"Why isn't this hypothetical project drawing from one of the many proven, experienced managers already known to Crown and Church?"

"Because there's stunningly few people who could even try their hand at a Project like ours, when a fifth-circle cleric of Asmodeus with twenty years managing a Worldwound installation was not enough.  Because all of those people are busy and pulling them out from their current jobs would be injurious to the state of Cheliax."

"And because you'd be better at it than them."

"Really.  Why would I be better at it?"

"Maybe you'd actually use the correct amount of torture or... no.  That's probably not it."

"You're probably somebody who can see what's real, and say what's true, and get along with others doing the same, in a way that would've been more difficult for somebody making their way up the traditional Asmodean system from inside of it."

"Uh huh.  Well, for a wizard apprentice bluffing her way through all this, you sure know how to deliver the flattery."

"Splendour 21."

"Buuuulllllllllllshiiiiit."

"Comes out of a headband and I'm still new to it."

"If you persuaded me to take this hypothetical job, wizard apprentice, I'd believe you."

"There's some set of guarantees and bribes that would work for you.  Why not just tell me what that is?"

"What, like, a compact personally signed by the Queen of Cheliax saying that at worst I get fired rather than tortured, a thousand gold pieces a week salary, and a Barony in Nidal if I meet clearly defined and reasonable project targets?"

"Would that do it?"

"If it was literally that, yes."

"Well, I don't personally have the authorization to offer you that, because 'the system doesn't have an option for unlimited authorizations, or rather, the system does have that option and it's called "being the Queen of Cheliax"' and I am far too loyal to even think about that."

"So you're going to have to wait a few rounds until the person on the other end of this scry gets your request to the Queen for approval."

Mora snickers, and throws back the rest of her awful piss.  "It's been fun, kid, but I've had my beer and don't really want another, unless you know where I can get a better one without paying too much.  What's your name?"

"Pilar Pineda."

"The Dreaded Sorceress of Cake or Death, out of the Ascendant Three.  She Who Is Already Standing Behind You.  That Pilar Pineda?"

"Yes, although in this case it's She Who Was Already Sitting In The Tavern."

"And I've been informed that Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II of the House of Thrune, has approved your requested job conditions and rewards."

"Aren't I supposed to get cake, at some point in this process?"

Pilar Pineda reaches under the bar and takes out an entire chocolate cake to hand to her new superior.

"Welcome to Project Lawful, sir."

Roc de Castell.  Sixth legitimate son of a noble line of Taldor, first and last child of a mother who died in childbirth, ignored and shuffled away after he failed at wizardry despite apparent great promise, given enough of a stipend that he can afford to stay at a minor university forever if he supports himself and his position there by occasional lectures.

"Pardon me, sir, but might I ask you a mathematical question?"

Roc de Castell looks up from the library desk where he's revising his next set of lectures, frowning.  That was a woman's voice, or the voice of an exceptionally unfortunate young man.  Probably a woman, if she wants to hood herself like that to avoid trouble from people questioning what she's doing in a university.

It's not his place to enforce such matters, and she did say she had a math question, perhaps an interesting one.  "Ask."

"Suppose a repetitive random event which yields either RIGHT or LEFT, of unknown fixed frequency of LEFTs and RIGHTs where any RIGHT frequency between 0 and 1 seems equally plausible in advance of observation.  After observing two RIGHTS and one LEFT, what is the chance of seeing LEFT next time?"

He sniffs and looks back down at his work.  Not interesting, then.  "Two-fifths."