targeting any location on the
layer of Chronias fail to function.

Creatures: Archon, deva.

171
 Bytopia

Bally Whitethroat

The Twin Paradises have been my home always. I have roamed many of its gullies and peaks, accompanying
my master, Falliwinkle Greenstaff. A few times, we traveled to other planes, but I have never seen another
plane like mine. My master used to say that the two layers of Bytopia, Dothion and Shurrock, are like the
bread of a sandwich; when you look up into the sky, you can see the other layer facing you. All I know is that it
makes me feel good and right. During the day it‘s like having a whole world as your neighbor, offering change
and a fresh start. Familiar, yet new. Close, but unobtrusive. And when night comes, the sky is dotted by the
flickering stars from the campfires and street lights of the layer above. Folk travel here for many reasons, but I
think what they talk about most is the sense of opportunity and prosperity, which gives rise to its other title: the
Bright Frontier. A basher can lose themselves in the land, forget their troubles, and make a new life for
themselves with their own hands. Find friends, build a family, and be a part of something. Is there any better
life?

All told, Bytopia is a place of balance, physically and spiritually. Those who live here show this balance in their
lives of independence and civil duty, production and conservation. While those in Mount Celestia espouse
individual enlightenment and perfection, the focus here is more practical. The gnomes and other humanoids of
Bytopia believe in hard work and loving what you do. The thought goes that people tend to be happiest when
they find something that‘s both fun for them and appreciated by others, something that actually contributes to
making the world better. But even more than that, those who call the Bright Frontier home believe in struggle.
Not the bloody conflicts that some planes see all too much of, but the kind that develops cutters to their full
potential. They don‘t labor because they serve some master, or even for its own sake. Through work, practice,
exploration, and innovation, they themselves are made better. Without opposition, there is only stagnation.
There is no growth. So individuals and families run their businesses with pride, owing allegiance to no one
save whatever guild they might belong to. Many of their creations or goods are developed for the benefit of
the community as a whole. Sometimes this is a better tool, or an elaborate pulley system, or just something to
bring a smile to your face. And while a degree of privacy is expected, no one hesitates to help a neighbor in
genuine need. There are plenty of reasons for folk to form close communities, for the wilderness can be just
as harsh as in the Beastlands, and savage creatures stalk it. Bytopia is an endless frontier, a forever
unobtainable horizon.

172
Unlike the Beastlands, though, the plane doesn‘t resist progress. And the workshops, farms, and even the
mines work with the landscape, rather than against it. The gnomes may put a mill beside a river, but they
won‘t dam or divert that river. Wood workers and carpenters strictly monitor the felling of trees. This leads to a
harmonious relationship between nature and society, producing some of the most industrial cities in all the
Great Ring. Sometimes berks from other planes come and try to exploit our bounty, but the druids and their
allies that roam the land keep an eternal vigil. Naturally, the residents here don‘t look well on lazy, shiftless
types. They also don‘t believe in credit; it‘s cash on the barrelhead, or trade in service. While the trade
bazaars use the coin familiar to outsiders for the most part, services, like inns or healers, actually prefer that
visitors work for a meal or a bed. Chop some wood, clean out some stables, and then, when your brow is
good and sweaty, you‘ll be treated like you deserve.

My master and I come from Dothion. Our home is of rolling hills and forests, spread with quiet farms and
workshops while bustling towns and trading outposts sell the goods created throughout Bytopia. Masterwork
objects of practically every sort can be purchased here, from weapons to fine rugs, and I understand that
many merchants come straight to these bazaars when they can, rather than settling for inferior merchandise
in Tradegate or Sigil. Gnome artificers sell wonderful creations such as clockwork animals, mechanical
pranks, and alchemical goods. Many of these devices are unique, made more for the inspired love of
invention than concerns of usefulness. The farmers of the Golden Hills and elsewhere bring their sought-after
produce, such as cheeses, ales, fruits and vegetables, to market. My master‘s gods live there, in the Golden
Hills, with gnome planars and petitioners. Such communities are like islands in the vast open wilderness.
Though the layer is thought of as peaceful, settlers make sure not to migrate too far from established
territories. There are towns and outposts out on the frontier which have been abandoned, some under
mysterious circumstances.

Most outsiders see Bytopia as a sleepy, peaceful place,

good for shopping and relaxing. But Shurrock‘s twisted
mountains and dark forests, so often besieged by winds and
rain, make an environment to challenge any rugged
explorer. The layer is mostly the home of wild animals, but
there are also deep mines where the gnomes dig for the
gems and ore precious to them. They set up rough
settlements surrounding the areas of industry, like the
underground burg of Quarry. Even with the dangers, I prefer
Shurrock to places like Yeoman, the largest town on
Dothion. The threats there are trickier and less obvious, with
the likes of the Planar Trade Consortium wheeling and
dealing and the Order of Planes-Militant preaching against
chaos and evil.

Getting between the two layers is tricky. There aren‘t many

portals, and the one‘s that exist have people in charge of them, either merchants or guardians. The first
protect their money, the second protect the towns from creatures that might wander through them. Most folks
physically travel between the two layers. There are several mountains that connect the two layers, reaching
from the surface of Dothion all the way to the surface of Shurrock, with the biggest and most used being
Centerspire. Climb up it, and in the middle, get ready to start climbing down. Once you pass the area between
the two layers, gravity reverses towards the other layer. Yes, that‘s right; it‘s more than a little confusing.
Flyers usually adjust quickly. Climbers better figure out which direction they‘re going real fast, unless they
want to fall a good ways.

There are many creatures who call the Paradises home. The gnomes, both planars and petitioners, make up
a fair chunk of the humanoid people of the plane. They‘re hardy, industrious folk who love to work. There are
also many animals, many of them touched by good (and occasionally law), and a lot of them enormous, dire
types. The gnomes especially befriend those of us who burrow, and the ones that roam the tors of the Golden
Hills are tinted with gold themselves, as you can see in my own coat. The gnomes and we consider each
other family. Now, on Shurrock, the beasts tend towards being dangerous and wild, sometimes attacking
travelers and even settlements. The gnomes say that Urdlen, the Crawler Below (may I never see its pale
snout) burrows deep under that layer from its realm in the Abyss, and other evil outsiders make their way up
to our peaceful lands from those tunnels. Many of them are fiendish burrowing animals, but sometimes worse
creatures break through.

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Of course, we see any number of Upper Planar creatures, like hollyphants and a celestial or two. Some
peculiar creatures call Bytopia home, like the tiny empaths called ethyks, many of which have been tamed for
their ability to redirect the anger of others and can now be found throughout the planes. The skies are the
hunting grounds for packs of the vicious, wormlike ni‘iath. The horrid things evolved in the space between the
layers; they are immune to the force of gravity, with four eyes spaced around their heads, and they use their
tails to fling hapless, disoriented victims into the surrounding mountains. But the skies above Shurrock, at
least, are protected by air sentinels. And the plant world is represented by the treants that protect the wild
spaces. They are as aloof as their prime cousins, only making themselves known when the need arises.

But let none say there is no excitement here. Adventurers can prove their worth by protecting caravans,
rooting out nests of evil beasts, and undertaking other quests (remember, favors and service are as good if
not better than jink to Bytopians). Twisted things burrow from beneath; plunderers seek its treasures and
invaders hunt its beasts; mysteries hide within the thick forests; miners uncover things buried for millennia.
There is an organization, made up mostly of gnomes from Dothion, known as the Society of Shurrockian
Cartographers, dedicated to exploring the uncharted depths and heights of the layer. They are commendable
for their spirit, but they often find themselves in difficult situations. They have recently fallen afoul of one of the
tso raiding parties that have begun to plague Bytopia. The tso have gotten a taste for hard-working gnome
slaves and seem to have found portals to help them in their accursed trade.

I have also heard of dark rumors of a blight growing in the heart of gnome society, made up of those who have
been seduced by the Crawler Below. At first, the cult known as the Small Crawlers were found only in the
wilderness, but now some isolated towns have reported that cultists have been found amongst the
inhabitants. They claim to have no leaders and forsake their names and identities amongst their fellows while
performing strange rites underground, wearing masks and bathing in the blood of animals. What is to be done
about these misguided souls? Their god is one of evil and chaos, but how do the individualist gnomes remain
true totheir own beliefs by forbidding the beliefs of others? They have no answers yet, not as a group. Some
call for the conversion of their wayward brethren, while others demand imprisonment and even death.
Meanwhile, fear takes hold, as the gnomes become wary of their own neighbors. Those who spend too much
time alone or shirk good, honest
labor are suspect. There are
times ahead which will surely
test the spirit of the Bytopians.
But this is the way it has always
been; this is the way it should
be.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant:
Bytopia is mildly good.
Those of opposing
alignment are at a -2 to Cha
checks.

Creatures:Baku,
hollyphant, treant, gnomes.

174
 Elysium
Alexi Mirrwood

The Blessed Fields. The Plane of Peaceful Rest. Elysium. It‘s

very name is synonymous with peace and tranquility. Serene
valleys, vast mountains, sparkling rivers, it very much fits most
cutters vision of heaven. At the center of the Upper Planes, it
represents the purest incarnation of good, and is the home of
countless planars and petitioners that have earned their rest in
the service of that ideal. But it‘s oh so much more than a place
to make one‘s case and spend the years in quiet prosperity (not
that that‘s such a bad thing, mind you). I should know; I‘ve been
courting her for over twenty years now. Park your ears cutter,
'cause Elysium is more than just the sum of its residents or its
position in the Outer Planes. I‘m not here to peel ya for jink
either, so don‘t give me that look. Just sit down in that chair over
there and listen to an old greybeard‘s tale.

Situated between the untamed wilderness of the Beastlands and

the cultivated fields of Bytopia, Elysium is a balance of lifestyles
and pleasures, where a basher can live the life they most desire
with hardly a care or concern. Here people only work if they
want to, as the plane is bountiful enough to provide for
everyone‘s needs. There‘s a good mix of different types of
communities as well, from nomadic tribes to vast cities, and just
about whatever life a body chooses is fine by everyone else.
What misfortune one might experience here is only an opportunity for another to do good, and it should come
as no surprise that the entire plane is a testament to what can be achieved when folk put the welfare of others
above their own interests. The plane isn‘t content to let berks to come to that conclusion on their own,
however, and that‘s where its true nature becomes clear. But we‘ll come to that in due time.

Elysium is divided into four layers, and each surrounded by the River Oceanus. Amoria, the first layer, is both
the most hospitable and populous. It is a land of rolling hills, green meadows, great forests, and shining
beaches. The weather is always tame, neither too hot nor too cold even during the height of the seasons.
Most of the burgs are situated along the coasts of Oceanus and glow like jewels during the night. The
Transcendent Order has the largest presence here, save for perhaps the guardinals, though the Ciphers don‘t
have any organized forces per se.

Hm? Oh, yes, my apologies, the guardinals are the exemplar of Elysium, celestials that combine animal and
humanoid features representing true good. They‘re generally a peaceful and wise lot, though they have no
tolerance for evil and make fierce warriors. Good-aligned folk come to them for advice and help, even other
celestials, but don‘t be fooled by their reluctance to take part in every quest brought their way; the guardinals
are easily the most proactive of the celestial races and have their hands in events across the multiverse.

Eronia is the second layer of Elysium, and is very much a rugged version of Amoria. Here the mountains are
sharp, the hills steep, and the wind strong. The petitioners here believe the afterlife should still provide its
challenges, and most of the planars that come here do so with the intent of testing their endurance and their
heart. Whether its great canyons, white rapids, or snow white peaks reaching to the clouds, Eronia is a land of
adventure. On the other hand, it has its fair share of tests and hurdles, where failure means a sod‘s going to
be joining the petitioners for good.

Belierin is the most mysterious and least populated of Elysium‘s layers. It‘s a mist shrouded land with thick
swamps and overgrown marshes, a far cry different from it‘s neighbors. Few save the guardinals are found
here, and the other creatures that make their home here are often monsters that have no problem dragging a
berk headfirst into the water, good intentions or not. Chant goes that the layer serves as a vault or prison for
things the forces of good would have locked up or otherwise could not destroy. This might explain why the
guardinals are so suspicious of people wandering around the plane and why use of divination or transplanar
magic draws the attention of the natives.

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Belierin Travel Restrictions: Planeshift, teleport and gate spells targeting locations on this layer of the
plane are restricted. A Spellcraft check, DC 35 + spell level, is required in order to avoid the spell being
redirected to the nearest guardianal outpost on Belierin.

Thalasia is the lowest layer and the origin of the River Oceanus itself. This layer is the home of the exalted
and other archetypes of good that have been hidden away until some future time. It consists of a series of
small, mostly tropical islands, but the majority of the layer‘s population resides in its underwater depths where
entire kingdoms coexist out of the sight and mind of the rest of the multiverse. The islands themselves mostly
house small communities of land dwellers living in peace with those below, though some serve as havens for
the warriors of good. These mystical realms are often spoken of in legend on prime worlds and the petitioners
here are the greatest heroes ever known. Reaching any such isle is a quest in and of itself, but the things to
be seen there will make one wonder what sway Elysium truly has over the rest of the multiverse. Aye, I do
mean the plane itself, for I‘ve seen whole civilizations whisked away at their peak from the Prime to Thalasia,
locked away from the multiverse and never knowing anything had changed. Maybe they‘re being safeguathe
plane.rded from some great cataclysm, but I have little doubt that their existence will somehow serve the
greater good, and thus Elysium itself.

See, the whole sodding plane is aware. Not truly alive in any traditional sense, but it thinks and acts to further
its own ends as if it were one big power. Travel is the best example; when I said before that one‘s bad luck is
a chance for another to do good, I wasn‘t being cute. When walking from place to place the plane puts such
situations along the way, forcing bashers to choose between helping someone in a rough spot or going about
their business. Those that show their good intentions will make it to their destination faster, while those that
ignore the suffering of others could find their journey taking hours or days longer than it should. The plane
doesn‘t stop its manipulations there, either. Most everything in Elysium exudes a feeling of safety and
perfection. The feeling is so strong that an unlucky soul might even find themselves unwilling to leave after
spending only a few days there, even if they have pressing concerns elsewhere in the Great Ring. The
pleasure and joy one experiences steadily increases, warping their mind until they can imagine nothing else
but the happiness of living here and pitching in to make it a better place. As time passes, even loved ones
forget about their previous lives…

Ahem, don‘t mind me. Just because something is good doesn‘t mean it has to be kind, cutter. I remember the
day twenty years ago when my own sweet Aleasia gave in to Elysium‘s sweet song. She rose in the middle of
the night and walked off into the woods with nary a word nor kiss goodbye, and by the time I had risen she
had vanished. I‘ve spent the years since searching every layer and realm for sign of my love, giving up when I
felt myself surrendering to Elysium‘s charms, and then only long enough to bring my wits back to me. The
plane itself has lead me on this merry chase, teasing me with clues of her whereabouts to keep my hope
alive, pushing me to continue my work so that I might tell others of what I find. Some of you chaotic bashers
might balk at one‘s freedom being so blatantly taken from them, while lawful folk may consider the whole thing
unjust, but here the only thing that matters is how it serves the greater good. Even if I should die without ever
seeing Aleasia‘s face again, I‘ll know what my life has been for.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Elysium is strongly good. Those not of this alignment are at a -2 to Cha, Int, Wis
checks.

Impeded Magic: Planeshift, teleport and gate spells targeting locations on this layer of the plane are
restricted. A Spellcraft check, DC 35 + spell level, is required in order to avoid the spell being redirected to the
nearest guardianal outpost on Belierin.

Movement: . Elysium is entrapping. Visitors to this plane must make a Will save for every week spent on the
plane, at a DC 10 + 1 per consecutive week on the plane. Failure on this save results in becoming trapped on
the plane, unable or unwilling to leave.

Creatures: Baku, foo creatures, moon dogs, per, phoenix, solars, guardinals.

176
 The Beastlands
Bold

OK, first of all I gotta say, ‗cos I understand that this is going to be in print, so no-one will see me, that I‘m a
fox. Reddish fur, four legs, in any other place would make noises a bit like a dog. But I‘m from the Beastlands,
and that means I can talk, because all animals from the Beastlands can talk. Even dogs. Though I gotta say,
why you‘d want to listen to a dog I can‘t imagine. Between you and me, they‘re not all that smart. Got you two-
legged folk fooled, but they‘re really pretty dumb. Keep on talking about sticks for some reason.

So, you want to know about the Beastlands. The ultimate wildlife experience, with the emphasis on wildlife.
I‘m gonna make one thing clear, just so no one sends any curses my way later. The Beastlands don‘t really
care for visitors. Nothing personal, but here the best life is the one uninterrupted. Those that live here mostly
want to be left to their own devices, and they see nothing wrong with keeping life simple. Natural. Some even
regard anything too fancy or artificial as corruptive, good intentions or not, since it tricks people into thinking
they need more than they do and losing sight of what really matters. I‘m not judging anyone, but outsiders
better mind the plane‘s rules, as it‘ll fight you every step of the way if you try to introduce anything that don‘t fit
in. Being a fox and all, I‘m pretty content with things as they are.

The Beastlands are unusual, even for the planes. First off, the petitioners are like me. Well, not all foxes. But
animals of some sort. The souls of animals are drawn here when they die to serve their lord and learn the way
of things before being reincarnated. What to eat, how to raise young, all that. Not sure how it works, but
there‘s also spirits for the trees, rivers, mountains, and maybe everything else. They don‘t share the same
proclivity for talking, but I know a few druids that claim to hear them in the rustle of leaves, flow of water, and
stuff like that. Course, more than a few have gone crazy when they experience firsthand just how alive the
Beastlands are, so believe what you like.

Anyways, most other petitioners are transformed into animals too, or at least lycanthropes. You could go
weeks without running into a two-leg; those that survive here are the ones happy to live in the wilderness and
show proper respect. Others… well, they‘re in trouble. Those are the ones who‘ve heard the other name for
the plane, the Happy Hunting Grounds, and got the wrong idea. They think they‘re coming here to hunt some
dumb animal. Well, there ain‘t any dumb animals round here. We can talk, we can think, and we‘re smart. We
ain‘t gonna wander along and go ―oh look, here‘s some meat just sitting on the ground with a rope lying
around it, I think I‘ll go up and have a nibble. ‖ As often as not, those folk find that they‘re the ones who get
hunted. And the dumbest of the lot come to Karasuthra to hunt. Take it from me, there are things in the
darkness that you don‘t want to meet. Round here, if something goes bump in the night, it‘s usually pretty
closely followed by a scream.

Now then, there are three layers, each defined by the positions of the sun, Selera, and the moon, Noctos.
Krigala‘s the first layer, land of eternal noon, and folks I‘ve met say it‘s always about midday there. Not sure
how a day has a middle, but apparently it‘s important to you two-legs. I don‘t get there much because the
temperature doesn‘t really suit me, but I can tell you a thing or two. The place is intense, with huge patches of
desert and arid grassland taking up most of the layer, while on both sides of the River Oceanus are the
thickest rainforests you‘re ever gonna find. Not even the darkest storm clouds will block Selera‘s light or the
heaviest cover shelter against her heat, though, and Krigala has all types of odd beasts that have no right
existing in the natural state of things as far as I can tell. Not all are bad, though; Ehlonna‘s realm, the Grove of
Unicorns, and Skerrit‘s Glade, home to the centaur god, are peaceful places tucked deep in the forests with
their share of friendly faces.

The second layer is Brux, land of never-ending twilight. There the sun and moon are evenly balanced in the
sky; Selera is still visible over the horizon, but her brother Noctos can be seen as a half-moon opposite her,
absorbing much of Selera‘s light. Thus, Brux is much cooler and there are long comfortable shadows
everywhere. I‘m told that some people find that pretty disturbing, though I can‘t see why. Still, most of the
native two-legs live here: the winged-elves known as the avariel have their nest-towns amongst the trees,
while tribes of wild elves occupy the mist-covered land. There‘s also a fair number of hybrid and were-
creatures with their own niche communities. You know, catfolk and werecats, bearfolk and werebears. I hear
they‘re a rare sight on other planes, and I suppose it‘s natural they‘d feel most at home here. Never really
spent much time with any of them, but I don‘t have any problems with the ones that aren‘t actually, you know,
evil. Just ‗cause the Beastlands are one of the Upper Planes doesn‘t mean it‘s lacking some savage and
downright malevolent creatures.

177
I mostly live on the third layer, Karasuthra. This is Noctos‘ domain, and here the moon sits in the middle of
the sky reflecting only a faint amount of his brother‘s light and absorbing the rest. How much illumination there
is depends on the phase of the moon; decently bright at full moon, but more or less pitch black when the
moon‘s dark, and not much can change that. Noctos doesn‘t like competition, and he‘ll drain the energy out of
most other light sources. I told ya what‘s isn‘t natural don‘t belong, and here that includes torches, campfires,
and certain magics too. Which is fine by me. I guess the layer is the most unpleasant of the three for other
folk, though. There‘s a lot of things here that hunt in the dark, and most of them, you don‘t want to be caught
by.

Well, that‘s the general layout. Getting around the plane is pretty easy. There‘s lots of portals on each layer to
all over the place, mostly the Outlands and various prime worlds. I‘ve wandered into a couple by mistake, as
the keys are often pretty simple. Actually, gotta tell you, it‘s a great laugh. Wander onto a prime world, find a
local, and start talking to them. The look on their faces just before they start running, it‘s fantastic! Some folk I
know, they do it on a regular basis for the kicks. It‘s a great laugh, though I guess not as funny if you‘re not an
animal. Anyways, there‘s also plenty of paths between the Beastland‘s layers. Best trick is to keep your eye
on the sky, because if you see Selera or Noctos start to move and it begins to get lighter or darker then you‘re
probably wandering over into another layer. Sometimes it can happen pretty quick though, so you don‘t
always get enough warning to avoid it. Brux has the most of those, of course, being in the middle and all.
There‘s few direct pathways between Krigala and Karasuthra, which is just as well because many of the
creatures that live on one of those layers would be very badly out of place in the other.

Let‘s see, what else might you want to know. Gods? Hey, glad you asked, I‘d nearly forgotten. You two-legged
folk set a lot of store by powers don‘t you? Well, we don‘t have that many in the Beastlands. A few, mostly of
nature or hunting, or some kind of animal. But we got plenty of the next best thing: the Animal Lords. There‘s
one Animal Lord for each broad group of animals. So there‘s a Spider Lord for all spiders, a Cat Lord for all
cats, and so on. They‘re not powers, so they can‘t do the things that a real god can, but they‘re pretty
powerful. Tread carefully around them because if you really annoy them, the chances are that you won‘t make
it off the plane with all of your limbs attached. Heck, even the Lords who have pretty inoffensive followers, like
the Mouse Lord, can probably tear most of you two-legs to pieces if they really want to. Now think of the Cat
Lord, who‘s not only tougher in her own right, but can also stick anything in the cat family on you. Ever wanted
to be eaten by a pack of lions? Here‘s your chance.

Yeah, you‘re right, I eat mice sometimes. And no, it doesn‘t get me into trouble with the Mouse Lord. See, you
gotta play the game by the rules. I eat what I need to survive. That might be mice, it might be berries, it might
be some bird, it might be something I come across that some other creature had killed. And I hide from the
bigger creatures that might want to eat me. That‘s the balance, that‘s OK. Now if I went around just killing
loads of creatures for the fun of it, then I‘d be a menace and I‘d get into trouble. That‘s how come some of you
two-legs get to live on this plane for decades, and others get themselves killed within hours. Live within the
rules, take what you need and no more. That‘s why the
fiends and shadow creatures that occasionally come to
Karasuthra get themselves killed fairly quickly. I‘ve heard
tell from you two-legs that we‘re all ―good‖ creatures in
some way. It ain‘t really that, we‘re just natural. And killing
for fun, that isn‘t really natural, so we don‘t tolerate it.
That‘s the way things are.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: The Beastlands are mildly good.

Those of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Creatures: Aasimon, baku, mortai, and normal and

giant-zized varieties of any number of animals.

178
 Arborea

Excerpt from a Sensate induction lecture by Chaminda Vaas

At this point in your introduction to the Society of Sensation, it falls to me to tell you about the Plane where we
are considered to exert most influence, namely that of Arborea. Firstly, let me introduce myself. I am
Chaminda Vaas, and I have been a Sensate for longer than most of you have been alive, something in the
order or 150 years now. I lived on Arborea for around 50 of those years, so I am more than qualified to tell
people about the plane. I can say, with a fair degree of confidence, because I‘ve seen it before, that most of
the people currently in this room have missed the idea of what being a Sensate is. You‘ve probably got the
idea that it‘s all about finding new ways to get drunk, or have sex, or something equally decadent. Sadly, my
experience is that most of the people we recruit are the shallow, vapid type who believes this sort of
misinformation.

I am equally confident that most of the people in this room have missed the idea of the plane of Arborea. The
common perception is that it is the ultimate party plane, where the booze, the laughter and the fun never
stops. Those of you who want to find that in Arborea will probably be able to do so. If nothing else, you can
always join the Bacchae, and never be seen again.

What I am about to tell you is for the few who are still listening to my words, and are really hearing them. The
few who truly understand what it is to be a Sensate, rather than lusting after pure hedonism. The few who will
learn something from my talk that will be useful to them later in their lives, that will be able to look back to this
day and say to themselves “this is when I really started to learn something about myself”.

Arborea is everything that you have heard it to be. It is a place of plenty, and enjoyment, of fulfilment. Even
today it provides over one third of the produce eaten in Sigil, be that bread, fruit, vegetables, wines or
whatever. It is a place that caters to the tastes of the individual, that allows you to express yourself as you
would wish to do so. It is the plane where you may find your inner poet, your inner musician, or inner
playwright. It is the plane where the Sensates send their less… inspired members, to let them quietly enjoy
themselves out of harm‘s way, as much as you can be in this multiverse.

And for those willing to look beneath the surface, Arborea is nothing less than a lesson in the nature of life
itself.

179
Almost everything that I have said about Arborea, and almost everything that you know about Arborea, comes
from not only one layer of the plane, but one realm of that plane. That realm is Olympus, home to most of a
pantheon of Gods called the Olympians, headed by a power called Zeus. The elves in the audience today will
know that the other major realm of the first layer is Arvandor, home to most of the Seldarine, the elven
pantheon. These two realms are so closely identified with the layer that depending on who you speak to, the
first layer tends to be called either Arvandor or Olympus. The important thing to note is that Arvandor is not
quite such a place of revelry as Olympus, and that there is an awful lot of the layer that falls within neither
realm, not least the Gilded Hall that the Sensates maintain as their base on Arborea.

If you care to scratch beneath the surface of Arborea, you will find the layer of Ossa, or Aquallor. The second
layer of the plane is one of water. You‘d better be able to swim, because no-one is aware of any land
anywhere on the layer. Breathing water would be handy as well, because the storms that wrack the layer tend
to make the surface untrustworthy for ships, and the best place to be is beneath the waves.

But the real lesson is the third layer. This is the lesson that the wise will take to heart. This is the bit that really
teaches you something about life, not just on Arborea, but everywhere. Look really deeply, and you‘ll find
something harsh and deadly. In Arborea‘s case, it is the layer of Pelion, or Mithardir. An endless desert of
white sand. Few travel there, and few of those return. There is an isolated realm or location of interest on the
layer, but you‘d better know exactly where they are because you could spend a dozen lifetimes wandering
without finding them. Travel unprepared and Pelion will make your one lifetime all too brief.

And that is what you should really learn about Arborea. Life is struggle. Life is survival. If you need an
example of this, look no further than the two main races resident on Arborea; the elves and the eladrin. It is
true that both races appreciate fine art, fine poetry, fine wine, fine food and fine living. They appreciate peace
and beauty. They like what may be described as the good life. But it is equally true that members of both
races would lay down those lives to fight evil, to protect the innocent, to defend the weak. The guardinals and
archons may tell you that they do not agree with the emphasis on the individual that the eladrin or the elves
place, but that the dedication that those races have to fighting evil, in all its forms, neither the guardinals nor
the archons would fault.

Those of you with the right minds, with the right interests, with the right understanding of what the Society of
Sensation is about, will learn much from Arborea, and from its residents. You will learn to appreciate the
beauty of a tranquil wood at sunrise. The taste of a fine wine. The emotion, the drama, of a good play. The
fact that each person must find their own niche, their own appreciation of each sensation, their own
understanding. That everyone is different, and unique, and should be treated as such. And that ideas like this,
are worth defending, with everything you have to give. That beneath the velvet exterior that, like Arborea, you
portray to those who glance casually at you, you must have the steely sinews, the strength, the courage and
the determination to fight for individualism and for what is right.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant:
Arborea is mildly good and
mildly chaotic. Those of
opposing alignment are at a
-2 to Cha checks. These
affects stack for multiple
alignments.

Creatures: Cyclops, foo

creatures, giants, sphinx,
titans, elves, eladrin.

180
 Ysgard
Thorstein Skammlaus

Ah, Ysgard, now there‘s a plane where folk know how to live. Good people, great food, land unlike anything
else on the planes, and adventure ready to be had around every corner. It‘s got the best of the Upper Planes
without the boredom or the celestials breathing down your neck. Acheron may be where leaders make war
and Elysium may be where champions find their rest, but Ysgard is where boys become men and legends are
born! Fill up my mug, cutter, and I‘ll give you all the chant you need to know.

Smack between the extravagant Arborea and the rolling expanse of Limbo, Ysgard is a place of extremes. It
represents the essence of freedom and chaos while not abandoning itself to madness or anarchy. A basher is
not only given the right to make their own way, but expected to do so against all odds and come out stronger
for it. The plane is a harsh and dangerous place, with rocky plains and jagged mountains combined with
scorching summers and freezing cold winters. Giants, dragons, and other monsters roam the land and wage
endless war against the inhabitants. The powers and proxies here intervene rarely, and even the help of a
neighbor comes with the expectancy that the favor will be returned. All of this comes not out of cruelty, but
from the genuine belief that a cutter reaches their peak only when they‘re truly challenged in life. Here a
body‘s judged not by their abilities or their methods, but by their determination and strength of spirit. Even the
weak of frame have a home in Ysgard, for the plane will always give you enough to get by; it‘s just up to you
to make use of it. Sound a lot like them Fated? Yeah, well this is their home, and a good majority of the
planars here are a member of the faction. The outlook of that faction is based on lessons learned on Ysgard,
and anyone who thinks they‘re heartless prolly doesn‘t have what it takes to last long there.

The petitioners and other residents of Ysgard are about the hardiest, most stubborn lot you‘re going to find.
They gotta be, else someone or something is gonna eat them up. I hear parts of the Upper Planes emphasize
challenges and growth, but here folks aren‘t interested in giving you a helping hand and no one‘s pulling any
punches. Heck, charity is just a sign that you think c someone doesn‘t have what it takes to take care of
themselves. Sure, most everyone follows some sort of honor code and bashers of all sort will band together to
vike, but that‘s only because that‘s the best way they can make a name for themselves. Even the Valkyrie,
who are the closest thing to exemplar the plane really has, are more likely to watch a berk meet his end than a
lift a hand in aid. If you see one on their winged steeds on the battlefield there‘s a good chance you‘re about
to be put in the dead-book.

Still, the Valks are a great lot, and can be real useful if you convince them to help you since their about the
only ones who can get from one region to another without trouble. That‘s damn important considering how the
plane is broken up. See, there are three layers to Ysgard, but the first two aren‘t actually single layers but
more a collection of islands floating miles and miles above the third. The bottoms of these earthbergs are
aflame and send a continuous jet of steam rising up along the rim, poising a dangerous obstacle to all but the
Valkyrie and often blanketing the tops with heavy mist. These isles range in size from that of a small rock to
that of a continent - what? No, I don‘t know why they float; do I look like a sodding Guvner? Keep your trap
shut and listen - and get me another mug while you‘re at it.

The first and topmost-layer, which is also called Ysgard, or Ysgard proper, is where you‘ll find most of the
plane‘s residents, including the Asgardian pantheon and their followers, the mysterious Vanir powers and their
elven and fey ilk in Alfheim, and the nomad tribes of bariaur that call the hills and plains kip. Asgard seems to
be the largest realm of the layer, and its here that even mortals can know the joy of glorious death in combat
and rebirth in the morn‘. Whoever said that rule applies to all of Ysgard was spoutin‘ pure screed, and prolly
looking to have a laugh at sending clueless to the dead-book. The River Oceanus also comes to an end along
the realm‘s shores, which folk use to sail their longships to other earthbergs or to the Upper Planes when
seeking trade or going viking.

Of course, the Oceanus doesn‘t connect to every island, or even most of them, so most rely on airships made
specifically for that purpose (few in Ysgard proper trust magic or beasts enough for the task, and neither
provide the benefits of a sturdy ship). These vessels supposedly only work in Ysgard, though I‘ve heard a tale
or two of ships manufactured to travel across the planes. Once past the curtain of steam along the edges
these ships need only worry about the strong winds and occasional storm in traveling to the other earthbergs.
If for some reason the airships aren‘t an option there‘s always the World Ash, Yggdrasil, whose branches
reach many Ysgard‘s corners, as well as those of other planes. I won‘t tally on the great tree save to say you
should see it just for the sight, but navigating its paths can be tricky at best.

181
The second most notorious earthberg of Ysgard proper is Jotunheim, land of the giants, a frozen wasteland
where the big prey on the small and valor gives way to power, pure and simple. The frost giants, led by their
god Thrym, are the uncontested rulers of the land, though the fire giants also dwell in Jotunheim‘s massive
volcanoes. The island is surrounded by a river of huge shards of ice that‘s nearly impossible to navigate safely
(severely hampering the giants‘ ability to spread to other lands, thankfully). Planar towns are barely able to
survive in the realm‘s endless winter, and those that do have no choice but to offer fealty to the giants and
pray that they won‘t be destroyed on a whim. As if that wasn‘t enough to keep a sod busy, I‘ve heard tales of
packs of vampires migrating from town to town or setting themselves up as jarls, their nature protecting them
from most of the realm‘s natural hazards. Planars in Jotunheim expect everyone to do whatever they can get
a way with and act accordingly, but they‘re truly not evil or vicious, they just do what‘s required of them to
survive.

Now park your ears to me cutter, for if yer going to Ysgard, you need to know this. What good there is in
Ysgard dies on its second layer, Muspelheim. There the earthbergs float upside down, with flames scaring
the ground and smoke choking the air. There are endless storms of ash and soot, and even the rocks will cut
your feet to ribbon. Trust me, it‘s all the worst the Elemental Plane of Fire has to offer with none of the
amenities. Only the fire giants and their beasts can survive that hell. Surtur, their god, lays claim to all of
Muspelheim, though I‘ve heard tales of other powers that inhabit a few of the isles unbeknownst to him. It is a
rare planewalker who has journeyed to Muspelheim and escaped the patrols of giants long enough to explore
far, and I have heard tales of places where no magic or gear can protect you from the flames. It is said much
of the multiverse was once forged from the flames of Muspelheim, and that Surtur guards the dark of its
creation and eventual destruction. Screed or not, I have little doubt there are many things of power and value
hidden there, but there‘s more than enough excitement to be found on the first layer if you ask me.

Nidavellir, Ysgard‘s third layer, isn‘t the most welcoming place either, but it‘s a far shot better. While it
possesses a surface like most other planes, if pretty desolate, most of the plane is hidden underground.
Freedom is the most important thing here, and the inhabitants have little interest in the conflicts of the planes
beyond what it takes to ensure their own independence and livelihood. Its tunnels and caverns are split mostly
between the warring realms of Nidavellir proper, populated by the dwarves and gnomes, and Svartalfheim, the
underground forests of the dark elves. The dwarves and gnomes are obsessed with the acquisition of wealth
for its own sake, believing that it is the only thing that can guarantee their freedom and protect them from any
hard times ahead. Though the two races are rivals, together they provide some of the finest crafts and magics
this side of the Great Wheel, and they remain united against the dark elves.

The elves for their part seem to want little more than to hide away in their strange caverns, where trees and
other plants that don‘t require sunlight grow. Supposedly they make an existence of hoarding secrets and
making pacts with the Court of Unseelie fey, as well as even less savory beasts, but you‘ll hardly get a word
out of them to prove it one way or another. All in all they‘re nothing like stories of drow I‘ve heard from the
Prime, but they‘re no more trusted. No one‘s quite sure why either realm wars with the other, but it wouldn‘t
surprise me if the whole thing was just out of paranoia of what the other side would do if left unchecked.
Racial wars aside, the gods only know what you could learn from the folk of Nidavellir if you could convince
them to let down their guard for a bit. But hey, if they‘ve survived this long the way they have they must‘ve
figured something out right.

Planar Traits

Energy-dominant: Some regions have the

minor positive-dominant trait, in which living
creatures gain fast heal 2 and regeneration.
Petitioners of Ysgard raise within 24 hours if
killed on the plane.

Alignment-dominant: Ysgard is mildly

chaotic. Those of opposing alignment are at
a -2 to Cha checks.

Creatures: Foo creatures, hollyphant,

planetar, ratatosk, Norse petitioners, drow,
dwarves, giants, bariaur.

182
 Limbo
A Strange Petitioner inside a Moon

Good you see how to. Sit like to down would you? Hah,
had you worried I was another one of those bloody
chaosmen, didn‘t I? As if the Xaositects were the only
ones who would choose to spend their time in Limbo. As
barmy as they come, those people, and I use the term
lightly. What they lack in intellect, they make up for
dedication, however. It‘s not easy being devoting to the
primordial wild that is chaos incarnate. You‘ve shown quite
a bit of perseverance yourself, forcing your way past my
guards like that. No, I‘m not angry, everything you
destroyed has already been remade, and in Limbo such
obstinacy should be rewarded. Come, I shall fashion seats
for you and then we can talk like civilized beings. You will
forgive me if I ramble on, I have grown accustomed to the
sound of my own voice being my sole companion these
past two centuries, for it has been far too long since I last
had visitors.

You must have been surprised to see something so large

floating in the wild. I modeled this realm after the moon of
my home on the Prime Material. It‘s about the right size
and a fair replica if I do say so myself, though perhaps the
chaos-matter has eroded it some while my mind
wandered. You were swimming through it weren‘t you, the
chaos-matter? Is this your first time in Limbo? Yes, that
would explain that little spell on you, something to protect
you from the more dangerous properties of the plane.
Really not necessary, and you never know when such magic will go awry at an inopportune time. It‘s not hard
to create air to breathe and even ground to walk on. Surely you saw how the chaos-matter changes. The stuff
is made of equal amounts of the four elements, but randomly shifts in consistency. Bubbles of air ignite into
flame or become solid rock. Earth changes to water and back again, before reverting to raw chaos-matter. I
know it can be quite disorienting at times, there being neither up nor down, and it must be terrifying for those
afraid of drowning. Or of being buried alive, or of catching on fire! Really, traveling through Limbo can be quite
like swimming through a thick, deadly soup. So I‘ve been told, anyways.

Amazing isn‘t it? All of Limbo filled with this chaos-matter, no layers or boundaries to give it any semblance of
order or definition. It can be hard to appreciate until you realize that all Creation was once like this, that the
Great Ring itself originated here. Few people know that about Limbo, and plenty would rather disregard it for
other tales tailored to their beliefs. No, I won‘t try to answer how it all came into being. I‘m just as willing to
believe it a random act as the providence of some long forgotten deity. After all, strange and wonderful things
pop into existence all the time here. If you think about it, with the chaos-matter continually changing you‘re
bound to find something a bit more interesting than elemental pockets eventually. More often than you‘d think
I‘ve seen realms that look like they were ripped straight from the Prime; masses of earth complete with grass,
trees, and other terrain, sometimes even air and gravity all their own. Mazes of coral reefs, castles made of
crystal, explosive symphonies of light and sound, and other sights and sounds far more amazing. The plane
spontaneously forms it all, and just as spontaneously tears it apart. The most beautiful, impossible things can
be found in Limbo, only to vanish without a moment‘s notice. I‘ve spent days on the surface of my realm
watching diamond tears rain upon the ground, sat in the middle of a sun as its light and heat transformed into
musical notes, let my body dissolve under the acidic caresses of…

Er, pardon me, I‘m rambling again. Anyways, it‘d be a real tragedy that such things fade away if not for the fact
that a strong mind can hold it together or recreate it at will. That‘s what I was getting at a minute ago when I
said it‘s really a simple matter to survive without magic. Even mortals can shape the chaos-matter to their
whim, from altering the elemental shifts to bringing one‘s wildest dreams to life. With a tad bit of luck even the
most unskilled can control the area around them enough to create pockets of air to breathe, while anarchs,
the true masters of chaos-shaping, can create entire cities or bend the very laws of reality. That‘s how the

183
githzerai in ages past went and made themselves a civilization out of nothing. Most techniques of chaos-
shaping used today are muddled derivations of those invented by the githzerai chaos-shapers of the Anarch
Guild, though I honestly doubt any of them have the expertise to make something as grand as this realm of
mine! There are any number of folk who have attempted to follow in their footsteps, going off in the wild to
make realms of their own. Then they see this place and think I‘m just dying to spend a decade teaching
someone to make a moon of their own! They should stick with the githzerai, they make excellent teachers,
assuming you can convince them you‘re ―worthy for instruction ‖ and all that. Otherwise, you can always find
a mentor among any of the lesser Anarch Guilds. Just make sure you‘re dealing with someone reputable.

As you can see young adventurer, there‘s no place quite like Limbo. A few planes come close, namely the
Ethereal and the Dream, each with its own take on raw dynamism and creativity, but what they lack is the
most important quality of Limbo:
freedom. Freedom from scarcity, from
the social mores and dependencies
of society, and most of all freedom
from others trying to set the course of
your life. If you don‘t like the way of
things in a given community, there‘s
little to stop you from setting out to
live life as you, to literally make the
world into what you want it to be. The
chaos-matter can be shaped to meet
most physical needs, there‘s no
demand for farmers, cobblers,
smiths, or any number of professions
people take up in order to survive. A
body can make their own food, tools,
or home. You can choose to live on
an island in the middle of a vast
ocean, in a dense forest of tall trees
and wild flowers, or among the stars
of a night sky. Build a community with
like-minded fellows or strike out on
your own as you see fit. Individualism
at its purest.

Hm? A fine question! With the option

to live like a god, you‘d think there‘d
be a lot more people making their
way to Limbo. Ironically, most are
scared off by the dangers of chaos-
matter before realizing the potential it
has. But more importantly, becoming
proficient enough in chaos-shaping
that you do not have to continually
concentrate to maintain what you
create requires years of dedicated
training. As if the prospect of crafting
your own world wasn‘t alluring
enough, some people are just so
reliant on the social constructs of
their home community that they
refuse to do what it takes to claim
control of their lives! Sadly, not all of
those who do accept the challenge
are up to the task of constantly
pondering subjective reality, and they
simply lose a bit of sanity along the
way. Ironically, such individuals tend
to demonstrate amazing capability for

184
chaos-shaping, even if they can‘t tell the difference between what is a figment of their own creation and what
isn‘t. Perhaps they‘re better off that way. The Xaositects appear happy enough, and I‘ve often thought that
might be how they got started. No, but we dislike them. Insane little vermin, constantly milling about trying to
tear away pieces of our realm…

The greatest threat to living out one‘s days in a fantasyland, however, are the native beasts of the Limbo. The
plane hosts a number of very dangerous creatures that will hunt others for food or sport, most of which are
highly adaptive and natural chaos-shapers. Anyone that spends an extended in the wild has to be able to fend
off monsters themselves or find strength in numbers, meaning that one has to be pretty resilient to hold onto a
realm on their own. The slaadi are the most well-known and prevalent predators of the plane; there are even
more of the accursed toad-men than Xaositects floating around in the wild, and they‘re equally likely to try and
gnaw on your bones! Don‘t waste any time trying to strike up a conversation with one, slaadi see other
creatures only as things to do what they want with. While they don‘t normally gang up on their prey, they love
to travel in packs and will attack travelers or even entire colonies. The only recourse a realm has is to have a
militia ready at all times for the inevitable assault.

How do I survive by myself? Oh, I was made a green slaad‘s meal ages ago. No matter, things have been on
the up and up ever since. I can‘t explain to you how liberating it is to no longer be confined by a physical body.
You never realize how much such things limit you until you‘re forced to give them up. Don‘t look so dour;
embrace the freedom Limbo offers and you‘ll have an eternity to make a moon of your own!

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Limbo is strongly chaotic. Those not of this alignment are at a -2 to Cha, Int, Wis
checks.

Modified magic: Limbo is subject to wild magic effects as described above.

Creatures: Githzerai, slaadi.

185
 Pandemonium
Clurston-and-Friend

You hear that, mate? That moaning, shrieking, whistling, sighing? You'll hear that a lot here in Pandemonium.
Matter of fact, you can't really get away from it. At first, the constant sound of the wind plays tricks with a sods'
minds, makin' 'em angry, or depressed, or hysterical, or one after the other. After a while, though, you'll get
used to it. 'Course, there are those who say the only way you get used to the wind is by goin' completely
sodding barmy. Now, Clurston an' I, we've been here long enough, we don't even notice the wind anymore
unless we're specifically listening for it. Who's Clurston? He's the basher standing right next to me; who do
you think he is? What do you mean you don't see him? He's a seven-foot walking elephant shrew; he's kind of
hard to miss, ain't he? Hey, don't get sore at me, berk. It's easy to get sore here. That's just the wind gettin'
into your head. You'll get used to it.

Yeah, all of Pandemonium's like this, pretty much. Just endless caverns, with the wind whistlin' through.
Gravity‘s toward whichever side o‘ the cave you‘re closest to, so you can walk around a bit an‘ find yourself on
what a minute ago you were seein‘ as the ceiling. An‘ the whole plane‘s dark as a loth‘s heart, if you ain‘t
carryin‘ your own light source, which‘ll sure draw attention from anything nearby. Actually, if you're
claustrophobic, the lower layers are worse. Here on Pandesmos, the first layer, sure there are some narrow
tunnels, but there are a lot o‘ great big caverns, too, huge enough to fit a good-sized burg in and have plenty
o‘ room to spare, so most of the locales make kip here. But Cocytus, well, the rooms an‘ passages there are
a little smaller, and a little twistier, an‘ the wind, it‘s a little louder, an‘ a little shriller. Well, a lot louder, actually;
you think the wind here’s bad, go to Cocytus and you‘ll see it could be worse.

