<table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/fb/Erinmug.jpg)<br/><em>Factol Darkflame</em></td><td><strong>Name:</strong> Factol Erin Darkflame Montgomery<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Erin Montgomery's Quarters, Civic Festhall, Sigil<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Mid-morning<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Perrin, Alzeggra<br/><br/>The Factol consulted the emblem in her hand as she walked, her heels a crisp echo in the desolate halls. "Tomorrow will be much too late, I'm afraid. The body will leave our Festhall, and then it will be a matter of dealing with the Harmonium and the Dustmen. But don't be discouraged- we have enough to carry out our own investigation." Cuatha's emblem was tucked away into the shadowy sleeve of her robe with a small smile, still visible in the translucency of the enchanted fabric. "It seems Lady Da'nanin has taken a shining to you. By your leave, I'd like to hire you on for this special task. You will be my five senses in pursuing this killer. Would you like that?"<br/><br/>Through the guarded checkpoints she moved with Perrin and Alzeggra, bringing an effortless authority and renewed energy to those who served to protect the Festhall from its foes. "Regardless of your decision, I want you to indulge me. Come inside." A pair of narrow and towering doors, joined in the center by a long face of animate and sentient wood, marked the chambers of the Factol and her consort. At thirty-three years of age, Factol Darkflame was young for a Factol, young even compared to many who came to fill the halls and the pocketbooks of the Society of Sensation. She was one of the wealthiest women in Sigil, outshone by only select planar traders, and this was her abode.<br/><br/>A seam of light split the wooden sentry down the center, and the doors of the Factol's quarters opened. The Sanctum Sanctorum, the heart of the Festhall, lay beyond. It was a place of mystery. As she stepped into the first earthy chamber, Factol Darkflame slipped from her heels and continued barefoot across a carpet of living, dancing grasses. Flowers from a nearly forgotten world, with petals of corkscrew and noodle shapes fading from cyan to moonlight to coral in color, crowded around the base of a mother tree sculpted to the dimensions of the earthen walls or vice versa. Living motes of color bathed the chamber in light and imbued it with a palpable vitality, a swell of every living organ to perfect health. The Factol took a seat at the base of the sweet-scented tree and laid Cuatha's emblem there on a toughened root.<br/><br/>"Each time a body is discovered, the victim's recorder stone goes missing. At first, I suspected they were destroyed by whatever killed these Sensates. Now, it seems this is not the case. Some of those same stones have turned up at a shop here in Sigil. It is a place to start, surely. But tell me- what else do you have to go on?" The Factol's piercing green eyes put hooks into the Namers sharing the shade of her own private tree, and refused to let go. Some said that Erin Darkflame Montgomery was psionic; her opponents in the Hall of Speakers rumored at having their minds compromised, their innermost thoughts violated. Maybe it was just the intensity of the Factol's stare that gave rise to paranoia- she was a woman clothed in rumor, and certainly, not all of them could be true.</td></tr></tbody></table>