There are many worlds, some of which have moved on while others are just being born, but one way or the other, your world is one of these. At the convergence of these worlds and somehow apart from them all is the City of Doors- Sigil. Centuries passed while the factions of the place struggled to impose their will upon the multi-verse, but the Faction War changed all of that and in a fortnight, the factions were mostly expelled; their relevance in the day to day affairs of the place greatly diminished. Unable to operate openly, a portion of the Harmonium remained behind, sequestered in the Great Armory, where they trained the next generation of planar Enforcers. With the assistance of the Knights of the Cage (Sons of Mercy whose moral guides were aligned closely to Harmonium thought) a small cadre of selected Primes began a training program to further both sect’s goals throughout the planes.
These new enforcers, called the Guardians of the Beams or derogatorily 'Gunslinger' for the weapons they carried, soon became the official law enforcement of The City of Doors. Obedient to neither faction but created from both philosophies, the Gunslingers were created to bridge the gap between all of the ‘good’ aligned factions and the established hierarchy in Sigil. The Gunslingers now answer to no one, but The Law and Sigil's appointed magistrates. Outside of the city, the Gunslingers travel like itinerant knights, dispensing justice and aiding in the preservation of life where they can while ultimately owing the majority of their time to the defense of Sigil, its citizens, and the beams that support the Spire. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Before all this, there was a door and your hand was reaching for it…You might have passed it a hundred times or perhaps this was the first, but one thing you were certain of, this specific door was different. Your first inclination was to run as fast and as far away as your feet and lungs would let you, but the horror quickly exchanged itself with a hungry curiosity to see what waited beyond. There were two things you were certain of. The first was that the door was the most ‘real’ thing you had ever seen and the second is what kept your hand away a moment longer…
Moving closer, your hand reaches out almost involuntarily, before pausing as soft light begins to coalesce on the upper panel. What was indecipherable before slowly becomes clear; a pale, silver form of writing that blurs and reforms, repeating itself several times in what appears to be different languages. The process takes only a moment but once you can clearly read what is written, you realize that your life will never be the same again.
It was simple and terrifying, inviting but cold. All that appeared was your name and two words: