Planescape
FACTION INFORMATION
Depending on who a body asks, he'll be told that the factions are the lifeblood of the planes ... or the worst plague that's ever befallen them. 'Course, it's not like anyone can remember a time when there were no factions. Most of the groups that exist today are just a thousand years old or younger, but other factions were around before that time as well. The bands weren't always so organized, either, and there used to be a good deal more of them -- four dozen or so, all bickering and brawling. It was the Lady of Pain herself who eventually forced the factions to limit their number to 15, in an event called the Great Upheaval that took place over 600 years ago.
Each faction looks for the meaning of life, the path to power, or the dark of the planes. In short, they all seek truth.
Faction strength is at its peak in the City of Doors. Fact is, most berks'd say the factions hold the reins of power in Sigil. Sure, everybody's beholden to the Lady, but the real day-to-day clout is in the hands of the factions. Many of the factions wield real authority -- the Harmonium catches criminals, the Fraternity of Order tries court cases, the Mercykillers run the Prison, the Fated collect taxes, the Signers preside over the Council of Speakers, and Dustmen oversee the Mortuary, and so on. For some factions, though, their importance is self-imposed. For example, the Athar keep a close eye on priests and temples, the Believers of the Source try to keep the peace, and the Bleak Cabal treat the sick and barmy. But official or not, all factions play important roles.
Once a body leaves the Cage, the significance of any single faction ranges from moderate to little or none. In some places, faction membership means nothing; power and influence are measured in different coin.
Joining a faction is usually fairly easy. Most of the time, a sod's just got to show up at the right place, flash a bit of jink, and put forth the right attitude. It never hurts to be sponsored by a full-time member of the faction, either.
All new members are called namers, and most factioneers remain namers all their lives. That's because they don't get involved in their faction's administration -- or its intrigue. Namers proudly wear the group's symbols, but few would give their lives for the cause. And that's fine -- lots of folks owe their allegiance to a faction without giving it all their time.
Those namers who do prove themselves to be particularly devoted to the cause might be promoted to the rank of factotum. Factotums are full-time faction members who devote all their time to the administration and advancement of the group. They run messages back and forth, escort faction guests around Sigil, and fill other positions of low responsibility. They look upon their membership as a calling, an occupation that fills their entire lives. Truth is, factotums think of themselves as the ones who really get the faction's work done.
The high-ups of the factions are called factors. These bloods have positions of great responsibility, but they also wield a good dea of authority within the faction and its purview. the only member higher in rank is the factol, the leader of the faction. It's interesting to note that factors and factols are sometimes, but not always, the most devout believers or the most profound thinkers in their factions. Other times, they're just the most capable leaders or even simply the most popular. It's difficult to focus on the dogma of the faction and maintain the administration of so large a group at the same time.
Faction membership has its rewards and restrictions. Those completely devoted to their group's philosophy gain certain abilities, proving again that the planes are fueled by belief. If a factioneer ever loses her convictions, she loses the special abilities -- even if she is still technically a member of the faction. See, the power ain't in the name; it's in the faith. That's something that eludes a good many berks. Some of them just pretend to have the special abilities of their factions, hoping to conceal their deep-rooted lack of faith.
For the most part, the doctrines of the various factions are mutually exclusive, but not necessarily diametrically opposed. A basher can cherish the tenets of one faction with complete sincerity, yet still sympathize with the philosophies of another. That's why certain factions ally with one another -- they can see merit in similar credos. 'Course, sympathy only goes so far. A body can't actually belong to two factions at the same time (well, the Anarchists can, but they're a special case.)
It's possible to change faction membership, but it doesn't happen very often. For one thing, most people don't have a dramatic change of heart when it comes to their basic beliefs. What's more, the factions -- as organized groups with agendas and enemies -- don't take quitters lightly. Faction membership is extremely important, and turning stag is dangerous. No faction (as an entity) likes to suffer such a betrayal, and no factioneer (as an individual) liks being made to feel like a leatherhead for trusting and confiding in someone thought to be a kindred spirit.
The bad feelings hold across the board. Even such free-wheelers as Indeps and Xaositects frown upon those who switch allegiances, though all a sod usually earns from them is scorn. The Harmonium, on the other hand, scrags turncoats and hauls them into the City Court, hoping to see them sentenced to death for their "treachery." The other factions fall somewhere in between.
But a basher's problems don't stop when he quits his group. If he then tries to join another faction, he often hits the blinds. See, the new bunch is likely to worry that the berk's not reliable. If he hipped his last faction, why won't he do the same to them? A quitter who wants to sign up with a new faction needs to have a silver tongue, a well-respected sponsor, and a lot of garnish.
Anyone who succeeds in switching from one faction to another gains the new group's abilities and restrictions -- and loses those of the old group.
Not everyone joins a faction. They don't feel the need to waste their time with endless debates of philosophy or bureaucratic intrigues. They forfeit the connections, the camaraderie, and the protection, but they avoid all the bother.
A very rare few believe in what a faction stands for, but don't belong to the actual group. They see no reason to saddle themselves with a needless organization just so they can believe what they already know to be true.
The problem is that these berks are likely to run into the blinds when they visit Sigil, because the Cage is run by the factions. Most factioneers won't trust a berk who isn't willing to take some sort of public stand, even if it's in opposition to their own beliefs.
