The Guildhall and Market Wards

Source: In the Cage: A Guide to Sigil p.80

In the City of Doors, great Profits are won and Fortunes lost on the scales of Commerce. Herein are the Halls of the Guildmasters and the secrets of their cunning Labours revealed!

The Guildhall and Market Wards mean business: nonstop, round-the-clock trade conducted by the multiverse's premiere merchants, craftsmen, and jink jugglers. Sandwiched between The Lady 's Ward and the Clerk's Ward, this is Sigil's most cosmopolitan area if it walks, crawls, or flies, and has jink to spend, it’s welcome here.

The Market's where a basher finds the basics: food, medicine, clothing, tools, transport, weapons. Here are players for a dice game or recruits for an excursion to Mount Celestia. And for a body in search of exotic merchandise - wood for a magic wand, polish for an Arcadian emerald, healing syrup for a Tiefling with an upset tummy - well, if it ain't here, it ain't anywhere, period. The area is also home to the Great Bazaar, the Free League's headquarters, a plaza where a body can shop for a month and not visit the same merchant's stall twice. Noted for its open-air cafés, the Great Bazaar's a perfect place to creature watch. Another important site's the Great Gymnasium, headquarters of the Transcendent Order, the bloods who train body and mind to work as one so they don't have to be bothered with a lot of ponderous thinking. Looking for a food shop or bathhouse? The streets around the Great Gymnasium have Sigil's finest.

The merchants of the Market Ward define Freedom as the unrestricted right to get rich. People are instruments of commerce to be exploited at the least possible cost. It's war, pure and simple, and bashers who want to survive better know the rules.

They better remember the story of Imel's Happy Tongue.

Imel's Happy Tongue

Forty years ago, Imel Brustur, a toady at the Great Gymnasium, was summoned by the factol of the Ciphers. Seems an ambassador from Ysgard was due to arrive later in the week, and the Factol wanted to throw a party in his honor. The ambassador had a taste for squid - the ink sac, to be specific. Intel's mission: Hustle over to the Great Bazaar and pick some up. He gave Imel 100 gp. "Spend whatever is necessary," he said, and told him not to return without squid in hand. "But come back soon," he warned.
"How soon?" asked Imel.
"Within 48 hours," said the Factol, hinting that if Imel failed to deliver, he’d consider a substitute of roast toady,

Imel got the message. But where to begin? Hundreds of food sellers worked in the Great Bazaar, each with his own speciality. The odds of stumbling on a squid peddler were remote.

So, Imel began with a stop at the Hall of Information in the Clerk’s Ward. Because of his connection with the factol, Imel was granted an immediate audience with the officer of the Bureau of Commerce. "I need a squid." said Imel. "What size?" asked the officer. Imel was stumped. They came in different sizes? "A big one," he said.

The officer flipped through a stack of documents "S&J Transport," he said, and gave Imel the address, Intel thought S&J Transport sounded like an odd place to buy food. But the clock was ticking, and he had no time to argue.

Rule Number One: Sometimes, it's better to know nothing at all that to half-know a lot.

Four hours later, after a ride in a two-wheeler with an Arcadian pony more interested in swatting flies with its tentacle than finding the shortest distance between two points, Imel arrived at S&J Transport. It wasn’t what he expected. There were no shelves, no merchandise, no shoppers. There wasn’t even much of an office. There was only a desk, a chair, and a snoozing bariaur with a pencil tucked behind his ear. Imel nudged the bariaur, who groped for the pencil without opening his eves. "Whaddaya need?" be mumbled. Imel felt the muscles in his neck begin to knot. He sputtered that he must’ve come to the wrong place, he didn't see anything for sale, he was sorry he woke him up. But the bariaur, stretching and yawning, explained that S&J were importers. They had access to goods anywhere in the planes and guaranteed delivery within 48 hours.

Imel smiled. The tension in his neck disappeared.
"So whaddaya need?" asked the bariaur.
"A squid," said Imel.
"What size?" asked the bariaur.
That question again. "A big one."
"Right." The bariaur made a few scribbles. "Illithid model okay?"
"Fine" said Imel, He had no idea what the bariaur was talking about.
The bariaur made a few more scribbles. "That comes to 80,000 gold - ah, let’s call it 75,000 - with 15,000 down today, and a payment schedule that we'll work out later. Well have it here tomorrow."
Imel's jaw dropped. "75,000! Are you barmy?"
The bariaur looked disgusted. "You think these things come cheap? You want it or not?"

Imel's mind raced. A squid couldn't possibly cost that much, could it? But what choice did he have? Besides, he wasn't paying for it. Imel agreed to the deal hut said he could only offer 100 gold as a down payment. The rest he’d get from his factol after the squid was delivered. The bariaur balked at first but changed his mind when he found out who Intel represented. "You’re a Cipher? As an I!" He accepted the 100 gp.

After a sleepless night in the Feathernest Inn, wondering if his factol would cough up another 74,900 gp.
Imel returned to S&J, The bariaur greeted him like an old friend, Imel looked on the table, under the table, behind the table,
"Where’s the squid?" Imel asked, "Are you blind, berk?" laughed the bariaur. "Whaddaya think that is?"

