The Yeerk staff look around at each other, unhappy and scared. The mage is mostly still fascinated by the scry. 

"All right. If you think it's a good idea, then - well, you know Mhalir the best - I'll go with your judgement on this." 

"Adept Kiyamvir Ma'ar," she says urgently through the scry. 

He spins around, startled, instantly falling into the balanced stance of someone ready to fight.

"Who are you." 

"I'm from another world. There are lots of them. We got here in a ship that can travel between them. We had a shuttle in the air over your country and it got shot down, I think by the other side of your war, if it wasn't by you. We think we can - get the war to stop - it's a really stupid war to be having - but not if it escalates right now -"

He looks so suspicious and stressed and confused! 

"I did not shoot down anything," he says, carefully. "Why do you think you can stop the war. Urtho has refused all attempts to open talks." 

"With you! We think he'll talk to us. If only because he's curious how magic works in our world." Powerful mages are the same everywhere, she is willing to bet.

"I - would be willing to meet and speak tomorrow," he says, still cautious and tense. "Right now is really not a good time."  

"Because you're moving your army. We can see it. And - it's just going to make it harder for us to get our people back from Urtho and to negotiate a peace, if you take that Gate-terminus. I know it must - seem like this is plausibly a distraction. But - if there's anything that could convince you, just - think about it for one minute and we might be able to offer it -"

He nods, tightly, holds up a hand. "One minute." 

The seconds pass. Ma'ar paces. 

She wants to give him a hug, which is objectively an odd way to feel about a stranger, but then, he isn't one, not in the most important way.

The minute ends. 

Ma'ar looks up, tense, but holding his expression and body in controlled stillness. It's eerily reminiscent of the way Mhalir moves her body, especially how he does it when he's very stressed. 

"Some sort of conclusive physical proof that you are from another world, one capable of making ships that travel between worlds. You can leave it at..." and he describes a landmark in one of the provinces, near the dam and the main aqueduct, pinning it down neatly and efficiently in words. "If you do this within the next candlemark, and it is - convincing - then I will not move my troops on the Gate-terminus. Although if Urtho attacks my people will fight back." 

"Thank you."

And she glances up at the room. Repeats his instructions, since usually only the person using the scry can hear the conversation through it.

There are nods. Relieved sighs. 

"What do we think - technology, or Golarion magic items, or both?" Mhalir's second-in-command says after a moment. 

"Both might be more confusing. I told him we have different magic, though, so technology might also be confusing - and Golarion doesn't have ships that can travel the stars - ugh. If we're leaving him Golarion things I'd leave him my bag of holding and the crystal ball. Those don't prove that we can travel worlds, because we can't, but they're very complicated and obviously from another one...if we're leaving him Yeerk things I don't know what. A computer?"

"I don't know that we have one with an interface he could figure out on his own. We've got some Earth tech too - could do a music player or something, we could leave him an...electrical generator? Really I'd want to show him antigravity or something, to demonstrate what we can do, but that's not portable."

"A music player and a generator and a magic item but one it'll be less crippling to lose than the crystal ball, maybe. Do any of the ones I'm wearing look impressive and obviously impossible with your magic," she asks the mage.

"Hmm. I - think your cloak and your headband are the most confusing. What does the cloak actually do - I can barely even describe it, it's got a bit of the same feeling that Bards do when they're using their Gift, I saw one perform once. And I can't figure out what the headband does at all." 

"The headband does intelligence and the cloak does diplomacy. If they're both impressive I'd sooner give up the cloak."

"Cloak seems impressive enough," the mage concedes. 

     "Mhalir would find the headband a lot more exciting," his second-in-command points out. "Though it also seems costlier for you to give up right now, bad time to not have your full wits about you." 

"I know he'd love it. I'm worried he won't even trust us enough to try it on. He'd - see the potential, though -" She makes a face and takes her headband off. "Anyone here speak Predain or Tantaran so you can write a note explaining all of these and what they do -"

Yes, one of their new mage-recruits can write in Tantaran and they'll put together a letter to go with the package. 

Then she'll send her nice headband secure in the knowledge that at least he probably won't break it, even if he's too cautious to try it on.

Mhalir wakes up again and feels awful again and- this has happened before, maybe a lot of times - why can't he think - he's in a host, it's still not Carissa which is TERRIBLE, his host body feels - mostly fine, actually, just thirsty - but even taking enough control to sit up feels like struggling through glue. 

There are raised voices speaking a foreign language outside, which is probably what woke him. They don't seem to be hurting his host's head anymore but Mhalir is nonetheless finding the sensory input overwhelming. 

...right, he's in Urtho's Tower - something he should do, probably important, but even getting the water jug on the bedside table is proving to be beyond him. He relinquishes control, maybe his host can get herself water this time. 

"No," Urtho is saying, "that is not going to work - this is an emergency, I don't care if she - they - are injured, we need to know what is going on." 

"She has a nasty concussion and the - symbiote, whatever it is - is worse off, I think I can't heal it very effectively. Him. Can it wait six candlemarks–"