THE BLADED THRONE She floated through the City of Doors, her head crowned with a series of knives and blades. People, huddled, frightened, watched from the doorways of their homes, watching with the many coloured eyes of a thousand races. The Lady of Pain commanded respect as he glided through the many twists and turns of the city of Sigil, her feet never touching the ground but rather, remaining one inch above it. She had protected the city for as long as anybody could remember. The city of Sigil and the Lady of Pain could not exist without one another - they would always be the Lady of grace and danger and the city that many believed was the only thing she had ever loved. The white spire of Sigil. The grey Lady. As inseparable as could be. Without her, the city would crumble, and without the city, she would cease to exist, with no faith or power to sustain her. She glided to the heart of the city, the center of the Grand Bazaar. Devils and demons eyed her with the same interest as the divine host and archons. The Lady of Pain only showed her face rarely, but her face was enough to make even the most powerful of brawlers tremble, and show her respect. She was the reason that the wars of the other planes didn't over take the city. Even the primes, those mortal travelers who wandered the planes, knew better than to earn her wrath. Nobody spoke to her. She spoke to no-one. It was said that to hear her voice would rend even the boldest and most stalwart to insanity. She was, however, quite beautiful, if severe. And then, she began to speak for the first time in what seemed like forever, Her voice was not like you might have expected it. It was light, silky, and the insanity that had been rumored didn't seem to play a role. What was interesting, however, was what she said - far more interesting than her voice. She didn't have to say much. After she said it, she disappeared, but her words rang in the head of any berk who had seen her, and every berk who hadn't; "I abdicate. I, the Lady of this City, surrender my powers to the mercy of the Outlands. Gods preserve you." The murmur that the Lady of Pain had gone, never to return, spread through the city. The factions that had fought so hard for their place despaired and rejoiced, and the citizens steadily began to be aware of a very important fact; the City of Doors was starting to be sold, piece by piece, to the highest bidder. And there were many powerful sorts who would like to get their hands on the beautiful city of legend and lore.... A strange knight burst through the door at a small pub in the City of Doors. The pub was dark, with hardwood booths with red cushions, and a heavy ornate bar with a red marble counter-top. The bartender was a burly orc of some kind, with small horns, who rubbed a wine glass with a towel vigorously. In the corner, a devil played piano - classic arrangements, primarily. A variety of couples and groups talked in hushed tones in all sorts of languages, from the bright words of Celestial to the dark musings of Infernal. The knight glanced around at the patrons, breathing heavily. He looked exhausted, as if he had been running for some time. The truth was, he had been running for some time, running through the streets of Sigil, to find his friend and companion, to tell him of what had happened to the Lady of Pain. The whole city was humming with the news. The oddly dressed knight (his chainmail was black, and his armour was orange, almost like it had rusted) scanned the room. His companion would want to know, desperately. He ended up announcing it. The bar would find out soon enough. "The Lady of Pain is gone." This was met with boos, cheers, and stunned, shocked, silence.