The bariaur gestured to a loading platform near the main plaza of the Great Bazaar, There, like some great bird, perched a gleaming skycraft at least 150 feet long. Three piercing rams that looked like tentacles with spear points sprouted from the bow. A towering mainmast rose from the stern.

"Whatsamatter?" asked the bariaur. "Ain't you never seen a squid-ship before? Don’t you wanna get a look at it?"

Rule Number Two: You order it, you own it.

Two events occurred in quick succession:
First, Imel was dismissed from his position at the Great Gymnasium. In no uncertain terms, his factol made it clear that Imel was responsible for settling the account with S&J.
Second, the bariaur informed Imel that S&J wanted either 74,900 gp or Imel'ss head on a plate. Imel had 24 hours to make his choice.
Imel considered retiring to the Abyss, but changed his mind and went to Chirper's, the ward's biggest tavern, instead. There, he overheard a table of drunken Doomguards whining about the lack of opportunities in Sigil. They had plenty of jink - they'd made a killing in a two-day game of nymphs and satyrs - but nothing to spend it on.

Rule Number Three: The easiest way to make a fortune is through the gullibility of others.

Imek invited himself to join the Doomguards. He began babbling about the opportunity of a lifetime, which took the form of a magnificent "pirate’s craft" in the plaza of the Great Bazaar Within an hour, Imel had them spellbound with tales of a pirate's life. Within two hours, the Doomguards were convinced they were destined to become pirates themselves. Within three hours, Imel had negotiated a price for the craft: a sum of 81,534 gp, which was, coincidentally, exactly the amount the Doomguards had won at the gaming table.

Imel paid off the bariaur, sent the Doomguards on their way, then invested the rest of the jink in a small building on Risvold Street. He dubbed his new enterprise Imel's Happy Tongue, which quickly gained a reputation as one of Sigil's premier eateries.
Today, Imel's prosperous, respected, and content. His restaurant continues to thrive. Hungry cutters wanting good meal and friendly service can do no better than die Happy Tongue.
But they should skip the squid. Imel serves only the cheap stuff.

A Look Around

The Market Ward's wealthiest merchants live along Copperman Way, while the Guildhall Ward’s elite make their homes on Dancer's Court, Well-patrolled and brightly lit, Red wind Road's a favorite haunt of street peddlers, particularly clothiers and weapons dealers. Turtle Lane's noted for its baths and spas, while Risvold Street claims the Market Ward's finest food shops, Knights of the post and other bobbers tend to nest along Newt Street, making it a good place to play high stakes dice games, sell stolen property, or get beaten up.

Don't care for the pricey bub at Chirper's? Then pull up a seat at the Yawning Rat, where they serve nothing hut cheap wheat ale; it's barely better than puddle water, but at 2 sp for a whole barrel, who's complaining? Masty’s, selling fine wines at 1 sp per glass, attracts a better class of bubber, mostly rich Indeps. Ciphers prefer the boisterous Singing Vortex, with its friendly crowds and pricey fruit drinks. Those desiring a bit more privacy might consider the Fat Candle, aptly named since a candle the size of a tree trunk in the center of the room is the only source of light. The place's so dark it’s hard to tell what’s in your cup, let alone who’s sitting next to you. Members of the Escort Guild retire to Woodman's Retreat after a long day of guiding tourists; because everything's made of wood - floors, chairs, even the cups - the owners enforce a strict no smoking policy. Tiefling bubbers flock to Dark Sigh, which serves a noxious brew of oil, sulphur, and firewater, along with howls of roasted crickets. Thugs favor Dead finger's.

Travelers needing a cheap but clean place to spend the night should head for the Feathernest Inn; 5 sp buys a hammock, wash bowl, and a locked door. For longer stays, Airion’s Boarding House provides room and board (breakfast and lunch, no dinner), hot water (10 gallons per day), and all the pumpkin tea a cutter can drink for 3 gp per week. The Flame Fits has a well-deserved reputation as a bathhouse, but owner Lard Zasskos also rents her back rooms for 3 sp per night (providing the renters don't mind the stench of ooze tubs). The Turby Inn rents so-so rooms for 2 sp per night, but it's worth putting up with dirty blankets and creaking beds for the special breakfast Turby serves to all his guests. Turby's brother imports larvae from the Gray Waste, then sells them wholesale to Turby who carves them into steaks. If he's asked nicely, Turby might share the recipe. Yum!

Portals and Mantas

It's not as easy getting around as it used to be, not since the Harmonium patrols began to enforce the Pedestrian Protection Act in the Guildhall and Market Wards. Though the act has always been on the books, nobody used to care much if somebody knocked down an old tiefling or if a coach crushed a bubber. But as soon as the merchants started to get nailed, well, suddenly everybody decided that bodies in the streets were bad for business. Nowadays, running down a pedestrian earns a reprimand at best, a fine at worst. And if the pedestrian dies, especially if he's a big shot, a cutter may find himself in The Prison, polishing Mercykiller boots with his tongue.

