Sigil
“Now, some folks’ll tell you there’s a place beyond the far edge of the sky—Sigil, they call it. City o’ Doors, City o’ Smoke. Ain’t built on land, nor hangin’ from heaven, just floats there like a halo with no angel to wear it. They say every door in that place opens somewhere different—one step takes you home, the next drops you clear outta creation.
Nobody round here’s ever been, far as I can tell. But every drifter swears they met someone who knew a feller who sold horses to a barkeep from Sigil once. Maybe it’s true, maybe it ain’t. But if you ever find a door that don’t cast a shadow right—best leave it shut.”
Nobody round here’s ever been, far as I can tell. But every drifter swears they met someone who knew a feller who sold horses to a barkeep from Sigil once. Maybe it’s true, maybe it ain’t. But if you ever find a door that don’t cast a shadow right—best leave it shut.”
Variations & Mutation
There’s a city out there where every street’s a doorway to somewhere else. Folks call it Sigil, the City o’ Doors. They say the sky’s a ring around your head, an’ there ain’t no sunrise nor sunset—just endless twilight and smoke. Deals get made there with things that ain’t human, and if you ain’t careful, one wrong door’ll drop you in a place that don’t take kindly to breathing folk.”
Comments