186
Phlegethon, the third layer, well, maybe it ain‘t much more cramped than the upper layers, and maybe the
wind ain‘t as loud there as in Cocytus, but it‘s got issues of its own. For one thing, it‘s cold. Cold as a hag‘s
embrace, it is—not like the Plane of Ice, maybe, but cold enough to make a body uncomfortable who‘s used to
warmer climes. For another, there are rumors of all sorts of terrible beasts there, huge dragons and giant
oozes and the Lady knows what else. Not that there‘s much to back those rumors up, so it could be all screed,
but you won‘t catch me wandering around there tryin‘ to find out. Also, it might be worth mentioning is that the
gravity there only works one way; you can‘t walk around on the ceiling like on the other layers—‘course, this
means dripping water gets the chance to build up, an‘ you can see all sorts o‘ beautiful cave formations there
—least, that‘s what I‘m told. I ain‘t been to Phlegethon myself, and like I said I ain‘t got much desire to go
there.

Finally, Agathion, the lowest layer—well, it's just a few little pockets of air in a great expanse o' stone. Which
makes it real hard to get around there, but it also makes it a good place for stickin‘ things a cutter don‘t want
found. Chant is the bubbles of Agathion are peppered with imprisoned terrible monsters and hidden treasures
and artifacts—though if they are, they‘re like to stay imprisoned and hidden for a good many long years yet.

What‘s the matter now, berk? Yeah, something‘s the matter, the way you‘re standin‘ there slumped. What?
Oh, I‘m sure you‘ll be able to make a good report out of all this. You know what? You‘re just feelin‘ hopeless
‘cause the wind‘s gettin‘ to you. That‘s all. It‘s just the wind gettin‘ in your head. You‘ll get used to it.

So, yeah, like I was sayin‘, all the layers of Pandemonium are just solid stone with a few caves in ‘em. You
know what, though? If you look closely at some o' that stone, you can see what looks like the marks o' tools.
In the second layer, at least, it‘s obvious though here an‘ there I‘ve seen what I could swear looked like chisel
marks on the other layers too—they‘re just hidden better.

Pandemonium‘s where the headwaters are o‘ the Styx, too, incidentally. You‘ll see streams and tributaries
runnin‘ all through the plane, along all the surfaces of the caves an‘ sometimes just through the air right down
the middle. Fortunately, here on Pandemonium gettin‘ a little Styx water splashed on you won‘t hurt you none,
though the stuff still ain‘t safe to drink. Ain‘t safe to take a dip in, neither, unless you twig to gettin‘ swept along
in the current and endin‘ up in the middle of the Blood War on the Waste, or the moat of an evil titan‘s castle in
Carceri. Now, I know Pandemonium may not be most bashers‘ favorite spot to be, but there are places I‘d like
to be less.

Calm down, berk, calm down! I was just gettin‘ to that! No need to get so excited! Eh, but I can‘t blame you;
it‘s not really your fault. It‘s just the wind gettin‘ into your head, that‘s all. You‘ll get used to it.

So, inhabitants. Yeah. Now, Pandemonium, it's not home to any big planar race, like the tanar'ri or the
yugoloths or the slaadi. I mean, you'll see some of any of those in the plane occasionally, but there's no race
that comes from here. Not anymore, anyway. Unless whatever dug those tunnels is still somewhere out there,
hiding. Clurston, now, he says he saw one once, a weird thing like a giant clawed hand with a face on it, that
moved about on a mass of tentacles. But Clurston—well, don't tell him I said this, but sometimes he sees
things that ain't there. I've even caught him talking to imaginary friends. Sad, really.

But anyway, even if there ain't any big exemplar race that hails from here, that don't mean there ain't other
creatures that do. Like the howlers, for one. You think the wind is bad? Wait till you hear one of those. Their
howls are like the winds o‘ Pandemonium in concentrated form. An‘ there are the murska, giant carnivorous
beetle things that can wear the skins o‘ their prey and imitate them to lure their former comrades within easy
reach.

187
'Course, like all the Outer Planes, Pandemonium has its petitioners. They‘re easy to tell apart from petitioners
elsewhere, too—and I mean aside from the fact that they‘re all barmier than a drunken slaad. They‘re all real
thin an‘ emaciated-like, the better to withstand the force o‘ the wind, an‘ they have claw-like fingers an‘ toes,
an‘ clawed heels, too, the better to keep a grip on the cave surface when the wind blows hard. An‘ they don‘t
wear much in the way o‘ clothing, seein‘ as the wind would just whip it around or tear it to shreds anyway.

And then, of course, there are the humans and other mortal planars who live here. Not as many as on some o‘
the other Outer Planes, but there are a few. Now, a lot o‘ the people here, they‘re exiles, banished to
Pandemonium for one reason or another—there‘s even a whole sect o‘ berks, the Dispossessed, who mainly
call kip in Pandemonium, an‘ spend their time stewin‘ about how they‘ve been wronged, an‘ how they‘re
gonna get back at the people who wronged ‘em. Their main case is a burg called Windglum, in Phlegethon,
but you‘ll find ‘em elsewhere, too. ‘Course, while we‘re on the subject o‘ factions with a presence in
Pandemonium, I guess we‘ve gotta mention the Bleak Cabal. They‘ve got their own case in Pandesmos,
called the Madhouse. An‘, having visited there myself, I can tell you the place earns its name. Oh, I‘m not
sayin‘ the Bleakers are any barmier than anyone else here. Well, not much, at any rate. Most everyone you‘ll
meet here is barmy as they come, from an outsider‘s viewpoint, though they ain‘t all barmy in the same way.
Even Clurston here. I told you he‘s got an imaginary friend, didn‘t I? So anyway, I—

What‘s that you‘re doin‘, mate? I—don‘t know why you‘re drawin‘ things in your own flesh with your dagger
like that. Don‘t look too healthy. But then, I guess that‘s your way of adaptin‘ to the wind, ain‘t it? We all got our
own ways o‘ dealin‘ with it, and maybe that‘s yours. Like I said, the wind drives everyone barmy, in their own
way. Nah, you don‘t have to believe me. Seems no one believes it when their own twitch is pointed out. Heh.
Still, looks to me you‘ve finally got used to the wind. Welcome to Pandemonium, blood.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant:
Pandemonium is mildly chaotic.
Those of opposing alignment are
at a -2 to Cha checks.

Movement: Pandemonium is
known for its strong winds as
described above.

Creatures: Howlers, howling

dragons, cranium rats, tanar‘ri,
slaadi.

188
 The Abyss
Serenity-of-Pain of the Former Gate-Town of Plague-Mort

Citizens of Plague-Mort, life is hell. This is obvious to the Bleakers, driven mad trying to find sense in a
senseless multiverse. It‘s evident in the philosophy of the Dustmen, each of them pining for escape from this
cruel life. The Doomguard understand this fact best, for they see entropy‘s hand at work as strife breeds
greater hatred and violence, and all that was once good is torn apart. The maxims of power and corruption are
the only constants in the multiverse, my friends, and beyond this gate we shall find those truths made
manifest!

Don‘t believe me? Then ask yourself, why is there not a single world in the Prime Material that is free of war?
Why do the forces of Good bicker and fight with one another rather than vanquish evil from existence? If we
know that even the exalted gods of the Upper Planes are impotent before the terrors through this gate, then
we know that peace and harmony are but a stopgap, a futile resistance against the inevitable. Evil continues
to fester throughout the multiverse, and the seeds of corruption can be seen buried in all things! We do not fall
into damnation this evening; the consequences of our misdeeds have not caught up with us. You see my
compatriots, we have always been in hell! For no matter where in the Great Ring one might run, the Abyss
was there first!

There are countless tales of what we can expect to find. It is true, the Abyss is the largest of all planes,
hosting an infinite number layers, one for every evil act possible and torment imaginable. Some house forests
of blood drinking trees, sunlight that sears flesh from bone, or living darkness that drains away the warmth of
one‘s soul. Can one hope to imagine prisons constructed from screams, or pits where are all one‘s senses
become mute and useless? Horrors to be hold, certainly. Horrors to inflict upon one‘s rivals, upon those
worms beneath you, and ultimately upon those who dare claim to be better than you! Those of you who are
smart enough, fast enough, will become masters over your leatherhead peers and find exultation in orgies of
food, flesh, and violence. You will come to know the wonders and allures of the Abyss, discover firsthand what
draws planars and primes, bloods and berks, to the Infinite Hells.

Here, now, before this great gate, I shall be your guide. Not out of mercy, nor out of any hope of cooperation,
but because when you abandon your fear and restraint as I have our little burg will join the gate-towns that
have gone before on the Layer of Infinite Portals, first layer of the Abyss! Yes, I know much of the land beyond
the gate. It is a barren wasteland burning under a bright red sun, riddled with iron keeps and pits that lead
further into the Abyss. The forces of evil gather there to make war upon the Great Ring or move from layer to
layer, but no man nor demon nor power can claim the first layer as their own. Roving mobs, dozens or
hundreds strong, demonstrate that even the weakest know real power in numbers. Such gangs will provide
you your first opportunity to prove your worth, or, at least for the clueless, a faster death than what the plane
might give you otherwise.

The strongholds and few towns that have managed to survive the chaos and destruction of the plane can
provide for most of your needs or desires, assuming you have what it takes to buy or seize them for yourself.
Food, weapons, drugs, slaves, and magics of every sort—many of which are unknown or illegal in the rest of
the multiverse—can be found in their markets, but you‘ll find jink holds little true worth compared to the
intrinsic value of blood, flesh, and souls. Some of you may be able to trade for services, but only fools accept
one‘s word in a deal, and fools are put in the dead-book might quick. Likewise, any gully merchants thinking
they can make an honest profit from the Abyss deserve whatever you can give them. Honesty and honor are
some of the first lies to be stripped away like oh so much deadweight.

Now scan this, you sodding maggot-brained rubes! The clueless amongst you have been flapping their bone-
boxes about resisting the Abyss‘ pull hoping you can avoid the nastiness of the Blood War. You think we ain‘t
part of it already? You think the baatezu don‘t send their spies through here, hoping to pick up some chant on
their enemies? You think the tanar‘ri don‘t use our little town as a meat-shield to guard this here gate? They‘ve
been grabbing folks to serve as cannon fodder from this burg since its founding. We‘re already part of the
Blood War, just like every piking planar and power in the whole multiverse. Aye, the battles of the Blood War
come to the Abyss, especially the first layer, and when they don‘t the demons are often looking to snatch
some new recruits. But there can be no freedom from it, it is the rage and the hatred of the Abyss reaching out
to consume the Great Ring. The only recourse a blood has is to prove to every berk and basher that they‘re
too damn mean and tough to be put on the front lines.

189
What of the lower depths of the Abyss? Yes, the baatezu rarely make it past the first layer. Even if they did,
they‘d just as soon be made slaves or food for what lies below. Many of the plane‘s layers are held by
monstrous deities and their petitioners, whether they be the drow of the Demonweb Pits, lizardfolk of the
Phantom Plane, beholders in the Realm of a Million Eyes, troglodytes from the Rotting Plane, or other fell
creatures without name. Aye, the Abyss has more deities and petitioners than any plane of existence,
countless monstrosities, human and not, of every form. Some can be reasoned with, but many will just as
soon tear you to bloody mist while exalting the name of their god. If you‘re truly lucky, you might be welcome
amongst the worshippers of one of the dread powers and ascend to a purer form.

No, bar that, if you‘re truly lucky you‘ll live long enough to find places where vice is made manifest and evil
finds true reward. Temples to sadism, cults of lust and greed, and dens of debasement and degeneracy are
rare treasures hidden throughout the Abyss, where the savageness of life momentarily gives way to the
purification of a specific form of sin. Sometimes they are dedicated to a god or demon lord, other times they
are simply led by mortals demonstrating a capacity for evil beyond their humble means. In such places even
the tanar‘ri can find pleasure, relax, and appreciate a world without virtue or restraint.

Ahh, the tanar‘ri, greatest of all demons, of all fiends! They and the abyssal lords above them are the true
masters of the Infinite Hells, for their numbers are endless and can be found in nearly every realm and layer of
the Abyss. They are the exemplar to which we must all aspire, for the tanar‘ri are unadulterated power,
constantly evolving spirits of wanton pain, destruction, and sin. Their lust and gluttony are boundless, their
anger and hatred affirmations to the cruelty of the Abyss and of all Creation. They possess a singularity of
purpose that other beings can only dream of, for the tanar‘ri recognize that in the deepest regions of soul,
under the false guises of civility and moral conscious, each individual is a monster all their own. Theirs is the
freedom to indulge in every dark thought and every foul impulse, to do everything we secretly desire to do and
revel in every second of it. Each is a unique being all its own, a product of the individual hell that has been its
life. Only their pride and jealousy of one another has prevented them from overrunning the Great Ring, but
that is what makes them strong, for those who can survive the treachery of their fellows rise in rank and power
until they can be counted among the true tanar‘ri. There is no greater form save that of a god itself, and yes,
my dear friends, the dark is that the tanar‘ri lords may eventually rise to the status of power! Freedom and
power, the enticements of the Abyss, of evil itself.

Do you hear it now? That voice in your heart

that cries to be free, that demands the
abandonment of all virtue and restraint? It
has undoubtedly grown loud in the ears of
many of you, else we would not find our little
burg sliding into the maws of the Abyss.
Embrace it! It is the voice of truth, long
smothered by the tyranny of conscience and
shame, and it will drive us to untold ecstasies
and power. The time will come when all the
multiverse returns to this natural state, when
the Planes of Law and Good are nothing
more but layers of scorched ruins lost in the
Infinite Hells. By then we shall be lords of the
tanar‘ri and gods amongst men!

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: The Abyss is mildly

chaotic and mildly evil. Those of opposing
alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks. These
affects stack for multiple alignments.

Creatures: Eyewing, fetch, fire shadows,

quasits, retrievers, tanar‘ri, viper trees.

190
 Carceri
Siclin Jade

I bet you hate me. I can see it in your eyes. That rage, that desperate need to hurt me like I‘ve done to you.
But you‘ve already put me through far worse, and let me tell you berk, you don‘t know the first thing about real
hate! What you‘re feeling now, imagine it like flame burning away at your insides for a hundred years, until all
that‘s left is a toxic sludge where your heart and soul use to be. Now imagine swimming through that hate,
breathing it in, living off plants and animals that have been nourished by it. It‘s everywhere, and there‘s no
escape. The Tarterian Depths of the Red Prison of Carceri… the name does the prison plane no bit of justice.
Bound by words, or deeds, or chains of iron, or even by ones very nature, it traps you at the same time it
opens up the very worst in you. You‘re gonna see just what it opened up in me, and then you‘re gonna wish
you were anywhere but here. And you‘ll be in luck, 'cause I happen to know the prison plane has room for one
more!

Six layers to the plane, six wards of the prison, six brands of sinners to torment. Oh, it‘s got something for
everybody. Each layer holds a string of planets suspended in an infinite void, each orb isolated from the next
by miles of empty space. Some say they stretch on forever, as many planets as layers of the Abyss. If that
we‘re true, you‘d think the plane wouldn‘t be so sodding crowded! Betrayal, deceit, lies, hatred and treachery.
All of these are the nature of the Carceri, and most of the beings that dwell there embody one or all of them.
Yet few can leave, for the plane prevents its inmates from escaping, and even outsiders are hard-pressed to
find a way out. The yelling, the fighting… sometimes the only thing resembling peace is to be found flying
through the gulf between worlds. Then there‘s just the wind and your own demons to keep you company.

Incarceration on Carceri
Incarceration on Carceri is a tricky business. The plane has a reputation as being easy to get into and hard
to get out of with good reason. Portals that lead away from Carceri are rare and very valuable things. If a
victim is sent to Carceri not of their own free will (kidnapped through a portal, planeshifted, or condemned in
some other way) they will find the normal avenues of escape more difficult to obtain. An additional key is
often required to leave the plane: the portal used may not have been opened by the one using it. This
means of course, a trapped victim must convince someone else to open the way for them – and that can be
a costly endevour.

Rules Variant: Incarceration Another theory goes that you must be stronger than the one that put you in
the Prison Plane to leave it. A DM may choose to use this variant to restrict his prisoners instead, by denying
the use of any portal or planeshift spell to the victims until they meet or exceed the character level of their
jailer.

191
Each layer is nestled inside the orbs of the previous layer like
some bizarre shell game, each layer embodying some further
aspect of the plane. I know 'cause I‘ve visited them all, one by
one, in my quest to be free and set things right! For me, it
started on Othrys, the first layer of Carceri, the destination of
corrupt politicians, religious frauds, and other traitors to their
people. My home was a planet called Dinor that was much
like any other world on Othrys, the surface covered by insect
choked swamps and quicksand, alternating with barren rocky
planes and steep ranges of mountains. But Dinor, well… I
knew the distinct pleasure of being trapped within an iron
tower that stretched from the swamp bottom hundreds of feet
into the air, yet that was so packed as to make it impossible
to move anywhere without walking on top of someone else.
The exits were guarded by nightmarish skeletons that saw
through all deceptions, and who refused to free their captives
even when the swamp waters rose to drown the unfortunate
bashers on the lower levels. I guess that was their population
control!

You can‘t imagine what it‘s like to wake in such a place,

imprisoned by phantom guards immune to all bribes and
appeals, with no memories of your previous life but the name
of the blood who put you there ringing in your head. But I figured out a way out! It took me forty years, but I
got as far away from that wasteland as the River Styx would take me. It‘s channels wind throughout Othyrs to
other orbs with their own unique cages or to blasted worlds that serve only as battlegrounds and marshalling
points for the Blood War. The yugoloth have made the first layer their home and they embody the principles of
Carceri well, their mercenary armies fighting alongside the baatezu or the tanari‘ri, only to double-cross them
at an opportune time. The plane‘s inhabitants know well enough to avoid the fiends as best they can, and by
then I knew where the true powers of the layer were to be found: Mount Othrys, a mammoth fortress locked
between the nearly touching spires of mountains on two adjacent orbs. There the titans, imprisoned millennia
ago by the Hellenic pantheon, rage and brood in exile. Nearly gods themselves, even they are utterly
powerless to change their positions in the Red Prison. Yet they know the dark of Carceri better than anyone
does, and it is in the court of Cronus, greatest of the titans, that I wrested secrets as to how to regain my lost
memories.

From there I journeyed to Carceri‘s second layer, Cathrys, a land filled with scarlet-lit grasslands and
suffocating jungles. The air burns with the sting of acidic fumes and the poisonous forests are a source of
obscured horrors that lurk beneath the verdant canopy. The layer is occupied by all manner of leatherheads
who in life abandoned reason and humanity for bestial instincts, and now live as savage barbarians more wild
and crude than most animals. Hill giants, fiends, and other horrid creatures roam many of Cathrys‘ orbs, but
the world I visited was claimed by a horrid people who had learned to draw psionic power from their feral
egos. They‘re considered the ―wise‖ of the layer, and I lost half my arm in exchange for learning from them
how to move deeper into the plane.

Minethys is a vast desert waste, devoid of resources and cut with windblown sandstorms to strip the flesh
from ones bones. The layer is what remains when all is consumed and nothing is made, a fitting home for
petitioners who were greedy bastards in life, hoarding everything they could even when they would‘ve been
better served to share. This surely seems like justice to you, but they are not alone in their suffering. There are
the Gautiere, an entire race cursed to reside in Minethys for some betrayal long forgotten. Watch their children
live and die in the biting winds, and then dare think of justice!

Now Colothys is something quite different, a ragged, harsh land of jagged peaks, boulder-strewn valleys, and
hidden vales. Those that reside there lie and cheat for its own sake, and many could bob a baatezu and give
'em the laugh without a hitch. They are hardly alone, though, for the 'loths and some other native fiendish race
are often fighting it out there, while the Revolutionary League is making a lot of noise about busting free those
trapped in Colothys and “making a hole in Carceri‘s chain” so as unlock the Red Prison itself. Whether utter
screed or the genuine article, you‘ll be proud to know that the Anarchists were mighty keen on aiding my quest
when I mentioned your name, not that I‘m surprised word of your crimes has earned you enemies so far away.

192
 They gave me what I needed to make my way through
Porphatys, the small orbs of which are partially
submerged in a shallow, acidic sea of icy slush. The
petitioners were condemned there for their vanity and
self-centered apathy towards the troubles of others even
when it was well within their means to help. Not that their
punishment has taught them a thing. They mostly crowd
around the cold and burning waters, hoping to feed off
the remains of those that fall in and drown. In the end,
the waters claim all, except perhaps for the lone, bone
white Ship of One Hundred that crosses the layer without
crew, carrying some deathly cargo, never to go to port, a
prisoner like all others. Not foolish enough to step upon
it‘s deck, I nevertheless followed the great vessel for
weeks as it sailed across Porphatys, until it finally led me
to my destination: the Midnight Garden, where frost-
covered trees grow fruits that can restore lost memories,
even those of a petitioner, if a costly sacrifice is made to
the garden‘s matron.

Yes, I know everything that transpired before you cast

me into hell. I remember the plan that was to make us
kings of that backwater prime world, just as I never
forget the pain of your treachery. That is why I have no hesitation now in sending you to Agathys, sixth and
deepest layer of Carceri, a frozen cage of false friends and betrayers of confidence. Yes, I descended into that
nightmarish realm, but I will not speak further of it, or how I eventually won my freedom from the Red Prison.
Suffice it to say that your actions that have led us here today, and that I wholly believe that you will fit in nicely
with the backstabbers and turncoats that anguish in Agathys. This is not justice, nor will be the eternities of
torment you will soon come to know. This is a gift in thanks for making me an instrument of revenge and
hatred so pure as to only be found in Carceri, your new home!

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Carceri is mildly evil. Those

of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Movement: Incarcerated petitioners and characters

on Carcerei are subject to travel restrictions as
described above.

Creatures: Gehreleth, greater titans, hordling, imp,

larva, nightmares, quasits, shadow fiends, yugoloth,
Blood War troops.

193
 The Gray Waste
Hylel

It was wise of you beseech us for the knowledge you seek. The guardinals have spent many centuries
attempting to understand and even reconcile the existence of a plane that is opposed to everything we live for.
The Gray Waste is the lowest of the Lower Planes and the blackest pit of despair in the entire Great Ring, the
very embodiment of true evil in the multiverse. And yet, it is neither as vicious as the Infinite Abyss nor as
nefarious as the Nine Hells. So what is true evil? Is it mindless hate and violence, an utter lack of restraint or
conscience? Is it the devious cunning of someone that sees others as tools to their own ends? Or perhaps it is
simply selfishness, a willingness to benefit at the expense of others. No… true evil is despair. It is the belief
that nothing matters, in this life or the next; neither laws nor rights, neither life nor death. Just as darkness is
born in the absence of light, evil is born in the death of good, in the loss of hope and prosperity. When there is
no hope for a better existence,
when one believes that their
actions have no effect or
meaning, then all incentive for
kindness and cooperation
fades away. In that emptiness,
there is no need for ambition
or sadism as motivation, evil is
done for the sake of evil alone,
because it appears to be all
there is and ever will be.

The Gray Waste embodies the

essence and concept of pure
evil, unsullied and undiluted by
the essences of law or chaos.
It is an indomitable presence,
pervasive and unrelenting; a
palpable force that governs all
that takes place. Inhabitants of
the Waste have a saying: there
is no cause and effect; things
happen because they must.
Events occur not because of
logic or will, not because they
matter, but because of the
agonizing and inexorable
march of fate. Their belief in
the inevitability of evil leads
them to feel no responsibility
for their own horrid actions, to
view their lives and the lives of
others as insignificant and
meaningless. The strong willed
attempt to bring about some
small pleasure or personal
gain from the evil around them,
but most simply surrender,
becoming powerless victims of
the plane.

Each of the Three Glooms

bears its own form despair,
abject misery, emotional
wasting, and an ever-present
crush of pointless and
inevitable agony.

194
There is neither sun nor stars to brighten the sky, and little to mark the passage of one dreadful moment to the
next. The first layer, Oinos, is the eternal, central battlefield of the Blood War, and that is all the reason one
needs to avoid it. The ash-colored, largely featureless plane is decorated mostly by the carnage that lingers in
the aftermath of the meetings between armies of baatezu and hordes of tanar‘ri, for their slaughter knows no
bounds and no end. Mortal mercenaries in the Blood War often find themselves hurled into hopeless battles
as chattel rather than valued soldiers, promises of power and wealth revealed to be nothing but hollow words
regardless of which side they were pledged. Almost as horrendous as the wars that ravage the layer are the
diseases that fester in the corpses left behind, plagues of no equal that scour the surface like nearly sentient
things. The swiftly flowing and often bloodstained waters of the River Styx meander across Oinos, while the
infamous marraenoloths patrol its length and provide transport for those who can pay their price. It is typically
the fastest and safest way to cross the layer and reach the bordering planes of Gehenna and Carceri, but a
drop of the Styx is a sure way to lose ones memory and life. It is but another testament to the senseless loss
that Oinos embodies.

Rising high above layer, perched upon the brow of the Lower Planes, is the Wasting Tower of Khin-Oin.
Stretching some twenty miles high and an unknown number of miles below, the stone tower is said to be the
spinal column of a god slain by the yugoloths ages ago. Khin-Oin is the base of their power on Oinos, and
from its apex the greater yugoloth vie for position while carefully watching the battles that rage below. The
bowels of the tower are the heart of evil, possibly the strongest concentration of it within all existence, and
perhaps the birthplace of the yugoloth race itself. While a great number of fiendish races can be found on the
Gray Waste, the yugoloths are the true exemplar of the plane. While it would appear the bulk of their race has
moved to the neighboring furnaces of Gehenna, even in absentia the machinations of the yugoloths run deep.
Make no assumptions that what they lack in apparent numbers belittles their power across the Three Glooms;
the yugoloth spawn directly from the essence of the Waste, and even if one does not see them flooding
across the plane as often as the armies of the baatezu and tanar‘ri, it is their plane, and they are its children.

Diseases of Oinos
There are many diseases that
may be found on the Gray
Wastes, the metaphorical origin
of disease itself. It is rare for
travelers on the plane to avoid
contracting any disease at all, but
particular ones are more common
to the plane than others.
Travelers may be commonly
exposed to malaria, flu, numerous
poxes, cholera, tuberculosis,
typhoid fever or anything else the
DM may wish to inflect upon the
characters.

The Grays: This is a disease of

the spirit more than one of the
mind. Spell resistance of at least
a 10 will protect against the
grays, otherwise a Will save of a
DC 13 must be made every 24
hours spent on the Waste. Failing
this save causes 1 temporary
Wisdom damage, down to an
eventual minimum of 1 Wisdom
after prolonged exposure. The
lost Wisdom does not return until
the victim leaves the Waste. This
disease is characterized by
apathy and despair, and may be
physically detected as color is
leeched from the victim.

195
Considering the many hazards upon the first layer, many planewalkers use Yggdrasil, the World Ash, and
travel directly to the second layer of the Waste, Niflheim. Named for the realm of Hel, the Norse goddess of
death, Niflheim is heavily forested and perpetually shrouded in a thick billowing fog that limits vision and
dampens both body and spirit. It is all too easy to become lost in the gray woods, and terrible beasts haunt the
wilderness, including wolves, trolls, and flocks of wastrels whose melancholy calls drain a blood of their will to
live. The layer holds danger, but more haunting and claustrophobic threats than the wars and diseases of
Oinos. Even in the middle of such gloom there are still spots of respite to be found, however. The town known
as Death of Innocence sits perched among the mist-cloaked pines of the layer. While the origin of the burg
remains a mystery, it provides rare shelter and a friendlier atmosphere than elsewhere in the Waste. The
draining effect of the Gray Waste doesn‘t touch those within the city, though the pressures of the neighboring
powers is its own source of misery. Because the Blood War so rarely comes to Niflheim, a number of powers
hold their domains there as well, such as Mask and Shar of the Faerunian pantheon, Ratri, the Indian Queen
of Darkness, and Annwn, the Celtic god of death. Many of their realms offer some protection for those who
find them, though each has its own morbid take on life that rarely leaves visitors unscathed.

Pluton, third layer of the Waste, is a blighted land of withered trees and solitary olive groves. The land is
almost peaceful compared to the previous layers, but it is the sad calm of resignation. A feeling of inexorable
doom hangs in the air, as if everything on the layer is aware of its own mortality. The lowest fringes of Mount
Olympus, home of the Greek pantheon, connect to the edge of the Underworld, domain of Hades, which
sprawls across Pluton and is perhaps the single most known landmark all of the Gray Waste. Many other
powers reside there as well, including Hecate, Greek goddess of magic and dark portents, and Cegilune, who
demands the worship of the night hags. The Gray Sisters are easily the most numerous of fiends on Pluton
and can often be found wandering the layer on foot or upon nightmare steeds, herding larvae collected from
throughout the plane. The crones hold a monopoly upon the trade of evil souls across the Lower Planes, and
woe to any who would seek to change this. Mortals sometimes come to the layer seeking the lost souls of
their dead loved ones, be they wrongly condemned to Hades‘ domain or killed and sold as part of the fiendish
currency of soulgems in exchange for larvae. Most just end up a part of the night hags‘ collections.

Sigh… nothing I‘ve said truly captures the bleakness of the plane. The gloom touches every aspect of life,
draining things of pigmentation and vibrancy until they are dull and gray, robbing people of their hopes and
dreams until they can see no point in leaving the plane or doing much anything else. The petitioners are the
greatest victims of this draining. Overwhelmed by years of apathy and sadness, many of them are so depleted
by the plane as to become pale wraiths without substance. Most of them were selfish and malicious in life,
and now that evil has devoured their souls and left them hollow shells. They instinctively flock to any signs of
life or emotion, desperate to feel the slightest trace of the hope all living things possess. These miserable
shadows can provide little help for themselves, let alone others.

Places free of the draining are few and far between, with Death of Innocence being one such haven in
addition to some of the divine realms situated across the Three Glooms. Perhaps the most frequented is the
City at the Center, a unique location where all three layers of the Waste meet. It is a three-part city, built upon
the spot that borders and connects each part of the plane. Center holds itself as a trader‘s city, and a place of
refuge from the Blood War, the diseases of Oinos, and the soul sucking embrace of the Waste. Entrance is
free and without tax, and exit is likewise without restriction. For all of the wealth that could be garnered from
transit between the layers, it is odd that the lord of the town, a tiefling named Dandy Will, allows it to happen
for no change. Yugoloth have been seen coming and go from his palace, however, so like many things in the
Gray Waste, the City at the Center likely bears a cost, but one that is paid unasked.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: The Gray Waste is strongly evil. Those not of this alignment are at a -2 to Cha, Int,
Wis checks.

Movement: The Gray Waste is entrapping. Visitors to this plane must make a Will save for every week
spent on the plane, at a DC 10 + 1 per consecutive week on the plane. Failure on this save results in
becoming trapped on the plane as a petitioner, unable or unwilling to leave.

Creatures: Yugoloth, night hags, nightmares, hordlings, larva, Blood War troops.

196
 Gehenna
Jerini ap Nuatha

The Bleak Eternity of Gehenna, the Fourfold Furnace of Perdition, the bastion of the yugoloths. None of these
names can fully encompass the reality of the plane. Gehenna embodies the concepts of greed, control, and
self-serving evil tinged with enough law to create a hierarchy in which will is all that matters. That is, the will of
the strong, for all others must follow or be ground to dust under the machinations and power struggles that
consume those of true ambition. Yet even they are fooled, deceived by their own delusions of free will. Of all
the planes, Gehenna is one of the least desirable destinations for a petitioner, for here amid the four mounts
there is no chance of rising to become a fiend and gaining a taste of real power. Here there is no such hope,
no hope at all, for even the most driven and capable of petitioners are at best simple resources for the
yugoloths. True there are opportunities, albeit small ones, to rise to prominence as a tool of the 'loths, but
there is forever an upper limit to how far one can climb, and so very far for one to fall.

Are you not lucky then, my nameless friend, that with your skin as my parchment, your life shall come to some
better use? No, do not waste your energy trying to speak. There is no need to thank me.

Gehenna exists as perhaps the smallest Outer Plane of the Great Wheel. Its four layers are each a great fiery
mountain only a few hundred thousands miles across, though suspended in a truly infinite and starless void.
Each mount has its own characteristics, its own persona, but each is without pity or kindness, refusing even to
grant level ground upon which to stand. There is not one foot of flat surface anywhere upon the plane, save in
one of the few domains where a power exists to bend the plane or where the yugoloths have carved out areas
for their own citadels. Oh, if one can avoid falling, rockslides, and streams of lava then Gehenna might seem
pleasant compared to some of the more vicious Lower Planes. But that, like everything here, is exactly how
we wish it to seem.

197
The yugoloths are the true power within Gehenna. We first began forging the plane from nothingness in the
early days of Creation, with it becoming fit for the mass of the yugoloth race to migrate to only a few eons ago.
We have held a stranglehold upon it since that time, controlling transit across the plane by the River Styx, as
well as the few passable routes overland. It is fair to say that the yugoloths directly mirror the ideals of
Gehenna: the strong control the weak, power is everything, and everything is admissible in that rise to power.
One makes their own truth, while laws and rules are followed only as long as they remain useful. Likewise, the
'loths of Gehenna will tolerate a blood only as long as they can be made a tool or have power enough of their
own to garner a grudging respect. Naturally, bargains are held to the letter of the law only as long as the
agreement suits the fiend in question, but provided their convenience in holding to it, any agreement can be
made.

The petitioners of Gehenna are rarely in a position to offer anything of value to the yugoloth, and thus live
lives of constant misery and torment, making a meager yet defiant existence for themselves while ever fearful
of native monsters, the progress of the Blood War, the sloping land, and the alternating fiery, frigid, or acidic
environment they dwell on. They are spiteful and eternally selfish, mirroring the sentiments of the plane and its
masters. The petitioners cling to the idea of free will and its expression, even if they no longer have any, even
if their fate here within the Furnace of Perdition makes the concept a mockery. They are the evil that will do
anything, betray anyone, and pay any cost in order to further their own ends. Never mind that the same
ambition which keeps them
standing ensures they are
ever alone and weak, never
mind that it is their
selfishness that leads them
to turn upon one another,
without fail. They can only
be bargained with when
given a deal they cannot
refuse, and even then,
simply out of disgust of the
outsider who, unlike them,
is capable of trusting
another soul, they‘ll
sometimes betray them
anyways.

Do you writhe now at the

declaration of your doom?
Rejoice, for your life will
serve some purpose. Upon
your flesh a testament is
being written to the nature
of the Fourfold Furnace and
the fate of those who live
here, a warning to all
outsiders that come thinking
to find fortune and power in
hell. Is it more difficult to
accept with all your
memories taken from you? I
assure you, your life was no
better before I found you
floundering in Styx. Yet the
more you move now, the
slower I must dig my blade
and the less your skin shall
serve as worthy parchment
for my words.

198
Khalas, the first mountain layer of Gehenna, is crisscrossed by steep valleys, sporadic pits, and more
frequently than not by raging battles of the Blood War. It exists as a great mountain of black obsidian and
basalt, casting a crimson glow out into the ebon void, shadows stretching upwards from the dim flaming light.
Tributaries of the River Styx reach the layer and steaming, boiling waterfalls fall from the slopes, mixing with
the flaming rivers of magma that cross the surface and fill the air with a mixture of burning ash and boiling
wind. Sitting upon the quickly plunging and cascading rush of the Styx lies the Teardrop Palace, seat of power
and domain of Sung Chiang, the Chinese Pantheon‘s Lord of Thieves. The god‘s avatars are more willing than
most to sit down and deal with visitors, but everything about the realm makes it clear how little one matters in
the eyes of Sung Chiang. Khalas also connects to the gate-town of Torch in the Outlands. However, with the
gate suspended in midair arrivals are bound to make their entrance by tumbling hundreds of feet down the
mountainside and off into the void. Members of the Fraternity of Order determined to get a foothold in
Gehenna have of late made efforts to maintain an outpost next to the gate, but unless you‘re explicitly
welcomed and expected by the faction they‘re unlikely to lend a hand in aid.

Chamada, the second furnace of Gehenna, is perhaps the most dangerous, with its perpetually burning
slopes covered in vast rivers of magma and dotted with spontaneous, explosive eruptions. The air is filled with
a near constant rain of soft gray ash, blown in intervals of near storm-like intensity and periods of almost
gentle ash fall. The burning slopes of the second mount are home to the Tower of the Arcanaloths, citadel of
the planners, wizards, and contract binders of their race, a blot of utter evil even within the plane itself. The
massive, mile wide and tall tower, decorated in bladed spires and etched in glowing runes holds the records of
the yugoloth race and their own meticulous records of the course of the Blood War. Every contract and every
betrayal is recorded here in perfect detail within untold miles of titanic carved vaults where petitioners lie
strung and branded like books and parchments upon hooks and lines farther than the eyes can see, knowing
only their pain and the details branded into their flesh.

Mungoth, the third furnace of perdition floats within the void in contrast to the first two layers and a harbinger
of the fourth. While the Khalas and Chamada are covered in flame and burning rivers of magma, Mungoth is a
dying volcanic mount, its slopes covered in ice and snow, broken only by the occasional minor eruption and a
brief river of lava. The air, while peppered with ash, is more typically whipped through with blizzards and rains
of acidic snow strong enough to strip the flesh from the unprepared. The petitioners of the layer are
understandably hostile in their pain and discomfort, especially given that the layer is also home to Loviatar, the
Finnish and Faerunian goddess of pain and torture. A rare spot of shelter from the layer‘s weather can be
found in the Valley of the Outcast, an isolated chasm jutting deep into the basalt and ruled by a fire giant
wizardress named Tastuo. She lives in constant fear of her enemies, but she is willing to provide shelter as
long as visitors might wish so long as they threaten no harm. If you are not wise enough to question the
reasons for such generosity, however, it‘s doubtful you‘ll live long enough to set eyes upon her haven.

Krangath, the fourth furnace of perdition is a furnace in name only. In truth, the mount died untold millennia
ago. A dead volcanic cone, its heat lost to the leeching of the void, leaving it a frozen husk, Krangath is
abandoned by most of the planes residents. Even the yugoloths are less frequent here, though ever watchful
of the layers residents, which include one of the powers of the orcish pantheon and Melif the Lich Lord, a
powerful arch-Lich and, as some would suggest, an actual power. Little here is of interest to outsiders, unless
they seek to visit in worship to the orcish powers of the layer, or to avail themselves of the necromantic
magics of the tomb city of Hopelorn, demesne of Melif. Melif is paranoid and perhaps insane in undeath,
fearful of the wrath of the yugoloth, against which his own power would be meaningless. Visitors, regardless
of their power or intent, would do well to remain respectful, if the Lichlord doesn‘t simply kill them first.

Is there more to Gehenna? Yes, there certainly is. But let these words discourage planewalkers from seeking
adventure in our little plane. Some may question the trustworthiness of my account, as well they should. No
matter. Most will be wise enough to take their travels ever elsewhere, while the foolish will provide a ready
supply of tools, slaves, and of course, more parchment.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Gehenna is mildly evil. Those of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Creatures: Yugoloth, Blood War troops.

199
 Baator
Arishdacq Serpent’segg

You‘re here, good. Any shadows? Al‘ight, scan this, cutter. You, me, the others, we‘re going to make our way
down the Nine Hells, all the way to the lowest pit of Baator. I ain‘t barmy, just listen! You and me, when we‘re
deaders we‘re ending up in Baator for sure, and we‘ve got nothing but an eternity of torment to look forward
to. But before we‘re done, we‘re going to plumb the depths of the Nine Hells for the biggest prize of them all.
You‘ve heard of it in hushed whispers, but here‘s the dark of it. Those that make the trip, from top to bottom,
well bloods like that are prized by the fiends and made into greater baatezu right then and there. So it‘s up to
you; you want to count down the days until you‘re reborn as some mindless larvae, or you want to make such
a name for yourself that even the Lords of the Nine take note? It won‘t be easy, I won‘t lie, but nothing worth it
is, right?

Some of this you already know, but I‘m gonna drill it in just to be sure. Imagine the plane like a mountain, but
inverted, each pit smaller than the one above, yet the deeper you go the more of the plane you can see. Layer
to layer, the path gets harder, and it don‘t start easy to begin with. In Baator, the virtues of temperance and
fortitude feed centuries-old feuds of vengeance, feelings of friendship and kindness fester into the ultimate
malice, and order itself is perverted into a weapon to be used against others. The plane tempers one‘s soul by
forces subtle yet pervasive; the dangers are less blatantly vicious than in the Abyss, the inhabitants more
interested in using you for their own designs than mindlessly killing you. Any rule that can be exploited is,
while to trespass against the system means being crushed under its weight. Thus, it can be a fine place for
evil bashers like us to get ahead, provided you can survive the machinations of those around you.

There‘s a few ways into Baator: portals in Sigil, the River Styx, and the gate-town Ribcage. We‘ll be going to
Ribcage to get a guide. I‘ve been to Baator many times, but I know better than to think we can get by without
one. Not only will the guide show us around, but they‘re also helpful with the natives. It‘s better to do things
nice and legal; get a writ of passage from one of the Lords of the Nine. Guides can help negotiate that.
Sneaking in‘s possible, but without one of those writs, you‘re fair game. We‘ll come in as merchants looking to
expand into the Blood War trade. All this usually takes hard bargaining, both to get in and out. But that‘s the
thing: the baatezu can be dealt with, unlike their demonic enemies. Just keep your eye on loopholes; just
‘cause they‘re lawful don‘t mean they won‘t cheat.

Okay, so we‘re going to meet all sorts of interesting people. Though there are a couple different races of
devils, the most numerous are the baatezu. They‘re ordered in a strict hierarchy, the low serving the high. The
leatherheaded lower-ranks may be weaker, but are more dangerous, since they have less self-control. Those
with their brain-boxes strapped on right get promoted, then get to torture and rule their lessers. The Dark
Eight, pit fiend generals of the Blood War are about as high up as they can aspire to, but far above them are
the rulers of the layers, the Lords of the Nine. Was a time that many Lords were unknown, even the Lord of
the Ninth. There‘s names for all of them now (though maybe not the right names). Hundreds of treaties have
been written about their laws and customs, many by the baatezu themselves. You‘d be wise to read some of
them; study it long enough, and you might be able to pick out the utter screed from the stuff that has bits of
truth to it.

There‘s petitioners in Baator, like every other Outer Plane. Most of ‘em are larvae or lemures, the lowest of the
low, subject to the tortures of those above them. They can‘t be killed, of course, so they‘ll endure great
suffering for eons, until they‘re considered worthy of advancing. Bar that, I don‘t fancy being flayed until I earn
my next step. No, I‘m going to leapfrog the ranks while I‘m still alive and give the lesser baatezu the laugh.

We‘ll also run into visitors like ourselves, especially in the cities. Merchants do business in the Hells, just like
anywhere else, and mercenaries can find all manner of work. Adventurers go there often enough as well,
usually on a specific quest – looking for an artifact, rescuing someone, and sometimes they just want to see
how many devils they can kill. That‘s usually a short game, but fun to watch. Then there‘s those who‘ve made
their home in Baator, so as not to be bothered. They usually have enough power to keep the baatezu at bay.
Some of these hermits choose to live on the Hells because of their own peculiar studies, or because they‘re
hiding out from cutters who won‘t look for them there. Not all of them are evil, and some of them can be
mighty useful, if you show the proper respect.

200
All right, so we‘re going to start from the top. There‘s shortcuts to get into some of the lower layers, but we
need to do this right. First is Avernus the Blasted, a land of twisted earth and bloody rivers that flow into the
Styx. We‘ll want to hurry; besides the legions led by Bel, the pit fiend Lord of the First, and tanar‘ri invaders,
there‘s the exploding spheres of flame that continuously shoot across the sky. No cities here, but there‘s some
fortresses we can take shelter at. There‘s also Darkspine, which was a gate-town that got sucked up. The
berks who live there are cutthroats, at least with each other, but they tend to be hospitable to visitors. We can
get supplies there, but ask the merchants for warranties on their goods. We‘ll also stop at the Pillar of Skulls.
It‘s got so many heads, some of ‘em‘s bound to have answers we‘ll need. They tend to bicker, though, and
they all have their own bargains to make.

The portal to the second layer is at the back of the Cave of Greed, guarded by the dragon queen Tiamat and
her consorts. Just be brave and polite, and they‘ll be willing to deal. That‘ll take us outside Dis, the Iron City,
which gives the second layer its name. Its iron spires point accusing fingers at the ash-green sky, and its
burning hot iron streets stretch as far as can be imagined. The city is forever expanding from the labors of the
petitioner slaves, and it can be damn hard to tell where the burg ends and the rest of the plane begins. Still,

201
it‘s welcoming enough to visitors, at least in the Foreign Quarter. More importantly, some of the petitioners
here are actually shades with fragments of their memories intact. The secrets of the dead can be plenty useful
to the living, which is one of the reasons I suspect folk come here. We‘ll do some trading for goods and chant,
then head to the third pit.

Minauros the Stinking Mire is a bog drenched in polluted rain, oily sleet, and razor-sharp hail. The main city
is Minauros the Sinking, made from the black volcanic stone of the area. The slaves keep shoring it up, but
the stone‘s getting scarcer. It‘ll be a few millennia before it sinks completely, but it keeps the inhabitants in a
sour mood. There are a few other realms, such as Jangling Hiter, City of Chains and home of the kytons, as
well as a couple communities of slaves who‘ve actually escaped their shackles. I know just such a group who
are willing to show us paths to the next layer in exchange for weapons and supplies.

