Plurality
The Eerie Echo
Location: Mechanus
Welcome to Plurality, cutter—where two become one. Here, individuality is not just frowned upon; it’s downright extinguished. In Plurality, the strength of numbers reigns supreme, and the pronoun “I” is as foreign as chaos in the gears. In plurality, everything is “We”.
The Many Over the One
In Plurality, there’s no room for selfishness. The guiding principle of this curious burg is simple: “The one is weak, the many are strong.” The concept of individuality is seen as a threat to the perfection of law, a disorderly blip in the grand design of Mechanus. To be part of the whole is to fulfil one’s true purpose, and to stand alone is to invite weakness and instability.
This philosophy isn’t just some high-minded cant, either. It’s lived out every day by the cutters of Plurality. The people here—mostly petitioners of identical twins and triplets who’ve long shed their previous lives—have embraced the collective mindset with a fanatical zeal. Everything is shared, from thoughts to meals, and the very notion of privacy is an alien concept.
Stepping into Plurality is like stepping into a three-dimensional echo. Everything here comes in multiples—pairs, trios, quartets—there’s never just one of anything. The buildings, while distinct in structure, mirror each other so closely that it’s easy to lose track of where you are. You’ll find yourself counting the windows or the cracks in the stone just to tell one building from another.
The inhabitants are no different. Imagine walking down a street where every group of cutters you pass looks exactly the same, speaks in the same tone, and carries the same expression. It’s enough to make even the most seasoned traveller’s skin crawl. And it’s not just the locals who suffer this fate; stay too long, and you’ll start to find yourself blending in—literally. Spend twenty-five turns of the gear here (and yes, some barmy sod actually counted) and you’ll start taking on the features of cutters you associate with. Your face, your voice, even your thoughts will begin to align with your companions. Whether this is a curse or a blessing depends on your view of identity. For some, it’s a release from the burden of self. For others, it’s a slow, creeping horror.
Who Rules: On paper, Plurality has no single ruler—after all, how could there be, in a place that so thoroughly rejects the notion of the individual? Instead, the town is governed by a council known as the Conclave. This body is made up of representatives from each of the major groups in town—the petitioners, the modrons, the few Guvners, and the Mathematicians. Decisions are made collectively, with every voice carrying equal weight. In theory, it’s the ultimate expression of the burg’s philosophy.
Who Really Rules: But here’s the rub: the Conclave is just a puppet. The real power lies with the Crowd, a mysterious force that seems to influence the thoughts and actions of the entire town. No one knows exactly what the Crowd is, or where it came from, or even who coined the term in the first place, but its influence is undeniable. It’s as if the very gears beneath the city have a will of their own, nudging the inhabitants toward ever-greater unity. Some say the Crowd is a manifestation of Mechanus itself, a sentient embodiment of the plane’s perfect order, but that doesn’t account for why there aren’t any other burgs like it. Others reckon it might be the doing of a clan of incarnates who have set up shop in the burg.
Plurality? Psssh. Sounds like a bad case of cranium rats to me, cutter.
—Turpental, a cynical tout from Sigil
Current Chant: There’s always talk in Plurality, but it’s not the usual kind of chant you hear in other burgs. Here, the gossip centres around the slow erosion of the self. Recently, there’s been a spate of cases where newcomers—visitors who hadn’t planned on staying long—find themselves unable to leave. It starts small: They lose track of time, forget their own names, and start to mimic the locals. Before long, they’ve become indistinguishable from the rest of the populace, their former selves buried beneath the weight of the collective.
Some say this is the work of the Crowd, actively absorbing outsiders into the fold. Others argue that it’s a natural consequence of living in such close proximity to the town’s powerful philosophy. Whatever the cause, it’s got travellers thinking twice before lingering too long in Plurality. There’s also talk of a secret group of rebels within the town—individuals who’ve somehow retained their sense of self despite the overwhelming pressure to conform. They’re said to meet in hidden corners of the city, using coded language and symbols to communicate without attracting the attention of the Crowd, whatever it is. Whether these rumours are true or just the product of paranoia is anyone’s guess, but it’s enough to keep the locals on edge.
Source: Center of All and Jon Winter-Holt