A cutter who's too lazy to walk has other options. He can, for instance, hire a sedan chair (3 sp per hour in most places). Not only do sedan bearers know how to cut through a crowd, they're surprisingly adept at eluding Harmonium patrols. Cutters with the patience to dodge pedestrians and navigate mudholes can rent mounts, (Try Hynighter's Horses on. Red wind Road; 1 gp rents a quality mount for an entire day.)

For an unforgettable ride, a basher should visit Nittman's Aerial Tours over on Turtle Lane. Nittman rents what he calls "flying mantas," actually carpets of flying made from sheets of thin brass cut into the shape of manta rays; the edges of the sheets are rolled to prevent the carpets from slicing anything - or anyone they happen to brush against. Each 6' x 9 1 manta has the same properties of a carpet of flying of the same size. A ride costs 10 gp per half hour, tout included (for an extra 3 gp, Nittman will guide the manta himself). The tout'll take passengers anywhere in Sigil, the Hive Ward included. Officially, mantas aren't for sale, bur word has it that Nittman'll part with one for 10,000 gp if the buyers a Guvner like himself. (Oh, and forget trying to fly off with one of these beauties; Something about the magics used causes them to stop working as soon as they leave Sigil proper. Pity the berk who's planned a getaway, only to have the manta take a dive into that bottomless space outside the ring...)

Of course, a cutter doesn't have to rent a manta to get himself a tout. Touts are everywhere, particularly in the Great Bazaar, where they're thick as hungry cranium rats on a juicy bubber. Finding a tout poses no problem; a confused-looking cutter who stands in one place long enough is bound to be approached sooner or later. Of course, just because somebody claims to be a tout don’t mean he is one, and a cutter who ain't careful might be led around in circles all day, paying as much as 1 sp per hour for the privilege. The most dependable touts in the Guildhall and Market Wards belong to the Escort Guild, a loose organization of freelancers. An Escorter'll take a cutter wherever he wants to go, charging a reasonable l sp per hour. A particularly enterprising Escorter might insist on a "rest stop" at Severed Head Weapons or Intel's Happy Tongue; merchants often make side deals with the Escorters to steer potential customers to their shops.

A cutter who wants to get to a trade city in another plane should head for the Great Bazaar, which has more planar trade portals than anywhere else in Sigil. First, though, a body’s got to find a portal, no easy feat considering that the majority of portals are of the shifting and temporary varieties, A cutter who hears a rumor about such a portal had better move fast; today's temporary portal may be tomorrow's brick wall.

Finding permanent portals isn't quite as difficult. The Portal Registry at the Hall of the Information keeps track of the best-known portals. Others can be located by asking the right folk. (Old merchants tend to know more than young bashers, Indeps seem better informed than other factions.)

Locating a portal may be easier than using it. Many are guarded, others require a user's fee. "The Transcendent Order" for instance, owns a turquoise arch behind the Great Gymnasium that leads to Elysium. They'll let a basher go through if they approve of his purpose, if he's not a Hardhead, and if he coughs up 2,000 gp.

Sightseeing

So where does the Market Ward begin and the Guildhall Ward end?
Good question.
In the old days, it was easy to tell ’em apart. The Market Ward mainly consisted of shops, inns, and more shops. The Guildhall Ward was noted for its craft guilds: organizations that worked to promote the economic interests of their members. But in time, most of the guilds fell apart. As a consequence, the Market and Guildhall Wards essentially became two parts of the same whole.

What caused the guilds’ decline? Simple. They lacked the factions' support. According to the factions, craft guilds fostered divided loyalties; bashers preoccupied with guild business couldn't devote themselves to their factions. Under pressure from the factions, the guilds gradually lost their autonomy. Some relocated, some went underground, many just withered away.

Nowadays, the differences between the Guildhall Ward and the Market Ward are incidental. The Guildhall Ward has a few more Ciphers, the Market Ward a few more Indeps. The Guildhall Ward is more residential, the Market Ward more commercial. For convenience, residents consider Duskgate Road an informal boundary; those living on one side are Guildhallers, those on the other are Marketers.

The Guildhall Ward still has a fair number of guilds, hut only a handful wield any significant influence, Most concern themselves with monitoring prices and wages, discussing trends, and finding work for their members. Some offer training seminars. A few provide modest pensions for old-timers. All of them charge annual membership dues, part of which pays the rent on their headquarters, often a warehouse basement or the top floor of a tenement. Each has a symbol, worn by members as identification, and a contact person, who serves as a liaison with the public.

Here's a sampling:

The Council of Innkeepers. This group establishes wages (for waiters, cooks, and other personnel), negotiates prices with wholesalers, and shares information about knights of the cross-trade, brawlers, and chronic bubbers. As a professional courtesy, members're allowed to stay at each other's inns at no charge. Monthly dues: 1 gp. Symbol: Crimson waist sash edged with golden lace. Contact: Bryn Ohme (PI/♂bariaur/F2/Fated/LG).

Builders' Fellowship. With more than 300 carpenters, roofers, and stonecutters, this is arguably the ward's largest guild. The Fellowship works closely with the city to secure construction and maintenance contracts for public buildings, Monthly dues; 3 gp. Symbol: Three copper bands, worn on the left wrist. Contact: Ustisha Cambris (PI/♂human/F2/Fated/LG).

