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The Etchers (The Artists of Decay)
The Etchers, led by Hicest Corpus (Planar / female succubus / thief 9 / Doomguard / CE) fancy themselves as artists. In the bowels of the Lower Ward they have a studio where they paint with acid and tattoo with poison onto a canvass of living flesh - more often than not, their own. Then they sit back and watch the world decay.
Painful though it may seem, entropic body art's becoming all the rage in the cutthroat world of Sigil fashion, especially with the fiends, who'll do anything for a bit of corruption. 'Course, the fact that poison don't affect them might have something to do with it - there's been many a fatality amongst trendy young Sinkers who've asked for a toxic tattoo they just couldn't survive with.
Still, if you're a tiefling with a hardy constitution (and a sick imagination) or a veteran fiend from the Blood War with a few days leave and a pocket full of the shiny stuff, drop by the Parlour Noxious and let Hicest ask "What's your poison, cutter?"
The Sign of Zero
It ain't apparent where these bloods first surfaced, nor if they're deliberately parodying the Signers with their philosophy. Well, whatever it started out as, it's become a deadly serious business now. Most Prime worlds have a story of some quaint old carpenter or painter who wanted something so bad that one of his creations came to life. That's probably where the wizard Nolzur got the idea for his magical pigments the Sensates are always so willing to pay good jink for.
Anyway, Trovik Negatus (Planar / male githyanki / wizard 8 / Doomguard / NE) has a rather different knack. He's discovered that he can do just the reverse: Think hard enough about something and it just vanishes! According to cutters close to him, this ability works just like that the Signers have for 'imagining' things - he can't do it all that often (thankfully!) and the more complex the object, the harder it is for him to just will it away. It's also lucky that Trovik's a subscriber to the Doomguard notion that entropy's right on course, so he ain't particularly keen to speed it along with his powers. Though, of course, he ain't averse to a bit of garnish to send something away that a paying customer doesn't want it cluttering up his particular part of the Multiverse.
Nobody really knows what happens to the items which get lost in this way. It's been suggested they're annihilated as if hit by a disintegrate spell, or maybe they're shunted into the Thuldanian junkyards in Acheron. Trovik himself fancies himself as an 'entropic conjurer', in that he sends things away rather than summoning them to himself. Along those lines, he's devised a number of spells which do just that, and he's created a set of pigments which work in just the opposite way to Nolzur's (funnily enough, the Sensates ain't interested in 'em!)
The Speakers of All
This is a strange bunch of Sinkers, for sure. So strange, in fact, that they're often mistaken for Xaosmen. That's because they're usually found in deep trances, muttering words that simply sound like gibberish. "What's that got to do with entropy?" you're asking? Well...
The founder of the Speakers of All is a prime priest cutter by the name of Yaveh (Prime / female half-elf / priest 8 / Doomguard / NG). She's from an obscure religious sect of a power who's name she long ago forgot. These bashers believe that the true powers of the Multiverse have one million and one names, and when all of these names have been spoken in worshipful prayer, the Multiverse will come to a close.
Well, Yaveh happened across Sigil some years ago, and the Sinkers heard of her beliefs. Intrigued, they persuaded her to join the faction, promising a stream of factioneers to support her sect's beliefs. Ever since then, in a deep dark room of the Armoury, the Speakers of All have sat, murmuring prayers to any and all names of powers that they come across. When seen outside the Armoury, these sods are usually murmuring names and prayers uner their breath, and don't seem able to focus on anything else quite properly.
There's a considerable information-gathering network involved too. Sinker factioneers have been seen scouring libraries and planar burgs, trying to learn names of long-forgotten powers, just in case one of those is one of the one million and one. Oracles and psychics have been consulted, and temples raided for their holy texts. The Sinkers seem keen on this project; any lead they can find to hasten the end of the Multiverse and bring Entropy to all things is well worth the effort, the reckon.
Copyright 1997 by Jon Winter, thanks also to Ian Watson