Natives of Sigil tend to think of any city smaller than theirs as a "burg," which makes Glorium a burg by most planar standards. It's a small assortment of longhouses and worksheds tucked along the shores of a deep fjord, with mountains on each side that seem to rise half as high as the spire itself. There's a single perilous path down through the cliffs, but most cutters prefer to sail into Glorium by the sea.
The town's got a temporary look to it, more like the winter camp of wandering raiders than a permanent settlement. That suits the locals just fine, since they don't really want that many visitors. Glorium is ruled by a human ranger named Flatnose Grim, who typifies both Glorium and its people. He's a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested basher of great strength, loyal to a fault (and moody to a fault, as well). His force of muscle and will grants him the rocklike devotion of his people, so it's best not to cross him.
More and more planars have been visiting Glorium lately, especially members of the Fated faction. They've offered to establish a stronghold (full of their own bashers, of course) to help defend the town. Flatnose Grim's told them to pike it. He's an Indep, and he knows that once the Fated sink their hooks in a place, they're harder to get out than fleas.
Actually, two different gates lead into nearby Ysgard. The first is a maelstrom found at the mouth of the fjord, large enough to allow ships to sail into the chaotic realms of that plane. This entrance, called the Watergate, reverses itself twice a day, so a body who knows the local tides can use it to sail back out of Ysgard.
The other gate is an entrance to fabled Yggdrasil itself, found in a cavern in the mountains above town. Sods who come looking for this gate'd better have hold of a reliable map. A number of other caverns in the mountains lead to realms that run deep below the surface of the Outlands, which means there are plenty of places for the Clueless to get lost.
What the natives of Glorium lack in number, they make up in volume. They're a loud, proud people (humans, mostly), and they're strongly influenced by the Ysgardian Norse Pantheon in their attitudes and appearance. Strangers are given the peery eye until they prove themselves, slights are easily taken, and combat breaks out often. Fact is, a berk who rattles his bone-box the wrong way will probably end up with a fight on his hands. These kinds of battles go on until first blood is spilled (and it usually comes from a visitor).
In the surrounding hills and mountains, there is an equally small community of bariaur, who patrol the region and keep most of the nastier creatures at bay. A few bariaur probably wouldn't mind letting the odd beholder slip into town, though - relationships with the residents of Glorium are strained at best.
These bariaur are ruled by Jek Thanol, an ancient high-up with large horns and a jeweled eye patch. Local legend has it that he lost the eye in combat with Grim and, as a result, the two ain't exactly close cutters.