"Orzhov, huh? Such a shame they're not here with you, unless those gutter things are Orzhovs. Dire, pfah. And who called you that?"

"Oh, I think she can earn the adjective," the Bearded Captain comments.

"We'll see. You want something and it's not just to introduce me to your lady friend." She seems to revel in the piercing, direct statement.

"Yes, but we don't need to get into that right away, do we? I'll buy a round, how about."

A smile from the Khanite. "Uncharacteristically generous of you."

"Maybe I want to leave a good impression for my guest."

"A Piranesi chaplain gave it to me, I think it will do until I can pick my own. And I asked to be introduced. You sounded worth impressing," she says, with the air of someone who has never in her life had cause to doubt her ability to impress.

"If you manage to not die despite knowing nothing about here I guess that'll be impressive." She waves at the bartender, who nods and starts filling glasses. "The only other surefire way to do that is to kill something big, displays of other talents can be so scattershot."

"I have some abilities I believe aren't common here. Guarantee truthfulness, make more like my thrulls, trivial little lights on command, and others that are more esoteric. But perhaps I'll make impressing you a longer-term goal."

"Oh, is that why. Old Beardy, do you trust me so little?"

The Captain scowls. "Some things need to be verified, scarface. It's the way the game goes." Khara makes a slight grimace at the returned insult, then nods as if to say 'fair enough'.

"True, true. Truth is such a delicate thing. Intertwined with thought and perception..." She squints hard at the thusly-introduced Dire Lady.

"I also have interest in a more ordinary transaction. Hard Sovereigns, for the gems I know you pry from Grievers."

"Yeah, we can do that too. But I want to hear what you think about truth first."

"It's not really my opinion that's relevant, but the opinion of, hmm, 'white mana' probably means nothing to you. In a verity circle, you cannot make false statements, you cannot give misleading answers to questions you are directly posed, opinions vary on the degree to which it compels you to speak rather than remain silent but it's largely moot. Rapid answers are not compelled, you can stall if the questions go out of scope. I can swear intent to follow the standard procedures within my own circle, to avoid scope problems, though you may reasonably doubt that's efficacious and I'm not sure I can reassure you."

"...Hey Sufi, if you can tell me to my face under her truth spell about your girlfriend, I'll believe you. And you can tell me what it's like."

Sufi shrugs. "My job to poke my head in and see if it gets bit off? Should be interesting at least."

"I'm sure I can come up with something to compensate for a little demo if necessary," she nods at the Dire Lady.

"Sure. And no need for much of a favor, I can practically do it in my sleep. I can add a small question or two of my own, perhaps."

She traces out a circle on the floor, wide enough for three people to stand in if they didn't need personal space. It glows faintly, rippling with some script they don't know. When she completes it, it brightens substantially.

"There. Step inside. I can describe usual procedure if you like, or save that for your boss."

"I do admit to bein' a mite nervous and would appreciate said explanation."

Teysa steps inside herself.

"When used outside a courtroom, it is customary for the questioner - me, here - to agree to the primary questions in advance. Other questions can be asked, but if the witness - the one in the circle, sorry, jargon - resists answering for anything not relevant to the primary questions, the questioner either retracts the question or drops the circle. It is permissible to end by asking if there was any information left out that would be misleading on a specified list of topics, which should be equal or equivalent to the primary questions. Other people can ask questions, but it is again customary for the questioner/advokist to retract them or drop the circle if they're out of line. I will follow custom strictly for you and, if relevant, for Khara."

She steps back out.

"I'll give you a chance to see what delaying an answer feels like. Any particular question you'd like me to use for that?"

"Nothing about the ship or the missions."

"Ask me all about my very real girlfriend and our amazing love life, why don't you. And some more embarrassing questions besides, so this lot believes it."

"If you manage to lie about anything obvious, names or math or any of that, you get fifty sovs, that'll do for belief," Khara Two-Scar says after some thought.

Sufi grins and jumps inside the glowing floor ring.

"If you insist. What's your name, and what's your girlfriend's name?"