Escort Guild. This organization of able, trustworthy touts focuses on training and education. (The guild requires members to memorize all the major streets in Sigil.) Members are kept informed of obstacles (such as a dead giant blocking Bellwhistle Lane) and optimum routes (Avoid Deadfinger Way; too many muggers). Monthly dues: 1 sp. Symbol: Three concentric blue circles tattooed on the forehead. Contact: Geena Mirrathar (PI/♀human/Fl/Free League/LN),

Guild of Teamsters. This guild numbers among its membership those who navigate the waters of the Ditch, moving goods from Sigil to the various gate town portals. Monthly dues: 5 sp. Symbol: Leather epaulet on right shoulder, small length of rope depending from epaulet looping under right arm. Contact: Duritz Crow (Pl/♂human/Bleak Cabal/CN).

The Order of Master Clerks and Scribes. Membership in this group is restricted to the city's finest copyists, record keepers, and accountants. The Hall of Information and Hall of Records, both in the Clerk's Ward, recruit many of their workers from this guild. Monthly dues: 1 gp. Symbol: Fingernail of right-hand pinky painted silver. Contact: Elahassa Merem (Pl/♀ human/Fraternity of Order/LN).

As for the Market Ward, a basher'd have a tough time finding a square: yard of ground without a merchant standing on it. It's shoulder to shoulder shopping, night and day, with everything From Tvashtri crossbows to bariaur hoof cleaners hawked from caravan tents and rickety stalls. To prevent customers from bumping into each other, pans of burning oil set out by merchants who care about their patrons dot the streets with light (and fill the air with noxious smoke). To keep customers dry, there're canopies and umbrellas (an Escorter'll hold one overhead for an extra 2 cp per hour). And to keep 'em broke, there're ale stands, games of chance, and a multitude of Sigil’s slickest pickpockets.

Shopping in the Market Ward

In general, all items in the Player’s Handbook equipment lists are available somewhere in the Market Ward. The DM is encouraged to supplement these lists with items described in other AD&D supplements; Aurora’s Whole Realms catalog is an especially good resource.

Most Market Ward merchants specialize in a particular type of item. For example, one merchant may sell nothing but armor, another nothing but cheese. To find a particular item, a cutter’ll have to wander around the Market Ward, ask a resident for help, or make an appointment at the Hall of Information in the Clerk’s Ward. (The Bureau of Commerce officer has a general idea of the merchandise available in Sigil. But he won’t always know where it's sold or who sells it. He's especially vague on the availability of magical items and similarly exotic merchandise.)

Prices. Use the prices given in the Player's Handbook equipment lists. A variant imported from an Outer or inner Plane may be double or triple the normal price. A normal loaf of bread, for example, costs 5 cp, while a loaf of bread made from Elysium green wheat might sell for 15 cp.

Occasionally, the Sigil government imposes a temporary surcharge on sales made in the city, boosting prices anywhere from 10-50%. A surcharge may be imposed on a general category of merchandise (food, weapons, livestock) or on a specific item (eggs, daggers, horses). Announcements of surcharges are posted outside the Hall of Records in the Clerk’s Ward, in the entryway of the Hall of Information in the Clerk's Ward, and on a display board in the Great Bazaar. So as not to depress the economy (and risk a revolt by the merchants), surcharges rarely last for more than a week or so.

Payment. Merchants accept any standard form of currency, though some may balk at metal coins other than silver or gold. If a merchant sells salt for 1 sp per pound and refuses to accept copper, a buyer wishing to purchase only a half-pound may have to buy more than he needs or forfeit his change.

Some merchants'll trade for merchandise of equivalent value. For example, a clothing dealer might accept a pound of pepper nuts (worth 2 gp) in payment for a pair of linen gloves (also worth 2 gp). A livestock dealer might trade a calf (worth 5 gp) for a pig (3 gp) and a sheep (2 gp). If the values aren't equivalent, and the buyer still wants to make a trade, values favor the merchant (a signal whistle valued at 8 sp will cost the buyer two knives worth 5 sp each). Values might favor a buyer who intimidates or impresses the merchant (as determined by the DM), or if the merchant needs to make a sale.

Earnest Money. If a buyer places an order for a hard-to-get item - a galleon, a ton of rocks from Baator, a black dragon corpse - the merchant'll probably insist on earnest money up front, ranging from 10-40% of the total cost.

A merchant who makes a good faith effort to obtain the merchandise but fails is allowed by law to retain 50% of the prepayment. If the buyer believes the merchant cheated him, he may appeal to the Department of Arbitration in the Hall of Information. When high amounts of money are involved - say, a prepayment in excess of 1,000 gp - a panel of three judges selected by the Hall of Speakers may be asked to settle the dispute.

If the merchant delivers the merchandise but the buyer fails to pay the balance due, the buyer not only forfeits the entire prepayment, but may also be subject to any or all of the following penalties:

• Posting the buyer's name on the Debtor's Pole in the Great Bazaar for at least 90 days. Most legitimate merchants will refuse to deal with the buyer during this period.
• Banning the buyer from the Hall of Information and all faction headquarters other than his own.
• Scragging the buyer (courtesy of the Harmonium), who will be imprisoned for at least 30 days and fined as much as 50 gp. The patrol may also confiscate as much of the buyer's personal property as is necessary to reimburse the merchant.