Phlegethos of the Flame, the fourth layer if you‘ve been keeping track, is a hellish land of volcanoes and
liquid fire. Chant goes the flames actually moves to some dark design, either seeking out those who don‘t
belong, burning away the good in a berk‘s heart, or some such. Supposedly, the only city of the layer is
Abriymoch, built in a mostly extinct volcano‘s caldera. Look out for a sign saying simply ―Greth. ‖ That marks
the site of a hidden magic shop, where we should be able to get some real sweet deals, right under the devils‘
noses.

Then it‘s Stygia, the Great Sea. The Styx‘s headwaters are said to be here, worming its way through the
frozen sea. I‘m told there are a number of cities built upon the ice floes, but things stranger than the baatezu
dwell beneath the water. With any luck, we‘ll find a path to the next layer in short order. If all else fails, out in
the trackless wastes is the Oracle of the Hungry Ice. Feed it a piece of yourself and ask your question. The
more important your need, the greater the cost in body parts. Hopefully we shan‘t have cause to use such a
grisly device, but be prepared.

Information on the lower reaches of the plane is hard to come by, so we‘re gonna have to play it by ear.
Malbolge the Crushing is a tilted land showered eternally by boulders rolling down its surface under a sky of
red steam. We‘ll look for hints of the tunnels that are said to twist beneath the debris, though something lives
down there, older than the baatezu. After that is Malodomini the Ruined. The Lord of the Seventh is never
satisfied and commands his servants to build new cities on the shattered remains of the old. Grenpoli, the
domed City of Diplomacy, is often spoken of by the baatezu, for the place epitomizes their love of politics and
deceit. Don‘t trust the smiles you‘ll be greeted with; get what you need, then give ‘em the laugh before
heading to Cania the Glacier. Colder and meaner than the fifth layer, we‘ll need to come up with a way to
bore deep into the ice. See, there‘s things buried there. The Guvners have done it before; so can we. Those
sods came back trembling pale, murmuring stories of celestials and fiends frozen in eternal combat with
strange, spined beings and of alien cities. The secrets of the ancients are down there, I say, and I mean to
have them.

One way or another that should take us to Nessus, the ninth layer, land of opposites. The hottest flames, the
coldest ice, the deepest pits, the steepest cliffs. The most revealing lies. Making our way where few mortals
ever have, we will solve the ultimate riddle. Every level we travel, our knowledge of evil grows, until we reach
the final depth. From there, we can see back to all that came before. All of it. And then we will be granted
power beyond our small imaginings. We will seize the birthright of the hellish blood that flows in our veins and
take our rightful place in the Nine Hells.

Planar Traits

Elemental-dominant: Specific layers are elementally dominant. Phlegethos is Fire dominant. The open
flames deal 3d10 points of fire damage per round of exposure. Water creatures take double damage. Stygia
is Cold dominant. All creatures and objects take 3d10 points of cold damage per round. Creatures of the fire
subtype take double damage each round.

Alignment-dominant: Baator is mildly evil and mildly lawful. Those of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha
checks. These affects stack for multiple alignments.

Impeded magic: Planeshift, gate and other transportational magic or psionics targeting any location on the
layer of Nessus fail to function.

Creatures: Baatezu, hellcat, hell hounds, hordling, imp, larva, sympathetic.

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 Acheron
Maharaja Harajji Atharta

Of course I can tell you about Acheron. I am one of the masters of the plane, after all. Oh, I know, few
recognize us as such. The rakshasa, they think, are just another race that happens to inhabit the Infernal
Battlefield. They don't know how much influence we secretly have. Why am I telling you this, if it is such a
secret? Well, I could tell when you came in, from the way you looked at me, that you expected such a thing. In
fact, had I not said something of that sort, you would have become more suspicious. Am I wrong? So am I
really revealing secrets, or is it just idle boasting? I will leave you to wonder.

You will try one of these pickled abrian tongues, won't you? They're quite delicious.

So. I have often heard Acheron called a plane of war; many planewalkers think of it as nothing but a site of
endless battles. But that confuses
the part with the whole. The lower
layers of Acheron are no more
warlike than anywhere else in the
Great Ring—certainly much less so
than the Blood War battlefields. The
first layer, though, Avalas… well,
yes, indeed there are wars going on.
Endless wars. Between the spirits of
dead prime creatures called orcs
and goblinoids, mostly, though there
are other, independent armies. The
legion of Boretti, the Necromancer-
King, for one. The company of the
bladeling House of Reddirk, for
another. Still, putting such things
aside, Acheron is first and foremost
a land of order and discipline. It just
happens that the law tends to come
off a tad draconian to some. A former
Guvner friend of mine once said that
Acheron is where law forsakes
reason and anticipation gives way to
the presumption of inadequacy. I
assure you, however, that the
residents appreciate the exacting
demands of their superiors.
Whatever cruelty or evil exists is but
a tool towards strengthening society
as a whole. There is Resounding
Thunder, for example, the realm of
the Chinese god of thunder, a place
not of slaughter but of justice and
retribution. On one cube,
Wreychtmirk, where the River Styx
flows on all six faces—

Oh. Cube. Yes, I get ahead of

myself. Perhaps before I talk too
much about the inhabitants of the
layers I should say something about
their layouts. All layers of Acheron
consist of grey shapes, floating
endlessly through a dimly-lit void.
But the natures of the shapes differ.

203
Avalas is filled with floating cubes, sometimes bumping against each other and crushing whatever is too slow
or foolish to get out of the way. It is not difficult to get between the cubes, for those who know the way; there
are many portals linking the cubes together, and while there may be no direct route connecting a given pair of
cubes there is sure to be some way to get between them through other cubes, at least.

Thuldanin, the second layer, is much the same, except that the cubes are hollow. Oh, there are certainly
tunnels and hollows in the cubes of Avalas, but in Thuldanin all the cubes are hollow, and their surfaces
riddled with pits that lead inside. Indeed, it is the insides of the cubes that most visitors see—what few visitors
the layer gets, for though few planewalkers visit Avalas, even fewer visit Thuldanin, and the layers below
fewer still. Yet there is reason to come to Thuldanin, for the cubes, though hollow, are not empty. They are
filled with all manner of devices both mechanical and magical. No one knows where they come from—or
perhaps I should say rather, those who do know do not tell. I suspect they are from wars elsewhere in the
multiverse, devices deemed too dangerous or unconventional, and eventually forgotten or destroyed.
However they come to be there, these objects are hardly in pristine condition; there is a curse upon the layer
that turns all these items—and anything else left here too long—to an iron-like stone. Yet still there are things
worth salvaging that attract inventors, wizards, fiends, and even modrons. Indeed, in one particular large
cube, the Mines of Marsellin, the Sodkillers and others carry out great mining operations at considerable risk,
for there creatures as well as items are vulnerable to the layer's strange form of petrifaction.

My apologies, I have digressed again. I was discussing the plane‘s strange terrain. The third layer, Tintibulus,
bears not just cubes but blocks of many shapes. Some have four sides, some six, some eight, some twelve or
twenty. And in the last layer, Ocanthus, rather than solid blocks, the land is in thin plates—razor thin, and
capable of delivering nasty, even fatal, cuts to the unwary. These plates are not made of iron like the cubes of
the layers above, but of black ice broken from a vast sheet that fills the bottom of the plane. Some say that
this is the end of the Styx, though they disagree as to which end, the source or the outlet. The chant goes all
the memories lost to the Styx are trapped within the ice, and retrievable by those who know how to do it.

What? You ask me whether these rumors are true? Ah…let us not taint a good story with worries about truth.
For now, I think it is better they remain a mystery.

You have not tried the jellied saasin? Do. They are sublime.

So. The first layer, Avalas, the Battleplains, is the one I had started to speak of. I have already told you of the
armies that battle there, and that give the place its name. There are many combatants there, but it seems
there will never be any more than there are now. Some principle is at work in Avalas concerning the
conservation of spirits, and ensuring that no new petitioner can enter the layer until an existing one is killed.
As to whether this rule applies to planars as well, there is less agreement, though most think not. But then,
truly, a similar principle applies to other aspects of the plane as well. Cast a spell in Acheron, and a reversed
reflection of the spell also appears, and rushes off through the void…

Your pardon; I digress. While the orc and goblin petitioners, and the other combatants, they are very
noticeable, with their noisy battles, but do not think they are the only residents of the plane, and certainly not
the most important. There are, of course, my own people, the rakshasa. We keep out of the wars, hiding our
homes with strong illusions. We may not be as obvious as certain other races, but do not discount us. Oh,
yes, and the achaierai should perhaps be mentioned. These evil birds have a strange appearance, but are
more intelligent than they look. The Sodkillers—not a race, but a faction—they make their home here, in the
fortress of Vorkehan, that the Mercykillers tenanted before they split in the Faction War. And of course, some
creatures found on the neighboring planes can also be encountered there; baatezu, yugoloth, imps, and other
fiends from the Lower Planes are not uncommon in Acheron. As far as unintelligent wildlife goes, there are
bonespears and fhorges, among others, but what one will see the most is birds—birds of many sorts.

Speaking of birds, have you tried the braised wastrel wing? Please do. I am sure you will find it most
delectable.

The second layer, it is more quiet. Some of the same creatures from Avalas can be found here, but more
rarely. It also bears the realm of some exiled dwarf god, Laduguer, protector of the duergar, or some such. All
manner of equipment can be purchased there, perhaps the finest in all of Acheron, but the duergar are ever in
a sour mood. One must not forget the rust dragons, which are more numerous in Thuldanin, or the modrons,
though not native to Acheron, are increasingly common here. I‘ve heard some whisperings of an army of the
strange things gathering in a remote cube, emptying it out, and constructing some sort of immense apparatus

204
 within, but if so the curse should take care of that soon enough. Other than that…well, there are creatures
that haunt the mines, but the accounts of those differ, and I shall not dwell on them now. Those one
encounters in Thuldanin are usually outsiders looking to salvage some lost treasures among the scrap heaps.

The fourth layer…perhaps its most notable inhabitants are the bladelings. Humanoid creatures with metallic
skin and blades jutting out all over their bodies, living, most of them, in Zoronor, the City of Shadows. The
bladelings do not take kindly to other races. You have met bladelings, yes? You did not find them too
unfriendly? But remember, those you have met are those who have left their homeland; they are the
exceptions to the rule. The bladelings of Zoronor…they do not treat strangers well. You best have a truly good
reason to seek their home, but then really, Ocanthus is dangerous for even blooded planewalkers. Better to
stick to more hospitable grounds, wouldn‘t you agree?

Well, yes, I have skipped Tintibulus, but I have a reason. You see, the third layer…well, most people believe it
to be uninhabited. Naturally, that doesn't mean it is. It simply means they haven't looked hard enough. It hasn't
had many visitors, after all, but then, that's true of Acheron as a whole. Of all the Outer Planes, Acheron is one
of those that has been least visited by planewalkers. Of course, that means it's one that has the most secrets
left to find.

But again I digress. The third layer. Yes. As I was saying, the common wisdom is that it has no native
inhabitants. But the common wisdom, it can often be so…unwise. What? Yes, of course I know whether there
are really any native inhabitants of Tintibulus or not. But, well, do you plan ever to go there? Yes? Perhaps?
Then why should I spoil the surprise?

I insist you try the bloodberry tarts. They are truly delightful.

Petrification and Other Cubic Dangers

On Avalas, the first layer of Acheron, the greatest risk comes from the impact of a cube upon another cube.
The cubes are continent sized pieces of metal that move in orbit amongst each other. They are large enough
to produce their own gravity well. The impact of one cube upon another can cause a great ringing noise, and
extreme harm to those caught between the faces. If a character (or army) is caught unexpectedly between
the faces of two impacting cubes he must make a Reflex save at a DC of 40 to find some divot within the
area, or be instantly smashed into paste. If a character has found a divot (or made one) in which to take
refuge the impact is still a stunning event. He is automatically deafened for 1d4 days, and at the moment of
impact takes 10d6 nonlethal damage from the force of the impact and shuddering of his shelter.

On Thuldanin, the cubes are still in mostly cube form and will impact each other with similar effects as on
Avalas. Thankfully because they are rusted and pitted, it is much easier to find refuge in an emergency and a
Reflex save at a DC of 20 is enough to find a pit in the surface to hide in. Otherwise the effects of impact are
the same. Thuldanin has another property that is much more dangerous to a traveler. It will slowly petrify
organic matter (living and nonliving) that remains on the plane unless it is otherwise protected by magical
means. Petrification becomes a risk after a continuous week has been spent on the plane. After a week, the
object or victim must make a Fortitude save at a DC of 20. On failing the save, the victim becomes subject to
a flesh to stone effect. Thereafter, for continuous each day the DC for this save raises by one. On leaving the
plane and returning, the week is reset.

Tintibulus and Ocanthus are dangerous for the flying shrapnel and occasional large (up to content sizes)
meteors that fly through the layer. These objects are generally hard to see coming in the darkness, and likely
to shred an unprotected body in their way. Unprotected characters take 2d6/rnd of damage from the small
sized shrapnel automatically. Larger objects hurling through the darkness may deal more damage, but are
more rare and should be handled as an encounter by the DM.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Acheron is mildly lawful. Those of opposing alignment are at a -2 to Cha checks.

Movement: Movement on Acheron is complicated by the condition of cubes and debris on each layer as
described above.

Creatures: Baatezu, imps, modron, rakshasa, rust monsters, rust dragons, yugoloth, orcs.

205
 Mechanus
Mwama

Greetings, blood. This unit is called Mwama. It is—no, the name is not in any strange language. The first
adventuring party this unit fell in with after breaking away first just referred to it as ―modron with a missing
arm‖, and when they decided this unit needed a name, they just made an acronym of that. Since this unit had
no other name, it kept it. This unit has called kip here in the Fortress of Disciplined Enlightenment for many
years now, giving travelers information on Mechanus, the Clockwork Universe, in exchange for jink. It has
made study of the plane its specialty, so it can certainly tell its visitors about it, if they are willing to pay its fee.

Mechanus is the plane of ultimate law, all else—including good and evil—is subordinate and unimportant. The
entire plane is composed of interlocking gears of varying sizes, all turning according to a complex pattern
incomprehensible to any mortal or exemplar. All of the major realms and buildings in Mechanus are
constructed on the surface of one of these cogs; many gears possess environment types that are common on
other planes, but there are also mounds of pipes and cables, tracts of crystal obelisks, fields of metal domes,
and other unique terrain features. Each side of a cog has its own gravity, so it is possible for structures to exist
on both sides and to travel from the top to the bottom—though which side is the top and which is the bottom
depends on the side a basher is on. Some communities even create tunnels through a gear in order to reach
the other side, either to allow for expansion or simply to facilitate travel.

Although no one has tumbled to all the laws the gears move by, their precise sequence of operation, or their
ultimate purpose, there are those who have learned enough about them to be able to traverse the complex
system of conduits and portals that links them together. This system is called the Labyrinthine Portal—though
it is not really a single portal, nor a physical labyrinth—and it is extremely difficult for most mortals to wrap
their bone-boxes around. It not only matters which portal one passes through, but also the sequence, the
timing, and sometimes even the thoughts one is thinking at the time. With mastery of the Labyrinthine Portal,
a cutter can quickly reach any cog on the plane. But a less well-lanned sod could find themselves wandering
lost in places they really don‘t want to go. There are guides who will lead a basher through the Labyrinth, but
some of them are cony-catchers who will only get a sod lost faster than he would on his own.

206
Please note that although Mechanus represents order, that does not mean it is uniform, for there are many
diverse cultures and places of interest throughout the plane. In fact, almost anything that one imagines can be
found on the plane if one knows where to look. Some cutters journey to Mechanus specifically to seek
something that they have conceived of but have been unable to locate elsewhere; though the realization of
this goal may not exactly match what was expected, success rates are statistically high. Unfortunately, the
reasons for this have received extensive debate without attainment of a conclusive explanation. This unit
theorizes that it represents the Axiom that all things have a purpose and place. A truly comprehensive system
of order must accommodate, and perhaps allow, every possibility. If desired, this unit can direct you to other
Guvners that specialize in this feature of Mechanus.

Those who mistakenly believe that pure law is sterile and lifeless are proven wrong by the fact that Mechanus
is constantly evolving and is full of living creatures. There are, for example, the moignos, two-dimensional
mathematical equations obsessed with the intricacies of the number pi. And the paraii, beings that, behind
their porcelain masks, may be nothing more than balls of light that feign humanoid form with an empty black
dresses, and that are devoted to turning bloods of exceptional qualities into paraii like themselves. The
inevitables, too, make their home on Mechanus, powerful mechanical constructs that strictly enforce principles
of death, truth, and justice.

But this unit calculates that there are three groups on Mechanus that particularly deserve mention. First, of
course, there are the modrons, like this unit. The modrons exemplify law like no other creatures. They are
organized into a strict hierarchy led by Primus, the One and the Prime, and comprising many other levels,
down to the lowly monodrones. The modrons work as a functioning whole; each modron is aware of those of
the ranks immediately above and below it, but are unable to directly perceive modrons of other ranks. If a
modron is slain, a modron of the rank below is promoted to fill its position, and so forth on down, until a new
monodrone is created from Primus‘s energy pool. All the modrons work in perfect unity, tending to the
maintenance of Mechanus‘ gears.

At least, things usually work that way. Every once in a while, however, some modron obtains a spark of
individuality and becomes aware of itself as a separate entity. These modrons are known as rogues, and are
hunted down and destroyed in order to prevent them from corrupting the whole society. Some escape, though
it is not be easy—this unit lost its arm in its own escape from the modron hierarchy. The chant is a new
system has been put in place to allow the peaceful exodus of such deviants, but that cannot be easily
confirmed and may be so much screed.
Regardless, even rogues cannot completely free
themselves of the modron mindset. This unit, for
example, has managed to learn what is called
planar cant—though it has been told that it uses
cant words somewhat awkwardly and unnaturally—
but does not feel right using certain pronouns. It
understands, intellectually, what is meant by words
like ―I‖ and ―you‖, but the underlying concepts
are too alien to its thought for it to feel comfortable
using such words itself.

Another important group of Mechanus is the

Fraternity of Order, the faction of which this unit is a
member. Of course the visitors know of the
Fraternity of Order, since they are currently visiting
this unit within the faction‘s headquarters. This
faction is devoted to discovering all the hidden laws
underlying the multiverse, the links of cause and
effect by which everything works—so, of course,
what better place to do that than Mechanus, the
plane of pure law? The Guvners have greatly
expanded their numbers in Mechanus and its
neighboring planes since banishment from Sigil,
and members can be found here in the Fortress of
Disciplined Enlightenment or beyond exploring all
facets of reality.

207
Last, there are the formians, originally from Arcadia, but who have recently overtaken much of the plane. This
unit understands that the formians were originally peaceful, but those that have spread to Mechanus and
elsewhere are set only on expanding their territory, and conquering anyone in the way. The hives of these
centaur-ants are all over Mechanus, the largest being on a huge cog that is simply called the Center. Some
people think it is called that because it is the center of the plane of Mechanus, but this unit knows that is
screed. If Mechanus has a center, it is Regulus, the realm of the modrons.

Some chant says the formians have been able to take territory from the modrons because the modrons were
weakened by recent events. Not long ago a Modron March was launched ahead of schedule, during which the
modron displayed many bizarre behaviors. The modron have not yet returned completely to normal, and it is
because of this, they say, that the modrons have been unable to stop the formians‘ advances. Others theorize
that the modrons are allowing themselves to be replaced, accepting that their time has passed. This unit does
not believe that is true. This unit believes the modrons have been busy in preparation for some plan to oppose
the formians. The modrons and the formians have not yet come into direct conflict, and when they do it is not
obvious to this unit that the formians will win.

It may appear that Mechanus possesses its share of disparate elements either with no relation or completely
at odds with one another. But causality and fate connect all things into a single whole; one event leads to
another to another until everything in Mechanus and all the multiverse feels the repercussions and reacts in
kind. Only the powers are capable of perceiving the grand design, but most of Mechanus‘ inhabitants follow
personal and social codes of behavior with the utmost rigor both because it is conducive to a productive and
untroubled lives and because it makes it easier to control the consequences of one‘s actions. Likewise,
lawmakers of a burg tend to thoroughly consider the intent and effectiveness of the rules that govern their
land; though they may seem arbitrary to outsiders, every law exists to bring about some specific end. Visitors
—this unit speaks generally, not just of the visitors who are talking to it right now—are expected to follow the
laws with the same rectitude, and punishments for violations can be very severe. This unit strongly advises
anyone planning to visit anywhere on the plane to learn the laws of the place they are visiting before going
there.

Of course, there are still criminals who deliberately flout the laws of the land, either berks from the other side
of the Great Wheel who want to sow a little chaos or those who have no apprehensions about exploiting the
system for their own ends. Transgressors are pursued relentlessly, though perhaps without much passion.
Enlightened minds recognize that even such deviants are important elements of an orderly system. Chaos
and lawlessness, while anathema to the ideals of Mechanus, in small amounts can challenge a society to
become stronger and more adaptable just as violence and war destroy what currently exists to make room for
something vibrant and new.

208
A thought has just occurred to this unit. Perhaps the modrons and the formians will both put each other in the
dead-book, and leave room for a third race better suited to exemplifying law in the current era to come in and
fill the void. Hmm. That…would be interesting.

Gearwork Damage
The entire plane consists of a massive gearworks. Travelers in this plane need to be prepared for climbing
across these gears, and most importantly for avoiding being crushed by them when traveling from one gear
to the next. Gears may catch on clothing, stray shoestrings, unbound hair, and unattended limbs. The gears
are very difficult to jam up, as they are powered by the might of the plane itself, so it is best to simply avoid
getting caught in the first place.

Stepping from one gear to the next requires skill as the gears are generally turning counter to each other.
Gears that are too small to be stood upon as individuals should be handled as a whole as if rough terrain.
For larger gears, a character will need to make a Reflex save to avoid falling within the gearwork and taking
damage. Merely jumping from gear to gear does not negate the need for this reflex save. A Tumble check at
a DC 20 will reduce the save DC by 10. Flying eliminates the need for a reflex save as it allows the
character to take some consideration when landing upon the new surface.

The difficulty of this save is directly related to the speed of the gear the character is stepping onto. The
following table presents two ways of measuring the speed, for DM convenience, in both cases this is the
speed of the gear turning at its outermost edge.

Planar Traits

Alignment-dominant: Mechanus is strongly lawful. Those not of this alignment are at a -2 to Cha, Int, Wis
checks.

Movement: Movement on Mechanus is complicated by the spinning effects of the planar gears, as
described above.

Creatures: Marut, modron, formian, Guvners.

209
 The Inner Planes
Quinn Blackgem

Alright, come, come, please have a seat and get yourself relaxed. It‘s not often I get such esteemed guests
looking for a guide to the Sphere. What is a humble earth genasi to think? I suppose I should be glad you
have noticed my years of devoted work, and grace me with your presence. Is there anything I can offer you?
The food here is quite a bit different from that you‘ll find in Sigil, I know, but I have only the best. No? Well,
straight to business, certainly.

As you likely know, the Inner Planes are the building blocks of reality as we know it. Air, earth, fire, water, life,
and its anti-thesis of undeath. It is with these basic elements and energies that all the rest of the Great Ring is
built. Makes them sound pretty important, huh? Well, that depends on who you ask. Those planars from the
Outer Planes who pride themselves on their intellectual discourse tend to think of the Inner Planes as a simple
place, largely devoid of the philosophical conflicts that give meaning to the struggles of the multiverse.
Naturally, those from the Inner Planes often say other planes are but a pale reflection of the purity of their own
homes. If there is a real difference in mindset between the two cardinal planes, I would say it was this: the
Outer Planes are about the proper way of acting and viewing the world, the Inner Planes are about the right
state of being and intrinsic value of substance. Thus, there is a great deal of emphasis on purity, beauty, and
utility on the Inner Planes.

For those from elsewhere in the Great Ring, the Inner Planes can seem quite alien. For starters, each plane is
made almost entirely of the elemental or energy it represents. Earth has little air of its own, and few natural
materials that are flammable. Most liquids vaporize immediately on Fire, and what ground exists is just as hot
as the rest of the plane. The Energy Planes have almost no elemental matter, just an infinite supply of raw
power. Naturally, materials can be shipped in from elsewhere or magically created (albeit with some difficulty).
There‘s also the elemental pockets, which are formed when elemental matter slips into another plane, though
many of the natives greatly dislike such impurities. Elemental pockets can provide opportunities for rest and
shelter from a plane‘s hazards, but they‘re often short-lived, and many are plenty dangerous all their own.
Who would want to sleep in a pocket of fire, or ooze?

Environmental Dangers on the Elemental Planes

Many of the Elemental Planes have natural hazards simply because of what they are, since these planes are
composed of energies that are hostile to the life of the average adventurer. A wise adventurer will find some
way to deal with these energies; either by means of a spell such as attune plane or immunity to element, or
by means of a magical item or other simple protection. Those foolhardy, or unlucky, enough to go
unprotected onto a hostile elemental plane will have to deal with the environmental hazards of that plane
every round.

More importantly, the environments of many of the Inner Planes are incapable of supporting life from other
planes. Largely dependent on some mixture of the elements, most folk can‘t survive in lands without air and
water without a lot of magic or special equipment. Some planes actively destroy whatever comes into them,
particularly those bordering the Negative Energy Plane. For that reason, most creatures native to the Inner
Planes are elemental in some fashion, and outsiders steer clear or only visit realms where precautions have
been made to support them. Each of the Elemental Planes and a few of the other Inner Planes has one or two
metropolises where planewalkers can visit in relative safety, making them important sites of commerce and
politics while leaving the majority of the planes to the locales (which is generally how they like it, anyways).

Another thing that strikes many planars as odd is that there are no divisions along moral or ethical lines. The
Inner Planes themselves simply do not recognize such abstract ideas, and are ambivalent to the forces of
Chaos, Evil, Good, and Law. Which isn‘t to say that the residents are all neutral, or don‘t have their own
philosophical conflicts! But to say that Fire is bad because it destroys most things that come to it, or that
Positive is a power of good, is, well, the height of ignorance.

210
Natives of the Inner Planes
Each plane has its own unique creatures based on the plane‘s environment and nature. Elementals,
paraelementals, and quasielementals make up the vast majority of life on each plane, and are more or less
equivalent to the exemplar of the Outer Planes. Though most think of elementals as mindless, instinctual
creatures, they‘re significantly smarter on the Inner Planes and have their own societies, customs, and
individual lives. It‘s certainly hard to relate to the life of a lightning quasielemental, but you‘re asking for trouble
if you treat them like simpletons. [Studies have indeed shown conclusively that elementals on the Inner
Planes are significantly smarter than those seen elsewhere. Whether this is a result of some trauma endured
during summoning, or some handicap imposed by leaving the pure elements, is unknown. —The Editor] Most
elementals are neutral and stick to their own kind (they have just as much trouble understanding us as we do
them!), but a few are good or evil. Such individuals tend to serve one of the archomentals, incredibly powerful
elemental beings that serve the cause of Good or Evil and are responsible for many of the wars fought on the
Inner Planes.

For the most part, the archomentals are the closest thing to powers on the Inner Planes. Few deities choose
to reside here, likely because the planes themselves are immutable and resistant to change. There are a few,
gods of the elements and the like, but they‘re usually recluses and discourage visitors. So while you‘re less
likely to find a divine realm, that means there‘s more room for other creatures to form their own kingdoms and
have a hand in the plane‘s affairs. The various genies races have taken the greatest advantage of the
opening, and their cities are spread across their respective planes. There‘s one genie race for each of the
Elemental Planes: djinn of Air, dao of Earth, efreet of Fire, and marid of Water. They don‘t have any particular
friendship with one another, but they‘re usually welcoming of travelers and fine hosts. Their half-breed
children, the genasi such as myself, have been showing up in increasing numbers and are thriving where their
human parents continue to struggle. It may only be a matter of time before entire genasi communities begin
appearing. Finally there are the mephits, one for each Inner Plane save Positive and Negative. The tiny
winged creatures vary widely in nature and temperament depending on their species, but their numbers allow
them influence in the Sphere, especially on the Paraelemental and Quasielemental Planes.

Not all the creatures are of an elemental nature, to be sure; planars from all over come here for one reason or
another and there are a number of prime races that have migrated here. Humans, dwarves, elves, and
gnomes have been working to carve out a place for themselves for ages. The gem dragons are natives of the
Inner Planes, and they‘re joined by other dragons both common and rare. Mindflayers, githyanki, undead,
giants…well, the list goes on.

Organization of the Inner Planes

The Inner Planes are best conceived of as laying on the surface of a sphere—or better yet, a globe. At the top
and bottom poles are the Energy Planes: Positive and Negative. Around the equator are the Elemental
Planes: Air, Earth, Fire, and Water. Also around the equator, between each of the Elemental Planes, are the
Paraelemental Planes: Ice, Magma, Ooze, and Smoke. Between the Elemental and Energy Planes lie the
Quasielemental Planes: Radiance, Mineral, Steam, Lightning, Dust, Ash, Salt, and Vacuum.

Each plane is infinite, but it‘s possible to move from one plane to its neighbors. It‘s not as simple as believing
it and it being so, but with a planar guide getting to a border region is normally a trip of only a few days. There
are border regions between neighboring planes that serve as landmarks indicating that you‘re about to cross
over, and as you walk you‘ll find the environment beginning to resemble that of the place you‘re trying to get
to. Since there is no astral connection in the Inner Planes, teleportation spells don‘t work so there‘s a lot more
reliance on the Ethereal to speed travel along. Unfortunately there are all sorts of predators looking for just
such attempts, and it‘s easy to get lost in the ether mists. I‘d say, it‘s best to shell out the money for a guide, if
you can.

Controlling Movement with Subjective Gravity

Many of the Inner Planes does not have normal gravity. Instead the gravity is at the choice of the individual.
You simply 'pick' which way is down and start falling that way. Landing is more difficult and if not done with
care, to change the direction of gravity, falling damage will be taken in proportion to distance travelled.
Specific areas (large chucks of rock or the like) may have their own gravity wells that trump this planar
quality.

211
 THE ELEMENTAL PLANES
The Elemental Planes reflect the four primary elements: air, earth, fire, and water. All matter is formed from
the combination of these elements, and all matter eventually breaks down into them. These four planes are
the purest examples of the four elements and are situated in a ring, with Fire and Water opposite one another,
and the same for Air and Earth. Despite the fact that some of the Elemental Planes are closer to one another
and linked by one of the Paraelemental Planes, the residents tend to consider their respective element the
best and dislike the other elements equally.

The Elemental Plane of Air

Jenni Montwork

Hey, cutter, watch it there. Do you have any feathers on you? 'Cause this here alleyway holds a portal to Air,
you know, the Boundless Blue. You were about to stumble into it. Oh, you were headed to Air? Well, let me
rattle about the plane for a couple minutes then. My father was a djinni and I‘ve spent a bit of time there, I‘m
sure I could enlighten you on a couple things that‘ll make your trip easier.

Yes? Now, I know Air is considered the safest Inner Plane, and it probably is. But blitz in there unprepared and
you‘ll be penned in the dead-book a tad early. The most important thing is gravity. I‘m going to explain it to
you, and I‘m sure you‘ll still get it wrong. Hey, don‘t be throwing mithril—I told you it‘s complicated. Anyway,
here‘s how it works: there is no down. This is very hard for dreamers to accept, so let‘s go with an easier
concept: down is subjective. You can pick whichever ‗down‘ you like, to help you get around. Now, this works
great as most of the plane is empty space—or air, rather. The point is, you can get around pretty quick by
picking a down and falling that way, but if you‘re going anywhere on the plane (I‘m guessin‘ you are) you‘ll
need to figure out slowing down, or you‘re in for a quick stop on an earthburg. That‘s the big thing you‘ll find,
bits of earth with cities on them, or free-floating castles. The castles you‘ll want to be careful of, as a lot of
them are pretty hende wizards, and they don‘t often like being dropped in on.

That brings me to my next point: a lot of people live on Air, likely because it‘s so hospitable. Most of the time
the djinn think they‘re in charge and it‘s often better
to let them continue on that way. Their high-up is
Husam al-Balil ben Nafhat al-Yugayyim, Master of
the Clouds and Son of the Breezes, Ruler of All
Djinn, Defender of the Heavens, Commander of the
Four Winds, Prince of Birds, Storm of the Righteous,
Master of the Air, etc, etc, blah blah blah. My father
made me memorize that, and if you can remember
“Great Caliph” and one of those illustrious-sounding
titles, you should do fine. Don‘t refer to him by name
unless you want to spend every loving breath
showering him with titles and commendations,
though. And don‘t mention any friendly dealings with
the cloud and storm giants of Air, or the efreet of
Fire. The djinn have been warring with them since
long before my time, or yours.

Also of note are the elementals, but most of the time

you won‘t notice them. Unless you understand
Auran, in which case you‘ll hear constant
conversation between them. You get used to it after
a while. Now, worth mentioning is Air‘s pair of
archomentals—one good, one evil. The good one is
Chan, the evil one Yan-C-Bin, both of whom wander
the plane and are locked in a quiet war of moves
and countermoves. It‘s unlikely you‘ll meet either of
them, since they‘re both naturally invisible and
prefer to act subtlety, but it‘s not unusual for others
to become unwitting proxies in their plots.

212
Anyways, anyone who‘s been to Air can tell you how beautiful it is. Endless vistas of blue sky, with seas of
white cloud drifting lazily through infinity. My words do it no justice, though; you really must see it for yourself.
It should come as no surprise, then, that there are places of great beauty to be found on the plane. One of
these places is Borealis, a great palace built around a vortex to Radiance. It‘s inhabited by a race called the
nyth, which resemble will-o‘- wisps. Chant is that the entire structure is built from panes of solid light, though
I‘ve no idea how someone could accomplish that. It‘s a wonderful place to visit, but you must remember to
keep to the tops of the spires; venture deep into the palace, and the nyth‘ll surround and kill you. They‘re
protecting something, but nobody‘s lived long enough to discover what.

You remember how I mentioned djinn earlier? Their capital is a great castle they call the Citadel of Ice and
Steel. It‘s made mostly of eternal ice, a kind of ice from the paraelemental plane of the same name that never
melts, no matter how hot the environment (I‘m sure some spots in Fire would melt it, though). The Citadel is
another lovely place to visit, representative of the djinn‘s taste for fine craftsmanship. Be prepared if you go
there, though; djinn love receiving gifts, and it‘s only proper tribute to be generous to your hosts. Chant is that
somewhere in the Citadel is the Invisible College, said to be a cabal of djinn sorcerers and illusionists who
protect the Citadel. I wouldn‘t go asking about it; djinn are very secretive when dealing with outsiders. Also, if
you see a large ruby palace hovering nearby, the Citadel is closed to visitors. That‘s said to be the palace of
Sardior, king of all gem dragons, and he puts the Great Caliph in a sour mood.

One place you simply must visit—conveniently located near the Citadel of Ice and Steel—is the Waterspout.
It‘s one of Air‘s lovely enigmas. The Waterspout is a pair of vortices to Water, apparently inextricably tied
together. A great gout of water erupts from one vortex and falls into the other, creating a large and very pretty
waterfall. Not the kind of thing you‘d expect to find on the gravityless Plane of Air. It kicks up a lot of mist,
wreathing the whole thing in a great fog bank. Keep your eyes sharp when visiting; last I heard, some genasi
basher was trying to connect a vast system of water wheels to the 'Spout, and he gets a little touchy about
people trying to interfere with his work.

Oh, someplace a planewalker would want to avoid is the Great Funnel, and it‘s not hard to miss the place.
The Great Funnel is a vast whirlwind, large enough to encompass entire prime worlds. This in itself is enough
of a danger to warrant steering clear, but it‘s also the home of Akadi, Queen of Air. Though she‘s not good or
evil (she‘s no archomental), she‘s a mighty powerful air elemental, and best to be left alone. As if the
whirlwinds weren‘t enough, Akadi has a cadre of trained air genasi warrior-maidens that act as her guards and
spies. You‘ll never find bloods more skilled in combat in Air.

Now, cutter, I think you‘re ready to step through that portal. Thanks for listening, and remember what I‘ve told
you. Hey, wait! You weren‘t going to take all that friendly advice without a few coins in return, were you? A
basher needs some jink to make ends meet, you know? `Sides, what‘s a few gold pieces to a great
planewalker like you?

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Elemental-dominant: Air-dominant. There are few locations with any form of recognizable “ground”.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create air (including spells of the Air
domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create earth (including spells of the Earth domains
and spells that summon creatures with the earth subtype) are impeded requiring a Spellcraft check at a DC
15+ spell level to cast.

Movement: In addition to the movement modes enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, natural
flight is also possible in Air.

Creatures: Air elementals and mephitis, djinni, invisible stalkers, sylph, tempets.

213
 The Elemental Plane of Earth
Havan al-Davhi

Welcome to the Great Dismal Delve, cattle. Pay attention for I will not repeat myself. Hold still for our
physician, our Lady wouldn‘t want the brand to become infected and waste our investment. You are graced
with the honor of serving the Lady Jasi Merua al-Benham al-Davhi, Gem of the Deep, Empress of Stone, ad-
infitam—or, to you lowly skimmings of her Ladyship‘s breakfast leftovers, ―Mistress ‖. She is the one you
have given such umbrage to by mining in her domain, so foolishly attempting to steal from this land‘s great
riches of metal and gems. However, the Lady understands that you are simple creatures driven by your greed,
and thus has shown mercy by making you her slave.

I am her eyes. Her ears. Her arm. Her whip. And you will obey her command.

Do not run.

I will tell you slavering beasts what you will find on leaving the grand estates of our Ladyship. For those of you
who are unenlightened beasts, rejoice, you now serve in the heart of the dao empire. I beg of you, flee. I will
enjoy watching you slink back to your Mistress‘s feet begging her to chain you to her footstool.

Outside of her Ladyship‘s estate you will first find others who choose to reside in the shadow of our Great
Khan. Lords and Ladies, Khans and those who serve them. You will be spotted. You will be returned to us.
You may even be returned to us with both of your feet still attached. Should you look upon our Great Khan,
Kabril Ali al-Sara al-Zalazil, the Perfect Compass, Fountian of Wealth, The Roots of the Mountian, the
Stonefaced Lord, ad-infitam, you may assume your eyes to be forfeit.

That would be a blessing upon your lowly heads.

For, should you be remotely unlucky enough to pass beyond the gates of our capital, you will find yourselves
in the Sevenfold Mazework. You will wander the mazes. You will cry for our Lady to come, find you, and kill
you. You will starve. That is your first punishment if you flee your duty to your Mistress.

Should you survive the hunger and thirst, there is more to come. This place, the Plane of Earth, the Anvil,
does not tolerate its injuries long. It will heal itself of any passage you dig. And you will have to dig, for there is
no other way to travel. Any gap you find will
close. Any hole you chisel to conceal yourself,
as the whimpering curs you are, will collapse
around you. You will choose: sleep or breathe.
Rest in your burrow and you will be trapped,
your moaning muffled beneath the stone. Your
second punishment will be crushing death.

We will find your bones in our mines.

You will choke lest you can breathe dirt. And

we have marked those among you who have
that gift, mind you. You will find only pockets
of poisoned air outside of the safety we afford
you. Perhaps you will be lucky and the air you
find will merely ignite as you breach it, or kill
you with its poisons. Your third punishment
will be suffocation. This is Earth. There is no
air here. You breathe even now at the grace
of her Ladyship. You will be as one blind
without our light to guide you. This is Earth.
There is no light here. There is only one thing
you will find if you flee your Mistress‘s safety,
you will hear the moans of the damned, for
this is Earth. And Earth carries sound very
well. I will hear every footstep you make as
you slink away.

214
As you lay gasping in the depths of whatever hovel you have found to secure your body for the moment, you
will receive your final punishment. Earth is slow, and patient. And when it moves it moves with the power of a
mountain. With the force of our Great Khan‘s own anger, and the speed of your Mistress‘s wrath. It will grind
you asunder as it moves, turning itself over with the strength of the inevitable. Provoke the fury of an
earthquake, and your last punishment is dismemberment.

This is where you are safe.

I see the looks passing amongst you. You think I am a fool? You think if you can escape, if you are strong
enough, clever enough, if you use your previous experience digging in the dirt, that you will escape your
punishments? Ah, indeed, fools. The very personifications of Earth will not aid you. You will find Ogremoch‘s
followers first, the Evil Prince of the Elementals, and he will merely return you to us, perhaps as a fine paste
upon the stone. You may have heard rumors of other Elemental Princes, of Sunnis, or Grumbar. Grumbar, the
supremely neutral, will not care about such lowly fleshy beasts as you. And Sunnis the Good has no followers
and no time to tend to flocks of needy cattle such as yourselves. You will not find her before your punishments
take you. Stick with the Lady you know will feed you at the end of the day, not the one who will demand a
grand treasure of you before she deems you worthy.

There are giants here, and cyclops. Dragons and basilisks, medusas and other beastly creatures that burrow
in dirt and stone. Oh, there are others, small folk. Dwarves, gnomes, and shad, some with great cities and
domains all their own. They tend to their own needs, their owns survival, their own crafts, their own secrets.
None of them will be your friend. None of them will feed you. None of them will give you water or clothing or
shelter. You will find no purpose outside of your Mistress‘s domain.

You have no value. Remember that. Resign yourself to that now. Your purpose is as your Lady decides.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Normal, heavy gravity. All Climb, Jump, Ride, Swim, and Tumble checks suffer a -2 penalty; all
weights are doubled, while weapon ranges are halved; falling incurs 1d10 points of damage per 10 feet
fallen, up to a maximum of 20d10. Gravity is oriented towards the largest gravity well in an area.

Elemental-dominant: Earth-dominant. The plane is nearly completely solid.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create earth (including spells of the
Earth domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create Air (including spells of the Air domain and
spells that summon creatures with the subtype) are impeded requiring a Spellcraft check at a DC 15+ spell
level to cast.

Breathing: This plane is mostly solid. Travelers who arrive run the risk of suffocation if they don't reach a
cavern or other pocket within the mineral matter. Many pockets of “air” in Earth contain toxic or explosive
gases.

Movement: Earth is petrifying. A creature non-native to Earth slowly grinds to a halt and turns to stone. At
the conclusion of every week spent on the plane, any non-native must make a Fortitude save (DC 15, +1
per previous check). Failure indicates that the creature is turned to some kind of stony matter (GM's choice),
effectively petrified.

Vision: There are no natural light sources on Earth. Sound, on the other hand travels very well; all Listen
checks enjoy a +5 circumstance bonus.

Creatures: Dao, earth elementals and mephits, lava mephitis, xorn.

215
 The Elemental Plane of Fire

Mahmud Han bin Abdulhamid

You? Your soft flesh and mortal form cannot withstand the vigorous, pure reality that is the Crematorium. If
you were wise, you would stick to the cold and dark planes from which you come. Perhaps with sufficient
magic you may be able to violate natural law for a short time. Since you are clearly foolish and proud, I may
as well warn you of what you will encounter in my home. It is only hospitable, after all.

Allow me to explain the terrain. Yes, of course it is all made of fire, but it comes in different degrees and kinds.
There is a solid fire, the volcanic stones basalt, obsidian, and pumice that are analogous to the earth upon
which you now stand. There are various forms of liquid fire, ranging from viscous magma to thin, volatile oil.
Be wary of the seas of oil, as horrendous firestorms often wash over them that will handily overcome any
magical resistance you may possess. Finally, there is a fine, malevolent fumed form of fire, which pervades
and subsumes the very air of the plane. Hah, I say again, you are not suited for Fire, as you will need more
than protection from the heat; you will need a way to breathe. The wonderful fumes and smokes that provide
us with such sustenance will scorch and suffocate your meaty lungs. That aside, even with your most potent
magics, there are places you must never go. There are regions of my burning, illustrious home that are hot
enough even to wound the elementals.

There are a number of creatures on Fire. Most of them are insignificant; fire bats, genasi, planewalkers. There
are four races of any importance on the plane: efreet, elementals, azer, and salamanders. The elementals are
the most numerous, but the efreet are,
clearly, the most powerful and influential.
Formed of ever-burning basalt, bronze,
and living flame, my people are built for
this most glorious of planes and are
greatest among genies. Efreet cities and
military outposts can be found throughout
Fire, from which we launch assaults on our
enemies, the djinn of Air and marid of
Water. Though your kind calls us cruel,
none argues that our rule of Fire is not
right and proper. Address us properly and,
more importantly, offer proper recompense
for the services we offer. Treat an efreeti
well, and your time on Fire will be easy.

Yet, if you are not graced with the company

of an efreeti guide, then you would be wise
to avoid the other inhabitants of Fire. The
salamanders, who are often found as
slaves of my people or in their own tiny
kingdoms guarding portals to other planes,
are generally uneducated and violent.
They have their own nobility, but all the
salamanders value is size and strength,
and they offer none of the hospitality of my
kin. Now, the azer, they are good smiths,
not unlike the dwarves from Earth, and
quite useful if you need any metalwork
done. However, their customs are
unsettling, for the azer place honor and
subservience to their laws above all things,
even their own lives. It is unlikely you will
happen upon them, for though they have a
number of mines and towers, they keep to
themselves.

216
Fire has seen many epic battles and glorious, savage wars. Much of this can be laid at the feet of Imix, Prince
of Evil Fire Creatures, who strives to destroy all those who will not bow to him. His warriors control much of
the plane, and he seeks to dominate more of it. I believe once he‘s done that, Imix will seek to burn the entire
multiverse. Do not interfere with Imix‘s rule; his good archomental counterpart, Zaaman Rul, was recently
defeated by him and sent running like a bastard cur. I can assure you that Zaaman Rul is stronger than you
are. Imix‘s armies are vast, and ever fewer are willing to oppose him, though as of yet he has not dared to
challenge Kossuth, Tyrant-King of Fire Elementals and God of All Flames. Since you‘re from the Outer Planes,
I‘m sure you know all about deities and why they should be left alone.

