Kyeo doesn't remember enough of the fight to know what happened, and his head is killing him, but when he checks he still has his sidearm and also now he's apparently crashlanded on a planet with absolutely awful-looking hostile fauna, wow, and that one's coming his way much too fast and he draws and shoots.
"He's a lovely person. He took a lot of offense when I was upset about his slave planet and I don't know where to start explaining things to him but he's perfectly nice.
But we've had two interactions, the getting upset about the slave planet and then talking to Carissa, where she told me that he was - some Avistani word for men who don't ever care for women and then he announced that actually he'd been cured of it and then everyone was kind of bewildered at each other about that."
"Everything about the interaction was very bewildering! There was some treatment he was clearly very distressed by, and he insisted it had worked at making him not attracted to men, but it hadn't done anything about attraction to women, and the point of it was to get married, though also he says no men sleep with men on his planet, which I suppose makes sense if they treat it medically as soon as anyone tries it, but, why would you bother?"
"I am not sure it'd be decision-relevant for her whether you were a demon with a maw of acid."
"...she volunteered the opinion that it would be annoying to be exclusively attracted to men because then you'd be risking pregnancy when you sought out, uh, 'hookups'."
"Yeah..." Belmarniss pulls out her index notebook and sticks bookmarks in a few pages.
Carissa doesn't keep trying to pray to Abadar after Kyeo leaves; clearly that was a sufficient duration of praying to Abadar and He doesn't care to talk to her right now, which is ridiculous to be offended about because she's never even heard of the thing that just happened to Kyeo. Priests get visions and dreams sometimes. Maybe Kyeo is ironically a perfect cleric of a god of wealth once he understands what wealth is.
She spends the evening waffling between despair that the Osirian doesn't want her and she'll be put to death and go to Hell in ten thousand years when her statue crumbles, if she's lucky, and despair that he does and in two days she'll be signed over to him with lots of people around smiling thinking this is a happy ending.
She sleeps poorly, which she has been lately, and it doesn't matter because she's not a spellcaster anymore.
" - hey." She should not really waste time trying to parse what this means for which bad thing is going to happen.
"Hi. I have located in my notes index some old questions I had in mind to ask an Asmodean if I ever had one who'd hold still for me and I can de-etherealize the books to see what they were but if you actually do not feel this would be a good use of your morning I can save the spell slots I'd use to put them back again, use 'em to spar with paladins or something."
"Oh, are you a sorcerer?... is there a spell for storing things that aren't spellbooks that way?
I - don't have plans and will try to be helpful to you if I can."
"I'm a sorcerer and a wizard both. And it's the same spell but I stick it to a Secret Page when the book's otherwise nonmagical. I'm here to be helpful to you, I just thought my old notes'd be a good jumping off point."
She looks at her index, appears a book in her hand, turns to the correct page. "So some of this is obviated by my having not known much about Asmodeanism at the time and basically treating it as a black box of 'why would anyone be on team Asmodeus, I guess that's just one of the mysteries of life', it might take me a bit to find anything that still applies." Flip flip. "Anything much on your mind?"