The Clerk's Ward

Source: In the Cage: A guide to Sigl p.60

A Meticulous Accounting of all that Transpires within the Ward's Volumes - and all that is left out of its Records.

If a body was to pick just one word to describe the ethos of the Clerk's Ward, it’d be order. Order manifests itself not only in the attitude of the citizens - for example, custom dictates most workers acknowledge their superiors with a bow - but in the appearance of the ward itself. Streets of the Administrator’s District're swept every day. Statues of dignitaries're scrubbed with soap and dried with sponges. Sewers’re kept razorvine-free.

Order, of course, is also a consequence of law. And nowhere in Sigil're laws more rigidly enforced - except at Harmonium headquarters. Harmonium patrols make as many as a hundred arrests per night, mostly for unruliness, loitering, and conspiracy. Private guards have the authority to detain and physically reprimand those suspected of threatening the ward’s elite.

The Clerk’s Ward takes pride in its progressive policies regarding capital punishment (in most cases, an execution's got to be preceded by a fair trial) and free enterprise (merchants may engage in trade without government interference - within reason). While these are strictly speaking a function or the Court in The Lady's Ward, the Clerk's Ward prides itself on having been instrumental in their implementation.

Other proposals, currently under discussion at the Hall of Speakers, include:

• The Architectural Uniformity Act, establishing official color schemes for all structures in the ward.
• The Indigent Relocation Act, collecting funds to purchase wagons for moving impoverished citizens to the Hive Ward, where it's felt they'll be more comfortable.
• The Apparel Regulation Act, establishing dress standards for workers and making violations punishable offenses.

None of these proposals've become law. But debate’ll continue, perhaps for years, perhaps for decades. A thorough discussion’s always preferable to a hasty decision.

Visiting berks, then, shouldn't judge the Clerk's Ward too harshly. They're advised to consider the words attributed to an associate of Duke Rowan Darkwood. Factol of the Fated:
He who wields a sword serves his community with courage. But he who wields a pen serves with elegance.

Getting Around

Cutters should have little trouble navigating the ward, assuming they stay on the main streets. While a body should always keep a peery eye open for thieves and hoodlums, the number of light boys available in this ward makes it tough to mug anyone on Crystal Dew Lane, the ward's principal thoroughfare. Hull Road and Tea Street, while not as well lit as the main drag, bustle with friendly cutters more than willing to steer a body in the right direction.

Folks willing to invest a little jink may wish to hire a tout. The most dependable ones're found on Rook Street; the bariaur touts aren't as likely to be knights of the post as the human ones. Outside the Civic Festhall, sedan chairs're for rent for only a few copper pieces an hour. Factotums'll serve as guides for important faction members, as assigned by their factols; a silver piece or two guarantees attentive service. For a leisurely tour of the ward, a body can rent a pony cab at Tea Street Transit.

By law, Cagers’re free to buy property and build their cases anywhere they like. By tradition, however, cutters of similar background and financial status tend to congregate in the same area. The Administrator’s District, for instance, is home to the ward’s elite. Government officials, affluent professionals, and respected scholars live here, maintaining lavish homes on grand estates. Domestic servants cook meals in woodburning stoves, pump water from private wells, and draw baths in copper tubs.

Craftsmen, clerks, and other commoners gravitate to the Workers' District, a neighborhood of boxy cottages and austere tenements. Furnishings’re sparse, yards nonexistent (just as well, as the residents have neither the time nor jink to take proper care of 'em). Families prepare food over open fires, fetch water from street corner wells, and wash die ms elves from buckets. Instead of the indoor lavatories common in the Administrator's District, outdoor cesspits are the norm.

Many of the ward's tieflings’ve settled in a small strip of land near the Hive Ward border called the Sandstone District, named for the grainy red stone of its streets. The humble living conditions resemble those in the Workers'’' District. (Strange as it may seem, a Few high-minded tieflings embrace poverty as a matter of principle, considering the trappings of luxury decadent and corrupting.) Because the tieflings covet privacy, the Sandstone District remains relatively isolated, making it an ideal refuge for bobbers, bubbers, and knights of die cross-trade.

