Ég rambaði á <a href="http://www.planewalker.com“> Planewalker</a>, skrítna síðu sem að fjallar um bara um Planescape heiminn. Nokkuð skemmtilegir hlutir þarna, þar á meðal <a href=”http://www.planewalker.com/eye/index.shtml“>The Eye</a>. þetta er staður þar sem að hægt er að kynnast málfarinu í Planescape á stuttum tíma. Ég ákvað sýna ykkur smá brot. Ef þið skiljið allt sem hann Ashenbach segir, þá eruð þið svo sannarlega alvöru tungutemjarar!

Now, to really understand th' dark of all of this, ya first need to understand that Sydney is more than just an ol', borin' scroll-pusher. Now, suren he'd spend nearly all his time, from peak to anti, sittin' in those Guvner countin' houses, writin' up writ after writ, but that was only ta keep th' Fated taxmen off'n his back. Sydney, though, was different than most sods. He knew that he was a cutter that was as sharp as the Lady's blades and there was more destined for him than to be a Guvner blotter for the rest of his days. He felt it in his bones and was tryin' his best in Sigil to make a name for himself. Ya see, the cutter had come up with an idea that was unlike any that had been seen at that time - a chant rag unlike any other! Now, the Cage has its share of newsrags, ya see, and all of ‘em claim that they are spillin’ the darks for all to see and that they do it better than any other. The only problem is that they only lann the chant on the Cage itself.

As we all know, the City of Doors is a right tarmy kip, the end-all of the multiverse, it ain't! The planes are big, cutter, and there's a lot of darks out there just squakin' like a vrock to be lanned. So, ol' Sydney set out to lann ‘em in his spare time. The sage scratched up what jink he could, and using a few contacts that he had made through his work for the Fraternity, he began compiling the darks of Sigil and the planes that he thought needed tellin’. He decided to put them into a leafer that would all be bound up together and then a berk could just look through ‘em, and then pass ’em on to another sod. He decided that he'd call it a ‘magrag’ and that he'd put out ‘batches’ of stories.

This all went well for awhile and the magrag did well, but competition is stiff in Sigil, bloods. Soon, the other newsrags in the Cage started snagin' all of his cullers and then the old man's jink started to dwindle. Quicker than a dabus can think, the poor basher was out of business. The Guvners gave him th' axe, sayin' that he was breakin' his contract with them by runnin' his own ‘rag. Poor ol’ Sydney was out on the street, which in Sigil, is almost as sure a death sentence as is the Wyrm itself. The sage packed his gear and hit the ‘Land.

Which, as you might surmise, is where ol’ Ashy comes in. I caught up with Sydney and over a few Ysgardian ShieldSlammers, he told me his bard's tale. Like any good tiefer, I saw only possibility in the sod's poison. I told him that I would set him up with a kip in Ironridge (I had recently ‘come into’ some property there in a game of chance with an aasimar) and that he could use my extensive network of contacts as cullers. In exchange, ol' Ashy got his name on the top of a top-shelf magrag that is sure as Sigil to do well. I thought that it was a match made in Elysium…

We rustled up some staff and some cullers for the magrag and got to work immediately. Since the mag (as we decided to call it) already had ten ‘batches’ out there floatin' around, we just decided to pick up from where we left off. The name of the ol' Sigil magrag, The Lady's Sharper Eye, I loved more than baked fhorge ribs, so we decided to keep that as well. Besides, I thought that it would as funny as a tanar'ri tea-party if the magrag became known across the planes as the ”Outland 'rag with the Sigil name".

Royal Fool

P.S. Þetta er einungis brot af öllu því ruglaða málfari sem tíðkast í Planescape!