"Separate magic also exists for comprehending written language. And now I realized it could be an interesting question would it reveal extra details of this Correspondence. But I cannot activate that magic personally."

The sigil system is certainly making Mordessa think very hard trying to unravel it, but the amount of data is still a bit low. The remarkable color feels almost like it's painting in her head.

"I find the risk acceptable for the amount of information that could be gained here. Begin as you wish." she does seem to be braced for whatever could happen. One interpretation could be that she does not fear death, explosions, or burning. She did seem a bit worried regarding the insanity and disloyal thoughts before, though.

Mr Cards nods, and cuts a slit through the curtains (and the sheets behind them, sufficient to send a single beam of light into the first prism. The light is split, and reflected, and focused, and split again, bouncing around the room in ways that defy conventional understanding of optics, until several dozen expansive sigils are clearly visible, patterned out on each wall wherever any space is available. These sigils are somewhat denser and more complex than those used by Mr Cards, though some remain relatively simple. The walls are notably warmed by the projected sigils.

<All That Lives Shall Flourish In Our Light>

<A Radiance Which Brings An End To All Wounds Is Given To Those Who Serve Life>

<Our Blessings Shall Harm That Which Is Nurtured By The Hungering Void>

<Let None Dare To Threaten Those Newly Forged Sparks Of Life Which Remain Under Our Protection>

<Power Shall Be Stripped From Those Remnant Sparks Who Bear The Curse Spoken By The Lord Of The First Divine Mistake, Who Have Trespassed Against The Forge Of Creation>

<Let Destruction Fall Upon That Lineage Whose Banner Is The Accursed Winged Beast Which Feeds Upon The Dead, For The Crime Of Theft And Consumption Of Divine Blood>

There are more, whose meanings grow steadily denser, and are increasingly painful even to consider. Mr Cards seems somewhat surprised by the symbols, but swiftly begins to copy down as much as they can as quickly as possible, commenting only, "Odd... this is surprisingly sparse, for sunlight. Perhaps the local Judgment enforces fewer rules?"

Indeed, many things that would have been listed as crimes under Earthly sunlight are not mentioned here at all, and those crimes which are called out all seem to do with... a particular sort of being which seems inherently opposed to all other life? A being more familiar than Mr Cards with local conditions might understand some sigils as referring to positive energy, and some as referring to specific types of undead harmed by sunlight.

The pain itself might not be enough to block a Devil set on a mission from reading the sigils, but it seems Mordessa lacks some capacities that would be required for continuous reading. Looking at the second sigil their vision and thoughts of the sigil are starting to slow down as if moving through tar. Brief glances for now are the best they can do.

A wondering tone, "We would not usually say the sunlight enforces rules at all. But it does burn many undead*. Which are commonly beings or bodies which have been made move with negative energy or necromantic magic."

"There is clearly something I am missing from how to read these sigils without making ones cognition completely stuck. Care to explain in what way they lead to this interpretation about the local Judgment? Also I must admit, it is still quite unclear to me how sun or sunlight related to any Gods.

*: living dead

After carefully copying all of the sigils present... and then breaking some of them down into component sub-sigils, after some of their notes begin to smoulder, Mr Cards nods in satisfaction before pulling out a vial of something caustic. A quick splash and some bubbling later, the sigils they painted on the walls are gone. They then take down their improvised array of prisms, close a couple of the Mirrorcatch boxes, tucking them back into their Robe, and then cast open the curtains (and more awkwardly tear down their improvised second curtain as light floods into the third box).

"Yes, I did notice some references to those Laws* regarding death, and found references to the Void interesting," agrees Mr Cards, "Is there a significant local power which opposes light and life, and wields 'negative energy' and 'necromantic magic' in violation of those Laws? That may explain the obsession of your own Judgment towards that sort of Law, which in turn explains why so many other things that would ordinarily be prohibited."

They do not ask overtly about the Liberation of Night. That is not their chosen side, but it would at least be informative if it could be demonstrated that the more odious restrictions imposed by the Judgments could be loosened by killing some of them, thereby diverting much of the attention of the rest towards countering the resulting darkness...

