"Cicerone. How can we pay for this?"

Oh no, his congregation is confusing different parts of theology in an already very confusing situation.

"It's not a trade. As you say, we could not pay for it, so it would not be a fair trade. But this is a gift, and gifts don't need to be repaid."

"But aren't gifts - wrong?"

"Giving gifts is wrong! Accepting them is only wrong because it encourages others to give more of them, which is wrong for them too."

"But it's not wrong in the sense of being unLawful, or unlawful, or harming people like an Evil. It's wrong for Abadarans, because it's - not the best thing to do. It's much better to pay for something, and be sure what you're getting, than to give a gift, and hope it's used towards what you wanted."

"But some people choose to be Lawful Good, and I don't think it's wrong for Iomedaeans to give gifts. So I think we can accept this gift because it's being given by outsiders who are Lawful Good and won't be harmed by being encouraged to give more gifts. And Abadar confirmed that it's in our interests to accept it."

Actually - "There is a much simpler explanation. This gift has immense value to us. We will benefit much much more by having it than we will be harmed by accepting it as a gift. So we should take it regardless. As I said, it's not unLawful."

Something else the priest said is bothering him. "Everyone can go to Axis now? Even if they're not Lawful?"

"Only to the area for non-Lawful visitors. Unless they agree to abide by the laws of Axis."

"But... anyone can agree to follow the law. Won't people stop leading Lawful lives if they don't have to, anymore, to get into Axis?"

"Won't more people be Evil, if everyone who goes to Hell ends up in Heaven?" someone else asks.

That is a valid question. It's not one Pamin has asked himself, because he is (correctly) trying to go to Axis and not to Heaven, so he didn't notice that going to Heaven was now easier.

"I think when non-Lawful people go into Axis proper, they have to pay insurance," Harminē says uncertainly. "To cover the costs of any crime they commit. And the insurance is higher if they're more Chaotic and less trustworthy. So people should still be Lawful, to avoid paying more."

"But everyone is going to be very rich now. Won't they be able to pay it anyway?"

"I don't know!" Harminē admits. "If they are, that's - better, because the insurance will cover the costs, so everyone will be better off. It's always better for people to be richer." This is an axiom but he can see it leading somewhere - not wrong, obviously, but very different from how the world used to be.

But then...

"I worked so hard to be Lawful, to earn Axis. And now - anyone can go there, even a rich thief, or some lazy bum who coasted on his inheritance? Is everything I've done worthless now?" Am I worthless?

"I worked hard to avoid Hell," someone else complains. "I donated to the Iomedaeans for that! It was a lot of money!"

"What you did isn't worthless. But it is worth less. Much less, because we are much richer now, so we can afford to buy much more of it. It's worth a much smaller part of our money, which means it's cheap, but it's still the same amount of money. Having more money is better."

"It feels... unfair. I had something, some value" - Pamin isn't sure himself if he means he had something of value or that he was of value - "and now I don't. And I got a gift. But nobody asked me. Is that alright because it's not a trade, so it doesn't have to be fair?"

That is probably a typical reaction when people interact with Lawful Good. Harminē thinks Lawful Good assumes too much about what is "Good" and what trades to make to achieve it, instead of just letting people put prices on the things they want. He knows he doesn't really understand them, though.

"It's true that the Good outsiders didn't do the best thing for you that they could have. But if they had offered you this trade, would you have accepted? I think you should have, and I think Abadar thinks so too. For all His people, not for you personally, but I don't think you're very unusual."

"The outsiders didn't trade fairly with us. They didn't trade with us at all - I think they did trade with the gods, who represented some of our interests, but they didn't trade with each of us individually. And I don't know if they traded fairly with Abadar about everything they did, or just some things. We're still much better off."

He would have accepted the deal if they offered it. He knows it because Abadar said so - actually, it includes free food and housing and magic, so he would have accepted it. 

He feels that's not the same thing as actually getting the chance to accept it.

"Cicerone... what should I do now? There's nothing I can do that the magic can't do better. How can I work?" Even if he somehow doesn't need more money, it's wrong, almost unthinkable to contemplate a life without work. Not working is lazy, it's freeloading, it's - corrupting. 

