<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/7e/Goldenmorningradiance.jpg)<br/><em>Golden Morning Radiance</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Golden Morning Radiance<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Sensate Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Harmony, Open<br/><br/>The almond-eyed woman was a stranger in the private halls of the Sensate Sensoriums. It happened, from time to time- an addict itching for unfiltered experience, or a rebellious sod with more curiosity than caution, oft times. Golden Morning Radiance was neither. She was bedogged by something unseen, scampering silently through the rings within rings of the Sensorium halls on shoes made of cloth, a flash of colorful cloth around endlessly curving corners. Soon, she reached the open gallery to the levels above and below, where the guard would be on her if they were not already. She spun around, and in her rush nearly ran into Harmony. She was a tickle of silk, and a scent of fading ritual incense, and quickly backed away.<br/><br/>It shocked her that the modron was naked, even though modrons could be said to always be naked. Her hands came up to shield her eyes, both of them, in a stiff-fingered steeple over her nose. Her mouth was a line of embarrassment. "Forgive me," she said, though her fingers began to tilt to allow her to see more. The necklace drew her attention. "Are you...a Sensate god?" Already, her voice sounded ready to believe that the strange creature before her was divinity. But there were no gods allowed in Sigil- everybody knew that. "I didn't mean to upset your shrine. I only came to pray for an experience. Please- I need to change my fate, or the Judge of the Dead will find me a dull waste of life. Will you help me?"</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/2c/Doomguardra-aketh.jpg)<br/><em>Doomguard Ra'aketh</em><br/>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/95/Doomguardtaurnil.jpg)<br/><em>Doomguard Taurnil</em><br/>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/36/Doomguardmalmury.png)<br/><em>Doomguard Malmury</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Ra'aketh, Taurnil, and Malmury<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Public Sensoriums, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Peregrine, Alzeggra, Open<br/><br/>As Peregrine was departing, the three strangers moved deeper into the Civic Festhall, past the lecture halls where the experts and blowhards of the planes were sharing their experiences with an eager new generation of planewalkers through story and demonstration. Through one open door, an ursine creature with tiny spectacles perched on his distinguished muzzle and dressed in a robe embroidered with sweeping celestial imagery was giving a lecture on the rakasta of a world called Mystara. Within another training hall were the sounds of target practice, the howl of wind and the sizzle of fire as pockets of planar energy posed the challenge of learning to shoot in the tunnels of Pandemonium or the killing blaze of the Plane of Fire. One of the strangers- the elf rogue- stopped to watch a moment.<br/><br/>"Come along, Taurnil" the githzerai called after him, "their education is a farse."<br/>"Isn't it worthwhile to learn how to fight?" asked the elf.<br/>"If you wish to throw knives into the winds of Pandemonium, go there, and do it. Training with simplistic mockeries will only teach you to fight simplistic mockeries," the githzerai deadpanned. "To reduce the great entropy of the planes to a classroom exercise is folly. All of this is folly."<br/>"Lay it on thick enough, Ra'aketh?" said the witch.<br/>There was a moment's ponderance from the elf, and then they continued on. There were crowds already pouring into the Public Sensorium as they arrived. The rogue bumped shoulders with someone in the hall, and a recorder stone clattered to the rough-textured floor. "Oi, you're in a hurry," the elf grunt. He scooped up the stone, twirled it lightly through his fingers, and pressed such an object into the palm of its owner. "Be more careful with those."<br/><br/>They were farther in, among the tiny chambers of the budget Sensoriums, when the rogue opened his hand again and the pilfered recorder stone flipped nimbly over his knuckles. "Right, that's my part done. Let's get on with it, shall we?"<br/>The pacing of the witch's staff came to a stop as she sighted the gawkers come to see the late Nilasa. "Is that what I think it is?" she wondered with more wicked amusement than one really ought to have watching people grieve. "Some berk's shuffled the mortal coil in one of them. Most likely orgasmed to death."<br/>"That does not happen," the githzerai said. "But keep your ears open." His beady eyes lingered for a long moment on Alzeggra there by the body, as the three of them together moved down the hall and into an available Sensorium.<br/><br/>No sooner had the door closed than the recorder stone's magic sprang to life for the three Sinkers.</td></tr></tbody></table>