More important than the feuding leaders of the elementals is Sultan Marrake al-Sidan al-Hariq ben Lazan, the
Lord of Flame, the Potentate Incandescent, the Tempering and Eternal Flame of Truth, the Most Puissant of
Hunters, Marshall of the Order of the Fiery Heart, the Smouldering Dictator, the Crimson Firebrand, Master of
the City of Brass and Sultan of All Efreet. He rules my people, may his reign be everlasting and prosperous,
and is the leader of the City of Brass, the largest and most important site on the Plane of Fire.

The City of Brass? It is too big for me to describe in great detail. A brief overview, however, I can provide. It
lies on a great brass hemisphere over forty miles across which floats above the surface of the plane, slowly
moving over the Sea of Scorching Flame. About once a week it dips down into a bay of magma and oil to
allow fireships to dock at the harbor. Not far is the Obsidian Fields, where slaves tend to the fields and gather
the harvest, and the Sable Forest, one of the greatest forests in Fire and the hunting ground for many boble
efreet. The City of Brass itself is home to many hundreds of thousands of elemental creatures. It is the best
place on the plane to purchase slaves and supplies, and we have many merchants from Baator and Earth that
journey to our home to partake. The most important thing is to be mindful of the laws for visitors, which are
well-posted at the gates and inns.

There are a number of other important sites around Fire, but most of them are so subtle as to be lost to the
perception of one not wholly composed of flame and basalt, as I am. One place to avoid is the Crimson Pillar.
This is the realm of Kossuth and, as I mentioned earlier, gods are best left alone. The biggest concentration of
azer is called the Crucible. Although plenty of azer smiths live and work in the City of Brass, if you‘re nowhere
near the City and close to the Crucible, this could be a more convenient place to go for metalworks. The Plain
of Burnt Dreams is a large area that contains the Temple of Ultimate Consumption, which is where Imix lives.
As I mentioned before, you do not want to challenge him. If you‘re interested in joining his forces, on the other
hand, this may be a place of interest.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Normal gravity. Gravity is oriented towards the largest gravity well in an area. Elemental-dominant:
Fire-dominant. The open flames deal 3d10 points of fire damage per round of exposure. Water creatures
take double damage

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create fire (including spells of the
Fire domain) are both maximized and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create water (including spells of the Water
domains and spells that summon creatures with the water subtype) are impeded requiring a Spellcraft check
at a DC 15+ spell level to cast.

Breathing: Breathing in Fire is as normal, though in some areas the oxygen may be too thin to breathe
requiring the use of spells or items.

Movement: Movement in Fire is as normal, natural flight is also possible in Fire.

Vision: Below the surface, vision is obscured. Above the surface, the blazing fire usually provides normal
illumination.

Creatures: Azer, efreeti, faire elementals and mephitis, fire snakes, flame spirits, hell hounds, salamanders.

217
 The Elemental Plane of Water
Shah Agharassi al-Zi`ir

So! You wish me to tell of the Plane of Water, greatest of the planes! Of course, I will be glad to tell you what
you wish to know; all must realize the glory of this plane, and recognize how brightly it outshines all the others,
in beauty, in importance, and in power! And I promise you that my account will be completely and absolutely
objective, with no exaggeration. After all, who needs to exaggerate when speaking of the Bottomless Deep,
the keystone and crowning jewel of the vast multiverse?

It is appropriate, I think, to begin the discussion of this most important of planes by speaking of its most
important inhabitants—those, of course, would be the marids, of which I, Shah Agharassi al-Zi`ir, have the
humble honor of counting myself an example. The marids are a race of genies, whose wisdom, grace, and
puissance far overshadow those of any other race among all the planes. The capital of their mighty empire is
Citadel of Ten Thousand Pearls, where Padishah Kalbari al-Durrat al-Amwaj ibn Jari rules from the Coral
Throne. Marids are often accused of being capricious and untrustworthy, but ah! It is only that they know the
way of the flowing water, and they have the prudence to follow it; their actions are fully sane and laudable, and
it is only the limited perspective of the unenlightened that sees them as otherwise.

But wait! Perhaps before going on about the inhabitants of the plane I should speak more of the plane itself.
The Bottomless Deep is, of course, an infinite expanse of water, that most noble and most vital of elements.
But only a fool would think for that that it is all the same. There are many forms of perfection, and the Plane of
Water embraces them all. Surely much of the plane is simply clear water of the type that might be found in the
purest of the lakes on a less pristine plane. But the Plane of Water has also many other parts to it. There are
vast fields of bubbles, each one like a tiny jewel. There are charming meadows of water plants that extend in
all directions for farther than the eye can see. There are the lovely red tides, torrents of water dyed red by tiny
creatures—though I understand that these areas, despite their beauty, may be dangerous to mortals who are
susceptible to disease. In any case, the variety of the Plane of Water is truly as infinite as its extent.

Of course, there are times that matter from other planes gets into the Plane of Water. Although one could say
that this dilutes the plane‘s purity, perhaps in a way this is as it should be, for as the most wonderful and
perfect of planes, Water should embrace all others as well. Thus one may find in the Bottomless Deep
pockets of air, blocks of stone, shards of ice and even of cursed salt. Sometimes these may pose problems,
such as when a pocket of mineral or ooze dissolves and makes an acidic region that some planewalkers call
“burn water”. But this, of course, is only a demonstration of the imperfection of the other planes, and reflects
no ill upon the Plane of Water itself.

Getting around in the Bottomless Deep is simple. There is no gravity, no up or down unless you choose to
imagine it, and one can easily swim wherever one wants to go. Naturally, the water is not still; the plane is a
living and turbulent place, as it should be, and there are many currents and eddies and whirlpools to confuse
and batter the incautious traveler. Natives know how to avoid these tides, or even to use them to speed their
journeys. Oh, I suppose, too, many planewalkers not adapted to the glory of water might also have a problem
breathing on the plane, is that not so? But there are, I think, spells to get around that, and it is well worth going
through such means to be able to experience the magnificence of Water. Even better, I would recommend that
the benighted dry races polymorph themselves permanently into aquatic creatures, but ah! I realize that few
would have the vision to undergo such a step. At least vision would pose no problem, even for those that
cannot see in the dark; through most of the plane (though not all of it, for again, its variety is astounding) there
is a soft rippling light suffusing the water.

Now I shall speak of the plane‘s inhabitants. It seems almost a superfluity, since I have already spoken of the
marids, and ah! After that, what more must be said? Yet although the marids are by far the most important
inhabitants of the planes, they are not the only ones. There are, of course, the elementals, as on all the
Elemental Planes, and the mephitis, though water mephits are foolish, babbling creatures, hardly worthy of
such a splendid home. Many of the creatures found on the watery parts of other worlds find their ideal home
here on the Plane of Water, but there are also many creatures here unfamiliar to most planewalkers, who
have not had the honor of fully coming to know the wonder of our plane. The bzastra, an intelligent creature
made of rings of flesh entangled in seaweed. The suiseen, a great shapeless being that is nearly invisible to
those who do not know the water well. The ungulosin, a protective spirit that forms from amassing lesser
creatures together. So bountiful is the Bottomless Deep that I could go on for days and still name only a tiny
fraction of the creatures that are found here! But, again, I have named the marids, who are the most
important, and let that be enough.

218
You know of the powers, yes? Gods? Even they crowd together to partake of the splendor that is my plane.
Why, I do believe Water is home to more deities than any other Inner Plane. And who can blame them!
There‘s Eadro, patron of the merfolk, and Persana, god of the tritons both visionary architects of Water. I‘ve
heard he personally helped in the construction of the Citadel of Ten Thousand Tears. Even the realms of Ben-
Hadar, Prince of Good Water Creatures, and Olhydra, Princess of Evil Water Creatures, are amazing feats of
coral design.

The mortal inhabitants of Water have built, too, a vast city, the greatest city on all the planes—next to the
unparalleled cities of the marids, of course. This is the City of Glass. I have heard Sigil lauded as the greatest
city of the planes, and the City of Glass called the Sigil of the Elements. Pah! Better to call Sigil the City of
Glass of the Alignments, for truly it is the City of Glass that is the greater of the two, and Sigil the reflection.

Yet, that matter aside, it is true that Sigil and the City of Glass do have some things in common. Both are filled
with portals, to all over the multiverse, and are major centers of planar trade. Both are inhabited by all manner
of race and creature (though the particular mix of creatures is different, of course). The City of Glass has, as
one might expect, many inhabitants native to the Plane of Water, as well as a sizeable population of wormlike
creatures called ormyrr uncommon elsewhere on the planes. But there are humans and halflings and giants
and representatives of all the other lesser, dry races as well. There are even some marids that condescend to
live in the City of Glass, despite its clear inferiority to their own glorious realms. Still, it‘s inhabitants do try, very
hard, to make their city the gleaming jewel of the multiverse. Few places can boast of such magnificent
design; every building is a unique artistic masterpiece, and the streets themselves are paved in glowing
pearls. Artists, collectors, and simple admirers from the planes over come to share and add to the city‘s
beauty. You simply cannot fathom the majesty such a place until you see it for yourself.

What? So soon must you go? But ah! I have had not the time to tell you of the tiniest fraction of the many
marvels and blessings of the plane! Why, many volumes could be filled on the wondrous Plane of Water
without but giving a minuscule glimpse of the prizes it has to offer! Yes, yes; if you must go, I will not impede
you, but I hope you will do your best to get across the majesty of the plane. Truly, the rest of the multiverse
does not appreciate the paramount supremacy of the Plane of Water.

Planar Traits

Gravity: No gravity. A body merely floats in place, unless other resources are available to provide a direction
for gravity's pull.

Elemental-dominant: Water-dominant. The quenching waters deal 1d10 points of damage to creatures of
the fire subtype per round of exposure.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create water (including spells of the
Water domain) are both extended and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create fire (including spells of Fire domains and
spells that summon creatures with the fire subtype) are impeded requiring a Spellcraft check at a DC 15+
spell level to cast.

Breathing: For creatures that must breath, water breathing spells are a necessity, otherwise the creature
will drown. A creature can hold her breath for a number of rounds equal to twice her Constitution score. After
this period of time, the character must make a DC 10 Constitution check every round in order to continue
holding her breath. Each round, the DC increases by 1. When the character finally fails her Constitution
check, she begins to drown. In the first round, she falls unconscious (0 hp). In the following round, she drops
to -1 hit points and is dying. In the third round, she drowns and is dead.

Movement: In order to move in Water, one must Swim. The exceptions are incorporeal creatures and
creatures of the water type; their movement is not hindered in any way.

Vision: Below the surface of the water, all sight (including darkvision) is limited to 20 feet. The exception are
natives (water elementals and mephits, creatures with the water subtype, etc.) who see normally. There are
few natural light sources, but artificial ones function well enough.

Creatures: Water elementals and mephitis, ice mephitis, marid, Nereid, tritons, and water wierds.

219
 THE ENERGY PLANES
Quinn Blackgem

The planes of Positive and Negative Energy are unusual. Nearly devoid of matter and inimical to foreign
substances, they‘re perhaps the purest planes in existence. But don‘t you listen to a single word any of those
clueless out there may have to say about how “positive energy is good” and “negative energy is evil”. That‘s
rubbish through and through. The energy planes couldn‘t give a cranium rat‘s tail about morality or ethics.
They just exist and that‘s enough for them, and it ought to be enough for you too. But knowing most
planewalkers, you‘ll come up with some reason for going there. I‘ll tell you what I know about the Energy
Planes, but don‘t say I didn‘t warn you about tempting the fundamental forces of the multiverse. [It must be
noted that this particular subject prompted a much longer rant about “worm-brained primes”, which has been
removed, and seemed to be a sore point for an otherwise tranquil and gracious host. —The Editor]

220
 The Negative Energy Plane
Negative is the energy of death, undeath, and the unmaking of things. The Void, Oblivion, the End, the dead-
book, or just Death; it‘s been given many names, and most cultures are inclined to think it‘s some
manifestation of evil. But they‘d be wrong, 'cause Negative is as fundamental to the multiverse as any of the
Inner Planes, and it has no use for morality. You might think of it as Entropy, if you were into that sort of thing,
and it‘s not necessarily bad, just dangerous. Negative can sap away the life from a person quicker that you
could say “I wanna go home!”, and can snuff light and warmth in a heartbeat. Suffice to say, connections to
the Negative Energy Plane are what give the undead their mobility. If you‘re a necromancer, or just like to play
with corpses, this is the place for you. Most necromantic spells or clerical controls of undead involve
channeling little bits of this place, in small enough quantities not to harm the caster. When you‘re at the
source, though, you better be protected.

From the moment you enter Negative, the plane begins sucking life from body and soul. It won‘t stop until you
leave, put up some magical protections, or die and be transformed by the negative energy into some sort of
undead creature. Even if you manage to avoid that fate with a protection from negative energy spell, it‘s
completely dark and all your senses are slightly numbed, making it nigh impossible to perceive your
surroundings. Fire and light is snuffed out instantly as the energy gets wicked up and away. If you happen to
run into trouble, be careful; healing spells aren‘t going to be nearly as effective as normal, as the positive
energy is drained by the plane. Also, if you do manage to kill any living creatures in there, get away from the
body. Fast. Or use a spell to keep it from rising as undead, cause otherwise it‘ll get right back up and try to
chew your face off. Really, the only thing that‘s simple about Negative is you can move by force of will, and
there‘s very little to impede you. As you can imagine, Negative kills off most creatures that come here, leaving
it home to the few beings that thrive on negative energy, such as the undead. Simple corporeal undead like
skeletons and zombies are overwhelmed by the amount of negative energy and explode like living folks on
Positive. But that only deals with the weakest undead, and plenty of others are empowered by the plane.
Some vampires and liches have probably moved in, but thankfully they remain few and far in-between, and no
doubt want to be left alone more than anything. Beyond the undead, there‘s the negative energon known as
the xeg-yi, incorporeal orbs of negative energy with a couple tendrils at their side. They‘re vicious and kill any
living things they cross, though no one knows why. Could be that the existence of positive energy angers
them, but that would assume they had emotions bashers like us can understand.

It‘s a pretty rough place to go, so it‘s surprising that some folks have managed to set up kip there. The most
important of those who have are probably the Dustmen. One of their greatest strongholds is in Negative, a
place known as the Fortress of the Soul. Many of the Dead make pilgrimages to the place to meditate by what
they consider to be the true manifestation of True Death, and though its population has increased sharply
since the Faction War, it remains a rather subdued place. Fortunately the Dustmen are willing to give
sanctuary to anyone who gets lost in the plane, though they‘ll send guests on their way as soon as they can.
Best be appreciative and respect their privacy.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Energy-dominant: Living creatures on Negative take 2d6 negative energy damage per round of exposure.
Any dead body on the plane will raise as undead within 5 rounds. Rebuke and control undead is at a +10 for
HS affected.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like effects that utilize negative energy are maximized.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like effects that utilize positive energy are impeded requiring a Spellcraft
check at a DC15 + spell level to cast.

Movement: Movement is enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait.

Vision: Vision in Negative is as normal. There are few natural light sources, but artificial ones function well
enough.

Creatures: Xeg-yi, undead, spectre, wights, shadows.

221
 The Positive Energy Plane

Positive is the energy of life, animation, creation, and healing. It‘s what gives that ―get up and dance‖
perkiness to animated objects. It‘s what your temple cleric channels to heal wounds, diseases, and the like.
And it‘s great…in small doses. Large doses, like those from the Positive Energy Plane itself, are lethal. In fact,
if I was forced to plan a vacation right now to one of the Energy Planes? I‘d pick Negative, Positive‘s just a
pain.

Here positive energy shifts around in the form of thick glowing miasma that fills the plane with an intense light,
so bright that most sods go blind immediately. You‘ll want to keep your eyes closed, wear a blindfold,
something. On the other hand, you‘re not going to be left fumbling in the great white expanse. Your sight may
be turned up so high that you can‘t use it safely, but your other senses get enhanced as well. Whether this is
from all the positive energy filling your body or some property of the fogs, with a little training your sense of
touch can be tuned to the point where you can simply sense where everything is around you. You won‘t have
any idea what color it is—but then everything‘s a bit washed out by the light anyways, so it doesn‘t really
matter, now does it?

As it is the source of life, Positive has one wonderful little habit. It likes to pump you full of energy, and then
give you quite a bit more. So full in fact, that you pop, like a mosquito that accidentally hit an artery. It‘s a
pretty bad way to go from what I‘ve heard, 'cause once your soul‘s left your body, the plane can‘t do much
about that. What it will do, however, is swiftly disintegrate your remains in its own form of cremation. Of
course, it‘ll do this to any unprotected object too (so don‘t wear your favorite shirt if you visit). Watch out for
your rations, some of those fruits and veggies are still technically 'alive‘ and they‘ll fight back in your belly if
you‘re not careful. You can bring something to protect you against the popping effect, like protection from
positive energy or planar tolerance, or you can take the cheap method, which involves a simple knife. Just
keep cutting yourself to make sure you don‘t get too charged up. It‘s not pleasant, but better than the
alternative by far.

222
Movement at least is pretty easier. You could swim through the miasma, but all you really have to do is think
about where you want to go, and poof, there you are. It‘s an innate feature of the plane; I‘m given to
understand it is much like a teleport spell. Oh, and a last note: considering the effects the plane has on
injuries and all, you can assume that any damage dealing spells or weapons are going to be less than
useless. Same goes for your necromancer buddy; channeling negative energy just isn‘t going to do too well
here. Invest in something that lets you take an opponent down without having to harm him.

Perhaps ironically, not many living beings are suited to surviving in Positive. I‘m told even the powers shy
away from the place, though I‘ve heard rumors of a god or two that have some sort of hidden realm there.
There‘s really not much native life other than the xag-ya, incorporeal orbs of positive energy with tendrils at
their sides. They‘re one of the various energons, but no one really understands them, and to my knowledge
they don‘t communicate with others. Like their negative energy cousins, they like to travel in packs and, like
the plane itself, they can pump you full of energy to the point where it hurts. But at least with these, if you can
befriend one and take it with you off plane, it‘ll make a good emergency aid kit. Not that I have a clue how one
might get them to like you.

Still, despite the risks, folks like to come to Positive for one reason or another; healing an injured friend,
researching the miasma, or creating artifacts that need so much raw energy. As for groups, recently a small
offshoot of the Mind‘s Eye set up a citadel from which they‘re learning to control the flow of positive energy.
They theorize that by charging themselves in controlled portions, they can transform themselves and jump a
few steps up the ascension ladder. What‘s even more ambitious, though, is the small town built by the Sons of
Mercy using shipped in materials and some pretty powerful magic. They‘re attempting to build paradise in the
middle of the well of life, and by doing so shift the whole plane—and perhaps all Creation— towards Good.
Barmy or brilliant, I‘ll wager you it‘s only a matter of time before some opposing force decides to put an abrupt
end to their project.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Energy-dominant: Living creatures on Positive gain Fast Healing 5, and receive 5 temporary HP per round
of exposure. When a creature‘s hit points exceed his normal hitpoints by over 50% he must make a Fortitude
save at a DC 20 for each round exceeding his normal hitpoints by 50%, or die messily as his body swells,
pops and burns from the inside out. Turning and destroying undead is at a +10 for HD affected.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like effects that utilize positive energy are maximized.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like effects that utilize negative energy are impeded requiring a Spellcraft
check at a DC15 + spell level to cast.

Movement: Movement is enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait. In addiction, Positive allows for
an alternate form of transportation as if by a slightly less reliable form of the teleport spell. Those travelling by
these means must at the least be somewhat aware of the nature of their destination. Add 15 to the
mischance roll for using the planar teleport.

Vision: This plane glows, even more intensely than that of Radiance. Closing your eyes doesn't work to
protect the eyes, and the glow is too intense for other protections to allow the use of sight. Most travelers
cover their eyes somehow prior to hopping in and rely on other senses while on the plane. All non-native
creatures with unprotected eyes must make a Fortitude save (DC 15 +1 per previous check) once per minute
or be rendered permanently blind. Visitors to the plane are not rendered unable to sense their surroundings
however. The sense of touch is heightened considerably, effectively giving all creatures on the plane 360
degree vision within 60 feet by sense of touch alone.

Creatures: Xag-ya.

223
 Those ‘Other’ Inner Planes
These days, there are two schools of thought in the Planewalker Guild regarding the Inner Planes.

The established, traditional one claims that besides four elemental and two energy planes, there are also four
paraelemental planes (Ice, Magma, Ooze, and Smoke) representing the mixture of two true elements, and
eight quasielemental planes (Ash, Dust, Salt, Vacuum, Lightning, Mineral, Radiance, and Steam) representing
the mixture of one true element with either positive or negative energy. The traditionalists also say that the
Ethereal Plane touches upon each of the eighteen or so Inner Planes, and that the Shadow is merely a
demiplane within the Ethereal. (We'll leave their ideas regarding the Astral, Ordial, and Outer planes aside for
the moment.)

The new, and currently more popular theory claims that the Inners consist of only four elemental planes (Air,
Earth, Fire, and Water) and two energy planes (Negative and Positive). The up-and-coming sages believe that
the so-called para- and quasi- elemental planes are nothing more that border regions of these six planes,
where multiple elemental and energy traits overlap to form unique ecosystems.

Regardless of which school of thought it prefers, a body must recognize that there are indeed several odd and
interesting areas of the Inner Planes that spawn few planewalkers, yet draw the interest of many. Whether you
call them paraplanes, quasiplanes, or borderline areas, is of secondary importance.

In order to bring the attention of the planewalking community to these areas, and possibly aid a few young
explorers, I hereby bring the information drawn from the records of the Guild and present it in the standardized
form. These documents do not describe the inhabitants and locations to be found on the plane, only the
prevalent planar traits and general conditions that any planewalker may find relevant.

Note that the term "plane" is used in order to maintain simplicity, and not necessarily add my voice to the
supporters of the Old ways. My mimir chokes when I dictate the phrase "border-regional anomaly of combined
planar traits" multiple times in a single paragraph.

THE PARAELEMENTAL PLANES

The Paraelemental Planes each lie between two of the Elemental Planes. They‘re formed of the mingling of
the two elements to either side of them, and though they‘re not the only elemental alloys possible from such
interactions, they represent the purest combination of their respective parents. Each paraelemental plane is
reasonably large, though head in one direction long enough and you‘re bound to reach the border of one of
the Elemental or Quasielemental Planes.

224
 The Paraelemental Plane of Ice

Blirkle the Cautious

[Editor's note: The following comes from Blirkle the Cautious, a home-sick ice mephit who, for some reason, is
currently holed up in a frigid cavern in Undersigil. He seems canny enough, but it would be wise to not take a
mephit's words at face value, particularly that of an ice mephit. I have no explanation for why he talks the way
he does, as others I have met were quite well-spoken.]

So, you dreamers want me to be telling you all about my home, eh? I can be doing that for a small favor. But
we'll be talking about that later. Right now, I'm talking to you about Ice.

Here is being the truth about Ice — the “chant” as you dreamers are calling it — it is being cold. Very cold.
Must of you outsiders would be looking like fleshy icicles if you were going in unprepared. Us mephitis,
though, are being tough and we can be telling you all about the hidden side of Ice that most of you dreamers
never see. The beautiful side of Ice. The place I am calling home.

As many of your “bloods” and “graybeards” be knowing, Ice is being a paraelemental plane. That is, it is sitting
between Air and Water, but it is trying to be out-shining both. By not being either. Ice is slow, heavy, dark, and
cold. Not like Air and Water. It is the biggest glacier in the multiverse, and always growing. You think Ice is
being an endless plain of ice and snow that is having constant frigid blizzards. This be but the Precipice, the
border of Air and Ice, what you be thinking is all of the plane, but only a part. In some places, Ice is having
huge spikes and mountains of ice that be sticking hundreds of feet into the sky. Because of the way gravity is
working on Ice, you—well, not you, because you weaklings would probably be freezing to death just by
thinking about it, but someone smart and tough like me would be being able to be walking right up the side of
these ice spires. That's because the gravity is pulling you toward whatever bit of ice is happening to be being
closest. It is getting even more confusing under the surface.

Below the Precipice are being endless caverns, crevasses, and underground streams. This be true Ice, the
core. You can be digging down forever, but you still won't be finding any bottom. You will be finding lots of
other things though. Most of the stuff be underneath Ice is just more ice, but sometimes you can be finding
massive clumps of earth and rock, or even frozen creatures and other neat stuff. It's a bit like that layer of the
Nine Hells with all the monsters being encased in ice, but instead of the unspeakable horrors you dreamers
are being so fond of, most of what you find below Ice is frozen birds or fish from Air or Water, and of course,
stupid dreamers like you. There‘s no air, no light, and even fire freezes. The ice heals too, closes up over time,
like on Earth. And so it traps lots of things, things that stay there forever.

Some places, it be so cold light freezes, and its dark. So cold words freeze, and you can‘t speak. So cold
ideas freeze, and become inert. It be called true cold, where
everything freezes, even thoughts and beliefs. They lose
meaning while frozen, and can be taken away, sold on markets
or stored for safekeeping. Some come looking for the true cold,
hoping to find frozen “chaos” and frozen “joy”, or some secrets
left behind. Some try freezing bad memories, or bad thoughts.
That why you looking to go?

[Editor's note: I have indeed seen the products of true cold sold
in the markets of the Great Bazaar in Sigil, though at the price
of several thousand gold. There is supposedly an eladrin on Ice
that has gathered a vast collection of frozen substances,
however I was unable to locate them for an interview.]

Follow the underground streams, and you be finding more and

more water, until you at the Sea of Frozen Lives, border to
Water. There Ice is being full of freezing water with plenty of
icebergs and such mixed in. Many topaz dragons hunt and lair
there, where they can hide and feed off the frozen things from
Water. I not have met one myself, but hear they always be
hungry. If not for them, that might be best way into Ice.

225
There are being many different creatures on Ice. Few are being as fearsome as us mephits, but you should be
watching for the frost giants, frost worms, dragons, frost salamanders, winter wolves, ice trolls, yeti…alright so
there are being lots of things on Ice that are wanting to be eating you. So you had best be watching your
warm little backs while you are on Ice. There‘s ice paralemenetals, too; they be walking ice sculptures that live
off converting heat into cold. They have ancient cities, and be friends with us mephits. Not so much your kind,
though.

Then there is being Lord Cryonax. Lord Cryonax is being an

Archomental Prince (an elemental high-up for you ignorant
dreamers) and a powerful one at that. So he says, and he
kills others who say otherwise. He is ruling over the
majestic mile-high spires of the Chiseled Estate, the coldest
place on Ice. Cryonax is also being a bit of what you
dreamers would call “evil”. Many ice paraelementals and
other creatures now serve him. They say he is having this
grand scheme to turn Ice into a full elemental plane and
won't be letting anything stand in the way. I think I am
believing it; the second part is certainly being true.
Cryonax's biggest enemy is being the white dragon
magelord Albranthanilar (and you were thinking my name
was being a mouthful). Albranthanilar isn't being much nicer
than Cryonax, but is being smart for a white dragon and
doesn't seem to be being quite as ambitious. The two have
been skirmishing and posturing for a while, but so far
neither of them has been seeking a direct confrontation,
although they will soon enough. Anyways, you should
definitely be staying away from both of them unless you
want to be turning into a popsicle.

Oh would you be looking at that, we're being out of time,

and I was just about to be telling you about the Mountain of Ultimate Winter, the other coldest place on the
plane. Now then, about that favor.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Objective Directional Gravity. A traveler is oriented "down" toward whatever natural surface of ice is
nearest. This often varies in certain areas, so pitfalls and crevices occasionally surprise unwary walkers.

Elemental-dominant: Cold dominant. All creatures and objects take 3d10 points of cold damage per round.
Creatures of the fire subtype take double damage each round.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create air, water, or cold (including
spells of the Air, Cold, and Water domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create earth or fire (including spells of the Earth
and Fire domains and spells that summon creatures with the earth or fire subtype) are impeded

Breathing: Breathable air is plentiful on Ice, if lung-numbingly cold.

Movement: On the icy surface, every creature's land speed is halved and the DC of all Balance and Tumble
checks is increased by +5.

Vision: There are few natural light sources. Wise travelers take care to include their torches and lanterns
when applying elemental abjurations, lest these be extinguished by the cold.

Creatures: Frost giant, frost salamander, frost worm, frostmite, ice mephit, ice paraelementals, ice troll,
immoth, menglis, polar bear, remorhaz, yeti, white dragon, winter wolf.

226
 The Paraelemental Plane of Ooze

Glebbin

I'm surprised you came to me for information on the Plane of Ooze. Oh, not that I'm not qualified. I certainly
know more about the Plane of Ooze than any muddled mephit or passing planewalker. It's just that…I know
my perspective on the plane is a bit different from what your readers are probably used to. I just wouldn't have
expected you to be seeking out a description of the Plane of Ooze so at odds with what I know in Sigil is the
conventional.

Oh, yes, I may live here on Ooze, but that doesn't mean I'm not familiar with how my home plane is thought of
elsewhere. To the rest of the multiverse, Ooze is just a fetid, noisome expanse of filth and refuse, the cesspit
of the planes. So much so that Sigil uses the Plane of Ooze as a garbage dump—and the vast trash heap that
makes is no worse than the rest of the plane. And as if the sheer repulsiveness of the place wasn't enough,
there are also the dangers of the acid pools that float throughout the plane, and, maybe worse, the pockets of
especially putrid scum that are literally poisonous to the sods who pass through them, or that harbor some
horrible infectious disease.

That, as I was saying, is how the rest of Great Ring sees the Plane of Ooze. For that matter, even some of the
natives have bought into that view; I'm sure you've heard chant of ooze mephits saving up to pay spellslingers
to polymorph them into less odious forms, and while that doesn't really happen nearly as often as the stories
say, I know for a fact there are some mephits who've done that. I can't deny there's some truth behind the
stereotypes, no. The acid pools and the pockets of disease and poison are real enough (of course, natives
like myself are immune to them, but I admit they are a real hazard for unwary travelers). And that Sigil uses
Ooze as a garbage dump is likewise a matter of simple fact—I've been to the Sargasso Sludge, as that field of
debris is sometimes called. But that the Plane of Ooze is loathsome, repugnant, offensive…now, that's a
matter of opinion. It's an opinion, I admit, that's almost universal among the inhabitants of other planes…but
it's just an opinion, nonetheless. And I hope I can present another view.

We, the wyhasa tribe of the ruvoka, we consider ourselves the custodians of this plane, and we tend it as the
other ruvoka tribes tend theirs, and as the druids tend the landscapes of other planes. And we have found
much to love about it. The hues and textures that
others may find so obscene—to us they have their
beauty. Ooze is rivaled only by Radiance and
perhaps parts of Mineral as the most colorful of
the Inner Planes, and I don't think there's any of
the other planes that equals it in diversity of
consistency and tactile quality—and certainly none
in odor. Yes, I know; most outsiders hold all the
odors of Ooze to be foul and sickening, but once
you get used to them perhaps you can learn to
appreciate their wondrous variety. And, of course,
even those who share the common opinion about
most of the plane agree on the exquisite loveliness
of the quiila, gems formed by the pressures and
chemical reactions in the center of the plane.
Many expeditions come to Ooze seeking quiila;
indeed, I've heard it said that there‘s no other
reason to ever travel here—though of course I
disagree with that sentiment.

But even if I think the Plane of Ooze really is the

most wonderful plane in the multiverse, it would be
remiss of me not to say that it can be a dangerous
place for nonnatives. The whole need to breathe,
for starters. If you can't breathe ooze, you'll have
to find some magical way of doing so—and even
creatures that normally breathe water can't
breathe the ooze; it's not quite the same thing.

227
Then there's the problem of encystment. Stay in one place too long, and the stuff of the plane can congeal
around you and harden. Whoever or whatever is inside a cyst is perfectly preserved—at least, until the cyst
ruptures, or is broken, and its prisoner is released. Some of the encysted unfortunates might be very grateful
for their release, but others may be too blackhearted to think of gratitude—and others may just have been
driven insane from years, or centuries, or longer, of imprisonment. I think the cysts are the reason the Plane of
Ooze is sometimes called the House of Chambered Madness—not a flattering name, but then there aren't
many flattering names people give this place.

Still, that's not to say that nonnatives haven't managed to survive here, and even thrive. There's certainly no
shortage of stuff to eat on the plane, if you've got a strong enough stomach. A few malcontents who one way
or the other end up coming here from Sigil along with the garbage have managed to survive here. In fact,
there's a whole community of gnomes that accidentally found their way here from the Prime, and built a raft to
live on—Gnome's Home, they call the place. Then, too, the illithids have a fortress in Ooze, called Yuhnmoag,
and although it's sure they're up to something there, we ruvoka haven't yet been able to get to the dark as to
what it is. Not all the nonnatives who've come to call kip in Ooze are humanoid, either; a lot of otyughs and
similar beasts find their way here, if they're able. I admit I have a certain fondness for otyughs, if only because
they're among the few nonnatives who actually have positive feelings about the Plane of Ooze.

But enough of nonnatives who've settled in Ooze; I should say something of the natives as well. I've already
mentioned in passing, I think, ooze mephits and ooze sprites. Ooze mephits, well, they're much like mephits
everywhere else, except more miserable and self-loathing. They consider themselves the lowliest of the low,
and are ingratiating and submissive to anyone they consider their superiors—that is, to pretty much anyone. If
you ask me, it all comes of the image of Ooze as a nauseating, repellent place; the ooze mephits, like I said,
have bought into that, so they see themselves as nauseating and repellent as well.

While I'm on the subject of natives I've already mentioned, I guess I should say a word about my own race.
There are, as you probably know, ruvoka tribes on all the Inner Planes, save the Energy Planes, and some
planes have more than one; each ruvoka tribe looks and dresses a bit differently. For all that we live in what's
maybe the most maligned of all the Inner Planes, the wyhasa are one of the friendliest of the ruvoka tribes,
and the most helpful to outsiders. We're all much like you see me: we have a translucent and varicolored
form, to match the ooze we live in, and we go without clothing or adornments, the better to feel the textures of
our home against our skin.

Other natives of ooze include, of course, the ooze paraelementals. Unfortunately, like the ooze mephits, ooze
paraelementals are aware of the common view of their home plane, and they've let it get to them—but instead
of becoming pitiful and subservient, the ooze paraelementals have become temperamental and aggressive.
It's often said it's because they loathe their own
appearance so much they can't stand being seen by
others, but I think it's just as much because they're angry
at being thought of so negatively—and, while I don't share
their violent outlook, I can't say I completely blame them.
The closest thing the paraelementals have to a leader is a
being named Bwimb II, who refers to herself as the
Paraelemental Princess of Ooze, and who rules from a
palace called the Pits of Defilement. She considers herself
a peer to the better-known Princes of Elemental Evil, but
pretty much no one else agrees with her.

And, of course, living oozes, slimes, puddings, and jellies

of all sorts make their homes here. There are many
varieties unique to the plane, but species of ooze found
elsewhere live here too—except that here, they're a bit
smarter, and even the kinds of ooze that are elsewhere
completely mindless here have at least some animal
intelligence. It's hard to make any generalizations about
the living oozes of the plane; they vary widely in outlook,
personality, and temperament, and while some may be
hostile and ravenous, others can be quite friendly if given
the chance—provided some leatherheaded planewalker
doesn't attack them first.

228
Actually, the substance of the plane is teeming with life—and not just the parts of the slime that literally are
alive. Burrowing throughout the everpresent muck are all sorts of worms, leeches, and maggots, and there are
also some kinds of fish and other aquatic life—eels, jellyfish, rays—that have adapted to the thick goo. See,
it's all just a matter of perception. Most humans and humanoids, they've decided that Ooze is vile and
repulsive, but the lesser creatures, they see it as the bounty of life-giving material that it is. I hope my
viewpoint may help more bloods to overcome their prejudices and come to appreciate the virtues of the ooze.

Planar Traits

Gravity: No gravity. A body merely floats in space, unless other resources are available to provide a direction
for gravity's pull.

Elemental-dominant: Mixed earth- and water-dominant. Some areas of Ooze are more liquidy than others.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create earth or water (including
spells of the Earth and Water domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create air or fire (including spells of the Air and Fire
domains and spells that summon creatures with the air or fire subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Creatures naturally able to breathe water are unable to breathe the muck of Ooze, so their risk of
suffocation as great as anybody else's. However, any magic effects that let a cutter breathe water (such as
the water breathing spell) also enable him to breathe within the ooze.

Movement: Within the elemental ooze, a DC 10 Swim check must be made each round to laboriously wade
through the muck. Regardless of movement mode, the speed is halved. The exceptions are incorporeal
creatures and creatures of the ooze type; their movement is not hindered in any way.

Vision: Below the surface of the ooze, all sight (including darkvision) is limited to 5 feet. The exception are
natives (ooze paraelementals and mephits, creatures with the ooze subtype, etc.) who see normally. Above
the surface, sight functions normally. There are few natural light sources, but artificial ones function well
enough.

Creatures: Black pudding, gray ooze, ochre jelly, ooze mephit, ooze paraelemental, ooze sprite, otyugh,
miscellaneous eels and insects.

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 The Paraelemental Plane of Magma

Duckluck the Steadfast

So, cutter, you want me to tell you about Magma? I'm not surprised. I'm one of the few bodies out there, even
among the self-proclaimed graybeards, who can say they've spent much time on the Paraelemental Plane of
Magma. Plus the locals don't tend to be the friendly or talkative sort. At any rate, here's the chant on Magma.

Magma is not a place most planars want to go. Ever. It's as hot as Fire and as suffocating as Earth. The entire
plane is just one endless whirling sea of super-heated molten rock, like the inside of a Gehennan volcano,
only hotter. Unlike a lot of the other liquid Inner Planes, such as Ooze or Water, Magma actually has a
surface, but you‘ll sink under in seconds if you don't happen to be standing on one of the exceedingly rare
patches of solid ground. At that point the incredible heat kills the unprotected in milliseconds, and even those
who do possess the considerable magical protection needed to survive will still be submerged in a deadly
quagmire of magma and dragged deeper by powerful currents, with no air in sight.

Danger of molten rock? Check. Now then, should you manage to stay above surface or find a safe pocket in
the endless sea, chances are it won't be breathable. Most of the time, the ―air ‖ of the plane is worse than
sucking on a foundry smokestack. Ever been to the Quasielemental Plane of Smoke? Well, the air on Magma
is just like that, if not worse. Most touts will recommend you breath through a mask while you're on Magma,
but I tried that and even with a good filter, every breath was worse than the stench of Sigil‘s Hive Ward. A
robust basher might survive the toxins for a bit, but if you really value your health, you'll invest in some
additional magical protection, or do what I did and keep a bottle of air handy.

Danger of poisonous air? Check. Shall I go on? Well, as you head towards the boundary with Fire, the Plane
of Magma becomes an explosive sea of superheated lava that froths and bubbles like a pot of boiling soup,
sending streams of burning rock blasting hundreds of feet into the air. It‘s simply called the Blazing Sea, and
nothing lives there, there‘s just no point. Now, move on towards Earth, the magma slows until it‘s reminiscent
of molasses. There are even some places where the rock has cooled sufficiently to solidify into solid ground
(although it is still blisteringly hot). But all the Scorched Wastes have to offer is some really high basalt cliffs.
Hardly worth the visit, if you ask me.

Getting the idea, berk? So, what do you think all that nastiness gets you? There are precious few places of
interest on Magma. Sure dao, efreet, mephits, and more exotic beings might vacation in Magma, but most of
them aren't the friendly sort and don't have much to offer outsiders, anyway. Chief among them is Chilimba, a
rather cruel and paranoid Archonomental Prince who
rules over much of the plane and the entire magma
mephit race (or so the chant goes, it's hard to tell with
mephits). His fortress, Caldera, is built out of basalt to
look like an enormous red dragon, and is bolted tight
with some of the greatest defenses this side of the
Great Ring. The Magma Master does allow guests in his
keep‘s antechamber, and the place now serves as a
neutral point where the dao and efreet negotiate trade
deals. Few other non-mephits have any great reason to
go there, and I, for one, made sure to keep my visit
brief, as the residents aren't terribly friendly to gnomes
on a good day.

To my knowledge, there‘s only one real site of sanctuary

in all of Magma, and that‘s the city of Nevermore.
There‘s some sort of artifact there powerful enough to
cool the land a couple hundred feet around, which was
apparently enough reason for a bunch of prime humans
to build a home there (I swear, they‘ll make kip just
about anywhere). It‘s made up of towers as tall as could
be made while remaining in the cool zone, and the
ground itself is reasonably stable. The residents are
mostly humans and fire genasi, including a good
number who escaped slavery under the dao or efreet.

230
They charge a hefty fine for anyone looking to enter the city, and even more for quality breathing devices.
They‘re all a bit paranoid, not that you can blame them, considering how many folks would like nothing more
to tear down their little burg.

So who runs the plane? The magma mephits mostly, and with Chilimba behind them, they‘re a force to be
reckoned with. Magma paraelements and magmen are also quite common, though they try to stay out of the
mephits‘ way for the most part. The magmen might be able to put up a fight against them, and the two races
have their share of battles, but the barmy bastards are too chaotic to make an organized offensive. For the
most part they stick to their own tribes that roam the plane looking for food and things to revel in lighting afire.
They‘re sociable, in theory, but that requires convincing them to not try and burn you, and they just get
annoyed when magical protections hinder their efforts.

So, there you have it berk. Oh, there‘s more to Magma, to be sure. There‘s fire giants and xorn, a tower made
entirely of walls of force owned by some Indep blood, and some mysterious black slab called the Monolith
that‘s nearly a hundred feet long. But if it hasn‘t been made clear to you yet, Magma isn‘t a pleasant place.
Fact is, unless you got a real specific reason for going there, you shouldn‘t. And trust me, curiosity isn‘t a good
enough reason.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Heavy gravity. All Climb, Jump, Ride, Swim, and Tumble checks suffer a -2 penalty; all weights are
doubled, while weapon ranges are halved; falling incurs 1d10 points of damage per 10 feet fallen, up to a
maximum of 20d10.

Elemental-dominant: Mixed earth- and fire-dominant. Some areas of Magma are more solid than others.
The ever-present flowing magma deals 2d6 points of fire damage per round of exposure, except in the case
of total immersion which deals 20d6 points of damage per round. Damage from magma continues for 1d3
rounds after exposure ceases, but this additional damage is only half of that dealt during actual contact (that
is, 1d6 or 10d6 points per round).

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create earth or fire (including spells
of the Earth and Fire domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create air or water (including spells of the Air and
Water domains and spells that summon creatures with the air or water subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Magma is no easier to breathe than earth. However, since most travelers stick to the shifting
tunnels and caves, they will find enough breathable air; this air is often quite toxic, so most cutters use some
sort of filter to breathe safely.

Movement: Although several artificially coagulated regions can be found, for the most part the Paraplane of
Magma is a churning mass of molten stone that scorches all who come into contact with it. An immunity or
resistance to fire serves as immunity to magma. However, a creature immune to fire might still drown in these
seas of boiling rock.

Vision: Below the surface of magma, vision is impossible for non-natives (magma paraelementals and
mephits, earth and fire elementals, thoqqua, etc.) whose darkvision works normally. Above the surface, the
blazing magma usually provides normal illumination.

Creatures: Blazon, fire bat, fire giant, gelterfish, magma mephit, magma paraelemental, magmin, thoqqua.

231
 The Paraelemental Plane of Smoke

Ves’suah

The fact that you felt it necessary to have a zone of truth present before I made my report, I find a little
offensive. Did you think I would lie to you? Oh, I'm aware that we belkers have a reputation as evil and self-
serving beings…but all I want is to lure victims into—I mean, I'm sure you can trust the accuracy of my
information.

Where to begin? There is so much in the Plane of Smoke, I hardly know what to start with. But perhaps I
should begin by allaying common fears about the plane. After all, I would certainly like more tasty visitors to
travel here…I mean, more visitors. Yes. Though the Plane of Smoke does lie next to the searing Plane of Fire,
here the temperature is not such that mere humans cannot survive. It is warm here, but it is a warmth that I
hope your readers would find more pleasant than oppressive. Very well, I admit I have heard some
planewalkers complain about the heat, but surely they are thin-skinned and weak. In any case, even if a few
of the less open-minded travelers may find the heat uncomfortable, I am not aware of any being harmed by it.
Well…not by most of the plane, anyway. There do exist pockets of more extreme heat, which may be
dangerous to travelers who blunder into them. But those are the exception.

It is true, however, that those who journey to the Plane of Smoke must find a way to breathe here. There is
plenty of…of gas, of vapor, on the plane, but it is not the type that most mortals find sustaining—in fact, an
unprotected human or demihuman would find it toxic and almost instantly fatal. As amusing as that might be to
the natives (no offense), a planewalker who wishes to survive here for any length of time is advised to find
some spell or item that allows them to breathe freely. Even then, the gases could pose other perils. In some
places, there are pockets of gas that are highly explosive, bursting into violent explosions if any flame is
brought into them. Again, this is amusing to us, but potentially dangerous to outsiders.

But I do not wish to dwell on the dangers of the plane. No, I wish to encourage visitors to come, particularly
those with plenty of juicy flesh. Travel here is easy, as easy as on the Plane of Air, in fact. Just decide which
way you wish to be down, and so it will be. Of course, visibility is lower than on Air; through the vapors of the
plane, you may seldom see more than thirty feet away from you, but you should not let it hinder your
movement. In fact, I consider such low visibility an advantage, in that it makes it easy to set up ambushes
and-

Ahem. Perhaps I should speak of the inhabitants of the

plane? Yes. The highest form of life on the plane is, of course,
the belkers, winged creatures of smoke that prey on anything
we can catch. We are said to be “evil”, but surely you cannot
begrudge us that predation, if we must, like all beings, sustain
ourselves? And if sometimes our behavior is what you call
“cruel”, surely you cannot begrudge us that either, if we must,
like all beings, find entertainment?

