"I'm not coming up with anything that won't come out - accusatory - uh.  I suppose... Just why? Why evil?"

"Are you asking what makes us Evil or a more historical question about how this came about?"

"I mean- I don't think-

I suppose, what are the things that make - I am assuming - an overwhelming majority of Cheliax evil, and why are those things... Practiced."

"The soul trade is Evil, as you have apparently intuited, and paper currency is standard in Cheliax. Worshiping Asmodeus is Evil and doing as He commands likewise and this we do because His church and His backed noble House control the country and order our faith. Torture is Evil and common to create incentives for lawful behavior; you do not need to worry about this because you are not a Chelish soldier. Slavery is, if not invariably Evil, at least a common occasion for it; we don't have chattel here because it's a security risk but it's common domestically because it gets the spinning and the farming and so on done. In general attempting to improve one's situation in a negative-sum environment is Evil and ordinary people generally desire to improve their situations even in such cases."

"It felt like magical slavery via Share Language."

She is going to rub her forehead with both hands now apparently.

"I would think Evil anticorrelated with Law, the most natural evils I had heard of before being things of - desperation and opportunism - of course no industry means more people are doing hand work but- Ugh."

The 'god' is the problem. He even admits it, and Share Language agrees.

-City Frostbound tortures people for capital crimes. Very occasionally.

"Many Evil beings are not Lawful, such as the demons, but Asmodeus is and we as His creatures are meant to emulate this example."

"And you are His because... He'll torture you otherwise? ...I can see why this line of questioning is usually unproductive."

"It is a fact of the matter that many powerful entities such as gods can project power into the Material Plane by the means of various omens, miracles, and representatives. I happen to be an example of this category. The exact way in which it came about is trivia."

"I don't plan to immediately leave for Kenabres but I am considering it much more strongly now. I have learned enough Taldane for some basic functions without a Share Language. If I decide to leave and work east with patrols it will be after claiming my - allotment of supplies and building equipment with it."

"I can also write the adjacent fort's purser a note to the effect that you are entitled to the remainder of your coin if you prefer, though if you are going to travel with all that you might want to spend some of it on a Bag of Holding. They are quite marked up out here but I expect someone can spare one for enough money."

"If someone steals from me that's a treaty violation, right?"

"Yes."

"So it's just the weight or a demon stealing it. If I get enough metal I can make a skeleton suit, I'd probably prefer that... If there's enough metal. But at this point it's not something that needs your personal involvement to plan." Sigh.

"Do you need anything else?"

"I may be able to learn something by examining the holy bow or other magic items, and would put that knowledge to use here if a good application is found, while I remain here. Also in the event of a serious crisis allowing my sorcery to run wild improvisation with the contents of the storeroom may produce an unusual and deadly weapon in a short time. One to five minutes. I've done it before, converting a mining machine I was repairing into a drill launcher to fight a pack of giant cave moles, it draws down some ephemeral resource much faster than more careful work. It seemed worth mentioning for consideration before such a crisis actually occurs."

"The holy bow is fortress property and kept up on the parapets and Lieutenant Bartra can give you permission to examine it. Other magic items are generally personal property and therefore personal discretion, or consumable and therefore kept secured, but if you can get anywhere with the bow and want to look at more objects something can likely be arranged. I will write the quartermaster a note about your claim."

"That's all I think."

This was exhausting and confirmed the building dread in her gut.

"Dismissed."

...She's gonna go have a sulk nap.

And eventually show up for that fort repairs class because may as well.

They really want to keep the stairs in good repair because people go up and down the fast in emergencies and if there's a chunk missing because somebody was fucking around with Acid Splash it'll trip somebody. Here's how they do that. Serious issues need to wait for a Stone Shape but they can patch things temporarily.

Makes sense yep.

Sigh.

She gets her coat and coins, and negotiates with the quartermaster for Stuff. She fusses with the Stuff in the smithy overnight, making Other Stuff. She plods forward on learning Taldane. She puts together a calculus lecture but her heart's not really in it. She goes out into the snow and fetches rocks and makes bowls and buttons and belt-buckles and boxes and little decorative figures and arrowheads with them. She staaaaaaares at the holy bow and ultimately declares that she'd definitely need spellsilver and several tries probably to make something like it. She slowly works on something approximating proper gear with deeply inadequate materials (including more Literally Just Rocks),. Mostly it'll consist of a small boiler and steam engine in a backpack-like configuration, and a skeleton suit to bear the weight for it, and then putting the saw back to proper steam power.

Time passes.

A group of adventurers comes in from the east to stay the night; they think their sorcerer is coming up on fifth, and want the teleport locations.

Oh? Someone who's not Chelish? She's been pretty closed off... Might be a good time to. Go. To really go.

(It feels like she should Do Something about Cheliax, but what can she do? One person, fucking with a mostly competent operation of hundreds, and a not-the-queen-of-england-but-something-like it evil torture slavery being? It'd be suicidal and counterproductive.)

She's currently carving arrowheads in the mess and wearing her mostly complete cobbled together from scrap and raw iron backpack-engine on her back, to get used to it and because it's just... Comforting, to have it right next to her. She waves, glumly.

"Huh, what're you?" asks the party's archer. "You're not usual."

"Hi. I'm Waltana, or Walta. I got dropped inside the Wound by a hostile teleport. Without any of my stuff. Going to go to Kenabres sooner or later, maybe sooner since I've rebuilt the most important bit." Sigh. Shrug.