Post by Stix on Feb 16, 2007 9:46:57 GMT -5
On the ring of Sigil, this ward runs from the edges of the Shattered Temple to beyond the walls of the Hive, the Xaositect headquarters that give the ward its name. Embraced within the ward, among other sites, are the Mortuary and the Gatehouse. The Hive Ward is physically synonymous with the chaotic sprawl and the tangled slum that surrounds it. Indeed, it's almost impossible to be sure where the faction headquarters end and the true slum begins.
Life in the Hive is the worst of all places unless, of course, a berk likes living in the heart of decay, where anyone's life is cheaper than the cost of a cutter's next meal. Life here is seldom boring, but it's also short and deadly. Honest work is scarce, so people live by whatever means they can. For most, that means stealing or signing on for dangerous jobs that no sane basher'd touch. This is where a cutter goes when he needs bodies for a staged riot, if he wants to raise a company of ill-trained fighters, or if he wants an assassin willing to risk all on a desperate job.
There's high-ups and bloods within the Hive, too. They're smart and careful. They know how to hide from their enemies and conceal their wealth behind seamy facades. (Those that can't do so just don't make it that high.) They're the master thieves and the most unscrupulous of adventurers.
Not everybody in the Hive's evil and sinister, though. The ward holds more than its share of noble folks, too: folks broken by Sigil or their enemies. There's poets and bards waiting for their break, wizards who've spent their fortunes researching some impossible dream, and out-of-town warriors who went out on the town and woke up broke. Then there's the barmies - the mad and insane who can't confront the reality of the planes. They're all found in the Hive.
Proper business is pretty thin in the ward, but there's still things bought and sold. Thieves and fences ply their wares here, as do pawnbrokers and moneylenders. There's secret slave markets, too. For entertainment, there's dives that sell the cheapest bub possible, and gladiatorial pits where a basher can stake her life against another's. None of it's glamorous, and there's always an air of desperation to a body's doings here.
Life in the Hive is the worst of all places unless, of course, a berk likes living in the heart of decay, where anyone's life is cheaper than the cost of a cutter's next meal. Life here is seldom boring, but it's also short and deadly. Honest work is scarce, so people live by whatever means they can. For most, that means stealing or signing on for dangerous jobs that no sane basher'd touch. This is where a cutter goes when he needs bodies for a staged riot, if he wants to raise a company of ill-trained fighters, or if he wants an assassin willing to risk all on a desperate job.
There's high-ups and bloods within the Hive, too. They're smart and careful. They know how to hide from their enemies and conceal their wealth behind seamy facades. (Those that can't do so just don't make it that high.) They're the master thieves and the most unscrupulous of adventurers.
Not everybody in the Hive's evil and sinister, though. The ward holds more than its share of noble folks, too: folks broken by Sigil or their enemies. There's poets and bards waiting for their break, wizards who've spent their fortunes researching some impossible dream, and out-of-town warriors who went out on the town and woke up broke. Then there's the barmies - the mad and insane who can't confront the reality of the planes. They're all found in the Hive.
Proper business is pretty thin in the ward, but there's still things bought and sold. Thieves and fences ply their wares here, as do pawnbrokers and moneylenders. There's secret slave markets, too. For entertainment, there's dives that sell the cheapest bub possible, and gladiatorial pits where a basher can stake her life against another's. None of it's glamorous, and there's always an air of desperation to a body's doings here.