"Well, it might induce you or your bodyguard to think I'm here to murder you even though I just said I'm not, you see. Because of. Historical reasons." 

...

"Well, will it also cause me to think that you are probably Lawful and can be relied on not to make false promises of nonmurder?"

Oh. Guy who was qualified to be the cleric of two entirely different gods is very wise. On reflection this makes perfect sense.

"I don't actually know if I'm Lawful, coulda been Neutral Evil all my life and never been able to tell the difference, but - probably? - right, so, Rakek. You'd've seen me in the, you know, massive black armor with the Iron Script all carved on it and the scorpion whip and all that." It made him look a lot bigger; he's actually slightly less tall than the average human. 

"I appreciate that you are not planning to murder me. Were you - also dropped?"

"Yeah. Changes some stuff about a man's worldview real fast, that." 

"It does that, yes. But differently for different people, among those I've encountered. I had a suicide, a deserter, some who integrated acceptably with martial units... and myself, of course."

"A suicide? Do they have a deathw- that was a stupid sentence. I suppose I am a deserter too, arguably, but technically my charter said to obey the nearest priest of Asmodeus and he'd already lost his spells when he surrendered. Didn't take any of my gear, even." All his gear was army property, after all, and also it's easier to pass as just some guy if you aren't carrying anything magic. 

"I think you were more of a strike team... or not so much a team... than a soldier, so I would not be inclined to call you a deserter. What did you go on to do that you now find yourself in Westcrown?"

getting a good grade in mephistophelean technicallys, something that is now frowned upon to want, 

"Yeah, that tracks. Basically nothing, I've been hanging around the docks moving heavy objects for coppers. Not much else I'm qualified to do that isn't, uh, either illegal or probably anathema to Iomedae or both." 

"...do I remember incorrectly that you were also a sorcerer?"

"Yep. Little shapeshifting, a shield, some battlefield crowd control, not so lucky I got anything wizards make money at." Dry half-smile. "I could, I suppose, try to sell to the dock merchants the ability to lengthen my arms and lift heavy objects from five feet further away." 

"- I suppose that would be awkward to sell, yes. I'm - glad you found something that isn't anathema to Iomedae - does that concern you in general when you aren't talking to Her people?"

"... ye...s?" 

Oh, this is a test question. He is supposed to explain that answer. How does he put this without sounding like an absolutely pathetic child. 

"I do not as a rule care to pretend to follow rules. Either they are the correct ones to be following or they are not, and - " 

and I thought my god loved me

" - well, Iomedae apparently only drops her priests if they actually do their jobs wrong instead of just if they stop being useful, judging by the girl with the speech, which... you of all people I am hoping might understand why I find that very appealing all of a sudden, yes?" 

"Yes. I understand. You -

Iomedae is having a busy and expensive year. I don't know if She can be for anyone else what She is for me."

Ah yes there's the blazing envy again. Ugh. Pathetic. Has he seriously not learned the lesson about getting strength from elsewhere, come on. 

Deep internal breaths. Sound like an adult who is normal about this. 

"Understandable. I was... not really using the circles for anything Iomedae probably wants." She is supposedly the general of the armies of Heaven but for some reason this does not translate to any glorious bloody conquest of anything in real life. Theoretically cleric magic can do other things, he's heard, but probably not other thing's he's good at. "But She is still the one who deserves to set the rules right now, whether she gives me power about it or no. And if I ask a paladin what I should do with myself, I rather expect them to say I should politely turn myself in for execution for approximately every crime, but I thought you might have... more useful... advice." 

"- there was a general amnesty, and the paladins who are operating here are keeping that in mind as featuring in their mandate. I'm not sure they'd have anything to say that would - resonate - but unless you have been doing substantial crimes since then I don't think they would ask you to turn yourself in."

Fascinated blinking. "I haven't, no, but - huh, you really don't think they'd make an exception?" He would absolutely not believe anyone else who said this except maybe the literal Queen. "Kind of figured it'd be, you know, oh well obviously we just meant amnesty for normal crimes, like stabbing your neighbor over a goat, not--" it would probably be breathtakingly stupid to say an actual sentence like forty years of annually lighting a dozen kids on fire for blessings to be better at killing paladins fast enough for a Malediction to take in an open battlefield out loud in a temple-- "me." 

"If you would like I can ask one for confidentiality and inquire? Not while you're still here. I have certainly not been dissuaded from believing that it applies to me."

Confidentiality. Which Blai clearly sincerely expects them to stick to, in like, a normal non-Mephistophelean way that normal people who don't have archmage cunning could possibly not be immediately wildly inconvenienced by! What a concept! He loves it. 

Wait. Help. How do you reward people for doing you large favors when they are clerics of Iomedae. He has spent the last year carefully replacing the instinct to gift people the charred ashes of their enemies with buying them beer at dockside taverns and both of these strategies seem deeply inapplicable in this case. 

"...yes," he settles on after several seconds of looking wrongfooted and bewildered, and then, uncertainly, after rifling around in his brain for anything even slightly applicable and not obviously horrifying, "...... hadregashya?" 

That was not even slightly Taldane. Why. 

"Hadre...what?"

"I am not a linguist but literally 'Hadregash bless you', I think? Goblin god of tribal unity. ... Complimentary." 

It means thank you, idiomatically, but he'd generally only ever heard that used in deeply hurtful ways and so it got tossed in the linguistic garbage can along with many other Chelish phrases one is clearly not supposed to use anymore. 

"Oh. Thank you." Blai didn't get the memo. "If you want to try to be a cleric again it doesn't have to be Iomedae. Her church encourages relying on other gods where their interests overlap. I didn't even know it was Her right away, I tried a key first."

Snort. "I would be an astoundingly poor cleric of Abadar in particular but your point is in general taken. I'm not even sure I do want to be a cleric again, but- hm. Is there some way to get a list of gods Iomedae's interests overlap with?" 

"I would also be a terrible Abadaran but I think that two of the three circles must have been - free - so it might have been the kind of thing that moved Him, hypothetically. She has common cause with all of the Good gods, Her church banks with Abadar, and I would expect Iomedaeans in general to work with any Neutral god's cleric in the same way they'd work with an irreligious wizard, whenever the spells were aimed at the Good and not deployed in a way that violated Her commitments."