Factol Leaders

[Flession]

Name: Alishon Nilesia
Gender: Female
Race: Tiefling
Class: Wizard
Age: 19
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Height: 5'9"


Alison Nilesia, the new factol of the Mercykillers, is quite mad and more than a little dangerous. Only 19 years old, the girl - part human and part something-more-fiendish.

The Factol was born in the Prison she now commands, the daughter of a thief who died during childbirth. She grew up in the Prison under the care of a ward matron, learning the chapter and verse of every law in Sigil - as well as the Red Death's punishment for each infraction. After the mysterious death of her surrogate mother, Nilesia tried to join the faction as a full-fledged member, but Factol Mallin stubbornly refused to allow an eight-year-old child to become a Mercykiller. years later, though, her persistence paid off she was allowed to join the faction at the age of 11. The child's convictions were preternaturally strong; nothing shook her beliefs. Detractors tried to have her expelled from the faction, but Nilesia merely smiled and bided her time. Before long, her excellent organizational skills acquired her the post of Justice Dispenser, where she wrote up the duties and orders for all the Mercykillers in the faction. Coincidently, most of her vocal detractors found themselves with assignments that cost them their lives, and the rest soon learned to keep their mouths shut. Not long afterwards, then-factol Mallin took ill with a mysterious disease that ended his life. By this time, most of Nilesia's detractors were in unofficial exile on Acheron, out of the tiefling's sight, and without much in the way of opposition she naturally took the post of Factol.

Nilesia’s talents lie in organization and coordination. She devotes nearly 24 hours of every day to planning and implementing her schemes. In the two months since she became factol, she’s approved the punishment of thousands of inmates at the Prison, the faction’s headquarters. The intensely driven young woman is so obsessed with justice that she makes many other Mercykillers’ devotion seem like a passing interest. Restless and high-strung, she sleeps perhaps 15 minutes out of every four hours. Her body’s used to this relentless pace, and 10 of her closest Mercykillers have also adapted to this routine.

While some within the faction look on Nilesia's rapid advance with envy, most Mercykillers take pride in her accomplishment. After all, she was raised by the faction and it was the Mercykiller philosophy that shaped her into the powerful woman she is today. Indeed, most of the faction is fanatically loyal to Nilesia, and at any given time she is accompanied by twenty to thirty faction members, all of whom would gladly give their lives if the Factol but requested it.

[Flession]

Name: Beringe(?)
Gender: Most Likely Male
Race: Likely a Human
Class: Fighter/Rogue
Age: Mid 30s(?)
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Height: 6'0"


Though he’d never admit it, Beringe is as much of a higher-up as the Anarchists have. Because he’s a smooth talker and a good planner, he leads several cells of members. He covers his face most times, seldom revealing much more than his bulbous nose and wild eyes. When he carries an anarchist symbol, its usually emblazoned on his shield like a crest. Of all the cell leaders, Beringe is one of the most successful and influential. Of course, no one knows his real name except himself. To everyone else he meets, he uses assumed names and identities - you can never be too careful, he says, and his paranoia borders on the psychotic. Or maybe that's a cover for his real personality.

Part of the reason Beringe is so influential is that he's recruited so much of the faction himself. He often helps out bubbers, or just those down on their luck by giving taking them to the local tavern and buying them a bite to eat. Then, he carefully introduces the idea that the factions are corrupt, or just uncaring. Should the potential recruit show some promising sentiments, Beringe then still pretends to not be a member, but claims to "know someone" that thinks the same way.

His ultimate motivation: to get rid of all forms of the factions, because they are all fascists' that use philosophy to get whatever they want.

[Flession]

Name: Darius the Veyl
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Wizard
Age: Mid 30s
Alignment: Neutral Good
Height: 5'5"


Darius the Veyl currently serves as Factol of the Sign of One. This olive-skinned woman has soft gray eyes and a flawless complexion. Her vague, unfocused demeanor matches her soft appearance, yet somehow she holds a body’s attention. Something in the fleeting moments of steadiness in her gaze or in the deliberate grace of her movements commands respect. Darius favors garb of beige, ecru, or cream, generally donning tunic, kilt, and many-strapped sandals beneath the silken folds of her balandrana. Her most notable idiosyncrasy is the wimple covering her hair and neck: No one ever sees the Veyl without it.