With the possible exception of the Sandstone District and a few neglected areas in the Workers' District, the Clerk's Ward boasts some of Sigil's cleanest, quietest thoroughfares. With its debris-free white granite pavement, Rook Street, the snaky avenue linking the Hall of Records and the Hall of Speakers, is the ward’s most attractive roadway. The ward’s finest cases stand along the broad Crystal Dew Lane, leading from the Civic Festhall to the Hall of Records. Residents of the Workers' District painted the granite surface of Hull Road in bright greens and blues to cheer up the otherwise gloomy area. In contrast, crumbling slums line Sandstone Row, notable for its dull red cobblestone. Near the Administrator's District, Tea Street's packed with inexpensive taverns, stables, and pawnbrokers. Touts and scribes sell their services along Thistlewind Way. A recent quake (or, the chant is. a wizard's experiment gone awry) left Pride Street with cracks big enough to swallow a sedan chair; until the dabus complete their repairs, this street’s best avoided.

A visitor to the Clerk's Ward seeking some thirst-quenching bub or a comfortable kip has myriad choices. (While weaponsmiths and armorers may be in short supply, the streets're packed with luxury inns and taverns.) the Tear of the Barghest, a tavern favored by moneylenders and landlords, features candlelit tables, curtained booths, and expensive drinks (a glass of Elysium red wine costs 4 sp); the high prices attract bodies interested more in thoughtful conversation than bub. The Iron Heart, with its metal chairs and almond brandy, is popular with the Fated, while the Sullen Moon, replete with abstract sculptures and dogskin rugs, caters to tieflings. Tucked away in a comer of the Administrator's District, the Eyes of Elysium serves nothing but water imported from Thalasia (1 gp per pitcher, tasting faintly of limes). The Black Wind Tavern, tastefully decorated with violet tapestries and enderpine paneling (showing off the fine grain of this smooth, hard, black wood from Krigala), enforces a strict policy of silence; a berk who speaks is shown the door.

A blazing fire in an immense copper dish welcomes guests to Heshter’s Arms, a rambling, friendly inn named after the proprietor, Eman Heshter; because of its central location, the inn's nearly always booked to capacity, and Heshter recommends making reservations at least a month in advance. Travelers on a budget might consider the Slumbering Lamb, an unpretentious boarding house where rooms cost a paltry 5 cp per night (including free bowls of cucumber soup). Bariaur'll appreciate the Velvet Harness; each room includes a grain trough, floor mattress, and sunken bathtub. The Whole Note Inn features singing maids, perfumed sheets, and a menu of exotic dishes guaranteed to please the most demanding gourmet.

The Civic Festhall

Headquarters of the Society of Sensation, the Civic Festhall’s noted throughout the multiverse for its concerts and an exhibitions, as well as its wine shops, taverns, and jewelers, all catering to the most discriminating customers. While tickets for many of the Civic Festhall's concerts're sold only to Sensates, citizens can gather behind the Festhall and listen to the music through the walls (providing they behave in an orderly manner and disperse as soon as the concert ends). On occasion, the administrators open their personal galleries and museums to the public. And because the Sensates encourage artistic expression in all forms, they tolerate, even encourage, informal performances in the streets. Those skilled at juggling, singing, or dancing can make a surprisingly good living collecting the coins tossed by appreciative spectators.

The Greengage

The Greengage, across the street from the Civic Festhall, sells glasses of cider cutters sip while sitting on the curb. This is the establishment of Marda Faramhler (Pr/♀halfling/CG). Marda followed her adventurous husband out to the planes, and after he got himself killed, she decided to stay. Scraping up what little jink she had, she bought this place. Over the years it’s earned a fine reputation, although it's not wildly popular with big folks.

Marda, it seems, refused to bow to common sense and build the place to a proper scale. Or rather, she built it to a perfectly proper scale - for anyone shorter than 4 feet 6 inches. The commons are both spacious and cozy to little people, but the seating is cramped for anyone of small human size or taller. (They're the ones who drink their cider while sitting on the curb.)