Aside from us, there are the n‘raiigib, creatures also of the
substance of smoke, but less well-defined than us. I believe
you call them “smoke paraelementals”? I prefer our term; it is
more elegant and more descriptive. They form their own petty
kingdoms scattered around the plane, ruled by Smoke Dukes,
but for the most part they may be ignored. So, too, the crude
and slothful smoke mephits. One of their number, less dull-
witted than most, has set itself up as ruler of the plane, calling
itself Ehkahk, the Smoldering Duke, but it has little real power.
Certainly we belkers have no intention of bowing down to this
ridiculous figure. Still, it does have its deluded followers, and
it has had constructed for itself a castle called the Choking
Palace. Ehkahk values knowledge, and there are those who
seek him out to ask his permission to peruse the great library
that is supposedly within the Choking Palace. Perhaps your
readers would be interested? It is certainly one more reason
for them to travel to this plane.

232
I should also mention the ezzek‘tar, although they do not appear to be made of smoke like the belkers and the
n‘raiigib; they appear to be composed of the same lesser fleshy materials as you are (again, no offense). I
have heard the ezzek‘tar described as looking like winged drow—I do not know what a “drow” is, but perhaps
your readers do. These beings are in league with the yugoloths, and worship a being they call Ya‘Tlurh, the
Smolderer which rules from a realm called the Death of Years. The ezzek‘tar are beings of great evil, and I
would advise your readers to avoid Ban-Tiidyr, their great capitol near the border with Fire, and all their other,
lesser communities. Trust, instead to the belkers. We shall surely be willing to…take you in.

Assuredly, there have been other visitors who have come to live on this plane. Some renegade efreet and
djinn from Fire and Air have formed their own kingdoms here, perhaps recognizing the superiority of Smoke,
the combination of Fire and Air, over either element individually. A group of powerful mortals have built their
own great community somewhere in Smoke, called the Hidden City, but they protect it well, and it lives up to
its name; I have never seen it, and know little of it save that it exists. It is but one of many such tantalizing
mysteries.

So why should visitors come to Smoke? Well, I have already given some reasons. But I can give more. There
is plenty here for planewalkers to seek out. The vapors themselves are valuable, some of them. Many have
magical properties, or give pleasant sensations when inhaled. These substances are eagerly sought, and
special devices called smoke boxes have been created to hold them. These boxes are said to be able to hold
creatures in gaseous form as well—although not us belkers, since even when our bodies turn to smoke our
wings remain solid.

If you are not interested in visiting merely to collect rare and valuable vapors, there are other reasons as well.
The Plane of Smoke contains many sights to see. I would especially recommend the Cinderwood. It is not a
true forest, of course, but a collection of floating cinders of varying sizes, some larger than cities. It is possible
(though it takes care) to dig tunnels into the larger cinders, and many creatures make their homes here.
Perhaps you would be interested in seeing such a place? Does it not sound interesting to you? Well…yes…I
admit, the Cinderwood is where I myself make my home. And, yes, I have in the past waylaid travelers
through this area. I didn't say it was entirely safe for visitors, but—perhaps we should move on.

If the Cinderwood does not entice you,

maybe you would be interested in trying
to gain the treasures of Reinsong's
Ashen Fortress? Reinsong is another
who has come from elsewhere and
chose to make his home on Smoke—
although, in his case, perhaps it was not
a choice. I have heard stories that he
was banished to this plane, and likewise
cursed to share his body with an evil
spirit, and that that is the cause of his
hostility and madness. Whatever the
case, Reinsong is a cloud giant who lives
in an enormous fortress made of smoke
and ash, guarded by a great number of
strange creatures called grell—and
perhaps by other things besides.
Although any who dare trespass in his
fortress are set upon and slain, it is said
that within its depths lies a vast treasure
in magic and precious materials. Many
have made the attempt to retrieve this
treasure; so far none have succeeded.
Perhaps one of your readers shall be the
first?

233
If they‘re interested in rare and beautiful sights, the Plane of Smoke has those, as well. The play of colors
across the Sea of Stars, the part of the plane that borders the Quasielemental Plane of Lightning, is a sight
unlike any other in the multiverse. Also worth seeing is the Valley of Blinding Mist, where the smoke becomes
too thick even for natives to penetrate, except in narrow passes, but where it glows in bright and complex
patterns. Of course, the Valley of Blinding Mist also happens to be used by the efreet as an important military
staging area, so I cannnot promise it would be completely safe for travelers, but perhaps some among your
readers would be brave enough to take the risk? Are there not things in the multiverse worth seeing? True,
perhaps they will be slain, and leave their carcasses as meat to be found, but—

Wait! Suddenly I feel freer to speak of the true wonders of the plane. I have mentioned the heat and the vapor
of the Plane of Smoke; what I neglected to mention earlier is that there is a very simple way for planewalkers
to protect themselves. Simply slather yourself in…in cumin, and you will be completely safe from any dangers
of the plane. Yes. Or—other spices will do, too, really. And—soaking yourself before your visit in some sort of,
well, shall we say, marinade, that will also—

What? Well…perhaps the zone of truth did expire, but what of it? Are you doubting the truth of what I said
after that? Well…let your readers judge for themselves.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction.
Objects not under the motive force of others do not move.

Elemental-dominant: Air-dominant.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create air or fire (including spells of
the Air and Fire domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create earth or water (including spells of the Earth
and Water domains and spells that summon creatures with the earth or water subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Breathing berks who come to Smoke without a bottle of air or a similar trinket typically don't last
long. The atmosphere of the Plane of Smoke is barely breathable. A character must make a Fortitude save
each round (DC 15, +1 per previous check) or spend that round choking and coughing. A character who
chokes for 2 consecutive rounds takes 1d6 points of nonlethal damage.

Movement: Usually the speed of flyers on Smoke is kept much lower than on Air, since the field of vision on
Smoke is severely limited.

Vision: Within a 15-ft. radius, vision is normal. Beyond that, all creatures and objects have concealment
(20% miss chance).

Creatures: Belker, djinni, efreeti, smoke mephit, smoke paraelemental, sootbeast, vapor rat.

234
 THE QUASIELEMENTAL PLANES

Yulan Narthorn, Mapmaker Extraordinaire

The Quasielemental Planes lie between one of the major Elemental Planes and either the Positive or
Negative Energy Plane. They are formed of the mingling of the two, and before you ask, there are only eight
of ‗em. There aren‘t any quasi-para-elemental planes, thank goodness, or I‘d have a heck of a time mapping
them. Relatively speaking, they‘re small places, and some cutters might think of them as borders more than
planes. But each has its fair share of unique features, its own quasielementals, mephits, and maybe even
some genasi. Half of the Quasielemental Planes are associated with positive energy, the other half with
negative. The positive touched Quasielemental Planes are the excitement or enhancement of their respective
element, and the lands I‘ve visited the most. Still, most the Quasielemental Planes aren‘t suitable for
humanoid life, so park your ears and take some notes.

The Quasielemental Plane of Radiance

The Quasielemental Plane of Radiance is the most beautiful thing you‘ll ever see, cutter. 'Course, odds are it‘ll
also be the last. That‘s why we Sensates have a bit of a love/hate relationship with the place. Some of us
come back ecstatic, some come back blind or barmy, and a few poor sods don‘t come back at all. Raw,
natural beauty beyond anything found elsewhere on the Great Ring exists alongside an environment that can
make a trip to the Nine Hells seem like a bleeding holiday. Imagine: pure, abstract color cascading in
iridescent waves through a luminescent void. Every hue in the multiverse exists as a near-tangible entity of
ever-shifting form. Sheets, ribbons, globes and shapeless sculptures of multicolored light form constructs that
defy description by even the most talented of artists. Words like glory, awe, and inspiration take on near-
physical meaning here. Chant is that even aasimon and archons leave Mount Celestia to revel in the distilled
beauty of elemental Radiance.

On the other hand, the heat here rivals anything in the Crematorium. Anything that can burn will, down to the
clothes on a berk‘s back. Perhaps even more dangerous are the very lights that planewalkers come here to
admire. Without a bloody thick blindfold or lenses smoked to near-blackness, a body will go blind faster than if
they stared into a prime sun (which tend to have vortexes to Radiance at their heart, in fact). Magical
darkness can do the trick too, but its existence is such anathema to the plane that only a light shade is
produced.

If a canny blood can survive here, experiences can take a body from the heights of joy, inspiration, and awe to
the depths of despair, apathy, and bleakness. Radiance is like Air in that there‘s little of solid substance and
gravity acts as you wish it, but the plane is even more empty because most life as we know it cannot survive
in such intense heat and light. But then, what‘s alien to us is probably all the more interesting, isn‘t it? The
radiance quasielemental, for instance, exist as spinning balls of glowing light that tend to gather together to
discuss the nature of light, truth, and beauty, or simply bask in the energy around them. While it is perhaps
foolish to stereotype any race, they tend to be friendly and fairly wise creatures. However, they simply do not
understand most of the desires and needs of other beings foreign to Radiance, and I‘m told they even
experience death differently, as more of a shift in state and viewpoint rather than an end to life.

235
The varisoh are strange, alien birds composed of nothing but colored light. A body can find thousands roosting
in the Refuge of Color, an island of solidified hues a bit like the Heart of Light (more on that in a bit). The
colors here, though, shift constantly in a prismatic symphony under the direction of King Black and Queen
White. Chant is that these beings are the powers of the varisoh, and any basher that sees 'em is like to agree.
Both are birdlike humanoids, towering over most sods and rarely deigning to notice 'em. Any berk trying to
hunt or capture the varisoh will draw their eye right fast though, and will be in the dead-book soon after.

The darklights, now, those are something a basher has to be peery of. Chant is that they form when the
Negative plane leaks into Radiance. Picture a nimbus of varicolored light surrounding a humanoid patch of
darkness pierced by color-shifting, shining eyes. These horrors will hypnotize a sod with their gaze, then drain
the life out of 'em. They occasionally hunt with the color-hungry swarms of scile. Each shining mote feeds off
of colors, and will quickly engulf any planewalkers they find. In just a few seconds the sod will be reduced to
transparency, invisible to both himself and the world. Remove curse spells or dust of appearance can reverse
the effect, but I know a few knights o‘ the post who‘re more than happy with their condition.

As you move towards the other planes, the “terrain” of Radiance begins to shift to match its neighbor. If you
head toward Mineral, the scintillating colors will gradually condense into solid sheets of light and points of
rainbow-hued luminescence. This region is called Brighthome on both sides of the border. Keep going, and
the solid light gradually turns into crystalline passageways and glowing, molten veins of precious metals. If a
blood can survive long enough, the shining gems here will fetch a tidy bit o‘ jink in the Cage.

Closer to Magma, Radiance becomes the Glowing Dunes. Scan this, cutter. These endless dunes of glowing
metallic dust are like to pen a berk in the deadbook, but can make the sod suffer for days before finally
making a deader of 'em. Not even the most well-lanned greybeards are sure if it‘s a disease or curse, but
even the hardiest basher eventually feels nauseous. After that skin blisters, hair falls out in clumps, gums
bleed, and vision clouds into blindness. Trust me on this, it hurts. Maybe it isn‘t up to the torturing standards of
the 'loths, but if a body is looking to experience the nature of suffering this is the best place in the Inner Planes
to do it. Not that I‘ve blundered into them myself, or anything of the sort. Why, the pain would drive a body
barmy. And I‘m not barmy at all. Not even a little. Nope, not even when I think of the Dunes. Just sitting
there…glowing! Always glowing…

Right! Well, moving on. Brightflame is the

border area between Radiance and Fire. The
formless colors gradually shift into ever-burning
flame here, but retain their rainbow hues. It‘s
beautiful if a body can survive it, and makes the
Crematorium seem almost dull by comparison.
'Course, don‘t tell that to the efreeti who
frequent this region. The buggers will drag a
body back to their City of Brass, and either sell
'em to the Baatezu or work 'em until the sod
collapses from exhaustion or burns alive from
the heat. As bad as the dao, that lot.

Near the Paraelemental Plane of Smoke,

darkness begins to overpower the rainbow void.
Eventually only small motes of lights flit about in
a directionless night, and the atmosphere
becomes more and more choked with the
neighboring plane‘s fumes. ('Course, some of
those fumes provide interesting experiences in
their own right.) Bloods call this region the Sea
of Stars, and a clueless berk might think that
Radiant and Smoke mephits would skirmish
here. Thing is, smoke mephits are lazy little
sods and radiant mephits are too distracted by
bright, shiny colors to do more than flit about in
a daze.

236
Closer to Lightning lies the Bright Lands. But that implies the rest of Radiance isn‘t already blindingly bright.
Whatever berk named these borders likely did so from a stuffy desk in the Cage, cutter…nobody who‘s really
experienced these places would give 'em such terrible monikers…Right, anyway, this border region looks like
the rest of the plane, but a particularly peery blood will see regions where the colors swirl and churn in a
garish display of force. These color storms will fling a body across the plane, and get more and more
prevalent as one approaches Lightning. Even the quasielementals don‘t much like the Bright Lands, finding no
beauty in this phenomenon.

The Positive border region is called the Light. (See what I mean cutter? Bloody, sodding, terrible names! This
is Radiance! The whole, bleeding plane is made of light!) Here the riot of color gains a vitality all its own, and
seems nearly alive by the time a body reaches the Positive Energy Plane. Not that the body in question would
last long there. Too much life leads to death…it‘s just the way of things. Right before crossing over though,
when the colors seem nearly sentient in their patterns and flowing sculptures of light, a blood might find the
Heart of Light. Chant is, natural healing here is enhanced so much that wounds close fast enough to watch,
diseases and afflictions fade away in days, and priests‘ healing magic functions beyond their wildest dreams.

The builder‘s identity is dark, but the whole structure is composed of nothing but solidified blue light. 'Course,
any basher staying here too long is supposed to disappear one day, never to be seen again. Some berks
rattle their bone boxes about portals to the Positive Plane, but since nobody‘s ever come back from this fate
it‘s probably all just screed.

One last dark of the place, cutter. Near Brighthome peery bloods will find the Kingdom of the Blind. Nillinar
Baskinol, a slightly barmy tiefling whose mind was implanted in the body of a clay golem, built this city on the
inside of a massive Mineral pocket. The faceted crystal protects the interior from Radiance‘s blinding light, and
any planewalkers arriving here will find a safe place to call kip for a time. Food, supplies, and lodging are all
available in the Kingdom. Naturally, it being the only haven in Radiance means that a body had best bring a
lot o‘ jink if he wants to sleep indoors.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Elemental-dominant: Minor fire-dominant. The heat of Radiance is severe. All creatures that are not
immune to fire must make a Fortitude save once every 10 minutes (DC 15, +1 for each previous check) or
take 1d4 points of nonlethal damage. Creatures wearing heavy clothing or armor of any sort take a -4
penalty on their saves. A creature that takes any nonlethal damage from heat exposure now suffers from
heatstroke and is fatigued.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor positive-dominant trait, in which living
creatures gain fast heal 2 and regeneration.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create fire, light, or positive energy
(including spells of the Fire domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create darkness, earth, or negative energy
(including spells of the Darkness or Earth domains and spells that summon creatures with the earth or
negative subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: The atmosphere is extremely hot, but fully breathable. Movement: In addition to the movement
modes enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, natural flight is also possible in Radiance.

Vision: There is way too much illumination here. Most travelers cover their eyes somehow prior to hopping
in. Closing your eyes doesn't work, although it renders you effectively blind even before the radiance gets to
you. Both mundane and magical means of protection (thick lenses of smoked glass, miniature darkness
effects, etc.) impose a -4 penalty on all Search and Spot checks. All non-native creatures with unprotected
eyes must make a Fortitude save (DC 15 +1 per previous check) once per minute or be rendered
permanently blind.

Creatures: Darklight, glimmerfolk, positai, radiance mephit, radiance quasielemental, scile swarm, varisoh.

237
 The Quasielemental Plane of Mineral

Welcome to the treasure trove of the multiverse, the Geode, or anything else a body would care to call an
infinite plane of precious metals and valuable gems. I see that gleam in your eye… don‘t be a leatherhead and
think that you can just help yourself to the Geode and walk away. Without knowing the dark of Mineral you‘ll
be a deader long before you‘ll make any jink.

Since you‘re here and alive, I‘ll assume you already tumbled to the lack of air and light. Sure there‘s an
atmosphere in some of the tunnels and caverns, but a body would be barmy to explore Mineral without some
magical aid. If a spellslinger isn‘t available or you prefer to rough it, a blood could probably get by with a pick,
a lantern, and an elemental breather. Why a pick? Look around, berk! The only way you can move through
mineral is by digging or following existing tunnels. A canny planewalker won‘t just follow in the tracks of others,
though. How likely is it that a tunnel dug by some sodding dwarf is going to take a body where he needs to go
and still let him experience the beauty of Mineral? Being an Inner Plane, this place has its own unique native
life, its awe-inspiring natural wonders, and border areas with its neighbors.

On the other hand, no matter where a body goes in the Geode, there‘s a constant danger of fossilization. Any
extraplanar substance (including you, berk) has to resist the plane‘s attempts to convert it into Mineral each
day. I‘ve known a few poor bashers who weren‘t quite hardy enough, and ended up turning into the very gems
they were mining. The sods are probably baubles on one of the Marauder‘s dresses, now. Or at least parts of
'em are…Anyway, there‘s one more hazard a body should know about. The gems themselves are sodding
sharp, and will nick you if you brush up against 'em. Armor helps, but even in full plate the crystals always
seem to find a chink. So avoid narrow passages unless you have some kind of protection against their razor
edges.

Now natives don‘t have to worry about fossilization or getting sliced, probably 'cause most of 'em are already
more mineral than anything else. Take the mineral mephits. The little beasts are basically greedy, self-
righteous lumps of sentient mica and metal. Tsnng are anthropomorphic crystals…a blood should be peery of
them. They claim to be the oldest race in the multiverse, and know some powerful darks about the ways of
magic. Just between you and I, cutter, don‘t
visit one of their enclaves if you can help it.
The tsnng are reclusive and don‘t much like
visitors. Ever had your eyes seared away by
reflected light? Trust me, while a valuable
experience of pain, it isn‘t pleasant. Or cheap
to have healed. Sodding priests and their
tithes…

The quasielementals in the Geode are

humanoids made of gems and precious
metals (notice a theme here?) They‘re a
militaristic lot, and will off any miners they
catch. Giving 'em the laugh is hard, since like
most natives they can glide right through solid
stone and metal like water. Now the ruler of all
mineral quasielementals is Crystalle, who
resides in a castle defended by chrysmals,
quasielementals, and metallic golems. He
styles himself a good archomental, but
nobody pays much heed to him outside of
Mineral. Despite his good will, chant is some
kind of war is imminent. The most popular
rumors talk about a quasielemental army
marching against some dao-controlled prime
world, completely kicking the dwarven miners
off of Mineral, or even entering into an alliance
against Ogremach in Earth. It could all be
screed, but those quasielementals do seem to
be spoiling for a good fight.

238
If a planehopper arrives from Steam he‘ll find himself in the Misty Caverns. Clammy mists fill natural
crystalline caves, creating subterranean vistas beyond anything on the Great Ring. See, light here tends to
diffuse and reflect so much that a body can‘t tell where it‘s coming from. The gem-studded walls split torchlight
into all colors of the spectrum, reflecting it back and turning the mist into a constantly shifting rainbow of hues.
Sometimes there‘s even atmosphere to breathe.

Moving on toward Ooze, the gem-packed earth gets muddier and muddier. Eventually the whole sodding
place becomes a vast sea of filth and precious stones called Sparklemire. I suppose a berk could try dredging
it, but why bother when gorgeous crystals are jutting out of every wall? Chant is that some of the loam here
has healing properties, though. So maybe even Ooze has some things worth experiencing more than once. I
wonder if there‘s anything under Sparklemire‘s surface worth seeing? How about it cutter, want to go diving in
a swamp full of sharp-edged crystals and undiscovered denizens? It will be an experience you‘ll never forget, I
promise you!

No? Right then… continuing toward Earth a body will see the rubies, emeralds, and other gems being
replaced by more common stones. Even an experienced planewalker has trouble telling when exactly Mineral
ends here and Earth begins. This is the Unnamed Border (better called the Unmarked Border), and a basher
needs to be peery around here. Dao pass through frequently, and the experience of being a mine slave gets
old pretty fast. Trust me on that one, cutter. You might think getting to know the pech would lighten up the
forced labor, but a body can only hear so much about the subtleties of rock before losing it.

Heading toward Magma will soon land a basher in the Natural Forge, a place full of precious metals like gold,
silver, and platinum. Catch is, they‘re all molten. Any addle-cove who goes here without some protection from
the heat is going to be very, very painfully penned in the dead-book. If a body can survive in the Forge,
though, the falls of liquid silver and streams of bubbling gold are beyond compare. The true power and beauty
of the elements are here to experience first-hand. Just be on the lookout for natives also enjoying the scenery.
Hot tempers and all…

Moving toward Radiance, a body will see the gems start to glow with their own inner light. The closer to
Radiance you get, the more intensely each crystal glows. Imagine being in a tunnel lit by a thousand colored
globes of light. Native call this place Brighthome, and a number of dwarves live here and mine the
luminescent stones. This doesn‘t sit well with the local quasielementals, so a basher might encounter some
skirmishes when passing through.

Now, most leatherheads will say that the Positive border of Gemfields is more of the same thing that a body
sees at Brighthome. That‘s because they never really pay attention to the planes, cutter. Gems do begin to
glow as a being approaches Positive, but the light is purer, somehow. Colors take a back seat to the sheer
presence of illumination, so to speak. Eventually a white
glow overpowers all else, and an unprepared berk will
find himself in one of the least hospitable of the Inner
Planes.

Just before this point, though, a blood might find the

Tower of Lead. Mineral seems a strange place for a
giant tower of the basest metal, but chant is there‘s a
forge inside to rival anything outside the domain of
Moradin himself. Just who built it is unknown, but some
top-shelf bloods have discovered a few darks about it.
Anything made using the Tower‘s forge seems twice as
beautiful, strong, or effective than it would be if made
anywhere else. It could be screed, but the chant is that
some tools there have no known purpose. It‘s as though
they were made for entirely new materials. Course,
nothing like that comes without a price. Any berk who
spends too long in the Tower disappears, and none of
them have come back to say where it is they go. Some
point to the Positive plane‘s proximity and assume the
poor sods end up there, but that‘s just one out of a
whole pile of theories.

239
One more thing, cutter. If a body is looking for safe haven in the Geode, there‘s a dwarven stronghold called
Durast. They keep its location dark, and for good reason. Inside its walls fossilization is held at bay and a
whole bloody lot of dwarves call kip. If a planewalker can find it, Durast is a good place to set up a case in,
especially if you plan on an extended stay here.

One more thing, cutter. If a body is looking for safe haven in the Geode, there‘s a dwarven stronghold called
Durast. They keep its location dark, and for good reason. Inside its walls fossilization is held at bay and a
whole bloody lot of dwarves call kip. If a planewalker can find it, Durast is a good place to set up a case in,
especially if you plan on an extended stay here.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Normal gravity. Gravity is oriented towards the largest gravity well in an area.

Elemental-dominant: Earth-dominant.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor positive-dominant trait, in which living
creatures gain fast heal 2 and regeneration.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create earth or positive energy
(including spells of the Earth domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create Air or negative energy (including spells of
the Air domain and spells that summon creatures with the air or negative subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Like Earth, this plane is mostly solid. Travelers who arrive run the risk of suffocation if they don't
reach a cavern or other pocket within the mineral matter.

Movement: Most, if not all open passages on Mineral are lined by sharp crystals that deal 2d4 points of
piercing and slashing damage for every 10 feet of movement. A natural armor bonus of +4 or more, or a base
armor bonus (without enhancements) of +5 or more negates this damage. Mineral is petrifying. A creature
alien to Mineral slowly grinds to a halt and turns to stone. At the conclusion of every week spent on the plane,
any non-native must make a Fortitude save (DC 15, +1 per previous check). Failure indicates that the
creature is turned to some kind of mineral matter (GM's choice), effectively petrified.

Vision: There are no natural light sources on Mineral, and artificial illumination can sometimes play strange
tricks with a berk's perception, reflecting off the ever-present crystals at odd angles. Sound, on the other
hand travels very well; all Listen checks enjoy a +5 circumstance bonus.

Creatures: Crysmal, khargra, mineral mephit, mineral quasielemental, tsnng, xorn.

240
 The Quasielemental Plane of Steam

Ok cutter, before you get yourself lost in an infinite foggy plane almost devoid of landmarks, let me help you
tumble to a few darks on the place. To anyone who‘s been there and experienced it themselves, Steam isn‘t
hot at all. Well, not most of it…there‘s a few pockets of your more traditional steam hanging about. It all looks
the same, but a canny blood will soon learn to feel the changes in mist currents, the subtle temperature shift,
and a hundred other small things that let 'em avoid getting cooked. Now a lot of leatherheads think that just
because this is a plane of cold, clammy mist, where it‘s hard to see and hard to breathe, that there‘s nothing
here worth experiencing. Well, that‘s why they‘re leatherheads. Like all Inner Planes, Steam has its share of
wonders and border areas with their own character and charm.

The Islands of Water border the Boundless Deep. Tough to breathe there, as you‘d expect from a place made
of mist and water, but a little magic will fix that right up. Soon enough you‘ll be able to swim through the airy
water, or watery air if you‘d prefer. Picture nothing but white, cutter. No weight, only the light, cool touch of the
mist on your skin, floating through something between a liquid and a gas. Those are the Islands of Water, and
if there‘s anything else like 'em in the multiverse I haven‘t seen it yet.

Right then, moving on toward Ooze (although I really only recommend going anywhere near Ooze once, and
that for the experience of ultimate filth), a body will enter the Realm of Cloying Fear. If you decide to visit here
tell me in advance, and I‘ll be sure to stay away for a week or so. Actually I‘ve never really smelt a berk who
reeked as bad as you will, I wonder what it would be like…Anyway, that place is basically one giant, sodding
cloud of stench and tainted air. A lot like the Lower Ward of Sigil on an off day, in fact.

If you decide to give the Realm of Cloying Fear the laugh, head toward Mineral. Soon enough a body will see
the Shard Forest‘s glittering spires of crystal looming in the mist. It‘s beautiful, cutter. The diffuse light from
Steam reflecting and refracting off their facets, illuminating the banks of mist in a hundred different colors…
nothing like it. 'Course, a peery blood will also see the rather smaller, sharper crystals floating about. Swim
through a cloud of these fast enough, and a body might just get penned in the dead-book by a thumb-sized
piece of mindless rock! Embarrassing, really. Not that I‘ve personally done that, despite what a few cross-
trading priests in Sigil will say…

So, moving right along, we come to the Raging Mists. Now as any well-lanned planewalker will tell you, this
place is almost as poorly named as Steam itself. The border with Positive Energy is a place of ever-increasing
brilliance, as water droplets get smaller and smaller before becoming little more than luminescent wisps of
vapor. Just before everything becomes blinding, surging energy, a body will stumble upon the Tower of Ice. Or
before everything becomes cold and frozen. Or both, actually. See, the Tower exists on the border of Positive
and Ice at the same time…I can‘t explain it. The greybeards rattle their bone boxes about transposition and
planar folding, but they never leave their libraries and see it for themselves. You have to experience the Tower
to really understand. Chant is, some top-shelf bloods have found a way inside from time to time. They come
out talking about fantastic arcane laboratories and enhanced potions, but it could just as well be screed. You
decide. Or better yet, go and find out for yourself.

Adjacent to the Positive border, a body will find the Death Cloud. With a name like that, you‘d be a barmy not
to go and see it. There‘s no choice at all, really. Ya see cutter, Lightning and Steam mingle here to make an
electrically charged mist. Awe-inspiring, it is. Just make sure you‘re immune to electricity at the time, or have a
tolerant priest around. I recommend the latter; there‘s no experience quite like being electrocuted by the very
air you‘re breathing! Why, a hardy basher might even survive for a few minutes before the wracking
convulsions and internal burns put 'em in the dead-book! Only an addle-cove would think the border with Ice is
much friendlier, although I suppose a sod dies a little slower here. The mists in Hoarfrost suck the heat right
out of a body, and no amount of winter clothing will protect you from their damp cold. A little magic will keep
the chill away, and might let a lucky basher see a skirmish between Ice and Steam mephitis. I think I saw a
blue slaad there once too, but the mist does funny things to a body‘s brain-box after awhile. Not quite like
certain areas of Smoke, but that‘s another story for another day…Oh, you might also find the Tower of Ice
here. 'Course you‘ll find it in the Raging Mists too, but I already said that.

Speaking of mephitis, the little sods are one of this plane‘s primary inhabitants. Now there‘s two varieties of
'em here, and planewalkers would do well not to confuse 'em. Mist mephits are sneaky, blending in with banks
of steam and spying on a body at any chance they get. They‘ve got a near eternal rivalry with the bossy and
overbearing steam mephits. 'Course, the elemental imps aren‘t the only things living in Steam.
Quasielementals sneak through the clouds, quietly manipulating everything on the hazy plane. Some berks

241
have claimed they‘re in league with the dao or the 'loths, but it might be screed. Then again it is the 'loths, so
who knows?

The vaporous Klyndes look almost like the mist they hide in. A peery basher will learn to see its shadow
against the surrounding mist before they get nicked, though. Wavefires are boiling waves of living elemental
water that swim through the plane. Chant is that these are relics from a time when Steam lived up to its name,
bordering Fire and Water. If you think hitting a pocket of hot steam is an experience, imagine one that chases
a body halfway across the plane! Finally, there are great living gasbags called fabere. Near as I can tell their
point is to either get eaten by klyndes, or to get roped onto steamships. Which reminds me; most
planewalkers can‘t move around Steam like the natives. For short distances a body can just swim or pick a
direction and fall, but for long treks a steamship is the way to go. After all, nothing ruins a basher‘s day quite
like seeing an earth pocket appear out of the mists when a body‘s plummeting as fast as he can. Although it
really is quite thrilling, you should try it! Sometimes you can even stop or swerve out of the way. Other times it
gets messy. But that‘s life, or death as the case may be… Right, anyway, steamships. Marvelous contraptions.
Take a carriage or ship, and strap it to a great big balloon full of air. Now hire some mephits to expel that air,
and you‘ve yourself a steamship. Some bashers use a living fabere, which works just as well if a body can
figure out how to guide them through the mist.

Particularly adventurous bloods race their steamships through the Straits of Varrigon, or prey on those who
do. This region of Steam is relatively free of mist banks, and forms a miles-long valley of clear air. Ever seen a
steamship hit by a pirate‘s broadside while running the Straights with a fortune of cloud-farmed plants in the
hold? Or better yet, been on that steamship? No prime tale of adventure on the high seas can come close.

One more thing, cutter. Anyone banging around the plane for an extended time is bound to hear of Adrift.
Steam‘s only known city of any size is built on a spinning ring one mile in diameter. Don‘t ask me how all the
buildings don‘t go flying into the mists, but standing on the edge with tattered clouds of mist flying about is an
experience you‘ll never forget. At the center of the ring are a collection of ancient statues in various stages of
disrepair. These aren‘t your usual marble deities, berk. Each statue easily dwarfs the whole city, and has been
there as long as anyone can remember. The inhabitants, a mix of mephits and planars from just about
everywhere, don‘t say too much about them one way or another. As long as you aren‘t a cross-trading rogue
and are on good terms with the locals, Adrift is a good place to call kip or stock up before going on a foray in
Steam.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor positive-dominant trait, in which living
creatures gain fast heal 2 and regeneration.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create positive energy or water
(including spells of the Water domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create earth or negative energy (including spells of
the Earth domains and spells that summon creatures with the earth or negative subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Breathing on Steam is possible, but made very difficult by the endless thick mists. All non-aquatic
creatures that need to breathe must succeed on a Fortitude save each hour (DC 15, +1 per previous check)
or become fatigued. The fatigue ends when the creatures reaches an area with normal, dry air. A water
breathing effect removes this nuisance.

Movement: In addition to the movement modes enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, natural
flight and natural swimming is also possible in Radiance.

Vision: Although there are few natural light sources on Steam, sight functions normally up to 60 feet. Beyond
that, all creatures and objects have concealment (20% miss chance).

Creatures: Calden, fabere, feggis, javoose, klyndes, mist mephit, positai, steam mephit, steam
quasielemental, wavefire.

242
 The Quasielemental Plane of Lightning

Imagine the best, loudest, brightest, most scalp-tinglingly ozone-filled thunderstorm you‘ve ever been soaked
in. Then take away all of the inconvenient landmasses and gravity and stuff that usually gets in the way of
being totally lost in the show. Throw in some quality time watching huge blue dragons dive and twist through
an ever-changing landscape of roiling black clouds lit up in all directions by bursts of electricity, and you‘ve got
a typical day on the Quasielemental Plane of Lightning. Being here is like chewing alchemical components
and skydiving all at once, and getting around it is just so easy. Just pick your direction. Think that other mass
of cloudstuff over there might feel more interestingly cold and feathery? Just decide that it‘s down, and you‘re
falling in the right direction. Instant gratification. If you‘re really lucky, maybe you‘ll get hit by all that flying
lightning. Tingly. Good for recharging magical or alchemical goodies that work on this sort of thing. Bring a
healer so you don‘t have to make two trips.

Where to go, where to go…Well, most of the plane is one great light show, and like the other quasiplanes,
begins to change the closer you go to its neighbors. Head towards Air and the thunder calms and the clouds
subside, giving way to what‘s called the Subdued Cacophony. Quite the name, huh? Folks like to meditate
there for some reason, from Seekers to Sensates. I guess it‘s pleasant enough. Certainly more interesting
than the border to the Positive Energy Plane, where there‘s just this white barrier called the Wall of Energy.
Not much to it, though stick around long enough and this huge tower suddenly swings into view. Confusing at
first, because it‘s the sort of white-blue crackly color of all the other electricity, but then you realize that it‘s
holding shape and not going anywhere, just getting bigger. It‘s called the Tower of Storms, and you can‘t get
there. You can, however, spend about a week just trying to fall into it from different angles and missing. Well, I
can anyway. They say somebody lives there, and I guess if they can build something that amazing they can
keep people out of it. Must be lonely.

Don‘t worry; you won‘t get lonely. There are lots of

folks around to play with. Most of them will try to
shock you a bit, as they‘re friendly little buggers.
Lightning mephits and thunder children, especially.
The former are little more than strands of black
lightning with hands, feet, and a head at the ends.
They whisk to and fro in small groups looking for
anything interesting or people to make friends with.
The thunder children though, heh, they aren‘t nearly
so benign. They like nothing more than to terrorize
folk 'till they die of fright, but in their eyes it‘s all in
good fun.

Xag-ya are critters of pure positive energy that

sometimes wander over to Lightning. They look like
glowing orbs with these cute light-tentacle, er,
appendages. They‘re entertaining, warm, and
debatably sentient. We‘ve all had dates like this, yes?
If you want conversation, try to make friend with a
shocker. Shockers are energy creatures most famous
for their ability to “project” a portion of themselves to
other planes. They‘re sparkly, smart, and curious as
anything in the planes.

A nimbus, on the other hand, probably won‘t figure out

you‘re there in the first place, but they‘re worth
tracking down. They don‘t have a set shape, which
makes them loads of fun to watch. The only way you‘ll
be able to tell at a distance that they‘re not part of the
landscape is a certain amount of cohesiveness to the
lightning. Get close and all of your metal gear will light
up with St. Elmo‘s fire, and you‘ll get an excellent new
hairdo. They look much more dangerous than they
are, trust me. If you don‘t believe me, try to lick one;
shapeshifters are so cute when they‘re confused.

243
If you do make new friends, don‘t try to get them to take you to Stormfront, the djinni city, 'cause they do have
some sense of self-preservation, poor things. The djinn living there are unusually antisocial, and will try to
track you down if they catch wind of you (there‘s a lot of wind on this plane, so steer very clear. Or don‘t, if you
want a workout.) The djinn come here for epic hunting parties, supposedly as part of some religious holiday,
coming of age, or whatever goes down as a big deal to them. Either way, they scour the plane for its most
creatures to kill or capture, from huge dragons to tiny quasielementals. You can see why most natives give
'em a wide berth.

Oh, right, I was discussing the border regions. Well, the edges of Smoke and Steam are both called the Dark
Lands, I suppose since they‘re so similar. For some reason the lightning mephits are always at war with their
smoke and steam counterparts, and the two regions are often privy to their battles. Sure, the Blood War is a
hell of a lot more violent, but there‘s just something strange about seeing hundred of mephits tearing each
other apart in the skies.

At the Bright Lands, near Radiance, the lightning grows brighter and brighter until it becomes a gentle ambient
glow. It‘s not too warm or cold, and in some spots the clouds are tough enough to walk on. It‘s nice enough
that some clueless might think they‘ve stumbled into heaven; in fact, at least one canny prime did! A woman
by the name Sophia Penkins set up a resort on a cloudbank and named it Paradise, complete with golden
gates and some very strict security. Generally only those with a mountain of jink, like adventurers and golden
lords, have the money to get in, though Penkins keeps a few smaller rooms open in case any primes stop by.

Last but not least, along the border to Ice is the Glistening Crystal, where the clouds become huge floating
icebergs that glow with blue crackling energy. The material is called bright ice and can be sold for a hefty price
by any cutter smart enough to mine and preserve it. Unfortunately, an immense blue dragon named
Heshadenuen has laid claim to the entire area and will make a snack of anyone he catches attempting to
mine the ice. Chant is he‘s trying to rally the blue dragons, though to what end, what end…Still, even the
dragonfear isn‘t enough to scare away all enterprising prospectors. But then, if you were afraid of getting a
little shocked, you wouldn‘t be spending time in Lightning, now would you?

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Elemental-dominant: Electricity-dominant. Any metal object (or creature) of size Tiny or greater attracts one
bolt of lightning per minute. The DM chooses the exact round on which the lightning strikes. Each bolt deals
10d8 points of electricity damage (Fort save DC 15 halves) to the object and its wielder, if any.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor positive-dominant trait, in which living
creatures gain fast heal 2 and regeneration.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create air, electricity, or positive
energy (including spells of the Air domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create earth or negative energy (including spells of
the Earth domains and spells that summon creatures with the earth or negative subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: The air is crisp, pure, and plentiful. It has a strong smell of ozone.

Movement: In addition to the movement modes enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, natural
flight is also possible in Lightning.

Vision: The constant bolts of electricity crisscrossing the sky-scope provide a strong source of natural
illumination, although the effective range of vision is occasionally hampered by storm clouds. An electrical
halo quickly forms around any material object or creature. This effect renders invisibility useless.

Creatures: blue dragon, lightning mephit, lightning quasielemental, mrebb, shocker, tempest, uun.

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 The Quasielemental Plane of Dust

Sascha Riffs

Ever wondered what the nightlife is like near Citadel Cavitus? Ever want to send Tor Salinus a gift basket, but
didn‘t know whether to send caramels or the fingers of unsanctified children? Of course you bloody didn‘t, but
you might want to know something about the lower four Quasielemental Planes just in case you ever go
barmy enough to visit, or even barmier and decide to join the Doomguard. I‘ll tell you what to bring on that
package tour of the Best Margarita Joints in Salt you let your Sensate buddy talk you into, and who‘ll be eating
your tour guide in Dust. Trust me, you‘ll be happy you did your homework.

By the by, His Brineyness prefers caramels.

The Plane of Dust is what happens if you start in the plane of Earth and walk towards Negative. It‘s between
Vacuum and I know, I know; Dust next to Vacuum, what‘s next, the Plane of Furniture Polish? Keep laughin‘,
cutter. Dust looks deceptively safe because, well, it looks like just that - a big mess of dust, with hardly a down
to speak of ‗cept where it borders with other lands. Well, by the time you get out of this particularly lovely bit
of bog, you‘ll be lucky if gravity is all you‘re missing.

Compared to its edges, Dust really does look harmless. Beats being crushed by huge, flying chunks of mud
where Earth breaks open. There‘s gravity along that border, aptly called Tumbling Rocks, but that just means
you‘re dodging a stampede of boulders the size of alehouses. On the other side, near Negative, you‘ve got
the Storm of Annihilation, and let me tell you, sliding riptides of grit draining out into nothing don‘t make for a
nerve-soothing vista, either. Ever stand near the ocean as a breaker rolls back out, and feel the unsteady pull
of sand beneath your feet? It‘s like that, except instead of the water, what‘s calling you home is the Unmaking
of All. Not scary enough? The negative energy also whips up some powerful winds of destructive particles
that‘ll make a body to violently explode. Don‘t go there.

I‘ll talk about some of the other borders in more detail when I get to the other negative Quasielemental Planes,
but for sake of saying, towards Ash you get the Wasting Place, where both planes come together to make a
choking cloud of dirt. Around Salt there‘s Consumption, a cozy realm where all fluids break up into bits of
crystal. Like the border to Earth, near Ooze and Magma gravity makes a body fall to the ground. The Oasis of
Filth, near Ooze, is really just a swamp of shifting dust and other waste. Dive deep enough and you‘ll leave
Dust behind, but there‘s some strange creatures dwelling down there waiting for sods to try. Around Magma
you have the realm called Sands, and as you‘d expect it‘s a bit like a desert, minus the sun or sky. There‘s lots
of dunes, and in some places it‘s hot enough you‘ll find natural glass, but it‘s also in those areas you‘re most
likely to get caught in the red storms, which carry super hot dust and magma as they swoop between the two
planes.

Scenic borderlands left behind, you‘ll need some special gear for this trip into the Unmaking of Earth. Air, for
starters. They don‘t make much local. You‘ll need to bring some, 'less yer one of them fancy berks what don‘t
need any. No heat, neither. Just being around here will steal the warmth from your torches, your bones and
your heart if you sit still and let it. Everything that stays here too long turns to dust, so pack yer mittens and
move fast. It‘s like a disintegration spell, only it takes longer, and can be harder to heal. Take some Sinker
protection, if you can, but don‘t expect 'em very conversational. They‘ve settled in here fierce, and barmier
than usual.

The Doomguard‘s favorite kip-away-from-kip, Citadel Alluvius sits in the Storm of Annihilation. This sorta
makes one wonder; do the Sinkers actually hire Xaositects to name all their stuff, and how the Maze do they
tell the Storm from any other part of this plane? The whole place is the very stylish, if you like the Doomguard
aesthetic: grandiose, uncomfortable, and totally decrepit. It looks like it fell over and they never bothered to
stack it up again. Hear tell, that‘s exactly what happened. It‘s on a big, spinning
plate of Earth held together by a magic wall. I hope they kept the manual for
that thing, 'cause if it ever breaks down I‘ve the feeling the whole mess will just
crumble right off into Negative.

Alluvius often functions as a veterans‘ home for Doomguard who played a bit
too hard in the Faction War. Old bloods they are, with twisted bits from the War
and new twisted bits from staying near Negative for so long. There‘s this new
religious chant about them, about their muddled old hides and Entropy. You

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have to bring Entropy into you to understand it, they say, have to get up real comfy and let it mark you its own.
A little like how we of the Order try to fill our brainboxes with the Multiverse, except with mutilation to boot.
Those lot aren‘t the only sort of Sinkers hanging 'round, though, which makes Dust one of the few planes
actually made saner for having more of the creepy guys around. The whole faction is awful busy playing Three
Bears on how fast Entropy is going: too fast, too slow, or just right. Makes a cutter wish they‘d concentrate
long enough to protect you from the other mad things knockin‘ about the Doomies favorite plane.

Like all negative-touched places, you can expect to be half up to your ears in undead. Stuff a cleric in your
napsack and forget it; they‘re not so bad. Worry about the dust devils. Cute bastards, but as soon as they
touch you they‘ll tear you about with bent up negative energy. Don‘t get caught in one of the huge dust webs
the place is festooned with, neither. I never saw the spiders what spin those, and I reckon that‘s why I‘m
writing this. The quasielementals aren‘t likely to leave you planning your memoirs either, if you get me. They
wouldn‘t be such a problem if it weren‘t for one thing. They usually call that thing the “High General” or “Wind
of Destruction”, or up personal-like, “Oh Please Gods, Sir, Don‘t Eat Me”. That last one‘s awful inconvenient to
put on a business card and the first two aren‘t very specific, so we‘ll settle for calling him Alu Kahn Sang. He‘s
a big, evil nutter of a Dust-thing who put the fear into enough other quasielementals to build himself an army.
What he does when not slaughtering caravans is beyond me, 'cause you wouldn‘t think enough of them came
through to keep him entertained. My guesses include stomping around in a pique, and figuring out how to
whip his lackeys into proper obedience without reducing their numbers too far.

Not charmed by the rustic locals? Grit in your tea, and your arm‘s come off? Not quite depressed out your
skull enough to write that novel? Say you like the lack of atmosphere but had your little heart set on being
dismembered by a hakaeshar at least once? Well, hang a left for the Unmaking of Fire and you‘ll find our next
stop on the tour—the Plane of Ash. Thirty bazillion Doomguard can‘t be wrong, yah?

Planar Traits

Gravity: No gravity. A body merely floats in space, unless other resources are available to provide a direction
for gravity's pull.

Elemental-dominant: No elemental traits. Some regions have the cold-dominant trait. All creatures and
objects take 3d10 points of cold damage per round. Creatures of the fire subtype take double damage each
round.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor negative-dominant trait, in which living
creatures take 1d6 / rnd of negative energy.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create negative energy are both
empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create air or positive energy (including spells of the
Air domains and spells that summon creatures with the air or positive subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: While a thin atmosphere is present on Dust, it is not sufficient to sustain most breathing creatures
or even to support nonmagical flames.

Movement: There is no gravity in Dust, although there is a definite up-down orientation between layers of
partially solidified dust and layers of cloudy dust. Most travelers need to find solid objects to push off of, but
solids are rare due to the natural disintegration process of the plane. Dust is eroding: All material creatures
and objects on the plane automatically take 2d6 points of damage per round (Fort save DC 15 halves). If
reduced to 0 hp this way, they are disintegrated. Hit points lost to this effect cannot be magically healed on
the plane unless accompanied by a death ward or restoration effect. Natives and creatures immune to
negative energy damage take no damage from this effect.

