Night never falls on Sigil, yet this night the gray haze of Sigil’s day faded into shadow. As the final steps of last patrons passed over an iron sewer grate in Sigil’s Merchant district, the grate began to move, to shift. A gray long-fingered hand reached out from under it. It had claws of yellow dripping with a sickly white liquid. From below a force pushed up on the grate and something snapped. The grate pushed away and the first ghoul rose from the dark depths below.
The ghoul pushed itself to its feet with a dexterity not normally seen in the undead. It stepped aside and another rose behind it. Two more rose behind those and more followed. Soon two dozen of the ghouls stood in the shadowy streets. Two more crawled up from the depths dressed in black swirling robes adorned in the silvery shifting patterns of the tormented dead. The other ghouls stood back as these two scanned the street. Seeing no one, one of them knelt and whispered down into the sewer.
A final figure rose silently from the depths of the sewer, wrapped in a cloak of gold and black. The Ghoul King’s eyes opened, shining blue light, and beheld the streets of sigil. The Ghoul King, Doresain, spoke in a whisper and somewhere a child cried out and died in the night.
Most of the ghouls dropped to all fours and raced across the street into the shadows, climbing up the walls of the nearby buildings as easily as spiders.
The Ghoul King, flanked by the two black-robed Ghoul Favored Ones, walked the streets as his small army danced in the shadows and across the rooftops. Few crossed paths with the dark contingent as it traveled from the Merchant’s district down to the Hive. Those that did never remembered seeing them passed, for such a memory was simply too horrible to hold.
Soon the Ghoul King stood in front of a building unlike the crumbling rotting shells that filled most of the Hive. This one was clean and large and strong. A small group stood outside. The deep rhythmic thump of music vibrated the ground under the Ghoul King’s feet. A massive ogre with a steel fist pushed away a would be troublemaker. The Ghoul King looked to the sign that hung above the double doors of the establishment: “The Three Wishes” it said in a swirl of glowing red and violet script.
The Ghoul King looked to the buildings adjacent to it and saw the red burning eyes of his servants, each of them powerful enough to destroy a city in the world of mortals. He smiled and returned his gaze back to the brothel.
Blood would spill this night. And Doresain would meet the Shieldbashers himself.