When he imagines not working - having a house, and food, and not needing or being able to work - he suddenly has a horrible image of himself, sitting alone in his house, forever. Where would he go, if not for food or to work? Will his parents or his daughter visit him if they don't need him? Even if they do, how will live with himself between their visits?

"I don't know yet. But that is what markets are for. Everyone can work at something, no matter how unskilled they are or how rich everyone else is." This is another axiom of Abadaran theology, and he doesn't really understand it but he does believe in it. "Many very smart people will want to figure out what ordinary people can still work at, because by enabling that work they can fairly get some of the value it produces. And then people who want that work done will advertise for it, and we will hear about it. So we don't have to figure it out ourselves."

He really really hopes that's true. He can't imagine what he'll do if it isn't. So - he believes it's true. The priest said so, and he has faith.

Her Infernal Majestrix, Abrogail Thrune II, is the furthest possible thing from a typical human, and she has people working for her who'll flay anyone who disagrees.

She has spent her life appalled at the incompetence of the Chelish ruling class and attracted by that same weakness. She rose and rose and impatiently plotted to rise some more, until at the age of majority she went into Hell and emerged from it refined, with an artifact on her brow and vast power thrumming at her fingertips and in her head.

She has reigned for five weeks and ruled for four and none have dared to challenge her for two, and in a few more Cheliax will finally begin its rise back to imperial glory. She will tighten Ravounel and Isger's leashes until they are her obedient slaves, and then she will come for Molthune. No more ambiguously worded trade contracts and promises of assistance at need: an Asmodean Empire needs to have proper vassals, enslaved or tyrannized or ideally both.

She is enjoying herself and not at all receiving a report on tax receipts, when her latest toy for the day vanishes from beneath her fingertips.

...

Who dares?

She will teleport to a security post and order scrying and other divinations. In a round or two, when she is dressed.

There is no-one there.

A coup, then? But she notices things left in disarray, as if the security wizards had also mysteriously vanished, leaving behind a half-open door and a steaming cup of coffee and a report that really should not have been left unattended.

She makes a mental note to the effect that, if the security wizards are not part of a coup, they will need to be disciplined (and also punished) for drinking on duty and for letting classified materials leave their possession and for being vanishable.

She teleports to her command center, in case she needs to count on Gorthoklek's physical presence.

Gorthoklek is conspicuously absent. As is everyone else, including some of Aspexia's subordinates.

She is now seriously alarmed. A pit fiend who does not wish to move is, generally speaking, immovable.

She does not have a permanent telepathic bond with Aspexia, because Aspexia has not yet agreed to her conditions for when she is allowed to message Abrogail. She does not have one with anyone else in her security apparatus, because it is expensive and she isn't sure yet which of them will still have their job in a month. She doesn't have any non-permanent telepathic bonds up, because a fifth-circle spell every hour is differently expensive, and her security wizards need their spells for other things.

The standing security protocol, in the extremely unlikely event of her security team vanishing and Gorthoklek not being at his post, can be interpreted as saying she should retreat to a secured plane and sending Aspexia from there, even though it will cost her ten minutes of not personally responding to an attack. If someone managed to take out Gorthoklek, Aspexia (and possibly Hell itself) should have been alerted by now, even without her intervention.

Other archmages - she feels she deserves the title, even at 8th circle, on account of her crown; it's not as if Morgethai dares to challenge her rule - other archmages, when threatened by a mysterious force, retreat to their private secure demiplanes. But she is better than that. She does not need a demiplane, because she has the planes of Hell itself at her call.

(Also, she hasn't found a fork for Infrexus's private demiplanes yet, and a new one with all the necessary permanent spells costs too much. Maybe she should have arranged that tax report after all, on the subject of why is there not more money when your Queen requires it.)

She plane shifts to Avernus, mulling whether to teleport to the Promised Land or to plane shift further into Dis before Sending Aspexia.

A terrifying black horsewoman is about to ride her down! She appears to be riding out of an enormous explosion!!

Her crown's enhancements helpfully inform her that the horsewoman is very honestly intent on killing everyone before her, and that Abrogail should be very, very afraid!

If she looks the other way she will see a gigantic warrior in black plate armor, towering above the horsewoman despite her horse, running towards her while waving an enormous greatsword.