She was born in the Outlands realm Tir na Og, on the res of the vast sea her people, the Esprene, call Feyliriel. The daughter of a philosophical wizard, Darius learned metaphysics at her father’s knee almost before she could rattle her bone-box. Exposed to rationalism, hedonism, stoicism, mysticism, solipsism, existentialism, and other systems of thought from an early age, Darius became cynical toward intellectual exercise. Her contempt for the mental realm changed when her father introduced her to spell power: Clearly, thought properly channeled could accomplish a lot!

Darius specialized in divination, earning the title “The Veyl,” an epithet bestowed by the Esprene upon one who dispenses wise advice. She might have remained forever in her father’s house, studying magic and counseling bashers on the horns of dilemmas, but for the arrival of the assassin Toddy. Toddy had just accepted (under duress) an assignment from the fiend Za’rafas to kill a wanderer named Mason. The tanar’ri’s superiors had caught the chant that Mason could successfully block an Outlands raid they were planning. They wanted him out of the picture. Thing was, Mason had pulled Toddy out of lethal scrapes twice. The assassin wanted to spare his friend; if he took his time, might his employer perish in the raid? Then Toddy need never finish his work. ’Course, if Za’rafas survived, Toddy’d take his friend‘s place in the dead-book! What did Darins advise?

The Veyl did far more than advise. After scrutinizing the immediate future, she recommended that Toddy lie low: Za’rafas would die of wounds received in battle. Then she sought out Mason. One meeting with the roving warrior showed her that his flair for diplomacy, combined with his talent in tactics and strategy, would give him what he needed to lead Outlands locals in defense against the tanar’ri. Putting down the raid quickly didn’t entirely prevent warfare, or the destruction that comes with it: some renegade tanar’ri razed a few Outlands burgs before their defeat. Welbey, Darius’s family home, numbered among the ravaged hamlets that escaped death, but her father and the other village folk did not. With nothing left of her former life, Darius chose to relocate to Sigil. After a few years of faction membership, and a staggering amount of her predictions coming true she ascended to the ranks of Factol. Her primary goal for the faction seems a noble one: popularizing the Sign of One’s tolerance for diversity throughout society while enhancing the emphatic abilities of the faction’s members. ’Course, she agrees that her faction deserves more respect, so she authored the scheme to revive a dead god.

Thing is, she’s not certain Aoskar’s the better candidate. Sure, the Signers could handle the opposition they’d receive when the Athar picked up the chant. Shes not even worried about the Lost learning the dark of her plan. Aoskar’s revival would require the destruction of the Athar’s magical tree, the Bois Verdurous. See, what concerns Darius is that the Lady of Pain booted Aoskar out of Sigil. Some say this god of portals got so popular even the Dabus worshiped him, and others say folks started revering the Lady as one of his aspects!

Reviving an enemy of the Lady of Pain just ain’t a healthy idea.

[Flession]

Name: Erin "Darkflame" Montgomery
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Rogue/Cleric
Age: Mid 30s
Alignment: Lawful Good
Height: 5'9"


Statuesque, smart, and sensual, Erin "Darkflame" Montgomery is no helpless doxy. She's a complete person, and being a woman hasn't made her any less capable of dealing with the seductions, intrigues, intellectualism, and dangers of Sigil. Though she's no more than average height, the combination of inner fire, lively green eyes, and short auburn hair make her more than unforgettable. Yet for one so striking, she shows little of the vanity folks associate with good looks.

