This is thread for some of my short stories. No idea if I should create a seperate thread for responses or anything... So I won't. 
These short stories are supposed to be the Planar equivalent of some fables told by a canny Prime called Aesop. As such, they have a moral which would be best learned by those who wish to wander the Planes, as a sort of "what to do/not do".
I was convinced to put them here by Arytiss, in case you were wondering why I'm just joining now.
I'm still hard at work on the fourth (read: not overloaded with so much coursework that I need a distraction), which has some... interesting plot points.
Just in case, I'll link to a (pre-Faction-War) Cant Dictionary, from Mimir.net.
And in the third one, I misplaced some buildings. I'd appreciate any feedback on what I should/could have instead. Thanks.
The first impression Primes and Clueless (especially when the Prime IS a Clueless, or vice-versa) or Sigil hits them hard. It's called being Sigil-struck. Well, think of that, then look at the title.
One day, half a turn ago, before the Faction Wars raged and the Lady's Edict was issued, a clueless Prime entered Sigil for the first time.
This man was called Elas Blakeley. He was a miserly, greedy, cantankerous berk, who loved jink and hated people. In his home, he had ammassed an enormous amount of jink by shrewd business practises, clever stock buying and, when no other possibility presented itself, out-and-out banditry and thievery.
Entering Sigil, he was Sigil-struck, as most Primes are. However, when he'd recovered a few minutes later, he was awed by the grandeur of The Lady's Ward and other parts of the Cage. He became, in many ways, jink-struck.
He had left his vast fortune in his world, and had no idea how to return home. As such, he decided to remain in Sigil, and seek his fortune. Or, since he had very little in the way of jink, someone else's.
Elas tried cunning buying and selling. However, due to the enormous amount of people and traders in Sigil, someone always had enough of the goods he was selling. He never got up enough courage to investigate portals to other planes, since he was in no way brave. He had tended to hire other to take his risks for him.
So, he turned to thievery. And, for a while, he did very well. He bubbed naïve berks, he picked pockets, and occasionally mugged people who seemed to have no assisstance or weapons. He wasn't very brave, but he wasn't stupid. He had learned early on in his life that a chiv in the right place tends to make all the difference. As long as it's in his hand and pressed against the berk's heart, it's in the right place.
However, he then made a very bad, very fatal mistake.
He tried to mug a dabus.
He had been watching the dabuses for some time, and he thought that they seemed harmless. What interested him, however, was how they were floating. Due to his completely anti-social nature, he had no idea why they floated (to be honest, neither does anyone else. But they would have told him what the dabuses were, and prevented this), but common sense dictated that it must be some kind of magic ring. By this stage, his greed was overcoming his cunning.
A few days later, he decided to make his move. He saw a dabus go down an alleyway, and followed. When he was behind it, he jumped on it, and held his knife to its throat. "Don't move," he hissed, "or I'll have to slit your throat. And I don't want to ruin my clothes." The dabus attempted to communicate, but Blakeley hadn't a clue what was happening. Suddenly, he realised that another reason why the dabuses floated might be because they were master wizards or sorcerors.
"Stop casting your magic," he snarled, "or you'll regret it." Once again, the dabus attempted to explain. Blakeley became more fearful and, in his fear, he sealed his fate.
He slit the dabus's throat.
The rebuses stop whirling about the dabus's head. Its eyes lost their glimmer. And slowly, very slowly, it collapsed.
There was a gasp from the mouth of the alley. Blakeley whirled around to see that there was a witness to his crime. Blakeley had seen the man before and thought him insane. The man kept talking in the most peculiar way Blakeley had heard.
"Is coming of shadow Lady the razored." he said. "Shadow Barking-Wilder before leave come will."
Blakeley was beginning to get panicky. He had heard what the barmy Xaositect had said, but didn't understand. All he knew was that the only person to have witnessed the murder was a madman without any weapons. He ran towards him. Barking-Wilder ducked out of the way faster than Blakeley thought he was capable of, and Blakeley ran past him into the square.
There was a sudden silence, as if everyone was trying to hide without moving. Or were frozen with bowel-clenching, abject terror.
Blakeley felt someone behind him, and whirled around. Behind him stood a beautiful lady, her face in an expression of perfect serenity. She was dressed in a robe of some strange material, and towered over Blakeley. Blakely noticed the rings on her fingers. And the collar of blades around her throat.
The last thing he saw was the Lady's shadow speeding towards him, as if the sun was rising behind her at tremendous speed. It reached him...
After the screams had died away, some of the dabuses came to remove the gore from the area. It took a while.
Moral: The wise man asks about that which he doesn't understand.
or: Don't mess with the Lady or her dabuses.
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