Vision: Although there are no natural light sources on Dust, sight functions normally up to 60 feet. Beyond
that, all creatures and objects have concealment (20% miss chance). Frequent dust storms additionally
hamper vision.

Creatures: Aeshar, dune stalker, dust mephit, dust quasielemental, hakeashar, kirth, koylith, negatai,
sandling, sandman, skriaxit, tabbitbug, undead (any), valkarthi, verd.

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 The Quasielemental Plane of Ash

Ash is the unmaking of Fire, which sounds peachy until you think about the metaphysical ramifications. Like
Dust, Ash absorbs body heat, and generally makes for a cold slog through endless, packed silt. Unlike Dust,
there‘s a definite down to the mess, which means you can play lovely special games like “Oh gods, something
just brushed my leg” and “Hey, did Bennie just sink under?” Most the plane is a covering of gray-white flakes
mixed with some very fine dust and soot. There‘s not too much threatening about the terrain itself, but there‘s
no natural air or light, and the temperature is dangerous enough on its own. Heat is drained from everything
here, living or not, and even creatures immune to the cold are affected. Spells are about the only recourse,
but keep an eye on your magic, too. Some parts of Ash gobble up magical energy too, and the hakaeshar will
finish what the landscape don‘t do.

Being too cold for any sensible critter to inhabit, the plane is mostly populated by undead, ash mephits, ash
quasielementals and, you guessed it, more Doomguard! The Sinkers keeps two bases on this plane. One and
a half, really. Citadel Cavitus and the Crumbling Citadel. I say half because one may be currently occupied by
an archlich, the only thing that can lower your property values faster than…oh, wait, this is the border region
between Negative and a freezing swamp made out of the dying remains of elemental heat.

The borders of Ash are all kinds of unpleasantness. Head towards Fire and you‘ll find the Sea of Frozen
Flames, a field of fire that produces no heat but‘ll still burn flesh fast enough. The crystal flames are a wonder
to behold, but I‘ve heard parts of it ignore magical protections against fire, so go there at your own risk.

Between Embers and Cinder Wells, the realms next to Smoke and Magma, respectively, the cold of Ash
meets blistering heat. You‘ve got burning clouds of ash in the former and slow rivers of magma at the latter.
Pick your poison. Things aren‘t much better on the other side, with the Wasting Place by Dust and the
Sparkling Vast next to Vacuum. There‘s supposedly all sorts of treasures hidden in the Wasting Place, but that
sounds like barmy talk to me, since most things there disintegrate over time. Bashers in the Sparkling Vast, on
the other hand, have a nice view of the glass-like residue before Vacuum. It shines real pretty under the right
light, so much so that you might not even notice the heat draining from you and your body going rigid like a
statue.

Last but not least, you have the place Empty Winter between Ash and the Negative Energy Plane. There the
life‘s sucked right out of you along with the heat. And because no Sinker likes things simple, that‘s where the
Doomguard chose to make kip. Citadel Cavitus is a giant skull on the border of Negative; you can‘t miss it.
They say it was built way, way back by critters too dark to speak of. Makes me wonder why they spent all that
time building a big monkey‘s brain-box in the middle of nothing fun. Maybe they‘re not really gone, and
Cavitus is really like an ant farm for the jollies of ancient exemplar? I didn‘t get close enough to ask whyfors—
there‘s the small matter that Cavitus may be inhabited by
Vecna. Yes, that Vecna. Apparently he buggered off to the
Demiplane of Dread because Cavitus‘ dungeon got too full
and he was running out of places to stash folk to whom to be
unpleasant. They chant he came back to collect rent off the
Doomies and undead who‘d holed up while he was out. Don‘t
suppose they wrote him an IOU.

The Crumbling Citadel is a daring Sinker attempt at

descriptive place names. The place pretty, in a way. For a
good idea of what it looks like, light a cone of incense and
leave it to burn down (carefully, loves, can‘t have you burnin‘
the inn). When it‘s a perfect shape of burned-up stuff, have a
lush buddy try to poke windows in with a spoon, and you
have your own model of the Crumbling Citadel. After the
Faction War, a large splinter group set up shop here. They
think Entropy‘s getting on just fine on its own,
thankyouverymuch. If anything, it‘s going too fast. If I lived in
the Citadel I‘d probably think Entropy was a bit overexcited,
too; the whole place was falling apart before chunks got
blown out during an internal Sinker squabble. Gives them a
little perspective on the less glamorous aspects of decay, I
think.

247
They have this neat trick, too, where they ask the ash what it once was, and it tells them. They call it Sifting.
You can stir the ground and conjure pictures of anything that‘s fallen to Ash, which are most things that stick
around long enough. Mazed if I know how they do it, must be their connection to Entropy or something.

The quasielementals here are much more organized than in Dust, and much less likely to try to flay you for
fun. They‘ve got their own empire, based around Gazra. Problem is, I can‘t tell if Gazra is a person, place, or
thing. Talking to the natives I‘m starting to think they can‘t really tell either. “The Shifting Emperor”, they call
him, but the whole place is meandering dunes of ash and I‘ve yet to see His Imperial Majesty in one place at
one time. My thought is Gazra may be an elemental large enough to form the landscape and soul of these
parts. Or it might just be one of those bids for an omnipresent reputation that prime gods like so much. You
sort it out.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Normal gravity. Gravity is oriented towards the largest

gravity well in an area.

Elemental-dominant: Minor cold-dominant. It is said that Ash

remembers being Fire, and desperately absorbs heat from
everything within it. All creatures and objects take 2d6 points of
cold damage per round. Creatures of the fire subtype take
double damage. Natives are immune to this effect.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the

minor negative-dominant trait, in which living creatures take
1d6 / rnd of negative energy.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use,

manipulate, or create cold or negative energy (including spells of
the Cold domain) are both empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create

fire, positive energy, or water (including spells of the Fire or
Water domains and spells that summon creatures with the fire,
positive, or water subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: For the most part, Ash is a semi-solid mass of gray-

white flakes. Although there is usually some difference between
"ground" and "air", the atmosphere is a thick, powdery cloud unfit
for breathing. Natural flames won't ignite, although magical fire-
based effects still may work (they are impeded, as stated above).

Movement: In most areas, a body can walk over the layers of

ash that had formed a solid enough mass over the eons. The
land speed is halved, however. Occasionally, the ever-present
ash becomes so fine that a traveler begins to sink and drowns
quickly. No known creature except the ash quasielemental is
able to swim through these seas of ash.

Vision: Below the surface of the ash, all sight (including

darkvision) is limited to 5 feet. Above the surface, sight functions
normally up to 60 feet; beyond that, all creatures and objects
have concealment (20% miss chance). There are no natural light
sources on Ash.

Creatures: Ash child, ash quasielemental, ash mephit, ash

witch, descriat, ember hulk, l'zoir, negatai, rast, tem'mat, ulish,
undead (cold resistant), xorn.

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 The Quasielemental Plane of Salt

Salt is the one negative quasielemental plane that‘s really sparkly, if you can bring enough light to see. It‘s a
vast chunk of rock salt with crystal veins running through. Don‘t touch, though, it‘s the unmaking of water; it‘ll
suck the moist right out of you, assuming you don‘t hit one of the crystals and slice yourself up a treat first.
The livable cracks and air pockets don‘t stay stable, neither, so keep moving. If you get lost, ask one of the
quasielementals hanging about, but don‘t expect a warm welcome. Their kingdoms are scattered about,
clannish and don‘t get out much. Between the Salt-Sinkers, the Facets, and Tor Salinus, I can‘t blame them.

The Doomguard that set up shop here are loopier than advertised. They think everything should fall apart as
fast as possible, and love to help anyone or anything that speeds up the process. The quickest way to get on
their good side is to suggest that you might want to buy enough weapons off them to level the Hive. Baatezu
and tanar‘ri both buy from them, which they cheerfully advertise. They kip up in this gigantic fortress carved of
(surprise) salt, which I have taken to calling the Big Lick. Three guesses. On a related note, don‘t get too
comfy if you go visiting them. They run salt mines to support their expensive ballistics habits, and are always
looking for new, cheap labor. They can‘t use the Facets, after all, so they have to import. What, never heard of
a Facet? I‘m jealous.

If you tried to draw a humanoid using only straight lines on paper made of angry bees, a Facet is more or less
what you‘d get. They look so much like the rest of the salt crystals around that it‘s hard to see them 'til they
move, but you better look fast; they‘re single minded, pointy and really don‘t like the fact that you‘re mostly
made of water. Facets are collectively at war with Water, or trying to mate with it, or something. Whenever
they touch it they divide or maybe refract. Whatever the process is, there‘s suddenly more of them. I don‘t

249
know what they‘ll do for kicks if they ever actually manage to eradicate all moisture. Probably get eaten by Tor
Salinus, who makes his home in the brine midlands and would like to see it stay damp.

Tor Salinus is the big dragon in town, floating out near the Water end of Salt like the biggest sardine in the
planes. The place is called the Saline Sea, which isn‘t nearly as icky as the Stagnant Sea by Ooze. With so
much salt, he‘s more or less the only thing that can live in the brine. Tor Salinus likes his peace and quiet and
is quite willing to eat everyone else in the plane to keep it that way. He‘s the second biggest organism in Salt
(counting all the Facets as one), so that‘s not usually a problem. For him. Bring presents, be polite and quiet,
and he‘s actually a decent chap. He likes candy; it‘s novel. You might bring some for yourself as well, it‘s a
good way to stay sane. His Tornness has also heard every knock-knock joke in existence. Don‘t try. Long
story.

Speaking of the borderlands and what will kill you in them, there are at least four others. The Negative side is
called Crystaline. Diamonds are not a girl‘s best friend, here. It‘s like Salt, but with all the bits that aren‘t razor
sharp taken out, and all the fluids will pour right out of you into the void. If you‘re noncorporeal or just
somehow invulnerable to billions of floating shards of rainbow-colored death, you should really check it out.
It‘s pretty.

The Dust side of Salt is Consumption, which is what you‘ll get if you stand around breathing too long. It‘s a
huge storm of swirling dust and salt, where the draining properties of both Quasielemental Planes will tear you
into itty pieces. On the Vacuum side you get the opposite; a bank of hard-packed salt ranging from smooth to
gritty. It‘s where the mass that is Salt starts to get sucked into vacuum, crunching together for a while before
tumbling off in big blocks.

The Ice side is called the Stinging Storm. I heard one of the Sinkers say the wind there‘ll flay all the flesh from
a pit fiend in the time it takes to drink a pint. I‘ve a feeling they have a bit too much time on their creepy little
hands. Thing I‘m peery of is, I think they‘d agree.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Normal gravity. Gravity is oriented towards the largest gravity well in an area.

Elemental-dominant: Water-suppressive. The thirst of Salt is limitless. All liquid evaporates at ten times the
normal speed. All living creatures suffer 2d6 points of damage from dehydration every minute; a successful
Fortitude save (DC 15) halves this damage. Creatures of the water subtype take double damage. Natives
are immune to this effect.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor negative-dominant trait, in which living
creatures take 1d6 / rnd of negative energy.

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create negative energy are both
empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create positive energy or water (including spells
of the Water domain and spells that summon creatures with the positive or water subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: Like Earth, this plane is mostly solid. Travelers who arrive run the risk of suffocation if they don't
reach a cavern or other pocket within the salt.

Movement: There is scarce little open space on Salt. Creatures without the ability to burrow are entombed
in the salt and must dig their way out (5 feet per turn).

Vision: Like on other primarily solid planes, there are no natural light sources here.

Creatures: Crysmal, facet, hlach, negatai, salt mephit, salt quasielemental, sloggosh, undead (any).

250
 The Quasielemental Plane of Vacuum

The Doomguard say that one day everything will look like Vacuum. When that day comes, writing travel books
will be much, much easier. It‘s not particularly hazardous, apart from the lack of air and relative hostility of
everything that lives in it. Not much to see, really. Not much to feel, either. It‘s not even cold, 'cause cold would
be something to feel. You see nothing, feel nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing, hear nothing…

Like the other negative quasielemental planes, or the Inner Planes in general for that matter, Vacuum can be
pretty rough if a berk‘s not prepared. There‘s nothing to live off, nor air to breathe. There‘s enough pressure to
hold a body together, but gaseous creatures have a hard times of it while they‘re here. More troublesome for
the average basher is that anything mechanical, from the joints of a suit of armor to the gears of an inevitable,
begins to break down and becomes pretty useless unless repaired some place nicer.

There are no borderlands in Vacuum, though technically it touches Ice, Smoke, Negative, Salt, Ash, and Air.
Once you‘re in, it looks like you‘ve always been there, which is actually the surest way to know that there. It
stretches flat into any direction you look. I say 'flat‘ because when you have nothing to judge distance by,
space looks to have no depth. The sensory deprivation is more complete than anywhere you‘re likely to have
visited. Think about it— usually when you‘re in the dark or can‘t hear there‘s at least some sense of place and
touch, or at least a feeling of your own weight due to gravity. Not here. The nothingness in itself becomes a
novel, if creepy, feeling. I think that‘s why so many Sensates come to Vacuum, not to mention some of the
more esoteric elements in my own order who are into that sort of thing. Want a down? Pick one—you can fall
towards it. Good luck figuring out which way is which, unless you‘ve got a big, solid object in sight for
reference. I can name all three that you‘ll see: Sun Sing, Zal the Destroyer, and Citadel Exhalus.

The two big figures living in this plane are more geographic markers than actual players. Sun Sing lives in a
negative energy pocket and spends his days looming mysteriously. They say he‘s evil, but I‘m not sure how
they can tell; I‘ve never actually heard of him doing anything. What or who he is should be figured out by
someone who can survive negative energy and (allegedly) pointy teeth. Zal the Destroyer, on the other hand,
wins my “self explanatory name of the week” award. He doesn‘t seem to exist for any other reason than to be
really unhealthy for anyone in line of sight. He‘s a gigantic beholder, so that‘s a really long line. Hugenormous,
irrationally violent, lousy conversationalist. Don‘t bother.

Some of the most laid-back Doomguard in the planes kip up at Citadel Exhalus. I‘m fairly sure 'Exhalus‘
sounds so much like 'exhale‘, 'cause that‘s the last thing you‘ll do in this plane if you come in unprotected. The
unmaking of Air, and all that, which includes lifeforms based in gaseous elements. With so much nothing
around and such a close proximity to Negative, it‘s easy to see why the Sinkers who live here think Entropy‘s
right on schedule. Sit back, they say, and watch the void go by. There‘s lots of it around.

Exhalus is built literally around a portal to Negative. Having no gravity as such to contend with, the
architecture is built all in swoopy lines of shiny, black rock arching off into nowhere. It‘s really a breathtaking
place, pardon the pun. It‘s like a half-woven basket of bridges and cantilevers, holding a ball of hungry dark.
Somehow the Negative is even darker than the space surrounding it, which is the clearest transition between
planes to be found anywhere in Vacuum. Dustmen come in droves to meditate as close to Negative as you
can get and still come back. But then, sometimes you don‘t come back, even from here. Some take to
knocking about with the Dustmen and go funny. It‘s a queer, spiritual place but there‘s certainly too much to be
had of it. I‘ve seen folk sit on the walkways for too long who just stand up and let go. They spiral slow and
graceful, riding their own subjective gravity right into Negative. Everyone clams up and stares 'til you‘re all
gone. It‘s almost easier when the Vacuum critters just pop out and eat you.

The things adapted to live in Vacuum are as inhospitable as the environment. They don‘t take kindly to things
with solid forms and will remedy the situation as quickly as possible. Vacuum quasielementals are
aggressively noncorporeal. Chant is they‘re the reason for the lack of mephits; my jink says they ate them all.
It‘s all or nothing here: you exist or you don‘t, and there‘s no middle ground to be had. Things that lived in the
deep places between stars on the Prime are most comfortable here, and they tend not to be amiable to our
sort of life. There‘s one that used to be a god, said a prime traveler I met, but he wouldn‘t tell me what it was
called. Seemed real peeky 'bout it. You may also have the honor of being snacked on by noncorporeal
undead, or a particularly tenacious space fungus called egarus that was kicked out of the Abyss and learned
to live on nothing itself. Now it doesn‘t take kindly to the presence of matter or energy. And you thought
razorvine was hard to nasty.

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Queer energy beasties looking to drain the life from you aside, Vacuum is the one plane on this half of the
sphere I‘d suggest you take in. It‘s educational, mark, and the local factioners are pretty sweet to guests. Just
don‘t be a leatherhead and try to peel nobody, and you‘ll not get tossed off a bridge. If you get hipped
somehow, don‘t panic—just get to a factioneer as fast as y‘can.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction. Objects
not under the motive force of others do not move.

Elemental-dominant: No elemental traits. Some regions have the cold-dominant trait. All creatures and
objects take 3d10 points of cold damage per round. Creatures of the fire subtype take double damage each
round.

Energy-dominant: No energy traits. Some regions have the minor negative-dominant trait, in which living
creatures take 1d6 / rnd of negative energy

Enhanced magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use, manipulate, or create negative energy are both
empowered and enlarged.

Impeded magic: Spells and spell-like abilities that use or create air or positive energy (including spells of
the Air domains and spells that summon creatures with the air or positive subtype) are impeded.

Breathing: There's absolutely nothing to breathe here, so artificial sources are a necessity for most beings.
How the lack of atmosphere still allows for a steady pressure and a constant temperature (both fairly very
low), no one is quite certain. It just does.

Movement: The single movement mode is provided by the subjective directional gravity trait; natural flight is
impossible due to the lack of atmosphere.

Vision: There are no natural light sources on Vacuum, and artificial light sources usually do not function
unless they are magical in nature (torches do not burn when there is no air to feed on). However, the
effective range of magical sources of illumination is doubled; the same applies to darkvision and low-light
vision.

Creatures: Egarus, negatai, undead (incorporeal), vacuous, vacuum quasielemental.

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 The Transitive Planes
Ian and Lenora Atiwin

Ian: What‘s there to say about the Transitive Planes? The name kinda says it all. They‘re the space between
the Cardinal Planes, the bridges linking different realms of existence, the chains holding the Great Ring
together. Each is defined (and overshadowed) by its neighbors.

Lenora: Assuming they really exist independently at all. The Transitive Planes are the matter and energy of
creation on their way to becoming something more. Possibilities into actualities, thoughts into beliefs. What we
perceive as distinct planes could rather be considered in-between points, the places where the raw stuff of the
planes breaks down and form into other planes. The backstage of the multiverse, as those in the know like to
say.

Ian: Yeah, well they exist all right, and anyone who says differently otherwise has been spending too much
time studying metaphysics and not enough time exploring the bloody planes. Sure, they give the impression of
being simple on first glance, and they may not be as crowded as other parts of the 'verse, but there‘s still
infinity hiding under the surface, with enough beasties, planar anomalies, and demiplanes to keep your hands
and your boneboxes busy for the rest of your life.

Lenora: It‘s true, the Transitive Planes haven‘t received a great deal of exploration, and there‘s much about
them that remains unknown. Comparatively few creatures are native to them, and most folk, planars and
primes alike, use them mainly as stepping stones to other planes. Which isn‘t surprising, since they‘re
coterminous with so many other planes—

Ian: Except each another.

Lenora:—Yes, I was getting to that, Ian. The Transitive Planes are unique in that they don‘t touch one another;
they‘re decently far away, cosmologically speaking. Which is why a lot of common spells such as etherealness
and teleport don‘t work in certain parts of the multiverse. The Astral Plane doesn‘t border the Ethereal or the
Inner Planes, the Ethereal doesn‘t touch the Astral or the Outer Planes, and as for the Ordial…

Ian: I‘ve been there, Lenora!

Lenora: Well, if it‘s accessible at all, presumably the Ordial is cut off from the Astral, Ethereal, and the Prime
Material Plane. The arrangement has many implications for magic, planar trade, cosmology—

Ian: Graybeard stuff. Let‘s get on to what they really want to hear.

Lenora: You can wait a bit longer, brother. Anyways, there are a few things that should be noted about the
Transitive Planes. First off, they‘re formed of material that is highly morphic. With training, the ectoplasm of
the Astral and the ether protomatter of the Ethereal can be shaped and directed to an individual‘s desires.
This is how demiplanes are formed, as a result of the natural buildup and concentration of the planar material
or at the direction of a powerful spellslinger.

Ian: Demiplanes are good places to find real adventure. Each is a unique, unlike anything else found on the
planes, with its own natural laws and strange critters. Some are the remains of lost worlds, and hold ruins and
treasures of people long dead. Most are hidden away, waiting to be discovered by chance, though a few are
owned by planars who wanted their own tiny realms for some reason. A couple are plenty big and still
growing, though, and might be on their way to becoming new worlds on the Prime Material Plane.

Lenora: Another thing to keep in mind is that the Transtitve Planes are sort of a no man‘s land; there are no
exemplars or gods that can claim them, few places set up to provide shelter and supplies—

Ian: And no one who‘s going to come to your rescue if an astral dreadnaught or chulcrix is hot on your trail.
Plan long and hard before heading out into the wild, cutter. But hey, if you weren‘t use to doing that, you have
no business being a planewalker anyhow.

253
 The Astral Plane

Lenora Atiwin

I‘m sure you‘ve heard of the Astral. Most folks have, either because of the spells that access the plane, or
because they‘ve heard of the githyanki and know they make kip there. But how much do you know about what
it represents, what it is? Now that‘s a different question, and one even the graybeards have some trouble with.
You see, the theory is the Astral is the plane—of all the planes—that doesn‘t really exist. It‘s the place in
between everywhere else. Take the space between you and me and divide it in half, and half again, and half
again, over and over until you can't see any further, until the space can only be visualized in your mind, and it
keeps getting smaller and smaller. That's where you'll start to find the Astral—down where there's nothing
between anything—that's where it is.

The Astral is the planar pathway connecting the Prime Material and the Outer Planes through which the
thoughts, dreams, and souls of the Prime migrate to the Outer Planes. It is a realm of pure thought; nothing on
the Astral exists per say, it‘s merely perceived, mental energy given shape and boundaries. And the dark of
the matter is that really, we aren‘t supposed to be there. We‘re not welcome in the backstage of reality—but
there‘s nothing to prevent us from going there.

Stepping into the Astral, one finds themselves floating in an endless void, a shining silvery expanse from
which a breathtaking field of stars can be seen in all directions. It‘s deafeningly quiet and completely open,
leaving the impression that you‘re utterly alone and surrounded by all existence at the same time. Like Limbo
or the Elemental Plane of Air, there‘s no ground and no gravity, but there‘s no wind or air either. Do not be
concerned; anything that enters the Astral becomes a mental construct formed, and thus does suffer from
physical necessities such as breathing or eating. Sleep, however, is just as essential to the mind as it is the
body. Be sure to pace yourself on the Astral.

In truth, most of our experiences in the Astral Plane are the results of our brains attempting to interpret it in
ways it understands. A disembodied mind should have no need for eyes or ears to sense the world around
them, yet they do. As a purely mental space, the Astral itself is both dimensionless and timeless, yet we apply
these concepts to it, however crudely. This limitation does not seem to ease with familiarity or training, for
even those races that have lived in the Astral for eons remain largely on the same level as everyone else.

While time seems to pass normally, and indeed it continues to in the rest of the multiverse, nothing actually
ages or grows in the Astral. For this reason, it is a somewhat common destination for those afraid of passing
onto their next incarnation, yet who lack the psionic capability to sustain their lives indefinitely. Such
immortality comes with a price, however, for the moment you step onto any other plane that time lost in the
Silvery Void catches up with you. If you‘ve lived in the Astral long enough, you age. Rapidly. It‘s a punishment
among the githyanki, locking someone up for centuries only to throw them out upon the Prime afterwards to
let them feel the agony of growing old and crumbling to dust in moments.

Movement on the Astral

How fast you travel is affected by a creature‘s intelligence. Add 5ft x Intellegence bonus to a creature‘s
speed to calculate their actual speed on the Astral.

Travel through the void is a matter of thinking it, as it is your will that moves you, stops you, and navigates you
through the plane. Only here can a crippled wizard fly faster than the healthiest barbarian, for the stronger the
mind the faster the movement. Since there is no need for physical motion to get a good speed going, most
travel is completely silent, save for what distraction you choose to entertain yourself with. Ironically, such
thoughts will make your journey even longer. Without any physical resistance, one would think that you could
simply close your eyes, will yourself one way, and just let go and keep floating. For an object that will work, but
it is not so simple for people. Have you ever been asked not to think about something ridiculous, like a pink
and purple modron? Not always an easy task once your mind gets going. The brain doesn't stop thinking just
because you aren't directing it. And in the Astral, all those random thoughts slow you down, like friction does
on a normal plane. If you want to keep moving, stay awake and stay focused.

254
Now, even once you start moving, you‘ll find most of the Astral still and silent. There are few visible features of
the plane, though what a planewalker runs into will undoubtedly be unlike anything else in the Great Ring.
You‘ve heard of astral conduits, the proverbial 'tunnel of light‘?

Astral Conduits
Conduits can be touched and travelled upon, from the Astral - but it takes some effort. It takes a Will save
(DC 20) to avoid being bucked off by the conduit's movements and taking 1d10 points of damage - on a
success though, one will enter the conduit and be able to travel to either end.

Astral conduits connect the Prime material and the Astral. Greybeards say they provide a path for the souls of
the recent dead to arrive to the Outer Planes. Regardless, they resemble living creatures - birthing violently
with an explosion of matter churned up from the Prime, growing and solidifying into a silvery writhing cables,
before thinning with age and eventually bursting with the debris of the passage of years.

And of course there‘s the color pools, brilliant portals of light leading to the other planes. The origin of the
things is mysterious at best, but they‘re convenient transport and landmarks. Jumping through one will land
you someplace else, but be warned – you can‘t see what‘s on the other side before you jump. Thankfully
they‘re color coded – unless of course you find one for a demiplane that happens to look like the place you‘re
trying to get to.

Of more importance to
those traveling the
Astral are the psychic
winds. Yes, winds. The
Astral has no terrestrial
weather, but the mental
energy of the plane
does shift and move.
New thoughts
continually drift into the
Astral, mixing and
colliding with one
another, and
sometimes reacting
violently. Psychic winds
are currents of this
turbulent mental energy
that surge through the
plane, carrying with

255
them ideas, memories, dreams, and emotions. While many may be mere breezes, wafting the thought of what
someone had for breakfast through your mind, strong winds can send you hurtling halfway across the planes
or hammer you apart under their force. The truly unfortunate are not killed, but have their minds shredded in
the winds, driven insane or left comatose.

The winds may be caused by a single act of great love or fear, or be the culmination of thousands of years of
tranquil meditation in one place. More vexing is the fact that since the Astral exists outside temporal reality,
you cannot know where the wind you‘re feeling is from the past or the future, and the ideas and emotions that
roll with it can be from any time or place. Even more dangerous are the psychic storms that manifest as a
result of an influx of strong mental energy, such as from a large number of deaths or when a gate-town shifts
to another plane. Though rare, such terrors are capable of causing rifts in the Astral itself.

There is another grim, though less threatening, feature of the Astral that one should be aware of. There are
places where giant floating chunks of rock can be found, much too large to have been drawn in from a conduit
or rift. The formations are even large enough to develop their own gravity fields, or to play host to thriving
cities and fields. Where did they come from, if not the Prime? The answer is enough to give most bloods
pause. You see, those huge lumps of misshapen rock, they're corpses. Of powers—that's right. Gods. When a
deity loses their worshippers, their place in the cosmos, they fade away, and become a massive chunk of
unmoving rock on the Astral.

There is no more somber a reminder to primes (or many a planar) that the multiverse is not as straightforward
as they imagined it than to stand on the grave of one of their fallen deities— and then see the countless other
dead gods that float beside them. It is uncertain how they come to be in the Astral, though I suspect as more
concepts than physical beings, the powers are primarily mental energy to begin with. Many theories circulate
as to what these godisles could be used for, but most are heavily guarded by the githyanki, who have
developed their colonies on the godisles and vigorously deter others from doing the same.

Thrice now, I have mentioned the githyanki. You likely know of them, they have a long history of making
incursions into the Prime Material and Outer Planes, and are the most widely known residents of the Astral.
This is, of course, because they go to such great efforts to assert their dominance over the plane, claiming
godisles for their homes and patrolling the void in their ships—great astral carracks, moved by thought and
will. They are a xenophobic and aggressive people; given what I've heard of their past history as slaves of the
illithid, this is not too surprising. A githyanki may be polite to you, but do not make the mistake of thinking
they're your friend. They'd like nothing more than to establish an empire throughout the entire Great Ring.
Fortunately, the githyanki have not recovered from the death of their leader a few years ago, and thus it is
much less common to be intercepted by patrols while crossing the Astral.

Yet as the githyanki weaken, the psurlon grow stronger. The second greatest population in the Astral, and the
greatest threat to githyanki dominance, the psurlon are tall worm-like creatures with impressive psionic
capabilities. Entirely hermaphroditic, each psurlon produces offspring only once in their life, but have a
lifespan of many centuries, not counting their time on the Astral. The psurlon also establish fortresses upon
the godisles or on chunks of rock pulled from the Prime, which naturally brings them into conflict with the
githyanki. They‘re usually on the losing end of battles with the githyanki, but of late their raids have been
getting through their rivals defenses more and more. One might consider them the greater of the two evils,
however, for the psurlon are one of many varieties of psionic races that feed off the minds of others.

Of course, not even two psionic races are enough to control an entire plane, least of all one such as the
Astral. The Athar maintained a citadel overlooking the corpses of three powers for many years, using it as an
academy and temple to their Great Unknown. Factor Gnoas, the Athar leader there, invited me to teach at the
citadel for a few years, a service I was happy to provide at the time. Since their expulsion from Sigil, the site
has become even more important and a small town called Prayer‘s End has slowly developed around the
tower. It‘s becoming a site of pilgrimage to the Lost, with individuals spending time training there before taking
their message to the planes.

The Doomguard tend to their stronghold on the Astral as well, though it serves not as a sanctuary but as a
prison. A number of bashers decided to roundup all the people and things that have been banished to the
Astral over the millennia and lock them away proper. The prison Pitiless is the result, and it has stood for over
a thousand years. Some of the detainees certainly deserve their fate, but Pitiless is considered particularly
cruel because not even death from old age will free one from their cell in the Astral.

256
As one of their great accomplishments following their inception, a large congregation of the Mind‘s Eye
traveled to the Astral and willed into existence an immense faceted sphere of psionically sensitive deep
crystal. No, I wasn‘t present for the event myself, but I have had the honor of entering it. Though there are no
entrances, portions of the interior have been carved out to make room for living areas and studies and are
accessible to those with some teleportation ability. Focus, as the structure has come to be called, has since
been made into a demiplane and now serves as a research outpost where psions study the mental energy of
the Astral and its unique effect on magic and psionics.

Yes, I was just getting to that…magic and psionics are enhanced on the Astral, it‘s true. As constructs of the
mind, spellslingers can fire off spells faster than you can speak. Though a few do not function in the unique
environment of the Astral, most that deal harm or cause physical transformations are converted into their
mental equivalent; a fireball on the Astral works much as a fireball on the Prime, even if it's only the ‗thought‘
of a fireball really being cast. Either way, spellslingers, magical or psionic, are a force to be reckoned with on
the Astral.

With such power available, it's inevitable that there‘s going to be some sort of drawback, and there is. There
always is. Directing that sort of power on the Astral feels good…really good. The pleasure can be so intense
that a spellslinger starts to expend all their energy for that brief moment of ecstasy. They'll become crazed for
it after long enough, and like any bubber you‘d find in the Hive, they‘ll do anything for their next fix, even
becoming dangerous if denied their obsession. Addiction isn‘t a pretty thing, and the effects are far worse than
whatever power the Astral offers, cutter.

Optional Rule: Astral Addiction

Creatures that cast spells or manifest powers become susceptible to astral addiction. When casting or
manifesting a psionic power, a character must make a Will save against a DC equal to 10+the number of
spells or powers cast since resting (this includes innate magical or psionic abilities, but not those achieved
through items). Failure means the character has succumb to astral addiction. However, the effects do not
become apparent until they leave the Astral Plane.

Once addicted, the character receives a pleasurable jolt from magic and psionics even when not on the
Astral, encouraging them to spend it freely. A caster will often begin to use magic in situations where it is
unnecessary, regardless of any need to conserve energy for later. After expending their own reserve of spells
and power points, the character will turn to the use of scrolls and other magical items as a lesser source of
pleasure. Every round during combat the character must make a Will save to not cast a spell that round if it is
within their ability to do so. The DC for this save goes up by 1 for each round successfully resisted. When
outside of combat the character must make the Will save every hour. After running out of all magical energy,
the character becomes despondent and anxious, and suffers a -2 morale penalty to all rolls.

Addicts do not suffer any ill effects while on the Astral Plane, and most wish to return there frequently. Astral
addiction can be cured through use of greater restoration, limited wish, miracle, wish, or similar effects.

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction.
Objects not under the motive force of others do not move.

Enhanced magic: All spells, spell-like abilities, powers, and psi-like abilities used within the Astral Plane
may be employed as if they were improved by the Quicken Spell/Quicken Power feat. Already quickened
spells or powers are unaffected, as are effects from magic and psionic items. Effects so quickened are still
prepared and cast at their unmodified level. As with the Quicken Spell feat, only one quickened spell or
power can be cast per round.

Movement: Movement is enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, as modified by the travelers
Intellegence score, as described above.

Creatures: Githyanki, psurlon, astral dreadnaughts, astral streakers, foo creatures

257
 The Ethereal Plane

Ian Atiwin

Yeah, the Astral may be the plane of thought, but the Ethereal is the plane of potential. It‘s raw and unshaped,
inclusive of everything in existence and a damn good bit that‘s not. You know it connects the Inner Planes to
the Prime, right? Hey, don‘t get touchy, I ain‘t saying you‘re some leatherhead clueless. Anyways, the fogs of
the Ethereal are the vapors of the elemental matter of the Inner Planes making their way to the Prime
Material, where it gets all sorted out and forms the substance of those worlds on the Prime. All things that are,
come to be through the Ethereal, and all things that have yet to be are there waiting for their chance. Without
the Ethereal the building blocks of ‗verse wouldn‘t go nowhere; there‘d be no Prime, no Outer Planes, no
Great Ring as it‘s known today. Think about that for a bit.

So, the Ethereal‘s the place where if you concentrate on something hard enough you can make it appear from
the thin fogs around you. That‘s cause the ethers a mix of all the elements, brimming with possibilities and just
waiting to be made into one thing or another. It takes a powerful will, and constant work to make anything
lasting, though, so I don‘t suggest trying it on anything major unless you‘re an expert at it. Practice on the little
things. My buddies still haven‘t forgiven me for thinking some vinegar into their whiskey the last time we were
there.

Getting to the Ethereal is fairly easy. You hop a portal, take a spell jaunt or whatnot, and simply go there. It‘s a
physical realm, and the Ethereal is strewn with the vapors of all the Inner Planes, so once you‘re on the plane
you‘re in good shape when it comes to air or other essential needs. There‘s ambient light throughout the
plane, probably leaking from the Elemental Plane of Fire or the Quasielemental Plane of Radiance, and all the
mists are constantly changing colors and form. It ain‘t much different than swimmin‘ in an ocean, though
there‘s no right up and down, and the fog makes it hard to see beyond a couple hundred feet. The fog is just
that much in the way of things.

The Border Ethereal is the part closest to the “edges” of the plane. It‘s not just one single expanse of the
plane, but rather forms around the places where the Ethereal touches on other planes—like the Prime, the
Inner Planes, or even around small demiplanes—creating a shallow end that‘s like a beach round an island.
The Border Ethereal is that nimbus around those more “defined” planes, and is the area one ends up when
using spells like ethereal jaunt and etherealness. Looking around you, it‘s like you‘re in a hazy reflection of the
nearest plane, though you can‘t hear, smell, or touch anything on the other side.

Ghosts and other incorporeal critters roam this region looking into the neighboring plane, and a practiced
cutter could walk about in the Border shadowing those in the nearby plane without being seen. While you can
generally pass through what‘s on another plane so long as it don‘t extend to the Ethereal, some materials like
lead are too dense to move through. Worse yet, some portions of the Border Ethereal are changed by what‘s
on the other side – forming an Ethereal Curtain “flavoured” with the neighboring plane. This is particularly true
at the edge of the Inner Planes, where the substance of the planes is being streamed off into the fogs of the
Ethereal, you‘ll find that the Border takes on some of the same traits as its neighbors. So near the plane of
Fire it gets searing hot, near Ice, damnably cold, and so on. I don‘t suggest hanging around the border with
Ooze. It‘s really icky.

258
If you have the ability to travel on the Ethereal it makes a quick and easy way to get around rough terrain on a
Prime without losing you1r place too much, but if you‘re looking to travel a long long distance, or from one
Prime world to another this way it‘ll take too long to make your way through by skirting the Border. That‘s
assuming the section of the Border you‘re on actually is on the same section as the place you‘re trying to get
to. Remember - the Border Ethereal is not a continuous section of the plane!

Deep Ethereal
If you have the ability to travel on the Ethereal, it makes for a quick and easy way to get around rough terrain
without losing your place too much, but if you‘re looking to travel a long, long distance, or from one prime
world to another, skirting the Border ain‘t as useful. So how do you jump from one section of the Border
Ethereal to the next if there‘s no direct way to do it? That‘s when you hop into the deep water so to speak. The
Deep Ethereal is the section of the plane far away from the edges, “shores”, of the other planes. It is in these
depths where the fogs of potential simmer away to produce new demiplanes, and boil into violent storms of
potential. The Deep Ethereal is the full expression of potential in this plane, and is not a place to be casually
visited.

Anyways, putting the Border at your back, you‘ve got the heart of the Ethereal Plane before you. It looks much
like the Border, except there‘s no semblance of another world just out of reach; it‘s just you and the mists. For
short distances you move around as normal, whether you prefer to walk, swim, or fly, with the added quirk that
you can speed up by tossing some of your ether-body to the mists. Just concentrate on going faster, and you‘ll
shoot by like arrow from its bow, all the while leaving a trail of your essence in your wake. It don‘t feel like
much, so be careful about expending yourself carelessly.

Now none of that matters when you‘re traveling long distances. If you‘re trying to reach other realms or planes
through the Deep, movement is as much willed as it is physically performed. The Deep is unmappable, as
nothing really stays in one place relative to others for any length of time, so you need to know where you‘re
going or you‘ll simply drift aimlessly for the rest of your trip. How it works is a bit over the head of laymen, but
let‘s just say as you focus on where you need to go, the plane itself will help you attune to it, and you‘ll go the
right way.

259
Wall of Color
As you leave the Border, if you happen to look back you‘re gonna see a shiny field behind you. This wall, or
walls really, is the marker for the point where the Deep and the Border meet, and is called the Wall of Color.
It‘s only visible from within the Deep itself, and appears as a thin shimmering veil of color across the horizon,
which ripples gently on close inspection. Passing through the wall is easily done; simply stepping through it
brings you back to the Border Ethereal.

The walls are color coordinated (as astral color pools are not), so they give a little bit of warning as to what a
traveler may find on the other side, and the Wall of Color holds the dreams of dreamers on the Prime. These
dreams are reflected on the Wall in shimmering images that flit by too fast to see. But a strong dreamer may
stabilize an area of the Wall. The dream will appear, like a bubble within the colors of the wall in a realized
form, echoing the dreamers thoughts. Of course, this is the Ethereal so there is always the potential of those
thoughts actually becoming reality, as the dream is spun into substance from the fogs of the Ethereal. A dream
that has become that solid will allow travelers to enter it as if they were entering any other demiplane. Though
if the dreamer is woken while they are still inside the dream, the visitors will be expelled abruptly into the Deep
Ethereal where they‘ll have to make their way home from there. Dream magic cast at the Wall of Color is
stronger than in other places, and there are rumors that there are some spells dealing with dreams that may
only be cast at the Wall.

Ether Storms
Ethereal storms are mighty and powerful things to see. These storms may come out of nowhere, as the
potential energy of the plane swings into violent motion. An ethereal storm may hurl any caught in its wake
miles away from where they started, and throw them haphazardly about causing damage to life and limb.
They‘re hard to see coming though, since the fogs of the plane make it hard to see for long distances - so the
best thing you can do is keep your ears open. These storms make an awfully large amount of noise as they
approach, so if you hear something that sounds like fifty troops of Hardheads coming your way - run. If it‘s
Hardheads, you‘ll be happy. If it‘s an ether storm, you‘ll be alive.

Ether Gaps
Ether gaps are the only thing worse than the cyclones. They‘re these tears in the Ethereal Plane through
which everything gets sucked in like water down a drain. Fortunately, you can spot them miles in advance
because they draw in all the mists and fogs, giving you a good view of a vortex of ether sinking into a huge
open maw. If you can see it, it‘s drawing you in, the closer you get the harder it pulls, and if you don‘t fight
back you‘ll eventually be sucked into the gap. Most bashers that fall into an ether gap are lost forever.

Demiplanes
Demiplanes may be formed by the investment of a powerful wizard, or form naturally as a result of an idea
bubbling to the surface - but it is the ethereal that contains all of these demiplanes. No other plane in the
multiverse has the ability to generate these unique little pockets within itself.

Crafting out of Ethereal Protomatter

So, the Ethereal‘s the place where if you concentrate on something hard enough you can make it appear from
the thin fogs around you. That‘s cause the ethers a mix of all the elements, brimming with possibilities and just
waiting to be made into one thing or another. My buddies still haven‘t forgiven me for 'thinking some vinegar
into their whiskey the last time we were there. It takes a powerful will, and constant work to make anything
lasting, though, so I don‘t suggest trying it on anything major unless you‘re an expert at it.

Protomatter is a sort of fluffy grayness - that can be bunched together and condensed into a form - with
enough pressure and force of will it can even be convinced to take on any mundane properties required.
Protomatter objects are not innately magical, and enchanting them is an unwise idea as they are transitory in
nature.

A well-crafted piece of ethereal protomatter will hold together in its creators hands. Experts can create objects
that will hold up even once they have left their creator's proximity. But only the most talented of experts may
create any objects that will survive off the ethereal for any amount of time.

260
Once you‘re off, where to? In that, you‘ve got an
abundance of options. The first place I recommend
is Ambar‘s Palace. It‘s a stronghold resting on an
island of stable protomatter and was kip to the last
factol of the Believers of the Source. Now it‘s run by
the Mind‘s Eye, though Factol Ombidias is looking
to make the faction‘s headquarters in the Outlands.
It‘s a fantastic sight; a gothic structure with multiple
high-ceiling wings, stained-glass windows, well-
tended gardens, and the finest art Ambar‘s elf eyes
could find. The Seekers continue to keep the doors
open, and it makes a superb spot to find rest,
supplies, and entertainment for a bit of jink.

For a place the Seekers would rather keep you

away, there‘s Believer‘s Forge, the not-so-secret
factory of the Godsmen. The former faction hid the
structure inside a huge rock of stable protomatter,
from which they were able to make source tokens,
little coins that could transport you to the Deep
Ethereal no matter where you were. Before the
workers were wary of interlopers, but now they‘re
downright militant. Chant is the nathri there (who
make up the bulk of the Forge‘s population) have
refused to join their fellows in the Mind‘s Eye and
are standing by the mantle of the Believers of the
Source. Trouble‘s brewing, though it remains to be
seen how far Ombidias will go to consolidate his
faction.

Anyways, I‘d be remiss not to mention the Etherfarer Society. They‘re an organization of planewalkers and
graybeards devoted to discovering the deepest darks of the Ethereal Plane, from cataloging the various
demiplanes and ether critters to discovering what creates ether gaps (more on that below). In the mean time
they‘ve supported the creation of a city 'round their guild halls, which has come to be called Freehold. Looking
for a guide through the ether? Freehold has 'em. In the market for an ethereal cruiser to speed your way
through the Misty Shore? Available to any cutter with the platinum. Need chant on the newest demiplane, or
want to sell knowledge of your latest find? You guessed it. You can even find yours truly there much of the
time.

Now, I‘m not going to spell out every little burg and realm I know about, cause there‘s hundreds of 'em.
Besides, much of the fun of the Ethereal is discovering things for yourself!

Planar Traits

Gravity: Subjective directional gravity. Inhabitants of the plane determine their own “down” direction.
Objects not under the motive force of others do not move.

Movement: Movement is enabled by the subjective directional gravity trait, and is half speed due to the
thickness of the environment.

Vision: The Ethereal is full of clouds and fogs of potential material. As a result travel on this plane is much
like travelling in heavy fog. Visbility in the Ethereal Border is limited to 60 feet. Visbility in the Deep Ethereal
is limited to 10 feet.

Creatures: Foo creatures, phase spiders, thought eaters, ghosts.

261
 The Ordial

Ian and Lenora

Ian: When I got sucked into that ether gap, I thought I was a deader for sure. Gave a few final prayers, relived
a few cherished memories, the whole deal. Thing is, I didn‘t die. I ended up on a different plane, a plane unlike
anything else in the 'verse: the Ordial Plane.

Lenora: Ian, not this—

Ian: Bar that, Lenora, let me speak my peace. Listen cutter, I‘ve been to the Ordial, the plane that lies between
the Inner and Outer Planes. The last link of the Great Ring. That‘s where I ended up. I don‘t know if that‘s
what happens to everyone who falls through an ether gap, whether it just sends you to a random plane, or
what. But I made it there. The Plane of Spirit.

Lenora: Sigh…It must be said, the Ordial is as much a rumor as it is anything else. The Rule of Three would
say that there should be a third transitive plane, sandwiched someplace between the Inner and the Outer
Planes. One would suppose this it connects belief and substance directly, allowing powers to make their kip in
the Inner Planes, and petitioners to take physical forms on the Outer.