A cutter might think this shortcoming would be the end of Mania’s business, but the Greengage is a second home to the members of Sigil's gnome and halfling communities. Marda specializes in cider, both unfermented and hard, from the orchards of the goddess Sheela Peryroyl. The latter cider is such a potent brew that Marda normally allows only two tankards per customer - it’s a sure sign of her trust when a basher gets more than this in a single night. Nobody knows how she manages to get this rare brew, but most guess it’s a repayment for a debt owed to her late husband.

Grundlethum's Automatic Scribe

Tins small shop's the only officially sanctioned one of its kind in all the Cage. Anyone with the jink to cover the fees can pay the Automatic Scribe to write a document of any kind: statements of intent to purchase, promises of payments due, exclamations of passion, whatever a body needs (or wants) set down in writing.

The Automatic Scribe is a contraption of Grundlethum Blackdagger’s (Pl/♂human/W 15/Free League/LN) own creation. It appears to be nothing more than a metal wall, with five small grilles at roughly mouth-level (about 5 feet off the floor) and a horizontal slot below each grille. To the right of each grille is another slot, this one vertical: a body puts jink (coins only!) in this little opening, speaks into the grille, and waits for the written document to appear in the slot below.

The Hall of Information

An adjunct to the Hall of Records, the Hall of Information may be Sigh's most valuable resource. It provides general information about government operations, cultural affairs, and private sector services: Cagers and visitors with routine questions are directed here. Among the services the Hall may be able to provide are:

• Locating a missing relative.
• Giving directions to a Lower Ward inn.
• Recommending a reputable pawnbroker in the Market Ward.
• Mediating a dispute with a merchant.
• Petitioning for government employment.
• Rectifying a mistaken tax assessment.
• Explaining the status of a civil war in Acheron.
• Arranging a meeting with, a wealthy landowner.

Located midway between the Hall of Speakers and the Hall of Records, the Hall of Information’s a stately edifice of blue marble edged in onyx, its sparkling crystal windows framed in turquoise, A pair of marble ramps leading inside runs between three marble columns. The words on each column (one per capital) taken together summarize the Hall's credo: COOPERATION. COMPLIANCE, and CONTROL. (Take care not to lean too hard on the COOPERATION column: it's been weakened by structural flaws and is about ready to collapse. The Bureau of City Services has issued a statement that repair is imminent.)

Inside, a steward'll arrange an appointment with the appropriate official and collect the fee, when applicable. After cutters make an appointment, they may look around a bit, so long as they speak in hushed tones, avoid disturbing any of the officers, keep their hands off the clean walls, and stay away from the chief, Bordon Mok (Pl/♀bariaur/F12/Fated/LN). A force of Mercykiller guards keeps an eye out for troublemakers.

In Bordon's defense, let it be noted that hers is a difficult job. demanding a firm hand and unwavering focus. And she performs her duties well. During her three decades as chief, the Hall of Information's been a model of efficiency.

But as a person - more precisely, as a bariaur - she's foul-tempered and frightening. If she has affection for any living creature, she's kept it to herself. In the rigidity of her beliefs, Bordon isn't so different from other Takers. She contends that society's outcasts are victims of their own laziness, that the strong’re meant to dominate the weak. But Bordon takes the philosophy of the Fated to an extreme. She believes fear breeds loyalty and compassion's a character flaw. She intimidates her Hall officers with vicious insults - she refers to the Portal Registrar as "my little cranium rat." his children as "ratlings" - and lashes 'em with a silver whip if they fail to bow when she walks by. (if Bordon hadn't arranged for the Hall officers to receive handsome salaries, it's unlikely that any'd remain in her employ for more than a few weeks.) She despises the Harmonium, and considers primes an especially repugnant species of vermin. She trusts no one, colleagues included, and is rumored to have evidence of immoral acts conducted by several of Sigil's most respected Cagers, which she intends to use as blackmail.

Make no mistake - Bordon's neither dishonest nor deceptive: She’s consumed by hatred. The reason? It may be a consequence of her appearance. A small pair of ram's horns grow from her head - almost unheard of in female bariaur - making her the target of ridicule since childhood. All efforts to eradicate the horns have failed; they always grow back.

