He smiles slightly.  "I've spent about a hundred gold pieces a week on your cult in one way or another, in addition to lending it the weight of my name and speaking against a proposed ban of it by the city government - I have no weight at Imperial levels, but have some spoons to stir Indapatta's pot.  I hardly think it fair that my fate be judged relative to what sponsors in other cities have done, perhaps those who fear Abaddon more than I.  If I support your cult as I've already been doing, is that enough to win that much grace, from you?"

"I have a feeling you could afford to double it."

"So I could, though it's not clear how your cult could usefully spend the extra money.  I've spent a hundred gold pieces per week because they haven't rented any more speaking-places, or required more protection about their business, or found more criers to hire, than that."

"How about you simply don't sell me to anyone who hasn't agreed to abide by the terms of the compact, including that term?  And I'll offer up to two hundred gold per week support, if whoever seems to be your cult's current leader in Indapatta has requests as productive, fairly judged by myself, as those they've made already; for at least one year, and at most ten years or until I die or have myself petrified for a time, whichever comes first."

"Twelve years, and you can't petrify yourself inside four." This doesn't matter at all but she can't tip her hand on being indifferent to anything that doesn't happen in the next two months. "And averaging two hundred a week, if there are requests as productive as those they've made already, but exceeding that sometimes, if, for instance, there's a spike in demand whenever I pass through town."

"I expect that'll be acceptable to me.  I'll wish to write a formal compact and think on its terms before I quite sign myself over..."

"How am I to know if I've done Hell more service than disservice?  That's an element of the compact you were to seek with Asmodeus, according to what your Disciple said."

"With that, I can make you no guarantees, except that Hell likes it when you damn people, and the rumor mill at least has it you enjoy that yourself."

He smiles more widely, at that.  "I've never hired a Malediction and would never.  They damned themselves, and if any element of that was unfair, it's Pharasma who made those rules, not myself.  But since they went to Hell, I might as well profit in reputation from having their fates scryed and made known, and acting as if it were all my doing."

"I haven't done Hell any disservice that I know of...  Can I simply send gifts to Cheliax's government for that purpose?  You mentioned a succession dispute in Cheliax, is there anything I should know to avoid doing you a disservice there?"

She smiles blandly. "Maybe send your gifts in a month once things have settled down."

He smiles back, equally blandly.  "How long do you stay with us, in Indapatta?  I'd like some time to think over contract wordings and perhaps consult someone more knowledgeable in Infernal compacts."

"I'd only planned to spend the evening, this trip, and to return perhaps monthly, if events don't change that. I have cults in many cities, and things keeping me busy at home besides. I'd want the increase in spending to start immediately, to take advantage of any opportunities my presence presents; I can wait a month to ink the deal, if you can."

He hesitates slightly, and then nods to this.  "With the understanding that the timed terms begin running now, yes."

"Is there aught else I can do for you?"

"Not especially. Pleasure doing business." - she pauses on the coat-rack as she stands. "Posed with Dominate Person, or natural?"

It's something of a personality-test, that petrified woman: some joke uncomfortably, some compliment him, relatively few notice the improbability of petrifying somebody at just the right moment to produce an ideal cloak-holder.

"I told her to do it, and she did.  It turns out that even if you're not a fifth-circle wizard you can get a long way in life on just threats."

"Heh, I thought so. Hell keep you, Master Taravind."

"May you succeed in all your goals, Master Sevar."

Well, she's not profoundly satisfied with that or anything but she is pretty sure, if it leaks, no one will infer that Carissa Sevar expects the world to end in a month, for better or for worse, nor that Hell, if she ever rules in it, is going to be very different. 

He'll escort her from his place of business personally.  Being seen in Carissa Sevar's amicable company can only help his status in Indapatta; those who feared him before will be in terror of him now.

She is happy to be a terrifying accessory to this guy, who does seem like the kind of person Asmodeus wants, including his desperate trying to avoid becoming Asmodeus's. 

Parvansh is still waiting for her in the foyer when she comes there, of course, to escort her to the fifth-circle and the sunset's meeting-place.

She's looking forward to it!

...He can't fly anymore, though.  Does she want to do that again, or walk to the fifth-ring location?

She can Fly him again, why not.

Then they'll be able to approach the meeting-place very quickly.  Parvansh should probably be able to think of a million better questions, but the only one coming to his mind is whether Sevar got along amicably with Grandmerchant Taravind; they're both rather important people to Sevarism in Indapatta.  He'll ask that one.

"We did! It's interesting to meet Lawful Evil people who aren't Chelish; they relate to it very differently."

"How so?"

(He's still nervous about exactly how well they got along.)