That will be excellent. She will stash them there, and then relax for a while.

But now, what's next? She makes a mental list:

• The Correspondence
• Bat-thrulls (sale? Cheesemonger's butcher?)
• The Gentlemen (value of lawyers)
• Sourcing mana

Honestly, she's not sure where to start. Operating independently is a weird experience.

But after some thought, she decides that she should walk around the neighborhood, with her escort and gun, and orient herself to it better.

...Tomorrow, though.

Then it is tomorrow. She takes her Gruggs and a walk, trying to look approachable.

The territory of the Gentlemen is still hardly welcoming, but the character is different. They don't move to stand in front of her path until an explanation is given, for example. She receives directions to The Box, where secrets and favors can be traded for coin.

Some standout denizens she can pass include:

An Ursine-Accompanied Singer in leather pants and an extremely poofy red shirt, oozing Red slowly, riding a docile bear with a bell around its neck, whose harness is clinking with dozens of bottles of alcohol. She offers the Dire Lady a drink in between verses of something pretty-sounding in French.

A Khanate Scrimshaw who has heard that she has a lot of ivory from somewhere and would perhaps like to buy some, or better yet, trade in kind. He shows off his work; It's very fine, tiny lines of text and stylized illustration of a tiger lounging in a tree, on a single long curved tooth.

A dapper-dressed man with bright golden eyes whose breath smells slightly of sulfur, who introduces himself as 'an associate of Hell' and offers to buy lunch if she'll make a judgement on a somewhat tricky contract regarding the rights to a soul, as a sort of interview.

A small urchin gang hawking various stolen knicknacks; Watches, wallets, purses, belts, shoes, hand mirrors, and so on. One of them standing back and watching over the rest eyes the Thrulls and fetches a Lethargic Bat in a rusty cage to display as she passes.

She politely declines the drink, suggesting that she might take one in the future when she is more at home here.

The scrimshaw is lovely, and she will definitely want to trade later. Probably mostly not in kind, but try not to sell the tiger for a week, will you? It's definitely to her taste.

She looks faintly bemused at the urchins, and notes the bat but doesn't actually engage with them. (Children are not really her speed.)

The devil, though:

"Ah, I'd been wondering when I'd meet one of your - kind? species? What's the polite term? I would love to take a look at the contract over lunch. Are you one of the parties to it yourself? Or did you perhaps just pull out the most challenging case you had available?"

"Oh, it's an old one in fact. Long settled by blood and fire, but it makes a good conversation piece. Either descriptor is acceptable. Just be aware that I am not associated with those fools pretending to be knights."

"It seems a strange mummery to turn your life toward. Harmless, perhaps? I don't properly know."

"Chivalry is just another set of laws, one that's easier for weak people to mentally deal with." Headshake. "I will get my usual table at the White Swan. Now or in a while?"

"Now will do for me."

He has a private room. The place is vegetarian, though there's decent variety none the less. The devil orders stir fry and honey-glazed fruit while maintaining small talk.

The gist of the contract, once you get past irrelevancies, is that a man managed to bet his soul twice by arguing that he had become a different person with a different soul, and then both bets reached the condition where he would owe it. The first contract conditions were fulfilled first. The second contract holder claims the 'different person' line.

Teysa orders a slightly different stir fry, and picks at the fruit when she notices it's served to be shared. (Usually at restaurants she was culturally obligated to performatively overeat and/or waste food, so 'shared appetizers' are a slightly foreign concept.)

She asks some questions about objective standards for measuring change in a soul, expecting this to be fuzzy enough not to be decisive, then examines the terms around the distinction.

"If I was arguing for the first contract, one tactic I've used is to goad a counterparty - either the second contractor, or the original man who had the soul - into testifying, and try to subtly corner them into admitting they didn't actually believe the 'different person' standard was met, or even better that they didn't think it could realistically be met. Obviously it depends on their personality, but it works more often than you might think. That also assumes that you have a concept analogous to mens rea. In short, that's 'intentions matter' - that someone entering into a contract, or filing suit, under knowing false pretenses, has a significant effect on whether the contract can be enforced or the suit upheld."

The standards for "new soul" are indeed not enough to be decisive. They're very high, but then, something very extreme happened to the man, involving Parabola.

"Always a sound tactic. It can be very helpful to unnerve a foe - or to make them underestimate you by focusing on the 'wrong' things. Tricky, tricky. We generally don't hold with mens rea, the letter of the law is superior. Nor do we hold with the nonsense of precedent. What would you guess actually happened in the end, in this case?"

