“When iron ore is brought to the foundry, it is simple rock. In its natural state, iron is disordered, chaotic, useless. We must smelt the ore at terrifically high temperatures, melting it down and mixing it with powdered coal to separate steel from slag. Then we must pour the iron into molds and allow it to cool. Now it is true iron, but it is lacking in useful form. We must heat the metal again, and now the smith begins to shape the steel. Only after hours of sweat and effort and careful heating and cooling can the simplest forms (a horseshoe, a nail, a bowl, a buckle) be coaxed out of unyielding steel. And many smiths would stop there, and be content. But to create a true masterwork, an experienced smith must continue to work the steel, folding it over and pounding it flat with the hammer, again and again, a thousand or ten-thousand times, until the steel has taken on a strength and subtle suppleness that rivals or exceeds that of any other substance. It is from this steel that the arms and armor of great heroes are forged; with such steel, it may honestly be asked whether the heroes wield the steel, or the steel wields the heroes. But recall that even the most magnificent of swords started out as raw rock. I should think that the metaphor needs no further explication.”
—Excerpt from Destiny of Being, a treatise in three volumes by Factol Ambar Vergrove of the Believers of the Source
Four heroes are resolved to transcend the slums and depravity of Sigil and ascend into the silver heavens. They would shed their mortal forms and walk among the gods—not as beggars or servitors or petitioners, but as equals. However, the refining processes by which their crude souls might be purified into divine essence are lengthy and dangerous and dubious, with no guarantee of success. Undaunted, the heroes set out to make the multiverse their bitch.
The Peace of Bones campaign assumes that the idiotic Faction War was thwarted before it could ruin Sigil. It also assumes that the end of the Blood War is a very recent occurrence (rather than set sixty years in the past, as the Manual of the Planes would have it), and that time in Planescape is contemporaneous with the real world (i.e., that about fifteen years have passed since the events described in most of the books published in the mid 1990s). It also assumes that Sigil is still the greatest metropolis in the multiverse with many millions of inhabitants coexisting in a grand dance of barely-contained chaos, rather than being a piddly little podunk town of 250,000 inhabitants as stated by the Manual of the Planes. It also assumes that radical overhauls of reality are possible, and are contingent upon belief in the Faith Mines (i.e., the Prime Material planes). Thus, it is only recently that planar travelers gazed through portals and saw the Astral Plane reconfigured into an infinite silver sea. In keeping with this mutability, it is entirely possible that the physical and social geography of the planes and of Sigil itself can be reconfigured in accordance with the whims of mortal faith—and in accordance with upcoming WoTC publications on the city of Sigil, provided they’re not bullcrap.