Hall of information: Directory

Touring the Hall

All interior walls and floors're made of polished blue marble, illuminated by aquamarine chandeliers. Every surface is spotless. Footsteps and muttered conversations echo in the otherwise silent hallways. A faint aroma of apples hangs in the air.

In the foyer, a friendly but distant steward (Pl/♂bariaur/F1/Fraternity of Order/LN) sits behind a high desk made of black marble. Giant silver hands rise on either side of the steward's desk, cupping in their palms the pink incense whence comes the apple scent that fills the Hall. To discourage loitering, there're no chairs or benches. Six Mercykiller guards roam the corridors at all times, watching for signs of violence from impatient visitors or dissatisfied clients. The guards won't speak with anyone other than the officers, the steward, and the staff.

Three administrative aides (Pl/human or bariaur/F1/Harmonium or Fraternity of Order/LN or LG) called carriers, identifiable by red shoulder sashes, are always on duty in the Hall. Once per hour, the carriers make the office rounds, picking up messages and notes, then delivering them to other offices, the steward, or the astral streaker room. They also pick up waste bins and dispose of refuse in the incinerator. (A 6-foot-diameter oval mirror hanging on the wall of the incineration room is actually a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire. The word "incinerate" acts as a key to open the portal; all carriers and guards know this key, as does Bordon Mok. The portal is used for the disposal of waste material and sensitive documents.) When they complete their rounds, the carriers return to the lounge.

All the offices are identical. Each contains a black marble desk for the officer, three smaller desks for the staff (an officer has 1-4 staff members on duty at any given time, usually 0- or 1st-level fighters of the same race and faction as the officer), shelves stacked with reference materials, and two chairs for clients.

When an officer's got a message to deliver to another office or another building elsewhere in Sigil, he places it inside a hinged wooden box beside the door. Refuse goes into a waste bin next to the message box. Carriers in the corridor retrieve the messages and refuse by reaching through slots in the wall. A wall panel opens in the corridor, allowing a carrier to remove the waste bin. (See the map for the location of specific offices.)

Bordon Mok's spacious office doubles as her living quarters. The furnishings are similar to those in the other offices - enderpine desk, reference shelves, message box, waste bin - but the room also includes a feather mattress, a clothes cabinet, a ceramic wash basin, and a crystal fish tank (filled with Automata guppies: tiny metal-finned, silver-scaled, goggle-eyed swimmers). In the comer is a barrel of mistberry wine, her favorite drink (fetched by her carriers from Benni's Tap Room in the Hive Ward).

An arched iron tunnel, about 20 feel long, leads to the doorway of a huge iron vault.

The Hall of Records

As the headquarters of the Fated, the Hall of Records provides a number of services to all Cagers and visitors, regardless of their faction affiliation. The Hall, a former college, has been subdivided into a variety of record-keeping and administrative offices. With appropriate administrative approval, anyone may peruse the public document library in the Hall of Records to check tax assessments or examine exchange rates. A body with historical information about the Fated may request an audience with the compilers of The Secret History of Sigil; visitors selected for an interview are compensated with gold (1 gp per interview session), considered for temporary employment with the City Mint, or admitted to an immediate consultation with a Hall administrator (useful for circumventing tax audits or securing government-subsidized housing). Additionally, the public may consult the Announcement Board in the Hall lobby, where ordinances, regulations, and statistical findings are posted on a daily basis. Visitors may also wish to patronize the businesses on the adjacent streets; copyists, tax mediators, bodyguard services, parchment dealers, and pawnbrokers thrive in this area.

The Hall of Speakers

The glistening spire atop the Hall of Speakers symbolizes the glory of the individual, a cornerstone of the Sign of One's philosophy. A massive statue before the building underscores the point; it depicts a woman holding an entire world. Within the walls of this stately edifice, factols and plebians engage in lengthy, detailed discussions about the precepts, statutes, and decrees affecting all Cagers.

Any cutter with a silver piece to spend can rent a meeting room in the Hall of Speakers for an hour; the administrators guarantee privacy. Cagers may also listen to - and occasionally participate in - the Speaker's Podium debates.