At 33 years of age, Erin Montgomery's seen and done more than planars three times her senior. While growing up in the tiny village of Grim's Head, out on the Outlands in Tir na Og, her family discovered her mind-talent for healing others. At the tender age of 10, she became a novitiate to Diancecht, the Celtic goddess of healing. By 13 she was a full fledged priestess, committed to the impartial healing of all injured, friend or foe. And when a Blood War raid ran rampant through Tir na Og a few years later, Montgomery gave her all to help heal the wounded. Unfortunately, she had nothing left to give when the tanar’ri captain Za’rafas and a few of his fellows collapsed before her. Most of the fiends died, but a few made it back to the Abyss to report their woe. As it turned out, Za’rafas was a favorite of a powerful Abyssal Lord, and the fiend blamed Montgomery for the captain’s death. He began to send assassins after her: how she’s eluded them thus far, none will say.

At 17, Montgomery left Tir na Og, hoping to spare her family and friends from any more tanar’ri trouble. For the next decade she wandered almost exclusively from world to world on the Prime Material Plane. She was still young enough to want to lead a boisterous life - something she’d never been able to do as a priestess back in Tir na Og. So she joined a decadent group called the Pax Imperica, mesmerized by its spectacle, by the ease with which they conducted pleasure and life. She developed an appreciation for fine wines and foods and fostered a growing desire for ever more prurient entertainment.

Cuatha Da’nanin was a slave in the royal court, of which Montgomery was a favored - and frequent - guest. Her jaded eyes liked what she saw: a tall, finely muscled body combining the best features of elf and human parentage. His eyes, which first caught her attention, were a startling green - so much like her own that she thought she saw herself every time she looked at Da’nanin. But the image those eyes reflected back was an ugly one: proud. sadistic, self-serving, and arrogant.

Montgomery still had the grace to feel shame each time she looked at Da'nanin, and for a while she avoided him. Then one dayhis name was called for the nightly entertainment known as the Spit, a circus of atrocity that the half-elf wasn't likely to survive.

Though she’d witnessed - and even participated in the horrors of the Spit many times before, Montgomery had no such desire that night. She secretly freed Da’nanin and used a gate key to jump to Sigil; they’ve been a pair ever since. ‘Course, Montgomery’s need for sensation couldn't entirely be quelled, only channeled, and she joined the Sensates a year after entering the Cage. She knows that hedonism’s destroyed more than one faction member and, as factol, she’s tried to steer the Sensates toward more cerebral pursuits, rather than immediate gratification at whatever cost.

Da’nanin joined the faction, too, as Montgomery’s consort; he helped her rapid rise to power and now acts as her right-hand blood. The half-elf‘s interested in all manner of visitors, especially adventurers and travelers from strange lands - even the Clueless are likely to receive a reception from him that’s quite warm by Cager standards.

[Flession]

Name: Rhys
Gender: Female
Race: Tiefling
Class: Monk/Sorcerer
Age: Mid 50s
Alignment: True Neutral
Height: 5'11"

Rhys, Factol of the Transcendent Order, is one of the Cage's more enigmatic leaders. A tiefling, Rhys grew up in the Lower Ward of Sigil, where she raised by her mother, a woman named Biana. Rhys never knew who (or what) her father was, a secret her mother closely guarded. Though Biana was by all accounts an honest - if withdrawn - woman, Rhys' fiendish nature exerted itself, and she turned to a life of crime.

Rhys' appearance made her stand out. Unlike many tieflings, whose heritage is somehow concealable, Rhys' tiefling traits are quite obvious. Though she is darkly beautiful, below her knees her legs become like those of a goat, and her feet are cloven hooves. Her ears have long points, like an exaggerated drawing of an elf. She has a long reptilian tail, and her torso has shell-like plates, giving her a partial carapace.

Unable to hide her appearance or blend in, she had to learn to fight to survive in the criminal world, and admiring the quick, decisive, and physical bent of the Ciphers, she joined up to further her abilities. When she joined, she hadn't planned on ever being anything more than a namer, but once within the Order's ranks, she found drawn to their philosophy, and soon she was spending all of her time in the Great Gymnasium, where she trained extensively with the Cadence Dancers. As she honed her body and brought herself into harmony with the multiverse, Rhys found her alignment shifting to True Neutral, as all Cadence Dancers eventually do.

