The Planes Await
The Planes. Out here, things’re different, so a sharp cutter’d best open his ears, or he just might lose ’em.
Remember this one if you’re not gonna remember anything else: belief is everything. The poor sod who don’t believe in diddly’d best go back to whatever clueless Prime world he came from, because out on the Planes, belief’s got power. Real power. Mountains can be shaped with a thought, bergs moved with a feeling, entire civilizations put in the dead-book with just a word or two. It don’t take a Signer to see that that’s why the Factions are such a big deal—more minds to believe, more potential for things to happen. Just remember that when you go and get on their bad side, eh?
Second thing’s second: the Planes are infinite. A basher who wants to walk the Planes has gotta find themselves two things—a portal, and its key. Or just the key if you’re a barmy who just likes stumbling through gates all willy-nilly, in which case, have fun on the 666th layer of the Abyss, berk! If you’re not though, then tumbling to the dark of where a gate is and how to open it is the only way to go from one plane to another. Just remember, could be anything from walking through a doorway with a sword on your belt, to jumping up and down in a barrel hoop at antipeak while singing a Ysgardian battle-chant.
And lastly: at the center of it all is Sigil. And no, I don’t mean ‘si-Jill’—it’s ‘si-Gull’, berk! And if you can’t get that one through your head just call it the Cage. The City of Doors. The Crossroads of the whole bleedin’ Multiverse! And before you go asking about how any place can be the center of an infinite universe, don’t; if you wanna debate that one, go to the Hall of Speakers. Thing is, Sigil’s got more portals than an Arborean brothel, and bodies from all over come and go ‘cause of that, so it’s more of a center than anywhere else. Devils n’ angels rub shoulders with humans and djinn, all under the watchful eye of Her Serenity, the Lady of Pain. Best not mess with Her though, or even look Her way. That’s more trouble than even the Powers can handle. Just ask Aoskar.
Remember all that, and you just might survive longer out here than a water mote on the Plane of Fire! Now where’s that jink ya’ promised?