"As to gods, in my experience, there are three categories of beings called divine," lectures Mr Cards as they continue their work, taking a moment to collect the third box before they head to the desk, and begin etching some of the more useful-seeming sigils into lead plates, "There are those gods which, if they indeed exist and have power, rarely use it in any obvious way, while yet retaining a priesthood and a religion. There are many such gods in my own world, and indeed the Anglican Church, the most politically powerful religious organization in London, follows a 'trinity' of such gods. Alternatively, there are those gods that are obviously present and exert significant and potent powers upon the world; for example, the god called Stone by zailors**, or the Mountain of Light by the denizens of the Elder Continent, whose power heals and grants great longevity to the people of that continent... and to those lucky few bearing holy relics made from her body. Beyond that are the Judgments, whose power is clearly greater still, but which are not generally known to respond to mortal entreaties. Through approximately the same method I just now employed, the commands of the Judgments can be read and understood... although the resulting sigils would be far denser and more complex if I performed this procedure with the light of my home's Judgment! Still, know that they are not mere instructions; the light of the Judgments is literally Law, and that which is exposed to that light is forcibly subjected to that Law. Not all agree that they ought to be considered divine, but in my opinion, if the Judgments are not divine, nothing else is. Is your own experience with gods and religion different?"

"As for reading the Correspondence without significant damage to one's own mind, it is a long path with few shortcuts. There are certain artifacts*** that allow Correspondence sigils to sit more comfortably in one's memory; I began my studies after recovering a set of them from an ancient tomb. Violant****, the colour of connections, lingers in memory far longer than other colours; by writing and reading those sigils in violant, I absorb them into myself much more permanently than through lesser sorts of study. The Correspondence can be taught to some degree, and I have provided lesser scholars with lessons at times, though anything beyond the basics requires a more personal touch. Everything beyond that is a matter of hard work, physical and mental pain, and respecting one's own limits while carefully avoiding death and madness. Although..." here they chuckle dryly, "Perhaps it is merely a question of which Devils are selected for diplomatic positions, but the Devils I am best acquainted with have generally been excellent linguists, and some of them had managed a quite excellent command of the Correspondence in their own right... although for obvious reasons, they preferred to convey the Correspondence through dance rather than writing."

*: this is Law in the sense of both a divine edict, impossible to challenge or disobey, and of natural law, the way the universe itself works.

**: sailors, but underground

***: ancient historical objects with notable properties

****: violant is also associated with bloodshed, necessity, and treaties

There is interested observation towards Cards' work. They clearly know what they are doing, are not hiding it, and Mordessa is observing as much information as is feasible.

She will keep up the cooperative manner. Humiliating a possible slave by dealing unfairly is very Asmodean, but humiliating Good powers who later contest for the same slave is even more Asmodean.

"There are some significant local powers who wield those. But in fact I would start my explanation from the fact that there is a very significant local power, named Pharasma, who could be called obsessed with her own sense of meta-law. She is one of the ancient powerful Gods, and her most significant tenets are that undead most not be raised, and the dead must be sorted. She rarely spends her power on other objectives nowadays."

The tone here is not quite lecturial. But there is effort to resemble the kind of discussion that could happen between two experts of different domains.

"The sorting of dead uses axes in two dimensions. Good vs Evil. And Law vs Chaos. These are qualities that are tracked for every conscious living being during their entire life (the exact details of the tracking are not known, but it seems that Pharasma invested heavily in creating the system). At the point of ones death, there is a period of time where interventions are possible, but after that period one is judged by Pharasma's judgment. There are nine possible judgements based on the possible combinations of Good, Neutral, Evil and Lawful, Neutral and Good."

"We would not usually have such a categorization for divine beings. They are mostly of one type, and altough they have differences in how powerful they are and in what things they affect, often the intervention methods are the same. Many Gods have priesthoods and religions. They basically always provide those with power, and varying levels of intervention. Godly law is mostly applied through the Gods followers on the ground, and rarely through direct intervention. I am quite certain no church presently operating on Golarion names themselves the Anglican church. I am not aware of any dense Godly being whose light is literally Law."

An eyebrow raises,

"For obvious reasons? I must admit, a Devil dancing, to communicate in a language of Gods, seems most unfamiliar a circumstance to me. I do see it plausible that Devils would be more aligned with Correspondence than a plain mortal race in the manners of humans would be."

"And as a clarification, is it normal for your worlds colors to have magic-resembling effects? Are they magical or are their properties physical in nature? Do multiple of them have names with such complex undertones? There exist various artifacts that allow for normal and scientific thought to sit more firmly in one's memory, but I would be quite surprised if something to help with Correspondence wouldn't need special crafting. "

This sort of sharing isn't particularly odd, from Mr Cards' perspective. They have a habit of apparent openness and generosity, especially when it comes to information that is 'common knowledge'... and their own definition of the term is rather expansive! Hell is, of course, an adversarial negotiating partner, and its goodwill is certainly not to be assumed. Still, although any fact known to any loyal Devil will likely become known by Hell in general, and any fact known to Hell is probably known by any loyal Devil worth interacting with, the bureaucracy of Hell is less perfect than it pretends to be, and there are exploitable gaps. Information unknown to Hell is a prize to be sold dearly, but information unknown to a given Devil is merely a personal favour. The game of implied obligations is a risky one to play with Devils, but ultimately one that is no riskier than the Great Game itself... and in this case, the shape of their collocutor's ignorance is nearly as enlightening as the answers they provide.