Now factol of the Transcendent Order, Rhys is the close to achieving perfect harmony. She seems to almost vibrate on a metaphysical level, and her every action is quick, rhythmic, and seems perfectly natural - her every motion is the perfect action for the perfect moment. Never talkative, she now seems aloof and enigmatic, rarely speaking. However, she does spend a lot of time in the Gymnasium, and even gives advice to others training, though this advice is always short, concise, and accurate.

She's also become one of the greatest diplomats in Sigil. Her internal harmony seems to allows her to always find the best compromise for any situation, and it's generally agreed that the factions wouldn't get along half as well without her. In the Hall of Speakers, she seems to lend stability and understanding among the others without even trying. While many of the other Factols prove difficult to reach, Rhys remains accessible. The Ciphers have no true hierarchy to prevent those of "lower rank- from speaking to the Factol, and she never bothers with personal guards when she travels in public. 'Course, just because Rhys makes herself equally available to all, don't think finding her is easy; she spends her time training, working on behalf of the faction, or just acting however the multiverse pulls her.

[Flession]

Name: Karan
Gender: Male
ecaR: Githzerai
lCass: Barbarian
Gae: Mid 50s
mentAlign: Bob
HiEGHt: 6'3"

Karan ain’t the typical Factol. Fact is, he’s not Factol all the time - only when he wants to be. See, when he gets tired of the job, he stops for a while - he quits two or three times a day, sometimes. So far, he keeps coming back to the job, ’cause it suits him most of the time

The factol’s appearance changes occasionally, within certain parameters. He’s a Githzerai - that never changes. He generally wears a beard and a topknot, but these get longer or shorter, messier or neater, depending on the factors whim. His clothes usually look tattered, and he tends toward a disheveled appearance. The factol also has a unique ability - leastwise a body’d hope it’s unique. This power resembles the wizard spell Creation; Karan doesn’t use it very often, and, when he does, he hides it. His ability lets him call up pure chaos as raw material for his creations, rather than reaching into the Demiplane of Shadow as wizards do.

No one really knows Karans history, probably because Karan himself doesn't remember it. The only thing one can assume is that he was either always this way, or some event caused his brain to turn into a jumbled mess that made him the way he is today.

Since Xaositects live for the moment, they respect someone that has good ideas, though they define "good ideas" in terms of chaos, disorder, unexpectedness, and how much fun it would be to do it. Karan seems to come up with a lot of good ideas, and so he always has a crowd of Xaositects following him around, waiting for him to have one of his ideas and following his lead. See, he's not really your typical factol. The Xaositects don't have any real structure, and Karan doesn't really have any underlings or give out any orders. He just walks the street, engaging in chaos whenever possible. Of course, that's exactly what the Chaosmen look for in a factol, so Karan seems to be Factol by general consent. Sometimes he steps down, because it wouldn't serve a faction like the Xaositects to always have the same factol, but he always ends up taking the job back, and whoever assumed it in his absence always steps down whenever Karan is ready to return to his old position.

Of course, all this isn't to say he completely ignores typical factol duties. In particular, he rarely misses sessions at the Hall of Speakers, where he delights in proposing laws that are often illogical or completely nonsensical. Of course, he proposes laws that make perfect sense too, which only make the lawful factions that much more suspicious, and the wordings of which are often the most closely scrutinized.

Karan can come off as a surly basher, a brave cutter, or the barmiest of the barmy. It depends on his mood, as mercurial as the winds of Limbo. One thing, though: he’s got a magnetism about him. Something that compels folks to follow him. He’ll turn this magnetism to intimidation when simple persuasion fails him. Still, faction members clearly have a few reasons for letting Karan lead them. For one, he wants to do it, and not many others want the headache of governing the Chaosmen for longer than a day or so. Also, Karan’s about as chaotic as they come, and other Xaositects respect that. Finally, the charismatic Factol has some good ideas. As surprising as it sounds about a Xaositect. Karan is a great leader - he just doesn’t necessarily lead others to great things.

Folks usually notice that Karan has a short attention span. He leaps from topic to topic without hesitation. He’ll talk normally for a bit, then break into babble, then launch into a speech that sounds lie it should be understandable, but isn’t. He’s a Unique one, Karan is, just like every member of his faction.