Dabus

Tall, slender, and looking like the riddles they speak, the dabus are feared by some to be the true masters of Sigil, the hidden genius of her being. For others they are nothing but slaves that maintain Sigil's mighty engines. Their thoughts literally fill the air when they pass, for the dabus's speech is illusion shaped into pictures that mortals can then reshape into sounds - the dabus communicate not by word, but by the complicated structures of the rebus. These are the ultimate in thought-pictures, where symbols are chosen for the sounds made in a language, and the sounds are strung together to form words.

The dabus never quite stand on the ground. They neither fly nor walk, but exist on the boundary between each, so they're immune to spells that affect the surface beneath them. Sigil is their sole habitat, which they constantly build, cannibalizing one part to construct another. It is known their homes are in substructures far beneath the city, but few have seen them. They don't care for visitors in their cramped workshops, and they mislead those who try to follow them home without permission.

The dabus claim to be organized into cells (if their rebuses are read correctly). Each cell has a duty in the city, though it is not tied to one place or skill. One day a member of a cell gathers the trash that blows out of the Great Bazaar. The next, it might be resetting cobbles near the Hive. Whatever guides them in their tasks, the dabus seem to always know what is expected of them.

Note: Dabus originally appeared in this form in the Planescape AD&D campaign setting from TSR. Their use here is for the purposes of providing context for the campaign only.