There was once a man who owned several bridges.
These bridges connected very important routes into the city of opportunity.
As long as there was a way to cross the wicked seas that churned below, he could find his next place of dominance and rest – where he could remain unharmed.
Of course, it often takes a busy man to be dominant – and that he was.
In fact, he had his hands in all sorts of things – every trade you can imagine – and trailblazed just enough to remain ahead of a lot of his competition.
That was, until people started to show up at the bridges – people that involuntarily paid the price in order for them to be built in the first place. There were a few that begged to be allowed to cross, pleading for their safety, and the man felt obligated to let them through.
As his plate became overloaded, several more than he intended were able to get in – and a few of them weren’t very nice people.
These people wanted to destroy everything that the man had built. They threatened him, blackmailed him, and kept him endlessly jumping through hurdles in order to survive this bitter change of seasons.
So, the man decided to burn the bridges and let them fall into the sea below.
One by one, he planted the explosives and brought them down until every last one was gone.
And there he stood, smiling from ear to ear, thinking that he had foiled them yet again.
But there were a few things that the man didn’t take in consideration.
There was no turning back for him, the other side being more raging waters – and he would ultimately answer to someone or something – desperation, actually.
Because no matter how much you try to escape, Sigil, there’s always going to be someone that’s under the influence of desperation. These are the type of people that yearn for revenge to – it’s like a sharp pain at the pit of their stomach that they’ll do just about anything to stifle.
For as much as you have amassed, and for as elusive as you are, people will always find a way.
In your case, I believe you’re about, what, five deep now?
Five desperate souls just eager to ruin everything that you’ve ever done and everything that you’ve ever had, because the results of your scattered involvement here and there have resulted in… well, this.
Let’s face it, I don’t have much skin in the game. As far as I’m concerned, we might as well all just leave you alone, let you fly freely through your portals – but that’s not fun.
Between you and me or me and you, I don’t think you’ve got a whole lot of time left.
I know, that isn’t fun either.
So? Let’s break through all of that tension and open ourselves to our… imagination.
I think we can both say that your reality isn’t in the best shape, and that happens to the best of us, but we shouldn’t dwell on the inevitable, right?
Let’s go out there and put on a big show because… who knows? It might be your last.