Credit. Some merchants may allow characters io make purchases on credit, particularly if the merchant and buyer belong to the same faction, or if business is slow. In such cases, the merchant typically increases the cost of the item by 25% (rounded up), then divides this total into four approximately equal payments. The first payment is due immediately, the next three payments are due on the first day of each of the following three months. (Example: A cutter wants to buy a 20-gp bull on credit. The merchant boosts the price to 25 gp, then divides the total into three payments of 6 gp and a final payment of 7 gp. The buyer pays 6 gp immediately, then makes the final three payments over the next three months.)

If a buyer's more than a week late with a scheduled payment, Sigil law allows the merchant to confiscate the merchandise and keep all payments the buyer has already made. Additionally, any of the penalties listed at the end of the repayment section above may also be imposed.

Promotianal Fliers

Some merchants publicize their businesses on fliers which they distribute throughout the city. Examples can he found elsewhere in this chapter.

Many of these fliers were designed by a crier of commerce named Harys Hatchis (Pl/♂human/W8/Free League/NG). As a promotional gimmick (and with his clients' permission), Harys has signed his name and scrawled a few words on the fliers, promising discounts and specials for customers who present the fliers to the merchants. Not every merchant honors the fliers in the same way, however, and some may not honor them at all (even though they approved Harys’s scribblings). Cutters who bring signed fliers to a business risk the merchant crumpling up the paper and tossing it into a dustbin, but they might get a small (10%) discount or a mostly worthless trinket - inch-long toy nic’Eponas have been pretty common of late.

Harys Hatschis. In his mid-forties, Harys has a bald head, a straw-thin body, and a bubber's crooked grin (although he never indulges). He lives and works in a cavernous brick building, formerly his parents' tailoring shop, where he employs a small staff of scribes and artists to execute his ideas. For frugal clients, he designs colorful posters, displaying them in a few key locations; for an extra fee, he’ll cast fly on a staff member who’ll shower the city with handbills. His staff hand-delivers announcements of new merchandise to a client's best customers, or stands on street corners and sings songs about upcoming sales. His folding puzzles, strips of paper that reveal hidden pictures when folded a certain way, remain one of his most popular creations.

For clients willing to part with the jink, Harys happily devises one-of-a-kind promotions. To announce the expansion of Hiland Pastries, he used illusionary magic to cause a giant cinnamon tart to hover over the Great Gymnasium. To publicize Tressym's Tours' "Tour of the Beastlands." he used hallucinatory terrain and panthers made from enderpine to turn a section of the Great Bazaar into a replica of Karasuthra.

He's got jink aplenty, success to spare, and respect throughout the Cage. So how come he's miserable? Simple - Harys carries a grudge the size of Mount Celestia, not against a person or group, but against an entire ward. The seeds were sown when Harys was an adolescent, working as a carrier in the Hall of Information. He wanted to be an officer in the Bureau of Commerce, and after six years of service, was sure he was next in line. Instead, Borden Mok fired him - mistakenly, claims Harys - for incinerating the Land Registry officer's message box notes instead of his waste bin refuse.

Harys then went to work in his father's tailoring shop. Harys solicited an order for military uniforms from the Hall of Speakers. The administrators gave Harys the go-ahead, then abruptly canceled the order, citing budget shortages. Harys and his family were forced to absorb the cost of the material.

A year later, the Hall of Records mistakenly assessed a tax on the clothing factory in the amount of 50,000 gp. When Harys's family was unable to pay. The Takers confiscated the manufactory and shut it down. The error was discovered a month later - the tax was supposed to be 50 gp. not 50,000 - and the factory was returned. But it was too late. The business went bankrupt and Harys's parents died in poverty.

Any wonder why Harys hates the Clerk's Ward? Since he’s not the vicious type, he's foregone violence in favor of harassment. Recently, for instance, he hired some street urchins to slop bright paint on the finer cases in the Administrator's District of the Clerk's Ward, hoping to attract the attention of the Scratcher. He's paid bubbers to use the lobby of the Hall of Records as a latrine, and coated the Trianym platforms with sovereign glue. He's also learned the combination to Bordon Mok’s vault. He’s too cagey - or maybe too cowardly? - to use the combination himself: he hopes someone else will solve the puzzle, then break into the vault and steal Mok’s treasures.

The Bronze Bezants

For cutters who need to make big purchases but have little more than cold winds and moths in their pocketbooks, there’s the Bronze Bezants. Located in the Market Ward, it’s a favored stop for Cagers and out-of-towners alike who’re in the market (heh) for major buys.

Before he'll make a loan, F. Moskin Faz (Pl/♂human/F3/Fraternity of Order/LG) requires borrowers to provide a letter of recommendation from any reputable Cager and a statement of purpose explaining how the applicant intends to use the money. Faz prefers to make loans for business ventures and family emergencies; he frowns on berks who borrow jink for luxury items.

If Faz agrees to make the loan, he spells out the terms:

1. A borrower must provide collateral in the form of merchandise or property with a value of at least 100% of the loan amount. (If the borrower wants 50 gp, Faz requires collateral valued at 50 gp or more.)