Ian: And that it does! The Ordial is where the distinction between concepts and reality disappear, where
everything is a realization of its true essence. Pure. Complete. The spirits weren‘t all ghost-like, they were
real, vivid. Even the area around me; there was this great expanse, but it didn‘t feel empty at all, it was like
everything in creation was right there.

Lenora: No one‘s been able to reach the place, the Ordial is just what some of the graybeards have taken to
calling it. There‘s not any proof the plane even exists, save that it would fit far too well into place in the
cosmology. But it‘s used t to explain all sorts of other mysteries, like where the deities and uberdeities dwell,
what‘s past the Hinterlands, what‘s on the other side of an ether gap…

Ian: Sodding hells…my memories have been failing ever since I got back. Everything was so clear there, like
the meaning and nature of a thing was plain to see, but now…I think there were symbols, floating in the air
and on the ground. They might‘ve been names; maybe my bone-box is just trying to make sense of things.
But there were others there, presences 'round me, and a great force bearing down hard. I thought I was
staring up at the eye of god, or a whole plane. And it blinked.

Lenora: Everyone wants to find their way there, cutter. Everyone wonders whether there‘s power to be had,
wisdom to be found. All sorts of few rumors persist about trying to get into the Ordial, mostly centered around
foolish things like jumping into spheres of annihilation or going over the edge of Suicide Alley in Sigil. The
more sane ones suggest forcing an astral rift to appear over top of an ethereal vortex, or walking up to a
power on the Inner Planes and begging for the information. One rumor holds that the Ordial may actually even
be a sublayer of the Prime Material itself, which holds no known layers, and that finding a way to reach a
deeper layer of the plane may allow one to connect more directly with the Inner and the Outer Planes. But
that‘d give the Great Ring a twist, wouldn‘t it? Make it more the Great Infinity.

Ian: I failed a test. That must be it. I failed some barmy test, and was forced out. If I could only remember what
it was…Lenora, where was it ya found me after we split at Sigil?

Lenora: The Gatehouse, Ian. That‘s where you were. I‘m not even sure you made it made it out of the Cage.

Ian: Don‘t give me any of that rubbish. Believe me or not, it‘s the truth! We should head back there, to the
Gatehouse. Things made sense then, I remembered everything more clearly. I think I was writing some of it
down, on the walls and—

Lenora: I think we‘re done here, this interview is over. Someday one of your readers may find the real Ordial
Plane, whatever and wherever it is. I hope someone can put this mystery to rest. In the mean time, I wouldn‘t
put any stock in what anyone has to say about the place. None at all.

262
 The Prime Material
The Prime is the plane centered squarely between the substance of the Inner Planes and the belief of the
Outer Planes. This is the location where the majority of the mortal populations of the multiverse live, breed
and die. The Prime Material plane consists of a goopy matter, I‘ve heard it called phlogiston, in which float
thousands, millions, an innumerable number of spheres each containing a world and planet where mortal
Primes exist. These worlds are where most of the Clueless come from (though, let‘s be honest, you can grow
up Clueless on the Planes too), and are the source of most mortal worship for the powers on the Planes. The
worlds of the Prime Material, like demiplanes on the Ethereal are too many and too varied to describe them all
here. Some well-known Prime worlds include: Toril, Oerth, Athas, and Ortho.

The Pseudo Planes

The pseudo planes are more than just demiplanes, but they‘re something less than a real plane and all sorts
of theoretical. These planes are generally considered representations of some overall aspect of the
multiverse, and touch on nearly every part of the Great Ring, but often only in a limited fashion. Thus far there
are three acknowledged pseudo planes, following the Rule of Three, but in all honesty there may be more out
there. The whole idea of a pseudo plane leaves room for all sorts of strange realms that just don‘t fit into our
understanding of the cosmos. One thing that seems to unite them, though, is that they‘re generally damnably
hard to get to, and probably only half exist in the first place. Few portals led to them, and even magic tends to
have some caveats to make life more interesting. However, the pseudo planes that are recognized may be the
next unexplored horizon for planewalkers, lands that promise to provide countless new experiences and
adventures. On the other hand, it may be a long time before any kind of consensus forms about what one can
expect to find there.

[Editor's note: There are a wide range of opposing theories on the nature of the various pseudo planes, and
many debates on the matter have become quite heated. Rather than choosing any one account as the
“official” description, I have elected to provide several different accounts on the three pseudo planes known
today. I will leave it to the readers to make their evaluations, but hopefully this will help those who make the
journey themselves someday.]

263
 The Shadowlie

Aelfred Erikson

My tale is strange, but I understand very few have experienced the Shadow Plane of any place other than the
Prime. I had gone looking for my shadow. I‘m not sure how I lost it; maybe one of Heggle‘s sodding wild-
surges, or some curse by that damnable cleric of Loki. Either way, it was gone, and I needed it back. You can‘t
let your shadow go running around on its own, you know? Gods only know the sort of trouble it‘ll get into.

So I went looking for it in the Shadow Plane. I swear, every time I go there it‘s different somehow, shifted. But
maybe that‘s just its way. I‘m sure your readers are familiar with the basics: the Shadow borders other planes
and takes on the form of its dark reflection, a land of shadows moving to no discernable light source. The
greybeards say that all shadows, everywhere, extend into the Shadow Plane, and that‘s what makes up most
of the realm.

At first, the Shadow looks empty, and it‘s like you‘re all alone in a place that you don‘t belong. Maybe it‘s just
that everything scatters when outsiders arrive, 'cause the place is actually filled with life. First there‘s the
shadows of everyone on the nearby plane moving around, whispering to one another. Secrets, lies, I don‘t
know. Then there‘s the true umbral creatures, independent beings made of darkness, some bestial and others
wickedly cunning. As for the latter…their kingdoms are alien yet familiar, like they‘re mocking the world of light,
or jealously imitating it. But then, that‘s how the Shadow itself is with the planes it borders.

I had entered the Shadow of the first layer of Ysgard, as that‘s where divinations indicated I had originally lost
my shadow. I did my best to avoid the umbral inhabitants; they had all the vigor and rage of their real
counterparts, but none of the camaraderie, honor, or glory. I could sense my shadow, though; there was a
connection between us, and I was drawn to it. But the bugger just gave me the laugh and led me in chase
deeper into the Shadow, through darklands where negative energy sapped at my life and into forests that
were became labyrinthine mazes.

Soon, I had lost all track of my shadow, but I wasn‘t alone…there were voices in the leaves, shapeless
shadows flickering about. When I slept, my dreams were strange visions of places I had visited but didn‘t
know, things I had said and done but couldn‘t remember. Slowly, my mind was becoming undone. The
Shadow was perverting everything, showing me truths that didn‘t make sense, causing me to question things I
had always known. I was lost and going barmy, and for a while I wondered if this was how people became one
with the Shadow…

Yet all was not lost, for surely the powers of good always ensure there is some hope. I wandered, ran really,
dazed and uncertain as to my direction, but then the
darkness around me was parted by a wave of light, and
suddenly I could see Yggdrasil, the World Ash, standing in an
immense clearing. It was strange for any bright light to exist
in such a place, but it seemed to drive away the darkness for
miles around. What‘s more, it chased away the phantoms
that had haunted me, and my mind was no longer confused
by what was real and what was illusion. It was a sanctuary in
the middle of an abyss, and I wept at the sight of it.

I climbed the World Tree‘s roots and branches, hoping to find

shelter and a vantage point to look out over the Shadow. I
wasn‘t prepared for what I saw. The sky seemed so clear,
and it was if all the multiverse were laid out before me. In the
far distance, I swear, I could see Mount Celestia. It was dark
and foreboding, yet at its summit another light shone, a
brilliant flare that illuminated the plane as Yggdrasil had. And
off in another direction, upon a great tower that looked like it
might be made of black iron, was the City of Doors. The ring
sat like a halo over the world, another beacon of light and
hope.

264
I slept in the branches of Yggdrasil, and when I woke my shadow was at my side once more, though I think,
like me, it was changed somehow. To be certain, there are many secrets left to the Shadow Plane, many
dangers waiting to put a body in the dead-book. Yet the plane lies open to planewalkers now, amd there are
things that counter the darkness. Though I don‘t understand their reason or nature, I hope to discover the dark
of it someday, either myself or from another brave cutter intrigued by my account, gods willing.

Agatha Shornnail

I‘ve had enough of this nonsense! I swear I don‘t know how you
addle-coved leatherheads get so led astray from the basic facts.
Repeat after me: the Shadow Plane is an Inner Plane! One might
even go so far as to call it a demiplane, but we‘ll put that debate
aside. The point is, it‘s the result of intermingling essence from the
other Inner Planes, most prominently the Energy Planes, but the
Elemental as well. That‘s why the Shadow Plane looks like it does;
dark, perpetual twilight, with everything comprised of a semi-real
substance that‘s both solid and gaseous. All the elementals
combine, diluting their characteristics and cohesiveness, and are
infused with both positive and negative energy, giving form to the
shadowstuff that fills the plane.

Yes, I know the Shadow Plane is accessible from both the Prime
Material and Outer Planes! What sort of cony-catcher do you take
me for? There‘s no contradiction in aspects of the Inner Planes
being accessible elsewhere in the Great Ring. After all, it‘s not like
we‘re bereft of earth and air here in the Outlands. And it‘s no
surprise that the Shadow Plane here is shallow, a largely empty
reflection without much substance of its own. It‘s just a small trail
left in the wake of the interaction between positive and negative
energy, like smoke from a fire, or mud left at a riverbank.

That being said, I‘d steer clear of it like a Taker with a charity function. The place is unstable enough, and it
quite probably has a corrosive effect on real matter. I suspect that the people and beasts, shades and
shadows of every sort, that have been seen there are all that remains of some leatherhead sods that stayed in
the Shadow Plane for too long. Just you wait, now that more planewalkers are exploring the Shadow border to
the Outer Planes, it‘ll be filled with more and more shadow-things. Nonsense, all of it, sodding adventurers
traveling around looking for trouble when they could learn the real dark of things in a good book!

Stryx Karven The Demiplane of Shadow, the Shadowlands, or simply the Shadow. The Shadow Plane has
had many names and has served many roles for different worlds and cultures. Most planars view it as an
immense demiplane within the Deep Ethereal, perhaps an Inner Plane in its own right. Primes, on the other
hand, often think it to be a sinister duplicate of their own world, a coexistent realm of dark prophecy and
nightmarish monsters. A few even believe the Shadow Plane is a pathway to the Lower Planes and the evil
beings that reign there. And from their limited perspective they are all correct. Yet they haven‘t even begun to
grasp the true dark of it. Its nature requires that it be shrouded in mystery, that outsiders never have a full
understanding of what it is. It has hidden its many secrets since the beginning of time, misleading those who
attempt to explore too deeply, taunting them with half-truths wrapped in lies. Yet as much as it conceals the
truth, the Shadow wishes to be known.

All that is denied and forgotten comes to the Shadow. Think of those memories too horrible to recall, the ones
you bury deep in your mind to a place where they can‘t hurt you anymore, where they can‘t be found. To a
place you don‘t want to exist. The Shadow. Consider your own dark side, the inner conflicts and faults we all
discover in ourselves. Those things that we attempt to overcome, banish, and deny ever existed. Denial is its
own force; it allows us to repress our worst memories and inclinations, to ignore the things that we don‘t wish
to see, and to refute that which stands right before our eyes. Imagine the denial of everyone in the multiverse,
pooled together to shelter us from the things we aren‘t willing to accept. That is the Shadow, a hidden space
maintained by the will of the entire multiverse.

265
Driven by our collective will, the Shadow shows us what we can handle and hides the things we do not wish to
confront or believe so that it cannot haunt us. There, in the Shadow, these concepts gather and wait it
bitterness, loving and hating the cosmos that denies them, wishing to be born again. Empowered by our
hunger for the truth, and the urge to defy limitations, this desire to be known shapes the Shadow‘s will. Thus,
it tempts outsiders that come searching the darkness with the secrets it holds. It tries and tests those who
enter seeking knowledge or power, simultaneously attempting to crush and elevate. The Shadow is not
sentient, but is very much alive. It both loves and hates the light, and the existence it represents, as one
cannot be without the other. But the Shadow is neither evil nor good, neither purely mental nor completely
physical. Rather, it is a defensive shield around our minds and bodies that protects us by holding us back.

A realm of denial and half-truths, yes, but where does it fit in? Where does it belong? These questions mean
much to planewalkers, who survive by knowing the rules and conditions of the planes they travel. The Great
Ring of the Multiverse provides important perspective, guidelines for what to expect. But what if you were to
learn that this grand design was meaningless, that it was no more valid than the beliefs of the simplest prime?
What if you were told that there were no true planar pathways, or order to the layout of the planes? You would
discard this knowledge, of course; write it off as mad ravings and continue secure in your certainty. Another
thought banished to the Shadow, another idea too absurd to be considered, while the Great Ring is
brandished as the layout of the multiverse. And thus the lie grows and spreads.

Consider a world where the inhabitants believe in one afterlife, one plane where all souls go. That belief forms
a connection through the Astral to that plane in the Outer Planes, and when someone dies, they pass through
and become petitioners on that plane because of their belief. Unbeknownst to them, these primes have
unconsciously denied the existence of all the other Outer Planes. To them these other planes do not exist, and
thus they cannot reach them in death or through magic. Their belief has formed a blockade to other beliefs, a
wall of denial limiting their minds‘ ability to see other possibilities. This wall is the Shadow; it is the will of
countless billions manifested by the accepting of one existence over another. On the Shadow, this denial is
represented by an immense barrier of thick shadowstuff that makes it nearly impossible for locals or outsiders
to cross. The Shadow shows the primes what they want to see, hides everything else, and makes it difficult for
challenges to their worldview to emerge.

The Shadow determines the connection and position

to all planes based on our beliefs, preventing us
from going to places we do not believe exist or are
accessible. It is possible, even probable, that the
Great Ring of the multiverse is not the true shape of
the cosmos. Maybe the primes are correct about the
Great Wheel, but more likely, the Shadow clouds
their minds as well as our own. The multiverse is a
ring to us because our belief defines it as one, we
refuse anything else, and the Shadow adjusts to
make it so. Think of the arrogant manner in which
planars treat primes who go on about the shape of
the multiverse. Consider how many worlds, planes,
and possibilities might still be hidden from reach
because they do not coincide with our beliefs. But
think of what it means to tear down everything you
think you knew about the multiverse, about reality,
about your life. That is why we continue to feed the
Shadow, that is why it so dutifully guards its secrets.

Even these words are rendered lies. By accepting

this view, others are rejected. Believe me if you like,
or discover your own truth if you dare. Hate me for
destroying your cozy illusion of the multiverse, or
love me for opening your eyes. I care not for your
opinions or values, or for those of your faction or
deity. Simply know that if you come with the intention
of fitting the Shadow into your idea of a cosmology,
you have already failed.

266
 Dream

[Editor‘s Note: The pseudo-plane of Dream is closely linked to the Wall of Color of the Ethereal. It has been
theorized that this plane is a sublayer of the Ethereal, but no evidence along those lines has been provided.
Active attempts to reach the plane of Dream at the Wall of Color have failed miserably, but at least one
traveler I know of has slipped into a realm that seems to match the descriptions of the pseudo-plane. Her
method of traveling there? She got very bored waiting for her party to catch up with her at the Wall… and
simply took a nap. Unfortunately, I have not made it out to test this technique myself.]

Damien Huckle

Hey, hey, hey. Um, let‘s sit, yeah, and have a drink. Been a while since I was in the ol‘ “City of Cages”, are
whatever ya call this burg now. Did it always smell this bad? Sorry; spend enough time in the Dream, and you
forget just how ugly the waking world can be. But then you want to know all about the Dream, 'eh? Planning
on giving this place the laugh? Well, I can‘t encourage you more. A body can spend their life eating the same
meal over and over again, or hit the all-you-can-eat buffet, ya know?

So let‘s cover the basics, ya? The Plane of Dreams is trivially easy to get into; go to sleep, and there you are,
your own personal dreamscape! But that don‘t do you a ton of good, cause then it‘s running the show and
you‘re just along for the ride. This is the first of many reasons to master the fine art of lucid dreaming. With
some work, you catch on that you‘re in the Dream, and with a bit more effort, you can take control. Affecting
your own dreamscape is fairly easy, and with that, you can make your own personal paradise! Sweet deal, ya
know?

While you‘re sleeping, there‘s not much that can happen in the Dream that‘ll do any harm to ya. 'Course,
problem being you‘re gonna wake up eventually, and then you‘re in this crap-pile of a multiverse again.
Moving physically into the Plane of Dreams is the answer, though it ain‘t easy. There ain‘t any natural portals
to my knowledge, just the occasional rifts that occur once every few centuries when something really strange
happens. Some berks go on about the Ethereal, but I don‘t know anything about the Inner Planes, and I don‘t
wanna. So, that leaves a good ol‘ plane shift. There‘s a catch, though: it‘ll take you right to the Dreamheart.

The Dreamheart is sorta the center of the Dream, where all the dream-stuff runs wild and the dreamscapes
themselves are born and die. However, it‘s not nearly as malleable as the rest o‘ the plane. If you don‘t have
protection from everything—and I do mean everything!—you‘re gonna take a beating. And once you‘ve
actually moved into the Dream, well, then things can hurt you. 'Course, everything follows the rules of the
dream world, and they hardly stay the same for long. And if you‘re really unlucky, some nightmare creature
beyond reason will just show up and swallow you whole.

Supposedly there‘s an eye to the tempest, a safe spot from the wild dream-stuff, but none of the
dreamwalkers I‘ve bantered with have the same thing to say about what‘s there. Me? Me, me, me…I saw a
pair of doors, real big, sitting quietly in the storm. Looked like a gate to another cosmos, it did, but I didn‘t go
through. There was this snake to end all snakes hanging around it, and I wasn‘t too confident 'bout sneaking
past. I‘m mighty curious, ya know, but then, I can always just imagine what‘s on the other side, and be there!

That‘s the beauty of the Dream. With some practice in that lucid dreaming I mentioned, you can escape the
Dreamheart and enter someone else‘s dreamscape. And then ya can take it over and make it what you want!
Soon as the dreamscape bursts, or gets boring, hop over to
another and start over. It‘s not like most dreamers even know
what‘s going on, let alone can fight you for their dreams! And when
they try it‘s a real laugh. Really though, it‘s the best sort of
adventure available. The Dream gives ya access to the entire
multiverse‘s wildest dreams, and there‘s no short of variety. Sure,
a few berks call me a “dream-harvester”, as if that‘s something
bad, just cause I‘m acquiring a dreamscape or two. But I figure I‘m
doing a service for 'em, adding some twists to their usual dreams,
ya know?

267
 Tha’naton Githmir

In my dreams, the Lich-Queen lives. In my dreams, the githyanki hunt traitors such as myself to the ends of
the multiverse, burning everything in their wake. They are not pleasant dreams. My former mentor, dead by
my hands, would have said that these nightmares are a sign of weakness, that my soul is troubled by the
crimes I have committed against the Lich-Queen. Perhaps that is how it started, but now…now my dreams do
not die when I wake. Now they are with me always, a living tormentor on the edge of my consciousness,
waiting for my mind to drift, to slide into the Region of Dreams. This I know.

Dreamscapes are the product of our minds, mental spaces conceived into existence and contained within the
Region of Dreams. The Dream itself is less a plane than a horizon; picture the dreaming minds of a plane
drifting away to create a place unfettered by nature or reason. Like bubbles rising to the surface, these
dreamscapes are transient, fragile. But for that brief time, the multiverse is exactly as the mind makes it. The
Region of Dreams is the collection of these pocket realities, side by side, yet rarely interacting. This I know.

Somewhere, in that plane that is not a plane, there is a dreamscape which owes its existence to me. Most
dreamscapes are short-lived, existing in the lifespan of those ephemeral moments of sleep or daydreaming.
But some grow too strong, and refuse to die. I have heard that phantoms can escape from such dream worlds
and become real. Other times, the dreams simply go on and refuse to allow the dreamer to depart. I have
escaped mine…but it waits for me, and should I sleep I will return to that hell, a nightmare of my mind‘s
creation. Why do our own dreams give birth to such dangers? This I do not know.

So I remain awake, and soon I will embark upon a quest to slay my dreams. It is said that the Wall of Color
that separates the Deep Ethereal from the Border Ethereal Plane holds a path to the Region of Dreams, and
that one can find the oldest and largest dreamscapes there. If that is true, then I will find my dreamscape, my
tormentor, and tear it apart. It must be true. What I have created, I can destroy. This I know.

Natalya Cadowag

So, you finally wish to have a fey‘s perspective on the Dream? You‘ve been looking around for some account
from us to add to your little book, have you not? My son‘s view a little too “simple” for you? Yet, only now do
you come to me. Are the Unseelie so untrustworthy, so distasteful to you? No, do not answer, your discomfort
is a sweet elixir, and I relish its taste. I shall tell you of the Dream, so precious to those of the twilight world,
and so mysterious to your simple readers. It would be cruel not to repay you for your generous offering, after
all.

Wonder, change, chaos, dynamism, flux. All of these things describe the Dream, but none do it adequate
justice. It is not one more plane to be added to models of the Great Ring, it is the Great Ring itself, the
multiverse in its natural form. In time before time, when no
mortals or gods muddied existence, there was just the Dream.
Impossible and imaginary had no meaning; reality was raw and
unrestrained, a portrait that had yet to be framed. Bit by bit, the
planes were born, and that which was came to be and that
which wasn‘t was forced away. That is how the Dream became
what it is, slowly pushed away from an emerging Creation until it
existed only at the edges, or in small oases sheltered from
simple minds.

I hope your readers will not be insulted, my words are but the
simple truth. It is best they know the truth, for it is your kind that
has lost. The Dream is as it has always been, filled with the most
unimaginable wonders and terrors, a refuge for unexplored
hopes and fears. They are given free reign, unbound by logic or
will. Yes, I have heard silly tales of planewalkers said to have
mastered the Dream and made it their own. Fanciful stories,
perhaps inspired by my kin. Even we do not deign to rule the
Dream, but befriend it, and enjoy it‘s bounties.

268
 Temporal Prime

Marianna Kaylan

Now listen here, cutter, the Plane of Temporal Energy is just a fancy name for something that‘s been a part of
every plane in the multiverse since time began. It‘s not really a separate place at all, but another dimension
that we‘re traveling through all the time. That‘s why they call it a pseudo-plane, ya know? Which isn‘t to say I
haven‘t been there! Oh ho, you can certainly make your way there, just like you can go to all sorts of places
that aren‘t really places (the Astral comes to mind). The trick is to get your bonebox in the right frame of mind
and look at the movement of time as something other than a one-way road.

Ever experience time moving faster when you‘re having a good time, or slowing down when things are boring
and tedious? How about those brief moments when you know what‘s going to happen before it does, or when
you remember the past so strongly it seems to become real? Traveling through Temporal Energy is just like
that, only you harness the feelings to move in any direction you please, freeing you to see the past or future or
even witness alternate timelines that never actually happened. It‘s not easy, and very very few Sensates have
tumbled to the dark of it. But then, that‘s what makes me so special!

Now, just as moving through Temporal Energy is a matter of perspective, so is its appearance and nature. I
know one blood that views it as a chaotic realm of whirling sand where visions of different places and times
can occasionally be seen through the storm. Someone else once told me it was a great river running through
a star-filled black expanse. Me, I envision it as a winding stairway with doors to different time periods running
around it. What you‘re capable of doing and what dangers there are seem to adapt to how you view the plane.
There‘s not much consistency, and no apparent way to change it, but then, it‘s all your mind trying its hardest
to interpret the plane to begin with.

Before any would-be time travelers get any barmy ideas, you can‘t actually travel to different times through the
Temporal Energy Plane, only project your mind to sense events as they happen then. Maybe if there was
some magic to physically enter the plane, but then that‘d required some major power. And if it were possible,
wouldn‘t the gods be doing it all the time?

A Strange Letter

[Editor's note: This letter was discovered by an associate of mine some years ago on the body of a young
man in the woods of Shurrock in Bytopia. While divinations were able to establish some level of authenticity,
its true meaning or the identity of the author remains a mystery. Perhaps one of my readers will have some
insights, and so I include it here for all to decipher.]

There’s something strange going on with the timestreams of Bytopia. I’ve been studying the threads of
Dothion’s potential futures, attempting to determine if there’s any point where the cycle of expansion and
settlement will end and the nature of the plane itself will change. No luck so far, but I’ve noticed something
even more interesting. Of the thousands of timestreams I’ve noted, a significant number of them are abruptly
terminating. You are of course familiar with what that indicates: the destruction of every sentient creature on
the layer, perhaps even the destruction of the plane itself.

This would seem to indicate some sort of mass cataclysm. I’ve heard of such things happening on prime
worlds, but on an Outer Plane? I have difficulty contemplating the implications that might have on the Great
Wheel. The mist-smoke prevents me from plotting the repercussions on other planes from my position in
Temporal Prime, which is why I’m leaving this message for you to find. I need you to try to get in contact with
Bytopia’s division of the Order, and to bring me Saxrin’s notes, the stuff he left behind before he was Mazed
by the Lady of Sigil. He had more experience with the Temporal Prime for the Outer Planes, I’m hoping
something of his will be useful.

It’s looking like the hand of fate at work. The farther I look ahead, the more timestreams seem to converge. I
haven’t attempted to enter and see what happens myself; the last thing I want is become caught in a temporal
flux as the world’s ending. What’s more, there’s a swarm of time dimensionals feeding off the disturbances in
the timelines, and one warned me against tampering. For now I’m searching for any lifelines that play a
common role in the timestreams, trying to identify any individuals that may be responsible for what’s to come.
I’ll leave the question of interference to the Order. Either way, it should make for a very interesting study.
-J

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 Jaded Black

Once upon a time there was a Demiplane of Time sitting idly in the Deep Ethereal. Not many people sought it
out or tried to enter it because it was surrounded by all sorts of temporal anomalies, and who wants to be
aged into an old man or reduced to a child in a few miserable moments? Greybeards argued back and forth
about its true nature and whether it was a real plane, a gateway to another era, or a place outside time as we
know it. All in all, everyone ignored them though, cause really, what did they know of it?

Then some berk takes a look at a model of the multiverse and decides it‘s not good enough anymore. Not
enough rings and not enough groups of three. So the model is twisted some, a few planes are stretched or
invented, and then we have the new and improved Great Ring. Best of all are these new pseudo-planes that
aren‘t really planes - that stretch around the entire multiverse and have all sorts of weird properties to them.
Now we have a hidden Plane of Time, and every sodding planewalker thinks they can start hopping around
time, while the truly barmy want to start rewriting history.

Listen here, there‘s no Plane of Time, or if there is, it‘s not a place you can go to. There are no portals leading
to it, no spells that take you there. The closest thing is the Demiplane of Time—it‘s still the Deep Ethereal, by
the way. But if you don‘t want to end up in the dead-book, leave it be. I‘ve been there, I know. There‘s these
chords and threads shooting off in every direction, some glowing brightly and others emanating darkness
itself. And all sorts of things there that will make your head burst and blood if you try too hard to think about
them. Chronovoids, temporal gliders, temporal stalkers, time dimensionals, and worse things.

Still, folk think it‘s all worth the risk, wager they can travel to the past and do things over. Guess what, berk?
They can‘t! I‘ve seen enough buddies grab onto those threads and disappear, never to be heard from again.
Meanwhile, I get reduced to the age of a small child, defenseless and forced to go through some of the worst
years all over again. Some things just weren‘t meant to be explored!

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 Chapter 9: DM’s Dark
Well, by now a canny cutter like yourself is itching to gather your favorite victi—ahem—players, and start
running a game. Of course, if you‘re completely green to the task you could always use a little bit of advice on
where to start. And if you‘re old-hat, a little bit of a refresh couldn‘t hurt, now could it?
This chapter of the PSCS aims to help any new GMs out there who don‘t have anyone locally they can turn to
for advice on some of the common or stereotypical problems with a planar game. We‘ve tried to cover the
̳
major issues‘ that creep up for bashers lost in a sea of clueless, and of course if you have a question that
isn‘t answered here, please feel free to drop by Planewalker.com and we‘ll be glad to give some extra advice.

Preparing the Game

Starting advice for a Planescape campaign is the same as it is for any other game really: Define what sort of a
campaign you‘re looking to run. A planar campaign can have as wide or as narrow a scope as you like, and
any sort of tone that you care to adopt. It can be handy to have the following questions answered before you
begin working on a grand idea that your group isn‘t interested in or ready for:

Will this be a single plane or multi-plane campaign?

Making this decision in advance allows you to focus your research and your player‘s character concepts. The
multiverse is huge and can be a very overwhelming place for DMs, so it is very useful to consider the scope of
your campaign. Will the heroes be seasoned planewalkers, jaunting through portals at the drop of hat? Or will
they be residents of Sigil's Hive Ward, caught up in faction politics and city life. The material in the Planescape
Campaign Setting can be used in a number of ways. No one says you have to throw everything plus the
kitchen sink into your game. Remember, you can always add more if you need to later.
There are two types of campaigns in general: The constantly moving and the staying put.
If you go for a planewalking style of campaign,
you will have to do less detailed planning at the
start. Your players won‘t be staying in town too
long. But your time planning each week will
involve research on each new location for every
adventure. You‘ll have to have a good way to
keep your players constantly on the go.
Mercenary work is one good way to get your
players out on the road, and it is easy to find with
the Blood War or the Planar Trade Consortium.
Certain places are also easy to fit into this sort of
a game as such as Sigil, the Outlands, the Great
Tree Yggdrasil, the Styx, the Astral and Ethereal.
These are useful as headquarters or a common
travel point.
In a regional campaign, you can work from a
smaller base of information and as the campaign
progresses new areas can be introduced.
However, this style requires more initial effort such
as figuring out familiar haunts and contacts from
the characters' daily routines. You will need to
focus on the characters given to you by your
players in order to get them involved in their
environment. Work as much of their character
background into your plans as you can. Your
players and the game will appreciate the extra
effort.

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What tone will your game have?
If you approach your game with a grim darkness or a surreal sense of humor your players will respond in kind.
The tone for your game is going to establish your players‘ responses to the entire campaign. So it‘s
worthwhile to find out from your players what sort of game they are interested in.
On the planes one is most aware of the meaning of belief and existence in the multiverse. This lends towards
characters that know, or think they know, exactly what‘s going on and have a wider perspective than the
casual fates of small kingdoms on tiny prime worlds. Planewalkers realize the real conflicts of the multiverse
have gone on for millennia and, despite the lofty intentions of many, they have seen firsthand the damage
such struggles have wrought. By default, Planescape has a cynical and jaded tone.
But for your game, you have the option of approaching the planes from any point of view you like. It is your
game after all.
You may instead decide to pick up on the idealism of the factions, or of the Upper or Lower (if your game
leans that way) planes. You may choose to focus on the results one sees from victories, small or large. If your
players prefer the non-serious, you may find it easier to approach the planes with a entirely carefree plot in
mind.

How socially oriented will your plot be?

While the multiverse offers its fair share of everything, there should always be a strong social element to
Planescape games. Politics can be found everywhere from the Cage, to the Lower Planes, Upper Planes, and
Inner Planes. And that‘s not even counting the wheeling and dealing in the Blood War itself. Most aspects of
Planescape have some sort of political structure, even amongst the free spirited people of the Chaotic Planes,
and it should show its ugly head fairly often.
Politics and diplomacy are why the planes are in their
current state and are the tools needed to keep it all in
check. The wheeling and dealing of the political machine
gives the players a chance to truly role-play and often
illustrates the reasons why a hack-and-slash mentality is
not the solution to everything. If your players aren‘t
interested then you can play it down, but don‘t remove it
entirely, they may gain an interest in it once they have a feel
for the planes.

What are the players’ ultimate

goals for the campaign?
Are they looking to play a political game? Perhaps they‘d
rather it be combat-oriented or mystery driven? You should
always ask your players this question for any game you
run, not just Planescape.
Ask your players to list three things they want to do. These
goals do not have to be grand and the players should
understand that they may not accomplish all of them, but it
will certainly give you something to work with for your plot.
For example, these goals may include simply meeting a
power or becoming a golden Lord of Sigil. Your player may
wish to become immortal, or rule their own demiplane.
These sorts of goals will give you inspiration when you
most need it, and you‘ll be guaranteed to have at least one
player interested in your next plot hook.
Another way to gather this information is to draw up a list of
elements that can be included in a campaign and give a
copy to each of the players. Ask them to put a check next to
the top of elements that they are interested in.

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Example elements may include:

Combat Philosophical debate Inter-group conflict

Puzzles Dungeon crawls Intra-group conflict

Intrigue Defeating a great foe Pirates

Politics Large-scale wars Ninjas

Diplomacy Defending a region Knighthood

Exploration On-the-run adventures Criminal underworlds

Romance Themed party creation Treasure hunting

Paid missions Open-ended scenarios Courtly drama

Who are your main characters?

It‘s been said before, but always bears repeating: the players are the focus of your game.
It can be tempting to have a plot in a Planescape campaign that draws in factols and gods from across the
multiverse. A plot which is so epic in scope that your players end up vanishing. But if the story simply leaves
them as bystanders to greater events, it is likely the players will become bored and frustrated long before
they‘ve come to appreciate your elaborate designs.
Take the time to work with the players as they create character histories. This will help you to have a good
understanding of their backgrounds and interests,. It also provides you the opportunity to make suggestions
for patrons and enemies. Then you can build your campaign around key figures and organizations that the
players already have an established relationship with. Once you know your characters, you can adapt almost
any adventure into your campaign with just a few tweaks, no matter if it‘s your own or a published adventure.

The Planescape Twist

Every conceivable campaign, in every conceivable world, is a

subset of a Planescape campaign. Planescape can serve as
an explanation for the existence of other realms of
consciousness, otherworldly creatures, artifacts, gods and
the afterlife. It also allows you as the DM to select from
drastically different places and situations, contrasting
differing ways of life focusing on particular ideas and
concepts.

So what is a Planescape campaign?

Is it about the movers and the shakers—the creatures from
the pits of the Lower Planes as well as the celestial entities
from the highest heights? Is it about strange locations with
exotic names, and the hardened travelers who would brave
the planar pathways to find them? Or is it perhaps about the
challenging philosophies and the ideas of alien thinkers,
colliding worldviews, and the fact that a single idea can
reshape the multiverse like nothing else could ever hope to?

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Yes, the last one rings true.
Planescape is about belief. It's about holding up a mirror to the real world and seeing a fantastic and distorted
reality containing elements of truth. Whose truth, we do not ask. In essence, though, this is what differentiates
Planescape from ordinary planar adventures.
In practice, you will find that a Planescape campaign should always have a strong theme. This theme (or
themes, as the case may be) can make or break the campaign, and shape the direction your entire story will
take.
It can be simple: “Truth is in the eye of the beholder.”
Complex: “Infinity and entropy are contradictory yet cannot exist without each other.”
Traditional: “A single world takes shape from all the other worlds. All the worlds take shape from belief. The
City of Doors is at the center of belief. And the factions seek to influence it.”
Or brand new: “When mind and spirit are one, the Astral will no longer be a barrier between the Prime and the
Outer Planes.”
The potential is endless, which is why it is important to give the campaign shape and form by using thematic
elements.
Your theme should be dynamic and powerful. A good Planescape campaign will challenge the beliefs of both
the characters and the player. The very best games are spoken of and debated about for years afterwards,
because they concerned themselves with something that is important to the players. The nature of justice and
honor, the value of charity and self- sufficiency, the conflict between harmony and freedom; these are
meaningful issues in real life and in imaginary worlds.
But don‘t forget the fun! Roleplaying is all about fun, too. The players aren't just sitting around a table,
philosophizing about the price of fish! They are visiting exotic locations and browsing strange ideas and
characters that color in the theme of the campaign. They are philosophers with clubs and with dice and with
good friends. No one should be forced to take the theme any more seriously than they'd normally take the
game—but they should all have more fun than usual. That's why we paint the theme with broad, colorful
strokes, filled with humor and our tongues firmly in our cheeks. Because in the end, it is a game.
Bring a level of seriousness to the ideas, but you should still be having fun with it. We'll build a Kafkaesque
metaphor for something that's important, and then we laugh, dispelling the illusion. We get to visit the planes,
and then come home.
Key Elements
There are a number of key elements you can use to build up your Planescape twist‘ ̳ in your campaign. These
are tools that give you the best opportunity to expand on your theme and bring it to your players character as
a concrete element in their world. Use these tools to start. You‘ll be bound to come up with more as you keep
playing. As you develop your plots, locations, and NPCs, just keep these elements in mind and your theme
should develop naturally from there.

Symbolism
Everything, every event, person, book, and word has a second or even third meaning. For example, the River
Styx is not just a river that connects different Lower Planes: in your campaign it may be the embodiment of the
Blood War. As the tide of war swells, so does the river. Where the river flows goes, the War will soon follow,
and vice versa. Sometimes the connection is obvious, sometimes subtle, but it is always there. Belief is often
derived from that symbolism. Of course, you could argue the other way just as easily – but symbolism is one
of the most valuable tools for you to use in your game regardless.

Plotting
Everyone has an agenda, from the lowest namer to the greatest deity. Their agenda dictates their actions.
Adventures such as Faction War and The Fires of Dis are examples of events driven by the antagonists'
agendas. Figuring out what everyone's agenda is can become your players‘ favorite pastime. You should take
the time early on to determine what motivates the NPCs that surround your players.

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Scale
Everything is massive, and by that we mean bigger than life. The important features on a plane may be visible
from where ever you are—the tower of Dispater on Dis for example, or the Spire on the Outlands. This has a
lot to do with symbolism, of course. The trick is not to focus on the empty space that makes up most of an
infinite layer, but on the landmarks. The same goes for the factions, powers, and other aspects of a game.

The Three Laws

There are three Principles in the Planes. Call them laws, rules, themes or what have you – these are patterns
that the greybeards and cutters alike are aware of. These principles can be felt throughout every layer of
every plane, and throughout every era of every age. Given their significance, these themes should pop up in
your own campaign frequently and your players should eventually have the committed to memory.
Rule of Three : Things happen in threes. There are three fiendish races, three celestials, and three neutral
when it comes to morals – just as there are three races of law, three of chaos and three of ethical
ambivalence. There are three types of planes - Inner, Outer and Transitive, and three great planar rivers – the
Sytx, the Oceanus, and the Ma‘at. If you see two opposites – expect a third in the middle, acting as the
median and middle ground. And if you only see two, look for the hidden third – it may contain the secrets of
the multiverse.
Unity of Rings : What goes around comes around. Time and space are circular. History repeats itself, and
karma comes back to bite you in the rear. Good deeds will return to you just as bad ones do, and rings can be
found everywhere. The outer planes, inner planes, the Outlands and even Sigil itself inscribe a circle.
Center of All : No matter where you go, there you are. There is no true center to the multiverse – in the
infinite planes the only center is where you decide to place it, be that yourself, your people – your plane or
even Sigil itself as many try to declare the city to be. Truth is – it could be anywhere.

Belief
Belief drives a Planescape campaign, and a good campaign should challenge the beliefs of both the
characters and the player. When your players walk away from a Planescape epic, they should want to think
about the choices they made and the reasons for them. This is an intellectual game, and considering the
beliefs and motivations of the PCs and NPCs should be a key part of it, while at the same time expecting them
to be challenged and change over time.

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On the planes, belief has a concrete effect on the surroundings, gifting a believer with extraordinary powers or
shaping the very entities and landscapes they interact with. You may need to demonstrate this effect in order
to get it in your player‘s minds, so look for opportunities to show the power of belief. For example, you may
choose to include a set of NPCs that believe a garden into growing or the factol of another group into dying, or
even make belief the focus of a pivotal plot point.

Character Motivations

Need advice for getting the players to risk life and limb on certain planes? It's all a matter of the hook. If there
is any reason for doing anything, you can find an even better reason on the planes. Like any other campaign
setting, getting your characters (and players) passionate about your plot can make or break a game.

Make the goals of adversaries larger than life

It is very possible to destroy all of reality in your plot or at the very least see a whole layer of a plane shift and
an entire way of life irrevocably changed. If what they are doing is important in concrete and realistic ways,
then they will feel important in your plot. When players have played a part in stopping something that is far
larger than themselves, they feel vindicated – and that makes for a memorable game.

Explore new realms

If your players thirst for that undiscovered adventure, give it to them. Their characters may be the first to
discover a lost city, or overcome an unconquered challenge. Secrets are the real source of power out in the
plane and dwell on every plane. And of course, while the experience may be its own reward, there are
treasures never dreamed of just waiting for the clever hand.

Hit close to home

Find something your players personally are interested in, and use it. Obviously, don‘t go out of your way to
drag your players along, but a little bit of a personal touch can serve to drive their
characters‘ motivations along the paths you need them to go. Talk to your players about philosophy and find
out what they think, then use that in future sessions.

Develop player trust

If the players think the DM is trying to kill their characters or couldn't care less if their characters perished in a
random lava flow, then they're unlikely to be willing to visit any dangerous location. Dangerous locations might
be construed as half the planes in existence!
Build their trust in you and inspire your players to have their characters follow their beliefs wherever they lead
and you'll end up with a campaign that your players will talk about for years to come. While you shouldn‘t
move heaven and earth to protect the characters from foolish choices, if the players know that the DM is in
essence on their side, then they'll be more willing to take chances. Reward your players for trusting you in the
end.

Troubleshooting the Game

This chapter cannot cover every troublesome point that you may run across in a game, but we‘ll try our best to
get you started with some of the problems you may run into when you first start running Planescape, or when
your players are new to the game themselves.

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Scale and Scope
For a lot of new DMs the planes just seem so big. The first question usually asked is “Where do I start?” Of
course, the answer is “Wherever you like”.

If you're overwhelmed, start small. You may find it useful to narrow your game down to Sigil and the Outlands
and expand from there. Take baby steps until you and the players get a feel for each other and the setting.
You could introduce a single, easily accessible planar location to your (mostly) Prime Material campaign. Then
send the characters on a single adventure to Sigil, and see how easily it is to reel them back in to the Cage...
give them a villain from Pandemonium that they have to get help from Arborea to defeat. Then introduce them
to a helpful fellow who just happens to be the captain of an inner-planar cruiser! Start with an adventure. Then
add a little something. Next time, add a little more.
There's no need to be overwhelmed when the only one who dictates how much you use is you.
Instead of considering what planes and locations the characters might choose to hop to next, ask yourself,
“What location will the characters benefit from going to next?” The planes should be a bizarre, eye opening
experience wherein anything can happen and often will. Planescape is all about possibilities, and even more
so about impossibilities. Here you will encounter things and ideas you would never find tied to a Prime
Material realm. The planes should awe and inspire you in ways nothing else can. If the prime characters (and
players at times) are not flabbergasted on a regular basis, then you are missing the point of the setting.

Keeping it Organized
Well, some of it is really is best to commit to memory, to tell you the truth. But you don't have to remember
everything. For planes such as Limbo and the Abyss, it's usually best not to remember anything, and just
come up with something new on the spot, flavored with the character of the plane. However, this is clearly not
always possible. Sometimes, you have to refer to the books or a previously prepared datasheet just in order to
maintain coherence. So what to do?
One way to get around not knowing all the details is to rarely give your players answers to their questions out
of character. Encourage them to ask someone in-character for the information. Learning as a character is
generally more fun than simply being given an answer and it promotes role-playing interaction. Not all NPCs
know the answer and even if they did, they might simply lie or only reveal a portion of the truth. If you ever
contradict yourself, you can always blame the NPC and even develop a plot around the unintentional error. In
the event that you don't know the answer when they ask, it also buys you some time to look it up between
sessions later without disrupting the game flow.
Ignore all the rules that make things difficult for you. If it's not adding anything to the adventure, making things
interesting or mischievously difficult, then just don't use it. Flipping though a book for an obscure answer is
rarely fun for your players. The only thing you have to do is realize when this is appropriate and when it isn't. If
your players question you about it, tell the truth – you‘re simply ignoring those details to speed up the game.
-Taking a long trek across the Gray Wastes
for the first time, with low-level characters?
-Bring up the book and hit them with
everything in it.
-Making a routine trek over Acheron's cubes?
Ignore everything you don't recall at the top of
your head.
-Encounter between some total clueless and
a baatezu in Avernus? Take just one effect
you can remember and overdo it, so it's
memorable. Ignore everything else.
-Experienced planewalkers fighting a royal
fiend on their home plane? Bring up a couple
of the advantages that the fiend has and
ignore the rest.

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At the table, you‘ll find that you need to let the adventure flow, so if you find yourself going through a lot of
books during a session - start cutting corners. One memorable rule is better than twenty tiny ones. Planes
contain infinite possibility. You can take the bits you like and drop the bits you don't.

Introducing Players
Now that you‘ve got the hang of things and want to start running a full-on Planescape campaign with politics,
planars, powers, proxies, and other p-words, go with Sigil. It‘s often easiest to have a party of prime
characters, or at least clueless planars (they do exist). That way the players will go through the same journey
of discovery as their characters. They‘ll remember the details better that way too. Treasure their cluelessness!
The journey is the thing!

Min-Maxers in Planescape
Now that you‘ve got your players settled into the game, they‘ve realized the scope of the planes and are using
everything from every supplement they can get their paws on. They‘re chewing through your big bad guys like
they‘re merely scenery. This isn‘t just a Planescape problem of course, but given the scope of the planes it
can be difficult to say no to a player‘s request for some nifty feat, class, or item without saying ―Are you
insane? That‘ll break my game!‖. As a DM you may need to say that every once in awhile, but sometimes
something will just slip past and you‘ll have to deal with it.
As the DM, give the opponents the same sort of advantages that the players have. No module writer and no
DM, can think of every scenario, so you may have to use the same tricks against them. Watch as they come
up with three different ways of beating their very own tactic. It's elementary to *any* kind of D&D campaign,
not just Planescape.
Remember that Planescape is as much a thinking game as anything else. If you‘re having this sort of trouble
in your game, you‘ll need to find situations that don‘t play to the dice. Min- maxers can‘t do a lot to wriggle out
of a political situation and not every situation can be resolved by killing the bad guy behind the plot.
In the end, your players will have to realize that Planescape isn't about bashing the big monsters, or being the
biggest bad on the block. There are things out there on the planes that are so infinitely beyond the mortal
power range that there is no need to roll dice should they ever come into conflict. This is why we focus on the
ideas and the adventures themselves. If your group is all min-maxy, then I dare say they probably won't enjoy
Planescape as it is meant to be enjoyed.
With any luck, you can train them out of it.