"I'm Sufi Khoboran, and my girlfriend is-"

She tries to outright lie, to see what it feels like. "Jemmine" is not her girlfriend's name, but if she tries to speak it...?

The real name comes out like she'd intended to say that instead. Everyone finds it surprising, many also find it very disconcerting.

"-Rita Windsor. Fuck! Rotting bones and offal, that's weird!"

There's a series of guffaws and jeering. "No wonder we never see her! A Londoner!"

"She's very lovely, I'll have you all know!"

"Shut it," Khara commands, smacking one of the laughing men on the head in a way that probably still counts as "lightly" by her standards. "Yeah, I knew. What? We're not exactly good Leopards and Eagles out here. Frontier life. Go on."

"When did you last-" hmm, not sure what's intimate here, be careful "-touch Rita? What did you have for breakfast? What's 23 times 27?"

"How about I don't answer that first one. Fried eggs of an unspecified origin an' booze and pora fruit, hell knows where the things come from but they haven't killed me yet. That's, what... Four sixty and... Five ninety? No, seventy five, eight one... Six hundred one. I think."

The Lady lets her sit with the unanswered question for a few seconds before she says "Alright, I take the girlfriend question back." After Sufi finishes, she says, "It's six twenty-one, actually. Or possibly six-eleven. What's 23 times 27?" (It doesn't give her any more confidence in any of the answers, despite only one of them being correct.)

"Nah, I think I was wrong the first time- Gahhhh. That's weird, I was trying to be super confident I was right the first time. I don't know, I'm not a math girl."

"I imagine it doesn't come up much except for bookkeeping and aiming long shots. And I'm mostly just putting you through the paces with as many flavors of maybe-lying as are likely to come up. It's kind of fun, I usually only do this when training new advokists. Just to wrap that up:"

"27 is thirty less three, so 23 times 27 is 23 times 30 less 23 times 3. 23 times 3 is 69, so that becomes 690, take away 69, leaving 621." She pauses for a beat. "So, now, what's 23 times 27?"

"Sounds about right. I have to take your word for it that you're actually bound by this thing too and it's not sucking out my soul or anything, but I sure seem to be fine-ish."

"I'm not still in the circle, the only thing keeping me from lying is professional integrity. I haven't, though. Anything else you want me to ask about before you leave it?"

The Bearded Captain makes effort to point his body language at Teysa, not the hanger-on currently in the circle, and says, "I would like to ask but am not doing so directly in hopes that doesn't press it - if there's a mental pressure to answer, and if one might imagine scenarios in which you manage to lie inside the circle."

"I mean, go ahead and ask as long as it's on topic. Yeah, there is, and that one didn't twig it but I'm answering anyway. Feels kinda like Chorister Honey. And I was trying to be confidently wrong, but it didn't work. Insane or sneaky people might do. And I bet you can still do, ah, carefully selected truths if the questions aren't careful. And I wonder if Correspondence or some shit like that could get through it... Fuck tryna use Correspondence, though."

"What about Irrigo?" Khasa prompts.

"Oh yeah, bet that'd do it. 'Oh, no officer, I have no memory of that at all'."

"What you don't know can't be forced out of you," she confirms, "though if it leaves noticeable gaps you might mention that. Not confessing those unless pressed is the kind of thing you can do with practice. Holding back tangentially-relevant information is easiest, giving misleading truths is harder. Telling outright lies of commission is probably impossible. Though I don't know what Correspondence or irrigo is, maybe that could overcome it."

"Okay, I think I've seen enough to be willing to step foot in that thing for a premium. Depending on what exactly it is you want to know."

The Bearded Captain nods. "I'd sooner discuss that in a back room than here, mind. Gemstones for Sovereigns first?"

"Aye." They start haggling.

Sufi steps out of the circle and tells the Dire Lady, "Irrigo is the color of forgetfulness. You can't really describe it to someone who hasn't seen it, and it's not... It's definitely a color. Sort of purpley, except not at all. It's really hard to remember irrigo things and it can help you forget other stuff too. You don't see Neathbow colors up here that often, though. And Correspondence is the language of Powers, innately magical, but human minds aren't built for it."