2. The loan fee is 25% of the amount requested (rounded up to the nearest gp).

3. A borrower must repay the loan in four monthly installments of approximately equal sums, beginning one month after the loan is made. When the borrower makes the final payment, Faz returns the collateral. If a borrower misses a payment, even by a day, the agreement is cancelled. Faz keeps all payments made to date, along with the collateral. Additionally, the borrower may be subject to any or all of the penalties discussed in the Earnest Money guidelines in the Shopping in the Market Ward section elsewhere in this chapter.

Chirper's

To lure wealthy tourists to the Market Ward and keep them there, ten affluent merchants (whose names remain dark) pooled their Funds to build Chirper's, a sprawling inn located near the Great Bazaar. Now in its second century of operation. Chirper's is known throughout the multiverse for its tasty meals, spacious rooms, and dazzling entertainment. And regardless of faction, race, or profession, everybody's welcome - especially clueless primes and provincial planars with heavy purses. Guests who don't care for water in their bathtubs may opt for lava, ice crystals, or molten copper. Rooms may be cooled, heated, or gassed, per the occupant’s request.

It's this open-door policy that’s made Chirper’s so popular. Street sweepers nib shoulders with moneylenders, bariaur toss dice with tieflings. The bubber passed out in the corner may be a millionaire or a murderer. Or both.

Cutters who tire of drinking can sample the inn's superb cuisine while gazing on the exotic creatures in the exhibition spheres. They can visit the shops or peruse the Skull Museum (and wonder, as thousands have before, if the Carceri monkey skull is the real thing or a clever counterfeit). They might invite guests to join them in the Dance Plaza or enjoy a performance in the Seawind Theater. And at the end of a long evening, they can rent an upstairs room for 8 sp and catch some sleep.

Some guidelines for die first-timer:

Like all inns. Chirper’s expects a few fights. If a brawl gets out of hand, the Mercykiller bouncers toss the scrappers into the street, and that’s the end of it. But a berk who pulls a weapon'll be restrained in a holding room by the bouncers, who'll summon a Harmonium patrol to scrag the rowdy. To avoid such embarrassment, patrons are encouraged to check their weapons in the cloak room.

Don't annoy the creatures in the exhibition spheres. Last month, a bubber teased the Maladomini tiger with a chunk of raw goat; the tiger broke the sphere, had the goat for an appetizer, then dined on the drunk.

Guests who wish to meet a Seawind Theater performer should leave a note on the stage, asking the performer to meet them at the bar for a drink. It's considered a breach of etiquette to disturb performers in their dressing rooms.

Inside Chirper's

An immense brass eagle mounted just inside the foyer, above the oaken front doors, glares down at entering customers. A handsome bariaur doorman in a velvet weskit greets regular patrons by name. Immediately inside the doors, a check room awaits guests' cloaks, coats, hats, and weapons. Those who wish to freshen up after their pony cab ride (or almost certainly eventful walk) can do so in the rose-scented lavatory. The buckets and troughs are emptied hourly; after all, this is a first-class place.

Amber lamps hanging from the ceiling bathe the chestnut-paneled dining room in soft light. Fireplaces flicker in the corners, oval mirrors dot the walls. Customers sit at round oaken tables covered with linen tablecloths, each embroidered with a different species of songbird. A body may have a seat at the oblong bar, made of chestnut with brass inlays, or be served in the dining room. Specialties include Gzemnid beer, githzeriai altar mead, and 200 varieties of wine (stored in a cellar, accessible through a trapdoor behind the bar). Those preferring nonalcoholic beverages may choose between coconut cider and Thuinn sheep's milk (sweetened with vanilla).

Centered in the dining room are three 20-footdiameter spheres made of transparent crystal (AC 17; 40 points of damage shatters a sphere). Each sphere contains a different species of rare creature, along with whatever foliage, minerals, and scenery are necessary to simulate its native habitat. Small holes in the top of the spheres provide ventilation. The proprietors change the exhibits every few months, since new creatures guarantee a surge in business. The current exhibits include a Maladomini tiger (from Baator, it resembles a cheetah made of black granite; its sphere is filled with jagged rocks and a pool of mud), a batfly (from Chamada in the plane of Gehenna, it resembles a butterfly with bat wings, made of solid iron; molten lava lines the bottom of its sphere), and an eyewing (from the Abyss; it hovers silently in the otherwise empty sphere).

Patrons who prefer to take their meals in seclusion may reserve the private dining room for 3 gp per night. The price includes the services of two waiters and a Mercykiller guard who stands outside to ensure the diners aren't disturbed.

Anyone who threatens an employee or another customer with a weapon is locked in the iron-walled holding room. Pulling the copper chain hanging over the door activates a flare on the roof of the inn, shooting streamers of color into the air (similar to die effects of a color spray spell) and alerting the nearest Harmonium patrol.