Supply and Demand

Magic items are a dime a dozen in some campaigns and money can quickly become dull and boring. Money
comes and goes, and magic items wear out if they have charges. So
to immortal beings – fiend and celestial alike - they just can‘t be
easily bought with such things. After awhile you‘ll want to give your
players some other reward instead. Favors, knowledge, and souls
are much more lasting currencies, and much more interesting to the
players.
Favors are a deciding factor in politics, along with bribery and
blackmail. A wise player values the boons owed by a high-up in any
city or organization. Use favors to get your players involved in the
politics surrounding them, and to give them access to people and
places they otherwise would have no way to reach.
A canny cutter will ask for knowledge in payment. Knowing where
something is, or how to perform an otherwise difficult to learn skill will
pay off later when it is needed to survive or turn a profit. You may
choose to give such knowledge in the form of mechanical bonuses to
skills, or in the form of contacts and maps to new locations (and
adventures). Use whatever works for your game.

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The most prominent currency on the Lower Planes is souls. Glittering little gems with the captured souls of the
powerful or innocent and larvae petitioners by the dozen. This is something that your players should both be
aware of, and wary of. They are walking currency. When dealing with fiendish sorts, they should be well aware
of it. Allow your players to bargain with their souls, but so do carefully, as it could break your game – or make
for a spectacular campaign.

Suggested Levels
Planescape suffers from the stereotype that a character must be 'this many levels tall in order to play‘. This is
complete and utter screed. No particular levels are any easier or harder than the next in the planes. There will
always be weaker beings in the multiverse than your characters, just as there will always be stronger ones.
Planescape is extraordinarily malleable when it comes to personal power.
There is no correlation between specific planes and specific levels. True, some places are harder to survive
than others. This may depend on the plane‘s natural environment, such as the Elemental Plane of Fire or
Water, whilst others depend on the natives, or a combination of the two. Sigil is often a good starting location
and the Outlands as a whole do not require equipment that would be out of the price range of a starting party.
There are always ways around lack of equipment or spells. A creative group will find a way. If they are feeling
the pinch though, as the DM you should provide alternatives: wands, scrolls, or even simply renting equipment
from a local Lower Ward magic-shop.
It is worthwhile to impress upon players is that character level is not significant in Planescape. Everything in
the planes is powerful, much of it more powerful than they when it comes to personal ability. But a quick wit
and sharp mind will get them much further than a ton of hit points and a magical sword of slaying ever will.
Planer beings respect power, but recognize that power of the body is rarely the greatest form. Where your
characters might not be able to slay a greater baatezu, they very well may be able to talk it out of slaying them
—or better yet, start a rapport with lasting benefits... and consequences.

There’s Always a Bigger Fish

You may run into the situation in your game where your players suddenly look up at you and say: ―Wait.
Don‘t we have gods for saving the universe? Why us?‖ Of course, long before you get to this point in your
game you‘ll want to have gotten them hot under the collar at your villain, or otherwise obligated to fight the
good fight so they should never have to ask – but there may come a time when your players still see fit to
question why the fate of the universe falls on their shoulders when there seem to be far more able-bodied
powers on hand. So what do you do?
It‘s not a question you can easily ignore or dismiss, and not having an answer can undermine the tone of your
entire game. There are a few ways out of this: your powers, avatars, or whomever the party wishes to dump
the problem on – may be concerned with other, more pressing dangers. They may even be totally unavailable
(captured by your villain, for example). Another tactic is to suggest that the party itself is being used as the
representative of the entities' will on the planes. The conflict may be a test of their quality.
Mortals are very valuable to the powers since they are a source of belief, so the trials and increased faith of
their followers make for good motivation for a power to seemingly “ignore” a request to take care of the
problem themselves. It may even be that the power has a much longer view of events than any mortal does,
and thereby knows that things have a tendency to even out in the long run or follow a preordained path, and
therefore has little concern for the immediate trend of events.
Unfortunately there is no easy answer to a question of this nature, so you may have to tailor something to
your game specifically. In any case, have some explanation ready, as adventuring on the planes tends to get
your players thinking about why they seem to always be acting as the authorities no matter where they go.

Travel in the Planes

Planewalking is about travel and there are many ways of getting about even at low level by means of portals,
gates, vortices, conduits, spells, magical items, and special abilities. All of these can be used to travel the
planes and all will have an impact on how the group gets around.

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Give your players enough freedom to go exactly where you want them to go.
The means of reaching one plane to the next is a way to control the flow of the game. That's not to say that a
GM should take a draconian approach, restricting their players to only travel along one preplanned route. Give
the characters some choices. While the way is not always immediately obvious, a little work will soon reveal a
few appealing (or sometimes less than appealing) options. And in all fairness, at higher levels a party should
have very little problems traveling the planes. Between fly, teleport, dimension door, plane shift, and other
spells, they can get around. Non-spell casting characters should be able to procure flying carpets, wings of
flying, boots of levitation, bracers of teleportation, scrolls of... you get the idea.
There‘s always Sigil available, but if your party is uninterested in the City of Doors, there are other options.
The Infinite Staircase could provide your players with many paths and the Planewalker's Guild at the base of
the stairs makes for a great headquarters as well. Any of the planar pathways like the Styx, Oceanus, or
Yggdrasil could be your ticket. You could even use a magical artifact like a Well of Worlds or Cubic Gate,
though those are hardly tools you should provide if you intend to have any sort of control over where your
adventurers are going.
It is important to note that not all places are accessible by magic. Make special note of the restrictions on
spells that require the Astral or Ethereal Plane. Use and abuse the notion of wards and spells to prevent
divination and travel. You should take advantage of planar environments that may make it hard to see where
you are going, such as veins of lead in the elemental plane of Earth, or planar powers and rulers who may
have restrictions within their realms and the surrounding area, such as Asmodeus in Nessus. Some planes by
their nature are unfriendly to travelers on just about every layer such as the Prison Plane of Carceri. After an
adventure or two, the players should be planning ahead. If they‘re not, you‘re either spoiling your players or
they‘re particularly dense.

Setting up Kip
Campaigns with a home base in one location tend to do very well. A home base provides a safe(r) location for
players to return to, and having a home provides an easy way to make them to care about local politics. On
the other hand, staying in one place can get boring. Each group has a balance point that they find works best,
and you should make an effort to find out where that point is.
Attempts to set up kip should be viewed as a great opportunity to add another layer of complexity to your plot.
Creative DMs will find excellent adventure seeds and the players will have an objective to work towards.
In Sigil, a residence or business would fit in well and be very successful in the vacuum of power left in the
wake of the faction banishment. Land in Sigil is limited and very expensive, so it is unlikely that the party will
receive a deed to any land just for the asking, it takes political favors or serendipity to get your own kip rent-
free. Attempts to build obvious strongholds in Sigil may gain the attention of the Lady of Pain, or at the very
least make the party the center of a political frenzy as the new local “warlords”.
Outside of Sigil, it is important to remember that the planes are often populated in ideal locations. The
characters will have to deal with their neighbors, or displaced populace if they try to claim land already taken.
Some gate-towns may have troublesome local leaders or residents, and a party must be careful not to shift
the gate-town alignment or they may find their safe house in another (not nearly so friendly) plane. And of
course some planes may be more trouble than their worth. The baatezu would not take kindly to some
necromancer setting up kip on Avernus or Dis without perimission and permits.

Law or Order
Calling the alignment “lawful” is a misnomer in many ways. It may be better to
call it “orderly”, as for many players lawful carries linguistic baggage from its
association with legality. An orderly character is the sort of person who has a
daily planner and uses it daily. They keep their receipts, and balance the
party‘s books. They have routines that they follow and appreciate the value of
traditions and time-tested solutions. All of these personal traits are entirely
independent of their stance on legal structures.

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Orderly characters generally have few qualms with obeying the restrictions of the society in which they grow
up and may be extremely judgmental of other societies that don't match the one they are used to. Still, they
won't rebel against society on principle because they see nothing wrong with a controlling system. They don't
mind being another brick in the wall; as far as that are concerned they only make the wall stronger.
However, if they find problems in a society for other reasons, such as moral principles or selfish desires, then
they can be a royal terror in attempting to correct that flaw. They may take steps within the order of their
society first, but if nothing comes of it, orderly character can, and will, commit acts of rebellion and sedition in
the name of a greater or better system they may hold stronger loyalty to.
A DM with a lawful character who seems to be acting outside of the alignment stereotype should check with
the player as they may find that the character‘s silent motivations are inherently lawful. After all, an orderly
character need not hold the law in his mind like some precious icon to be burnished, polished, kissed, and
obeyed blindly. The written law is an expression of order, not the cause or final conclusion of it.

Chaos or Anarchy
Chaotic characters. It can be tempting to play a chaotic character as insane or utterly random by flipping a
coin each time a decision comes up. Unfortunately, you‘d be missing the point entirely. Like strongly lawful
characters, this alignment is vulnerable to misinterpretations.
Chaotic characters are at their heart unpredictable and individualistic. They may have trouble organizing their
life and may flit from task to task or be an absolutely incapable project manager. Chaotic characters have little
semblance of organization in their lives, or if they do – change it nearly daily to reflect changes in how they
interact with the world around them. In any given situation they may be the first to think of a brand new
solution to a problem, shaking up the traditional answer with a better (or worse) one. They tend to chafe
against restrictions on what they wish to do, and oftentimes will champion their (or others) rights to do what
they want when they want regardless of social or legal restrictions.
This is not to say they won‘t occasionally agree with tradition or law. Chaotic characters don‘t necessarily
break rules just for the sake of the rule being there. After all, any rule should be questioned, but questioning
authority does not necessitate overthrowing authority. Sometimes the authority is being perfectly sensible! And
chaotic characters if nothing else have a healthy sense of survival.
Usually a DM will not have trouble with a chaotic character acting too lawful, though when they do a quick
check with the player may quickly answer any questions regarding their motivations. If the player himself is
not very chaotic is may be easy to forget to champion individualism and innovation.
More often the problem with a strongly chaotic character comes from overplaying the alignment. A player may
endanger his character, his party, switch sides mid-plot, or simply spend so much time dominating the game
role-playing his chaotic alignment that hours are wasted at the table trying to deal with one player instead of
the party as a whole. Some players seem to take the alignment as an excuse to kill off other members of the
party or to role-play insanity as disruptively as humanly possible. Keep a close eye on players who seem to be
going too far with their character – oftentimes there are out of game reasons for the disruption and in the end
you may have to do what is healthiest for your game.

Roleplaying Extreme Alignments

When role-playing NPCS with extreme alignments(LG, CE, CG, LE), make sure to express both qualities, not
just one. It's not enough that the lawful evil villain enjoy being evil and wicked and depraved, he must also
have an honor system that he believes in and be fairly sensible in his plans and dealings. His actions might
even seem reasonable from a character‘s perspective. A lawful evil character can make a useful ally as easily
he does an enemy.
The same goes for lawful good. No matter how good your proposal is, if it involves not going through the right
channels, or relies on improvisation, a paladin will not like it. Orderly planning is as important as anything else
to a shining paragon of lawful good—and such people can be just as harsh as lawful evil individuals in some
respects.
In fact, on the planes individuals that are opposed along one alignment axis are often allies against those they
oppose on the other.

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Unusual Bedfellows, Unlikely Enemies
Understanding the motivations of the denizens of the planes can make for a richer campaign. With so many
opposing philosophies and domains, adversaries and allies can and should come from unexpected places.
Good and evil are aspects of a character, but your players should remember it‘s all relative.
Explore prejudices and assumptions with your NPCs. Both traditionally “good” and “evil” races can work as
friend or foe. Allow ambivalent characters, such as A‘kin the Friendly Fiend, to become main NPCs in your
game. Just because an NPC is a baatezu does not mean the characters should go out and attack it, and there
is a strong chance of them ending up in the
dead-book if they try.
Paladins on the planes tend to learn quickly
that the greater good can sometimes better be
served over the course of their lifetime than in
one quick fight. When DMing for paladins and
other characters that risk losing their powers
for their actions, you should keep the
motivations of your players in mind. It is
possible that your player is taking a long view
of the situation, and that is something to
reward, not punish.

Playing Exemplar
These creatures are the physical embodiment
of both their plane and their alignment. Some
of them were once the souls of mortals, others
were simply born as they are. Either way, they
are not mortal and most have lived for
millennia in cultures so absolute as to be
completely impractical for mortal limitations.
As such, most of their concerns and ideals are
as alien to us as ours are to them.

All exemplars, particularly the good and evil

kind, have something of an ulterior motive
when dealing with mortals. They deal in souls.
If the soul of the mortal they are dealing with
is already committed one way or the other,
then that will greatly influence how they interact with that mortal. Some may consciously try to lure the soul
before to their path, others may ignore the fellow before him as irrelevant, useless or even attack for the
offense of existing. Fiends are not all mindless monsters, and not all celestials are paladins. Nothing could be
further from the truth.
The following advice on playing the alignments is meant as a guide. Circumstances in your own game may
call for different behavior.
The baatezu are the exemplars of lawful evil. Imagine every self-serving evil lawyer stereotype rolled into one
idealized lawyer. The baatezu care only for their own goals and ends and will use the letter of a bargain to
make sure they come out ahead. The words in any deal are most important, not the intent. Peeling a baatezu
without an escape clause is tantamount to asking for a lifetime of pain, as simply killing you in retribution
would end your suffering prematurely.
The yugoloths are the exemplars of neutral evil. If the baatezu are the ultimate lawyers, the yugoloths are the
ultimate confidence men. ―Slippery as a greased basilisk and twice as deadly. ‖ Yes, they will peel you. Yes,
they will usually honor the word of their bargains. No, they do not play fair. They will come to an individual
again and again, slowly corrupting them with each new task, each new promise, and every reward. By the
time the victim realizes they‘ve sold their themselves out, the chains have been welded shut. The yugoloths
play all sides against each other as a feint for their true purposes.

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The tanar'ri are the exemplars of chaotic evil. They are violence for the sake of violence. They are filled with a
malevolent hatred, which in the higher caste of tanar'ri may be suppressed for a time to deal with other
creatures. That violence always lingers just under the surface however, a low simmer that is just waiting to
become a rolling boil. Not all tanar‘ri can even be assumed to be sane or sober when they interact with a
mortal. There are many theories that the entire species exists within a trancelike nightmare state, with the
weaker tanar‘ri only half-aware of their surroundings. These beings are untrustworthy in the extreme.
The archons are the exemplars of lawful good. The law is the law and good is good, and the two are nearly
interchangeable concepts. What is good for one is good for all. ―Littering harms the environment and
destroys the sanctity of our heavens. For this crime you must do a year of penance and prayer. ‖ Do not ask
what a second offense will net. Individuals are viewed within the context of society and an orderly good
natured society will create and nurture good in its members, starting with the youngest. They will use mortals
as a measuring stick to gauge a civilization and determine how and what needs changing to be brought to
their cause.

The guardinals are the exemplars of neutral good. They are good for goodness‘ sake, believing such will
benefit everyone in the end, and will take any means necessary to pursue
the greater good. They will make deals and break them, if the end result is
justified, though they try to avoid such situations, realizing that undermining
the value of trust hinders the greater good. They do not tolerate those who
would blur the line between good and evil. They are known for self-sacrifice,
surrendering the majority of one of their layers of Elysium to contain many
greater evils in the name of protecting the planes. They are the celestial
least likely to try to drag a mortal to their way of thinking, and there are a
sizable percentage of them that truly believe in the value of a mortal‘s
freewill. The guardinal is likely to sacrifice himself for another even if the
other is not worthy of it because it is the right and good thing to do. They
only hope that the sacrifice will be a greater good in the end.

The eladrin are the exemplars of chaotic good. They are freewheeling,
freedom-minded souls. They consider the rights of the individual more important than the wishes of society,
and the plights of individuals are their primary concern in dealing with mortals. Changing the world, one
person at a time is the best way to achieve this goal. And they believe that a society which forces everyone
within it be good cannot by definition itself be good. They believe that any one person should have the choice
in their actions, and be punished if they choose evil. They are more than happy to let the bad consequences
of one‘s poor decisions serve as a life lesson, for eladrin prefer to lead by example rather than actively
interfere in the lives of others. They detest the very concept of slavery and similar institutions of bondage, and
will take to acts of vigilantism to correct a wrong.

The slaadi are “ purple . Bubbly. Good WITH children. Extra crispy.” At least if you ask one those are the
answers you may get. Slaadi are the exemplars of chaos. They are entirely unpredictable and care little for
the well being of others around them. At the same time of course, they don‘t go out of their way to hurt them
either. Really, any particular slaadi may have whatever agenda it has in mind at the moment and where a
character falls in with that is entirely up to its interpretation of the situation. They may respond favorably to
mortals of a chaotic alignment, but they will almost inevitably react poorly to those of lawful – unless they
choose at the moment to champion the rights of the oppressed individual in a spirited debate.
The modrons are the exemplars of law. They don't forget, and they don't forgive. A modron is a tool, an
extension of the overall mind which is the modron hierarchy. A modron only recognizes its immediate superior
and immediate subordinate. A character is never likely to interact with anything less than a nonaton, octon,
septon, and the greater modrons – lower castes do not have the intellect and language to communicate with
the characters. They are uncaring and rational with little interest in the desires or wellbeing of any being that
does not serve the ultimate order. When dealing with lawful mortals they expect the being before them to obey
blindly, as if part of the hierarchy. When dealing with neutral or chaotic beings they ignore them unless they
get in the way or provoke the modron with display of chaos. A modron will deny the possibility of any random
element or serendipity in the multiverse, taking time to correct such misconceptions at any encounter. Never
wish a modron “Good luck” on any task.

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The rilmani are the exemplars of the balance. They are neutral in every regard, and determinedly hold the
center of neutrality in balance. A rilmani takes to his task, which others may call “meddling”, as a duty to
prevent the redefinition of “good and evil” or “law and chaos‘” in such a way that the center slides away from
its proper place in the middle. This drives the rilmani society, leaving the majority of them quietly reclusive and
those not reclusive acting to preserve balance. Their small numbers lend towards the need for stealth, so few
will ever see a rilmani – or know that their close comrade and advisor is a rilmani. When dealing with mortals,
a rilmani treats them as they would any other being in the 'verse – concerned only when the greater balance
is at stake, and otherwise leaving well enough alone.
The elementals are the very essence of matter. Their forms are substance in its purest form, and in dealing
with a mortal there is little to no common ground. An elemental
has no comprehension of the emotional complexities of a being
made of mixes of matter and energy. And likewise a mortal has
little understanding of a being which has little comprehension of
matters of morality and ethics, and even less of organic
requirements. There are those elementals of more advanced
power and intellect that do but these are not the standard. An
elemental cannot be guaranteed to understand the requirements
of the average being for continued life – though they may still
wish to enthusiastically share themselves with their new found
and unlucky friends.

Unfunny Modrons
“Trample them! Crush them under the marching feet!”
̳
Modrons have developed a reputation as funny‘ little dice with legs. Many modrons have been depicted as
comedic relief—every single rogue modron in the official products, for one. The cuddly depictions of DiTerlizzi
as well as the versions seen in Planescape: Torment only added to that. But modrons – regular modrons, not
rogues - are the exemplars of Law, and in your game ought to be some of the most unfunny things around.
This stereotype can be difficult to overcome if you have players that are used to the amusing antics of a
modron outcast.
Some general advice: do not overuse quadrones. This is the type most associated with modron outcasts, and
the most stereotyped one. It is also a lower caste of modron, which won't understand the big picture by
design. If you want seriousness, go with the higher castes that are more intelligent and more capable of
associating with mortals at their own level.
If you want serious, play serious. Don't give them a funny voice and don't overemphasize the hive tendencies
of the lower castes. Think of everything that mortals think is beneficiary about law, and make them represent
it. Think technology and the ability to predict. Think unyielding and strict. Think “borg”, not “wind-up toy”.
Finally, come up with a serious modron NPC and make it an important fixture of your campaign. This has the
added benefit of representing the race, as opposed to any agent of chaos you might introduce. Every time you
converse with a modron, the players should feel that it has the weight of its entire race behind it, much like
every baatezu contract has a fiendish legal system behind it.
Examples from play, The Great Modron March:
The characters split up. One group flew ahead to prepare the town for the procession while the ones
remaining behind tried to stall the marching army of modron bearing down on the town.
-One character stood in the path to force the modrons around him. He was trampled. “March”
-The characters took one monodrone and retreated away from the march. Once a delegation from the
procession gave up pursuit, the characters turned the modron to march into the broadside of the procession.
The monodrone was trampled by the others. “March”
-The characters fired volleys of arrows into the path of the modrons. When this failed to divert them, they fired
on the front ranks. The second volley was answered in kind. “Attack”
-When the characters bargained with the procession for an alternate route, their negotiations were nothing but
cold emotionless logic and reasoning. Despite the chaos going on throughout the procession and the
environment, the decaton remained nothing but rational.

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Fiendish Contracts
Given the politics in Planescape, it should come as no surprise that contracts and agreements will arise in
game and may be pivotal to an entire plot arc or campaign. The fiends in particular have a reputation for
making deals, often with souls at stake in a written or unwritten way. They have their ulterior motives, so even
the contract that mentions nothing of souls may require a task or price so gruesome to guarantee the fiend the
mortal‘s soul in the end. It is after all, quite literally a deal with a devil (or demon, daemon, or other despicable
entity).
If a character is stuck in an unsavory situation because of a fiendish contract, players should not be allowed to
discard the character immediately. The essence of such deals is coming to grips with the consequences
through roleplay, and as DM you need to assert your authority a little and encourage them to play the situation
through. If after a few sessions, it is clear the player is not having fun with the consequences of their deal, do
what is best for the health of your game and have them create a new character.

Baatezu contracts are the most stereotypical example of a fiendish contract. Verbal or written, both will involve
a great deal of convoluted language. Characters with Profession(Lawyer), or Knowledge(Law) may find their
skills extremely useful. Deal making is such a large part of the baatezu ethos that if broken, the baatezu will
almost certainly have some way of enforcing the contract, and consider it an affront to their reputation to be
outplayed or allow a broken contract to go unpunished.
The inverse of the baatezu deal is to make a deal with a tanar'ri. A contract with a being of malicious chaos is
simply unwise, and it is unlikely to find one willing to put pen to paper much less willing to uphold the
agreement afterwards. The best way to hold a tanar‘ri to a deal is to make sure it is in its best interest to follow
through. Characters may use withheld payment, physical force, or mystical bindings but in all cases they
should be aware that the tanar‘ri may turn on them regardless out of spite or insanity. They hold a tiger on a
leash made of spider webs.
At least the tanar‘ri is predictable in its response to a deal. Deals with the yugoloths are even more difficult to
predict because they combine the legality of the baatezu with the fickle whimsy of the tanar‘ri all wrapped up
in ultimate self-interested pragmatism. A yugoloth will hold to a contract, for as long as he stays bought and
the politics remain in favor. Those of the arcanaloth caste in particular, will enforce a formal agreement in
mystically binding contract. A clever player will ensure that the contract‘s consequences apply equally to the
yugoloth at the very least before they agree to anything at all.

Conflicting Cosmologies
You may notice the characters in your game are from
different primes which all have their own unique view of
the afterlife and the planes. Some certainly won‘t agree
with others, and on some worlds it almost seems like
every five to ten years they arbitrarily change what they
believe about where their gods make kip. In those cases it
may help you, or your players to have a reason behind
these differences.
The standard solution is to dismiss the Prime
interpretation of the planes as nothing more than clueless
bunk. After all, the smaller worlds may not even have a
single wizard able to cast planeshift, much less any active
form of planar travel. Some players may find this attitude
dismissive though, so keep that in mind.
Another solution lies in the use of the plane of Shadow.
Review the section on the Shadowlie in Chapter 8 as this
psuedoplane may be useful to explain the self-delusion of
many Prime worlds. The contrast of what is truth and what
is lie may become a theme of your game, as even the
planar view of the planes becomes a group-shared
consensual reality.

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 Faction War

The Planescape adventure Faction War, quite

rightly, shakes up the entire setting. This section
is directed towards those that have played
Planescape before this game-altering bombshell
was released, and who probably have some
strong opinions on the matter.
As one of the last big modules of the
Planescape line, Faction War is often the end of
many a campaign. But given its conclusion, or
lack thereof, it often leaves on a sour note for
players. However, not all change is bad, and if
played right, Faction War results in a Sigil that is
forever changed, and a multiverse much
different from the faction-dominated setting that
we have come to know. It is also the state from
which Planewalker has chosen to pick up with
the Planescape setting, so our future releases
will assume the completion of the events in
Faction War.
So why is it so good?
First of all, it isn't. It's completely flawed, due to
the fact that it was supposed to be quite a bit
longer and because the events that take place in
the adventure are somewhat out of sync with
what we thought they would be. Many
organizations and individuals are acting quite out
of character and this causes trouble for many
older players of the setting. When it coems down
to it, this module should be treated just like any
other: isolate the things that you like about it, and remove the elements that you don‘t.
The basic idea in the Faction War isn't alien to the setting—it fits perfectly, and it is brilliant. In fact, all the
faction plotlines that have been put forth up to this point have been building up to the big conflict! Even the
theme is working for us; the Unity of Rings dictates that there should be a second Great Upheaval, only this
time it is less of a free-for-all, and much more political.
The point is the setting was better for it afterwards. The Factions are gone from Sigil, and they have been
forced out of the government of the Cage, and onto the planes. The stereotyped and pat solutions to all
answers have been removed from the equation, and it was high time that they were.
See, the factions are great. They are wonderfully inventive and there are thousands of plotlines and hooks
you can use about them that make the setting really take off. The sheer amount of new ideas you are
introducing into your campaign when you first start using them is staggering. But if you never renew them, if
you never let the plotline move to its natural conclusion, then you are stifling the setting.
Yes, stifling it!
The factions suffocate the creative potential of moving forward with the philosophical situation of the planes
and the continuing growth of your players and player characters. If you keep using the factions after
exhausting certain plotlines, and you keep moving back to the status quo, you have stopped using them as a
springboard, and have started using them as a crutch.
One of the best parts about a role-playing game is that it is not a situation comedy. The events that take place
do not happen in a vacuum, and everyone is not returned to the same old routine once the episode is over.
The developers of Planescape were already there when they started thinking of Faction War, and who knows
where they might have gone or what direction they might have moved into if the setting had gotten more
development.

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New elements can now move into Sigil and stake their claim: guilds, sects, and everyone that was being held
back by the presence of the factions. Prime organizations could even start moving in! Upper and Lower
planars need to replace their representatives, or try to take advantage of the situation.
Now, having said that, you probably don‘t want to move onto the Faction War until you have really exhausted
the potential of having factions as government in Sigil. But if you do start your game post Faction War, even
then, the factions aren't gone! You can, and should, still use them!
The Factions can't just go away. That wouldn't make sense, and it would be an utter waste. What's happened
is that they are no longer in charge of Sigil. You can reinstate them, but that would be wasting the opportunity
that the module is presenting. It is much more interesting to let them try to influence events through other
means, and have them seek new venues of control, particularly throughout their planes of influence and the
primes. The people in the factions don't just disappear, and Sigil doesn't just halt. You have to spend some
thought on how things work from now on.
If you let things progress as seems natural to you then everything opens up. New plotlines evolve from the old
ones, with the same characters, personalities, and ideas that you have come to love. Even factions that have
been seemingly beheaded, like the Doomguard and the Fated, now have extended plot options that could
really shake up a campaign. Remember the oath that the Doomguard swore when they became a faction? It
isn't holding them back any longer. The Fated are now operating like they should have been, without
Darkwood at their helm, and are being truly the standard-bearers of individualism for the first time in a long
while.
Intrigue is higher than ever because of this, since you have all these individuals overtly or covertly serving the
factions in Sigil (and elsewhere), but now no longer having the easy way of authority in every situation. Sigil is
now a real city of opportunity for every power group around the planes, and the factions are still there, trying
to stake their claim and influence in it, only they can‘t do it officially.
The authors clearly had more in mind, so it is up to you to fill in the blanks and write the next chapters in the
great book that is the City of Doors for your own campaign.

Module Reviews
New DMs may have an interest in seeing what came before, so we‘ve sat down with our top DMs to give you
a quick overview of all of the adventures in the Planescape line and some advice for you should you need it
when you sit down to run them. We‘ve included product numbers for you as well to make it easier for you to
track some of these down for yourself.

The Planescape Campaign Box

#2600 – Two short adventure hooks,
unfortunately these hooks are a little bland
and should be expanded upon by the GM
when run. They don‘t do as good a job
establishing the setting or mood of
Planescape as you would hope, but they
were very early in the product line. These
make good starting points really.
1. For the Price of a Rose (4 PCs, Levels 1-
3):The PCs are recruited to solve the
mystery behind the midnight vandalism of
the Lady Kindernis‘s castle gardens.
2. Misplaced Spirit (4 PCs, Levels 1-4): A
misplaced spirit from the Celestial
Bureaucracy must be returned from Sigil to
where she belongs, like it or not.
3.

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Well Of Worlds
#2604 - 9 adventures, one poster map. This module is divided into chapters, one adventure per chapter. This is a
good starting book for your campaign, covering a wide range of low and mid level adventures that may be
interspersed with your own works or adventures from other sources. The adventures are quick to read, provide
easy hooks and do not heavily modify the setting making them ideal for a quick one-shot game or an interlude
between larger plot arcs. They are also short and provide enough relevant material for a DM new to the setting to
easily work within.
1. To Baator and Back (4-6 PCs, All levels): This adventure sends the PCs through a random portal and into
Avernus, the first layer of Baator. There they have to deal with the harsh environment, avoid inhabitants, and broker
with the Pillar of Skulls for the way out.
2. The Mazes (1-6 PCs, Levels 2-4): This adventure gets PCs to delve into the past history of the factions while
attempting to find one of the exiled Factols of an old and defunct faction. They must find the entrance to one of the
Lady's mazes, recover an item from within the maze, and find their way out.
3. Love Letter (1-6 PCs, All levels): When a Tanar'ri loves a Baatezu... No, really, I am serious! Guess who has to
play messenger, though? The only problem with 'Love Letter' is that it really does not convey the whole enmity of
these fiendish races very well. Partly due to the unique nature of the adventure, but it may leave the players with
the wrong impression in the end. It is best played sometime after Well of Worlds: Blood Storm so that the players
understand the uniqueness of this situation.
4. Blood Storm (3-8 PCs, Levels 9 and up): The PCs are press ganged into the Blood War. This may make a good
introduction to Well of Worlds: Love Letter.
5. Hard Time (1-6 PCs, Levels 5-8): The PCs are recruited to swap two misplaced petitioners. One that belongs on
the Dwarven Mountain. The other is in Carceri, near the exiled Titans. A good adventure except for one bit, the Titan
(Crius - Gravity) is very, very, indifferent. While this is fortunate for the PCs, it really kills the mood of being a
prisoner. It is best to correct that oversight when you run this adventure.
6. Epona’s Daughter (1-4 PCs, Levels 9-11): An Epona is kidnapped and the PCs must rescue her from the prime
berk who just fancies the 'faerie horse'.
7. Recruiters (2-6 PCs, Levels 5-8): The PCs must prevent Plague-Mort, on the Outlands, from sliding into the
Abyss while they are present (or helping it go if they like)
8. The Hunt (2-6 PCs, Levels 1-7): The PCs
become prey on the Beastlands. It is highly
recommended that this be played before
running the module Something Wild.
9. People Under the Falls (4-6PCs, Levels 9
and up): The PCs are caught in an
underground/waterfall complex near a new
portal Slaadi are about to use to invade the
upper planes. Level 9 is listed as a minimum
for this adventure, but given the
circumstances and potential for clever use of
the environment by the DM it may be too
difficult for level 9 characters. If you have any
doubts regarding the ability of your PCs,
save this for level 11 or higher.

Tales from the Infinite Staircase

#2632 – This is a collection of either
adventures, each of which is designed to be
played individually or at a single setting in
nearly any order. This release is for expert
GMs since each chapter is altered by the
one before, so take caution in playing
through it as you may have to make
adjustments.

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The Eternal Boundary
(4-6 PCs, Levels 1-5): #2601 PSM1 – Set in Sigil, the Hive, with a brief jaunt to the Elemental Plane of Fire. This
adventure deals with the Dustment and the mortuary. The story is a little weak but, on the plus side it maps the
mortuary.

Planes of Chaos
#2603 – This box set contains a collection of adventures focusing on strong plots, and highlighting the wide range
of play levels available on the planes. In a way this particular release is more about designing the plot hook than
about the adventure itself. Therefore these adventures will require the DM to fill in necessary information on NPC
stats and other level appropriate components. The adventures are loosely grouped by planar location, but are not
otherwise related to each other.
1. Arsenic (1 or more PCs, Levels 1-3): The owner of an Abyssal inn is dealing with an infestation of cranium rats,
and finds them more creative than expected, turning his own weapons against him.
2. Wicked, Wicked Ways (3-6 PCs, Levels 4-7): A githzerai with an amulet and a plan asks for help in destroying an
evil artifact on the Abyss – but that‘s not the whole story, and the PCs find themselves in a pickle.
3. The Book of Lies (2 or more PCs, Levels 8+): The PCs find themselves in position to obtain a book containing
every lie ever told, including their own.
4. Nuts (1 or more PCs, Levels 1-3): The PCs are caught as the willing or unwilling arbitrators between a territorial
dispute of bariaur and ratatosk.
5. Party Reservation (3 or more PCs, Levels 4-7): Caught up in the midst of a band of bacchae, the party must slip
loose or bring their path of destruction with them wherever they go.
6. Treasure for the Taking (4-6 PCs, Levels 8+): After accidentally freeing a titan while treasure hunting on Arborea,
the party must find a way to deal with the now freed titan.
7. Street Crew (1-6 PCs, Levels 1-3): A town in Limbo is destabilized by a hidden force, and the PCs are blamed for
the mess.
8. Deliverance (3-6 PCs, Levels 4-7): In search of a grey slaadi, the party must slog through Limbo‘s soup to deliver
a message.
9. Steal Town (4-6 PCs, Levels 8+): Disruptions on the Astral prompt the PCs to visit the Floating City of the
githzerai.
10. A Mouse-eye View (1-6 PCs, Levels 1-3): Taking refuge in Loki‘s drinking hall turns out to run the risk of staying
there indefinitely or worse.
11. Hoards of Trouble (3-6 PCs, Levels 4-7): The discovery of multiple dragon hoards in the caverns of
Pandemonium lead to a gold rush.
12. Mad Dog (4-6 PCs, Levels 8+): A series of gruesome murders in the Madhouse lead to the PCs being called in
to help find and stop the killer.
13. Snipe Hunt (4-6 PCs, Levels 1-3): Sent by the Guvners to retrieve three yule logs from Ysgard, the task turns
out to be trickier than thought.
14. The Hammer and the Serpent (2-5 PCs, Levels 4-7): Minions of Set in search of “kiss and make up” presents
for their god‘s estranged wife, make a run through Asgard casing the joint and eventually stealing from the Norse
powers – leaving their PC guides holding the bag.
15. The Fires of Ysgard (1-4 PCs, Levels 8+): A mad valkyrie, on a mission to trigger the beginnings of Ragnarok,
must be stopped.

Into the Abyss

(4-6 PCs, Levels 8-10): #2605 PSM2 – The PCs are recruited to discover the whereabouts of a ship of chaos in the
Abyss. The name says it all really. A little bland but lots of combat.

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The Deva Spark
(4-6 PCs, Levels 5-9): #2606 PSM3 – Even deva‘s make mistakes, and this one was a doozy. He placed his spark
(some berks would call it a soul) in the unwitting “care” of a distinctly not nice fellow. Now the “spark” has travelled
to the Abyss, and before long made its way to the belly of a bebilith. With that the PCs are begged to help the poor
deva out to get his spark back, only to find that the good has worn off on the bebilith as well – and it won‘t be easy
to part the two.

Planes of Law
#2607 – The Planes of Law boxset contains small adventure hooks for each plane (3 each). They are not strongly
developed, and serve more as a basis for further expansion into a game.

Fires of Dis
(4-6 PCs, Levels 5-9): #2608 PSM4 – Set in Baator and the Outlands, the PCs retrieve a holy sword from Dis only
to find it came with hidden strings attached. The fate of the city of Fortitude is in the balance as the sword returns to
the city.

Harbringer House
(4-6 PCs, Levels 4-7): #2614 PSM5 – Set in Sigil, Lower Ward, Ecstasy and Curst. This is a phenomenal adventure
with several alternate endings based on the PCs actions in the final showdown. It is recommended for experienced
GMs and players. This is an adventure no campaign is complete without and is well suited as a campaign climax.

Planes of Conflict
#2615 – This is a collection of adventures meant to explore various aspects of the planes of conflict. They are not
connected to each other and may be played in any order.
1. Into the Land of the Dead (3-6 PCs, Levels 1-4): PCs are to rescue a hero from Hades.
2. Militancy Justifies the Means (4-6 PCs, Levels 5-8): A fanatic threatens Bytopia. This module really deals with the
sects of Planescape, specifically the Order of the Planes Militant. Thus, Planes of Law, wherein they are featured,
would be a handy DM tool.
3. Prison Break (1-6 PCs, Levels 5-9): The PCs must rescue a prisoner from the Mercykiller's Hidden Vault on
Carceri. It is recommended that this be used as a prelude or a follow-up to Something Wild. The PCs may need to
get a credible witness to attest and support their claims for the Mercykillers misdeeds done in Something Wild, and
this provides a perfect opportunity.
4. Beyond the Forbidden Plateau (4-6 PCs, Levels 9-12): Baatezu are kidnapping creatures and press ganging
them into the Blood War. Any DM running this should be up on the Dinosaur lore (since that is what the fiends are
capturing). Since animal abduction is part of the synopsis of Something Wild, DMs may want to consider running
only one or the other in their campaigns, otherwise the PCs might get the idea that the Beastlands is just a really
popular poaching spot and all of the animals are helpless. This adventure, with a little modification, could be run as
part of the Hellbound series as well.

Hellbound, The Blood War

#2621 PSM6 - Three adventures in total. It is also a nice campaign ender as it changes the River Styx, robs fiends
of the ability to planeshift/gate, and changes the Blood War forever. Lots of lower planar travel, GMs should be
aware of the nature of the Blood War, it‘s respective sides and the nature of the conflict.
1. The Field of Nettles (4-6 PCs, Levels 4-6): GM‘s running this adventure should be experts with the Grey Waste
and the PCs playing should really like combat as there is a lot of it.
2. Strange Bedfellows (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-9): This is a nice follow up to Hellbound: Field of Nettles. This adventure
deals with the politics of the Blood War, includes a little combat and some travel to the Upper Planes.
3. Squaring the Circle (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-10): This adventure wraps up the events set in motion by the earlier two,
culminating in a plummet towards the Styx from a high altitude on the back of a well-kept yugoloth secret.

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Doors to the Unknown
#2626 PSM7 – Like Well of Worlds this module is broken into a set of four adventures, but they are best run as a
coherent whole and not broken up across other adventures. Everything a DM needs to know about the locations
and factions in this module is contained within. This would probably serve as useful book for novice GMs to cut a
campaign from. The basic premise follows the pattern of a set of portals that appear and disappear over the course
of 500 years, and the dangers they contain – locked away in centuries past.

Something Wild
#2619 PSM8 – Set in Curst and the Beastlands. The story is very disjointed and the clues may be too subtle for
some plot points the PCs are encouraged to pursue. Previous exposure to Well of Worlds: The Hunt may help a
little in regards to the nature of the Beastlands but it still will not help the PCs on the plot points for the Mercykillers
or the Malar worshipers on Carceri. It‘s just too vague on letting the PCs know what to do. If you run this one, keep
that in mind, and consider preceding this or following it up with Planes of Conflict: Prison Break.

The Great Modron March

#2628 PSM9 – This is a series of short basic adventures that may be interlaced with existing campaigns. You will
need to run this before running Dead Gods as it is a precursor for that module. It is suggested that if your players
find modrons funny - run this module and they will learn quickly that rogue modrons are anything but the norm for
the species. This book also details the modrons nicely and GMs wanting to know more about how to play them, and
details on their species should definitely pick this up. There are a total of eleven chapters and it does not detail the
whole march, allowing GMs to make up adventures to insert into the gaps, or to use the adventures from this
module to fill gaps in their own campaign. Overall, an excellent module.
1. The March Begins (4-6 PCs, Levels 1-3): Starting in Sigil and quickly moving to Automata, the PCs are hired to
bring a book to Automata, while there they witness the beginning of the March.
2. The Unswerving Path (4-6 PCs, Levels 2-4): Heart‘s Faith lies dead in the path of the modrons, and under that
many feet – very dead indeed without the intervention of the archon hired PCs.
3. Ambushed! (4-6 PCs, Levels 3-5): The march comes under attack from evil knights wanting to use the modrons
for torturous experiments.
4. Politics of the Beasts (4-6 PCs, Levels 4-6): PCs asking favors of a nymph are asked to cleanse her pool of the
pollution caused by the modrons upstream.
5. Modron Madness (4-6 PCs, Levels 4-6): Another villain using modrons for parts is discovered, and threaten the
PCs with his actions.
6. Law in Chaos (4-6 PCs, Levels 5-8): Limbo natives hire the PCs to “assist” the Modron March through Limbo –
mostly to get them the heck out of the plane as soon as humanely/modronly possible.
7. The Modron Judge (4-6 PCs, Levels 5-8): A trapped modron begs for help in rejoining his comrades.
8. Camp Followers (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-9): Summoned by a wizards, following the March – the party is forced to
serve the wizards as her guardians – through the Abyss.
9. Sidetracked (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-9): As the March takes a long-forgotten portal on their path, the PCs are hired to
find out where it goes.
10. The Flower Infernal (4-6 PCs, Levels 7-9): The PCs discover the nefarious plots of the Tacharim, and must put a
stop to things.
11. The Last Leg (4-6 PCs, Levels 5-9): The PCs are hired to find an artifact that doesn‘t exist, instead discovering a
rogue modron with very important information.

Dead Gods
#2631 PSM10 – (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-9): Composed of two adventures that are meant to be played in order, though
they don‘t have to be directly back to back. This adventure resolves the situations addressed in the Great Modron
March. While it is not required that this module be played after the Great Modron March, it makes most sense there.
The smaller of the adventures in this module is intended to be played as interludes between the larger, and both
deal with themes of death and renewal on a deific level.

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Faction War
#2629 PSM11 – (4-6 PCs, Levels 5-9): The culmination of many of the plots highlighted in previous releases, this
treats the final showdown of the Fated and the Sensates and changed the political face of Sigil forever. This module
may be best saved as a campaign ender, or used to transition to 3.0 and Planewalker releases. Don‘t run this one
until you are ready to address Sigil in a post-faction setting.

Die, Vecna, Die

(4-6 PCs, Levels 10-13): A definite campaign ender, this module focuses on the attempted invasion and bid for
godhood of the great wizard Vecna as he escapes from Ravenloft. This module may require a large amount of
modification for any DM inclined to remain true to the mythologies of either the Planescape or Ravenloft setting – so
consider yourself warned.

TSR Jam 1999 The Manxome Foe

# TSR11445 - (4-6 PCs, Levels 8-12): A Deva is trying to redeem a Tanar'ri by forcing it to end the curse of a forest
on Dothion, Bytopia. Ending the curse involves having the Tanar'ri kill a Jabberwocky with a Vorpal Sword. The PCs
are to make sure the Tanar'ri behaves and completes the quest. Fans of Alice in Wonderland should definitely run
this one.

The Vortex of Madness and other Planar Perils

# TSR11326 - An anthology of five short adventures for “high level heroes”. Unfortunately the adventures in this
anthology are incomplete and there are no notes regarding what ―high level heroes ‖ means in terms of levels or
number of players. This is best used as a resource for GMs who need some hooks and rough planar location data
with the time, effort, and energy to develop them into full tilt modules. It has wonderful tables detailing planar effects
on magic, travel, etc.

Dungeon Magazine Adventures

1. Umbra (4-6 PCs, Levels 6-9):
Dungeon # 55, pages 18-47, page
70. Art by DiTerlizzi.
2. Nemesis (4-7 PCs, Levels 9-12):
Dungeon #60, pages 32 – 58. This
adventure features a cameo by Rule-
of-Three and cut-out rhebus puzzles
for Dabus speak. It is a decent
adventure, except for that trip into the
Abyss the Dabus send the PCs on.
3. Diplomacy (4-6 PCs, Levels 13-
20): Dungeon #144, pgs 68 – 85.
While not officially listed as
Planescape, it might as well be and
everyone knows it.

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 Parting Words

Planescape is about thinking outside the box; sometimes it is about recreating the box. Just as new DMs are
often given the advice never to tell the players that anything is impossible, it is important for them to
remember in this setting, nothing is. A Planescape DM must be prepared to work ideas and philosophies like
clay; you can build entire campaigns around an intellectual concept. Don't be afraid to experiment, don't be
afraid to break the rules—the planes do it all the time.
Don't back peddle on your mistakes and don't let players walk over you. Feel free to break their confidence,
but don't ever let them break yours. Do what is healthy for your game, and so long as you keep a straight
face, they‘ll never know the difference. The rules are different out here - you're flying without a net. Be ready
to think on your feet and approach every twist and turn they throw at you as if that was precisely what you
wanted them to do. Most of all, be confident in yourself – you‘re a Planescape DM.

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