"You might be missing out. Precedent creates more complex law, and complexity favours the party with experience and money. But here... The first contract. Pragmatism favours the one who can take possession immediately, and he can argue that he wagered for the soul, whatever would become of it, extreme changes not excepted. Not a flawless argument but a very strong one."

"Perhaps, perhaps. The old entrenched system always has the advantage. It does depend on one's objectives and position. Every system has its factions, doesn't it? There's a saying I picked up from an engineer... The design is not complete when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away. In this case, you're broadly correct- The soul was claimed by the first holder, and the thing left behind was promptly given a terrible fate by the second in anger over the whole affair."

"Tch. And what did they gain from that, hmm? Discouraging others from contracting in the future, and a misplaced sense that it wasn't their own error that was at fault."

"Discouraging others from contracting - in certain ways - is exactly what they meant to gain from it. I'm sure you can imagine how much more reluctant people were to look very carefully for technicalities that could cheat them, going forward. And of course, it's never that simple. Never just one thing. You don't have the historical context or even the names, but just another move in the great game. Wouldn't it be nice if it was just the words on the paper? But that's chivalric thinking, in my opinion."

"In my experience, it's much easier to get other organizations to play along with your rules when they're written down. Less relevant here than in the Khanate or London, I suppose, but if you're planning to stick around for centuries... Obviously it limits you, but make the text complex enough and it's not much."

"I see the point. There's something to be said for specificity, and for labyrinthineness, yes. All too often, of course, the law we weave fails before those of greater powers. From a position of cooperation, of exploring the possibilities, it is less useful. If what I've heard is right, you're from a vast city, powerful heir to an empire that, while not above all reproach, not immortal for nothing is, is at least as sturdy as the Mountain-of-Light. The position of Hell is less secure than the Mountain's."

"You're well-informed. One of a few hundred heirs, and I haven't actually heard of the Mountain of Light yet. But, yes, I have not gotten the sense that anything here has lasted to its Decamillennial, which everything important back home will have within a decade. It does remove some of the incentives, particularly for the group." She stops, but turns a hand slowly, thoughtfully, like she's trying to grasp something she can't see.

Then she finds it, and continues, "But, hmm, say I was a mortal considering contracting with a devil. If the angry second party wanted to secure my soul personally, and I'd heard about his retaliation, I'd certainly need a higher price before I'd consider him over the first party, or some other devil I knew nothing about. He's discouraged me from trying to be tricky with him, certainly, but I'm not likely to want to play straight with him either - I'd rather just not play. And that's not good unless all of Hell coordinates on similar levels of punishment for being foiled by attempted cleverness. Does it?"

"The Mountain of Light has seen its kilomillenial and more; The beings who dwell at its feet have seen their regime's decamillenial. Hell does not coordinate on that front, specifically. What's a little bit of profit in comparison to long-term considerations? Such as a reputation for not being trifled with. Aside from the odd malcontent, much of our coordination goes to political efforts. Have you heard of Carillon? A great success story, really."

"To an Orzhov, profit is the point, for its own sake. Always. But I understand why you might make a different tradeoff. What is Carillon?"

"A soul-improving resort presided over by a very intimidating, very capable woman. A partnership with several wealthy human patrons, allowing the skilled sculptors of the soul to care for the masses." He smiles broadly, with just a hint of menace in the eyes. "Faith, morality, the notion of sin... Such funny ideas they come up with, but we can help excise your greed. Your lust. Your envy. Mutually beneficial."

"Faith is such a useful lever, isn't it? Sin was never really our line with it, too prone to making people think there are things that coin can't redeem. But it keeps the masses under control marvelously."

"From what I understand it was something between a historical accident and a bit of an inevitability when our trade is souls and nothing but. There were some areas that held more convenient views, at times and places. It is what it is. How do you define profit? The line between gains from trade and increases in production, and more complete control of available resources..."

"Coin itself, for the most part. Precious metals aren't nothing, and in theory anything which an overwhelming majority of the populace perceives as a store of value can do. But it absolutely must be an unambiguous physical representation of material wealth, that's ritually significant."

"I'm curious what the margin of error is on 'overwhelming majority' and 'store of value' are. Gemstones? Bronzewood? Tea? Souls? Paper or cryptographic fiat?"