Scribes-for-hire can be found by the dozens outside the Hall; because of the intense competition, a scribe can be rented for an entire day for as little as 2 sp. But avoid those who claim to represent Grundlethum's Automatic Scribe an invention of Gmndlethurn Blackdagger that allegedly operates as an invisible wordsmith; a berk speaks the words, and the writing magically appears. Only Grundlethum Blackdagger himself has the Signers’ permission to solicit work in this area. Dealing with a knight of the cross-trade can result in swift retribution from the Hall’s security force.

Jeena Ealy's Compound

A fenced compound not far from the Civic Festhall is home to Jeena Ealy (Pl/♀human/F9/Society of Sensation/CG). Her bodyguards and scribes live in dormitories, also in the compound. With rich black hair, twinkling amber eyes, and a taut warrior's body, Jeena appears much younger than her 60 years. She favors Baatorian green steel armor (available from Severed Mead Weapons in the Market Ward), fruitscented perfumes, and black diamond bracelets, making her hard to miss.

Jeena's true-life adventure books've not only brought her legions of fans, but have made her arguably the ward’s most famous citizen. Twenty years ago, Jeena was known only as the wife of Forddin Ealy, an importer of rare gems. (It was he who established a trust fund to pay for the Doomguards who guard the Trioptic Nic’Epona - see below.) Following Forddin’s tragic death attempting to rescue a child from a wild dog, Jeena turned to writing for consolation.

Jeena’s initial effort, a tome about fashion trends in The Lady's Ward called* Hats, Hoops, and Hairpins*, went unnoticed but now fetches upwards of 1,000 gp from collectors. She hit her stride with her second publication, Death in the Norns, a first-person account of that savage Outland realm. In Darkest Sigil, which chronicled the horrid conditions of the Hive Ward, secured her reputation as a riveting storyteller. Subsequent books recorded an excursion into the Dwarven Mountains, a history of the Blood War, and a study of the lesser yugoloth (the latter work costing her two fingers of her right hand when an angry mezzoloth took issue with her conclusions). Drawing on her considerable fortune, Jeena employs a staff of scribes to make copies of her books.

Resourceful and courageous. Jeena controls all her own research, having spent a month exploring the Lower Planes for her yugoloth book and having lived in the Hive for an entire year prior to writing In Darkest Sigil. Though she has worked alone for most of her career, Jeena's advancing age has forced her to change her approach. She now hires freelance adventurers to do most of the legwork, including conducting interviews and verifying rumors, while she stays home writing. Currently, Jeena's outlining two books: one about the River Styx, the other about the creatures of the Beastlands. She anticipates hiring a team of skilled professionals to work with her on these projects.

Lazz School of Vivid Unpleasantess

Just down the street, from Jeena's compound is the Lazz School of Vivid Unpleasantness, impossible to ignore thanks to the brilliant hues of its stuccoed walls, walls set at impossible angles to form indescribable shapes, shapes ending in improbable spikes and blades (more improbable than any others in the Cage). Artists studying here tend toward controversial expressionism. Black-garbed buskers perform 'round the dock in the School’s public courtyard; pungent dove smoke rises from the scented pipeweed favored by the crowds who gather to absorb the atmosphere. The street musicians and avant-garde theatrical performances create a cacophony that lends a festive feel to the immediate area surrounding this island of creativity. The School’s not just for any berk. Most fans are young Indeps and Bleakers. Guvners despise the place.

Tea Street Transit

Located between the Hall of Speakers and the Hall of Records, Tea Street Transit provides pony-drawn cabs that’ll carry cutters to virtually any destination. The proprietor. Kyl Silkfoot (Pl/♂ha1f-elf/F3/Free League/LG), guarantees satisfaction. Customers shouldn't be deterred by his gruff exterior or the foul smoke from his tarweed cigars; Kyl’s ponies're dependable, his cabs as comfortable as a mother's lap

The most popular and least expensive cab is the two-wheeler, an enclosed wagon pulled by a single pony. The driver sits on the roof, shifting his weight as necessary to prevent the vehicle from tipping. The cab seats up to three passengers, who can view the passing scenery through small openings in the sides and back. More relaxing and better suited for long journeys is the four-wheeler, a larger wagon pulled by two ponies. As many as six passengers can sit inside, lounging on velvet cushions and enjoying free glasses of peach cider. Silk curtains may be drawn over the windows for privacy. The driver sits on a plank attached to the front of the cab.