Chirper's employs a staff of 40 chefs (working 8-hour shifts in groups of 10) capable of preparing anything from light snacks to multi-course feasts. The kitchen's equipped with two iron ovens (each big enough to roast a whole pig), two huge wood burning stoves, and an herb garden. The standard menu features creamed fish sandwiches, mulberry salad, Shurrock mushrooms, roast rack of Niflheim stag, pepper nut casserole, and broiled slaad legs; a typical dinner costs 6 sp (beverages extra). Chirper’s sugar biscuits - delicate pastries made of chestnut dough and Bytopian honey - come with all meals.

A unique feature of Chirper's is the row of specialty shops along the left wall of the dining area. Quick Clip, operated by a Prime half-elf barber, offers hair, beard, tail, and mane trims. Sweet Fang carries a selection of fine candies from across the multiverse. The biggest seller: chunks of honey Fudge shaped like wrens, each bearing the word "Chirper's." At Portraits by Suruax, a tiefling artist creates a pastel caricature of anyone who wishes to pose. A typical portrait takes about 20 minutes to complete and costs 2 gp. Finstyr's Florals is a full-service florist, specializing in exotic plants from the Inner Planes. Delivery's available to anywhere in Sigil except the Hive Ward.

Patrons of Chirper's are admitted free of charge to the Skull Museum, which features a variety of skulls from across the multi verse. Included are the skulls of a gargantua magnum, a bozak draconian, a cat lord, and what's reputed to be a Carceri monkey (three pyramid-shaped skulls attached to the same bronze spine}.

The Dancing Plaza, an outdoor dance floor made of polished oak and enclosed by a cast iron fence, provides entertainment for patrons. A mandolin quartet (sometimes augmented with a balalaika player) performs in a shallow pit in the center of the floor.

Clouds of incense fill the 100-seat Seawind Theater with the salty aroma of ocean-blown air. Velvet curtains hang from the proscenium, which frames a raised stage about 50 feet wide and 20 feet deep. Beneath the stage are docks for scenery storage. On either side of the stage is a small dressing room. Wrens nest in the rafters, fluttering over the heads of the audience and occasionally chirping along with the performers (giving the inn its name). A program distributed to customers in the dining room and posted outside the inn announces the current lineup of performers; a new act performs each hour, 8 hours per day, with a ten-minute break between acts.

The second floor has 62 guest rooms, each with an oversized feather bed, a bowl of cut flowers (fresh daily), and a marble bathtub. Unless the guest requests otherwise, a waiter delivers a complimentary breakfast at dawn: a plate of fresh grapes, a half-loaf of fruitbread, a container of lime jam, and a flask of Thuinn sheep's milk.

Ensin's Discount Elixers

Ensin (PI/6 human/W7/Free League/LG] brews his potions with cheap components - obtained mostly from the Outer Planes - and shortcut techniques. Consequently, while the potions are relatively inexpensive, their effects aren't particularly dramatic.

Potion of small animal friendship: Similar to potion of animal control. The user can control 1-4 non-magical animals no larger than normal rats, with an intelligence rating no higher than 1 (animal).

Potion of limited invisibility: Similar to potion of invisibility. It only works at night (or in nighttime conditions, such as a dark room or an underground cavern), and then only for 1d3 turns.

Potion of limited healing: Similar to potion of healing. The user recovers only 1d6 points of damage.

Potion of blue hue: Similar to potion of rainbow hues. The user can become only one color: light blue.

Potion of drowning resistance: Similar to potion of water breathing. The user can breathe water for only 10 rounds.

Emin will sell only the indicated number of doses to any given customer. Also, Ensin tends to sell out quickly and may not have every potion available at all times.

The Great Bazaar

The Free League considers all visitors to the Great Bazaar - the Indep headquarters - as potential customers, which means everyone gets treated more or less the same. So long as bashers don’t tease the two-headed pigs in the livestock pavilion or blow their noses in the silk can, they're free to shop as long as they like. A basher in need of jink might check the Debtor's Pole. Merchants from all over Sigil use the pole to post the names of sods who haven't paid their bills. Some names have rewards attached. A basher who returns a wanted sod to the creditor named on the pole pockets the reward.

Unlike most other Faction headquarters, the Great Bazaar isn't contained in a single building. Rather, it's spread out over a magnificent open-air plaza, a huge square of tents, shops, and stalls. The Bazaar is a cacophony of sounds - shouts, clanks, shrieks, barks, whistles - and a sea of smells - hot bread, peach perfume, fresh paint. Though generally confined lo the plaza, the Bazaar has no formal borders; a merchant who can't find room to set up shop on the plaza is squeezed onto a side street. On any given day, then, the Great Bazaar might not only be Sigil's busiest faction headquarters, but also the largest.

The Great Gymnasium

With its gold-decked marble walls, plush velvet carpets, and onyx chandeliers, the Great Gymnasium is perhaps the most luxurious of all the faction headquarters. The Ciphers take their relaxation as seriously as their physical training. Here, more berks have their backs in hammocks than their noses in books. Sounds louder than whispers are considered unnecessary noise - unless a berk's in the workout rooms.

Its almost worth becoming a member of the Transcendent Order just to rake advantage of the Great Gymnasium. In one of its rosemary-scented steam baths, an hour's like a week in the Pearly Heaven. Oranges and lemons bob in the ivory-tiled pool for the convenience of hungry swimmers. And this is where the powers come for rubdowns (well, not really - but they would if the Lady’d let 'em in).

