Everyone slides through Sigil sooner or later. But plenty of cutters call the Cage home, and it's their shops, trades, and peels that keep the jink flowing - and the bone-boxes flapping. A body's got to know who sells bogus goods, and who'll scrag him (or worse) just for the fun of it. 'Course, the trick is telling friend from foe. In Sigil, a fiery fiend ain't always a serpent, and a shining celestial ain't always a lamb.