A driver is included in the rental price for each type of cab. Sweeper boys (also called "apple pickers") are optional but recommended if a cutter wants to avoid confrontations with Harmonium patrols.

Pony Cabs

A two-wheel pony cab rents for 5 cp per hour and a four-wheeler for 1 sp per hour, payable at the end of the trip. As previously stated, the rental price includes a driver (who carries a whistle to attract the attention of a Harmonium patrol if a berk refuses to pay). The number of passengers has no bearing on the fare. In general, fares are non-negotiable, though on a slow day Kyl might allow his drivers to cut the prices by as much as 50%.

At an extra cost of 2 cp per hour, a sweeper boy may he hired to follow the cab and clean up after the ponies. Without a sweeper boy, there's a 20% chance per hour (noncumulative) that a Harmonium patrol intercepts the cab and charges the passengers with allowing their animals to soil the streets, an offense punishable by a 10gp fine.

Cabs will cany passengers anywhere in Sigil, except the Hive Ward. The driver also reserves the right to refuse to take passengers into areas perceived as dangerous (such as slums and high crime business districts) and to abandon the cab in case of attack.

Both types of cabs have a base movement rate of 15 and are pulled by Arcadian ponies.

A strong, thick-bodied pony from the plane of Arcadia, this beast has a light green hide and ears like a rabbit. A single tentacle, about 5 feet long, grows from its chest, just at the breastbone; the tentacle can hold a torch, helping the pony to find its way in the darkness. Though a pony can't wield weapons in its tentacle, it can snap it like a whip to inflict 1d4 points of slashing damage. Arcadian ponies will not carry riders.

Tensar's Employment Service

The bronze plaque over the doorway of Tensar's Employment Service captures the essence of the man within, for no one in all of Sigil is more trustworthy than Utadas Tensar (Pl/♂human/P10/Fraternity of Order/LG).

A portly human with a curly red beard and easy grin, Tensar's held the same job for most of his 70 years. Why he chose to spend his life operating an employment agency, albeit Sigil's best known and most successful one, is dark to everyone. A man with his leadership skills and command of magic could’ve been an explorer, an inventor, even a great ruler. But if asked about his avocation, Tensar'll sit back in his patched leather chair, fold his arms on his weathered desk, and say the words he must've repeated a thousand times: "I provide the greatest of all gifts: the gift of work. A life without work, my friend, is worse than no life at all."

Tensar operates from a nondescript red brick building in Hull Road. Employers from all corners of the city pay him a fee of 1-10 gp per month to screen and interview applicants, knowing that he'll find them capable employees. A black slate in the shop’s front window lists some of the available positions.

HELP WANTED - INQUIRE WITHIN

Responsible Persons of intelligence and stamina wanted for Arborea expedition. Includes ruin excavation in Pelion, underwater mapping in Ossa. Must supply own weapons. Additional gear furnished by employer. Preference given to elves. Wage: 70 gp/month.

Like to Travel? Exterminators, needed in Limbo to hunt red slaadi. At employer's request, no Bleakers, Anarchists, or Chaosmen. Wage: 100 gp/month.

Join the Elite: Sigil's Richest Messengers. Carriers needed at Hall of Information. Planars preferred but all qualified applicants considered. Wate: 20 gp/month.

While anyone can engage Tensar in light conversation - a compulsive talker, he'll chatter for hours on subjects as diverse as githzerai poetry, vegetarian recipes, and mathematical theory - he only considers job applicants who’ve been referred to him by an officer of the Education Bureau in the Hall of Information, or who have letters of recommendation from reputable dignitaries. Tensar interviews qualified applicants (asking questions about their background, training, and previous employment), making liberal use of detect thoughts as necessary. Applicants who convince Tensar of their integrity are asked to sign a Condition of Employment Pledge, then sent to the employers. Within a few days, Tensar contacts each employer to evaluate the applicant's performance.

Anyone whom Tensar successfully places in a job becomes a trusted Friend, privy to Tensar's remarkable Fount of information about life in Sigil. 'Course. Tensar can make that life difficult for those who disappoint him. An applicant who dishonors an employer and is fired will be a long lime finding any more honest work, Tensar'll make sure of it.

Trianym

In theory, any citizen or visitor with the proper credentials may offer an opinion in the Hall of Speakers. In practice, however, the average person is often frustrated in these efforts, as the administrators restrict both the number and type of speakers to ensure decorum.

Those unable to gain access to the Hail of Speakers might consider the Trianym, a public forum where just about anyone can speak his mind on the issues of the day. Located about a block from the Hall of Speakers, the Trianym comprises three cylindrical, black brick platforms. Sura Ekness (Pl/♂human/P5/Fraternity of Order/LN), an amiable Guvner resplendent in a silver cloak and polished copper arm hands, selects the topics and participants and supervises the debates.

At dawn, Sura posts the topic for the day's debate, then spends an hour interviewing those wishing to participate. Potential debaters must declare their faction affiliation and convince Sura of their eloquence. (The ability to speak in complete sentences usually suffices.) Sura assigns the debaters to groups of three, and schedules a time for each group.

Each group speaks for an hour. The debates have no formal structure: participants may speak as much as they like, so long as they remain on their platforms, refrain from using magic or props, and don’t stray from the topic. Sura removes any debater who violates these rules.

During the debate, spectators show their approval by tossing coins at their favorite speakers, and pelting unimpressive participants with pebbles and garbage. Exceptionally articulate debaters may be invited to the Hall of Speakers at a later date.

Three scribes write down all memorable exchanges. Excerpts from the debates may be posted the following day for public perusal, with the participants identified by their factions instead of their names.

HARMONIUM: We're sick of leatherheads callin' the Great Bazaar the Grand Bazaar. The Rule of Three demands the former. Great Foundry. Great Gymnasium. Great Bazaar. Got it, sod?

FREE LEAGUE: Call it what you will. To us, it's home, and it's simply grand. I gotta go.

XAOSITECT: Berk’s sounds me to good Bazaar!

Inside the Trianym

Debaters stand atop three identical brick platforms about 10 feet in diameter and 4 feet high, which they ascend by narrow wooden stairways. Speakers face not each other, but the spectators, who are seated on long wooden benches. A wicker basket sits beside each platform, When appreciative spectators toss coins, the debaters collect them in the baskets. When unappreciative spectators lob refuse, debaters protect themselves with small, transparent crystal shields attached to their podiums with chains. (The shield improves the user's AC by 2. For convenience, the DM may assume that the shield protects the speaker from pebbles, garbage, and similar small objects on a successful Dexterity check.)

Sura Ekness supervises the debates from a velvet cushioned wooden stool. She posts the day’s debate topic, along with names of scheduled debaters, on a wooden board near her seat.

Another wooden board next to the scribes' platform displays excerpts from the previous day's debate. Three scribes sit here on stools; Sura signals them with a nod when she feels a debate is interesting enough to transcribe. Each scribe records the words of one debater.

Trioptic Nic'epona

Perhaps the most breathtaking monument in all of Sigil, the Trioptic Nic'Epona - known affectionately as Triona - resembles a gigantic rearing Nic'Epona, her front legs curved defiantly, her long mane billowing in the wind. A short walk from the Hall of Speakers, fashioned from fist-sized chunks of azurite and onyx, the statue stands nearly 200 feet tall. Three oval eyes - one ruby, one emerald, one amber - are spaced on her forehead like the points of a triangle. Each cabochon-cut gem functions as a portal: the ruby leads to the Prime Material Plane, the emerald to Elysium, the amber to Mount Celestia. To activate a portal, a cutter must hold a small gem identical in shape and cut (but not size) to the corresponding eye, and step onto the base of the statue.

There, three square platforms - one each of ruby, emerald, and amber - function as portals. A traveler holding a gem as previously described stands on the appropriate base, speaks a command word to activate the base’s permanent teleportation circles, and embarks on the planar journey. The command words, however, are known only by a handful of dignitaries. A circle of Doomguards, armed with swords and throwing axes, surrounds Triona night and day to prevent unauthorized access.

The Guildhall and Market Wards