Interlude, February 2010
The streets of Sigil sprawl before you. And behind you. And above! Sigil exists on a unique plane, on the inside of a hollow tube which is formed like the innertube of a tire. Smoke hangs in the air lazily, only moved when a gryphon glides past or one of the many flying carpets silently passes overhead.
Ghrynt has apparently been here before, he quickly finds a familiar ‘tout’, a local who is willing to show you around. After a long walk the tout, Jabreen, leads you into a comfortable-looking tavern. Inside, several githyanki smoke and drink here, intermixed with a few humans and even more monstrous races.
Over a few goblets of very thick wine, you await a contact who deals in information. A chant-broker.