Though bashers of all persuasions're supposedly welcome at the Great Gymnasium, only Ciphers have free access. Everybody else has to follow a strict set of rules or, unless they know how to move really fast, face the wrath of beefy security guards. For starters, the Gymnasium's only open to the public when the Ciphers say it is, usually for a couple of hours either side of antipeak. Check the sign outside: admission times change faster than a Convert changes alliances. Weapons are forbidden, as are magical items and snacks. (Guests are supposed to buy the stuff the Ciphers sell.) A basher wanting a rubdown or time in a specialty room (workouts, artistic pursuits, musical training, etc.) has got to make an appointment a week in advance, which may be cancelled at a moment's notice if a Cipher decides to go first. And for anyone but a Cipher, the pool fruit costs 3 cp per piece. Of course, all these conditions may be waived if a visitor’s here on business; the Ciphers take pride in all the treaties, pacts, and deals that've been made in these steam baths, and they’re intent on maintaining a good reputation.

Xanist's Shop

Another useful shop is but a block away from the Great Gymnasium. As its owner says, "Success is an inevitable consequence of perception, diligence, and perseverance." So what if she’s got an ego the size of The Lady's Ward? Xanist (Pl/♀human/W6/Free League/LN) has the talent to back it up. At the tender age of four years, she built a sentient rat trap to catch the vermin in her parents' basement. At twelve, she designed the city's first four-wheeled Arcadian pony cab. At eighteen, she went into business for herself, setting up shop a block from the Great Gymnasium where she works to this day, designing inventions for anyone with a bag of jink to spend. (Make that two bags - Xanist doesn't work cheap.)

Xanist's skill is matched only by her arrogance. Asked to explain how an invention works, she’s apt to roll her eyes and sneer, "Why explain the donkey cart to the donkey?" Obsessed with her appearance, she has an aide whose only job is attending to her curly brown locks. Xanist buys floor-length linen coats by the wagonload; she wears a new coat every day, disposing of the old in an incinerator.

Xanist prefers mechanical devices to spells, considering magic a crutch. "Anyone can lift a brick with a levitation spell." she says. "But lifting it with gears and pulleys requires a special genius." She slums the company of humans, instead relying on a trio of trained monkeys - shaggy, doll-faced simians from Elysium - as aides. Xanist sharpened the monkeys’ teeth to fine points, enabling them to double as bodyguards.

Currently, Xanist is tinkering with a device she calls the "batfly harness." It consists of a pair of batlike metallic wings that fasten to a basher's back, with a hand crank protruding from a panel on his chest, all held in place with leather straps. Turning the crank makes the wings flap, allowing the basher to fly. Xanist believes the device will make her a fortune, and she’s probably right. The only problem: It doesn’t work. Xanist thinks she could iron out the bugs if she had a real batfly to study, but the only one in Sigil is on display in Chirper’s, and the owners ain’t selling. Xanist is willing to finance an expedition to Gehenna to catch a batfly. But so far, she hasn’t found anyone brave enough - stupid enough? - to take her up on her offer.

Zakk's Corpse Curing

Near the Great Gymnasium, a small building houses one of the more useful (if disturbing) businesses in this ward. If bashers find the message inscribed on the iron door of Zakk’s Corpse Curing depressing...

Mourn not for death but for birth.

...just wait'll they step inside. As dark as a tomb, reeking of quicklime and rotten meat, tire place is packed with taxidermy specimens - horses, lizards, giant rats, and just about everything else that walks, crawls, or slithers. And in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows, stand a githzerai warrior holding a brass sword, a tiefling maiden draped in silken robes, and a plump elf waiter carrying a serving tray. They're stuffed, too.

A self-taught taxidermist - Sigil’s best, for what it's worth - Mhasha Zakk (Pl/♀human/F4/Dustmen/CN) will stuff anything for anyone for any reason. Trophies, souvenirs, conversation pieces: Zakk doesn’t care. She loves her work so much, she’s cut her prices to the - er - bone. Prices range from 2 gp for a cat or dog to 20 gp for a man-sized creature. (Or a man.)

Unlike most Dustmen, the 80-year-old Zakk's surprisingly cheerful, probably because she's surrounded by her favorite companions. Always dressed in a clean black robe, her silver hair tied in long braids, she greets visitors with a crinkled smile and cups of steaming orange tea. She may ask permission of especially striking visitors to stuff them after their demise.

A cutter wanting to pick up some quick jink would do well to stop at Zakk's, as she always needs someone to do odd jobs. She pays 1 sp per day for making deliveries and disposing of skinned carcasses. (Since Zakk doesn't care what happens to the carcasses, an enterprising cutter's free to sell them to a butcher.)

Collectors tend to bring her their more interesting finds, as she pays better than the Mortuary; besides, one never knows when one might need to call in a favor from a taxidermist. ("Proof of that cambion you killed in the Abyss? Right here, sir.") She’s also in the market for unusual corpses to add to her collection; a cutter who brought her an intact ooze mephit corpse, for instance, could probably name the price.

The Hive Ward