Much like the Bazaar itself, Hell and its Devils came from another world... but there's something odd about the responses here. In their previous conversations with Devils, they'd only had the vaguest of hints about what the Devils had done prior to coming to Earth, and none at all about other worlds. Similarly, the Deviless herself had stated that: 'It is basically unheard of here for transit methods that work within a world to work cross-worlds', implying both that this Deviless had knowledge of other worlds, and of those transport methods that did work between them. Given all that information... well, it's not impossible that the same Hell is behind the Devils they are familiar with and this new Deviless. It would not at all be unheard of for Hell to simply declare that the relevant information was not to be shared, and to make that stick. But it is also possible that there might be multiple Hells, like beehives on different islands bearing different species of bee.

Either way, their earlier intuitions about what sorts of information would and would not be 'safe' to share might are likely incorrect. Information unknown to Hell was a prize to be sold dearly, but secrets Hell had agreed to keep could be nearly as valuable to individual Devils... especially to those less loyal to the infernal bureaucracy. Still, even with Hell itself, information for information was a perfectly valid trade, and they were indeed learning quite a bit of it, even as they have collected quite a few valuable Correspondence sigils from their brief and improvised experiment. They'd have to reassess carefully, but they had already committed to sharing certain information, and might as well continue to share certain other tidbits in at least a tit for tat level of reciprocity.

"Yes, there are significant Laws regarding death in my own world as well," agrees Mr Cards, to keep the conversation moving along, "As a result, those who have previously died at any point quickly find sunlight to be rather permanently fatal. That was, in fact, my first concern upon arrival, but it seems clear that things are rather more flexible here. I will admit that you seem better informed of what lies on the far side of the River* than I. In my experience, those who reach the far shores of the River do not return... but the Boatman, who ferries the dead along the River, does not do so reliably. If defeated in games of skill or chance, or sufficiently bribed, he can instead ferry the dead closer to the near shore of the River. From that point, those with a reasonably intact body to return to may return by their own strength and will... and any medical attention given to a freshly-dead corpse makes that process easier, notably improving the odds of its owner's return to life."

They are noticeably surprised that the reasons why Devils might communicate in dance are not in fact obvious in this context. For a moment, they consider attempting a reply via dance to illustrate the point, but decide to reserve that particular card for later. If nothing else, they are not quite confident enough in their command of The Rose Giveth to be confident in gaining more information than they would lose... especially given that their body concealing Robe likewise conceals much of the subtlety and nuance of that infernal language, and attempting to dance a message while wearing it would be akin to attempting to give a speech while gagged.

"I have noticed that Devils are typically not as negatively affected by exposure to the Correspondence as Humans often are," they agree with a nod, "This does not necessarily imply greater skill, merely that the risks are somewhat lower... though there are humans willing to take far greater risks than most Devils would countenance. As for colours, I know of seven with significant non-optical properties, though I would not describe those properties as being topologically interesting. Of the seven, I am most familiar with the properties and applications of violant; for matters regarding the other colours, I would generally consult with a specialist. For example, prolific Monster-Hunters** are often observed to have weapons and body parts stained in peligin***, the colour of the deepest zee****. Though I have personally fought and killed a fair number of monstrous creatures, it is more a hobby than a passion, and I often have better things to do with my time. As such, I am not privy to the deeper secrets of that fraternity, and could only offer rumours and guesswork as to the precise effects of peligin... though it is obvious enough that creatures with peligin coloration are likely to be unusually dangerous and hard to kill."

*: A not-quite-metaphorical reference to death; perhaps the River of Souls?

**: Ambiguous, interpretable both as "those who hunt monsters" and as "monsters that hunt".

***: peligin is also associated with drowning, monstrosity, and the River

****: a sunless, underground sea

By this point, Mr Cards has mostly finished their work, and the bulk of their notes and plaques have already been packed away... but while in the process of doing so, they tilt their head, as if remembering something, and turn to Mordessa, adopting a slightly apologetic tone, "Ah, but I have been impolite. Those who I interact with generally understand the significance of my Robe on sight, and know of me by reputation if not in person. If nothing else, I can usually rely on being introduced to any relevant exceptions, by some servant, herald, or social peer. But since none of those conditions apply here..."

They turn away slightly, and there is a brief flurry of movement, an instant in which an especially keen gaze might notice them simultaneously taking off a glove, putting on a ring, pinning a slightly rusted old badge to the front of their Robe, replacing the silver snuffbox at their side with a leather bound book, changing into a different pair of shoes, taking off their mask, and allowing the strange ambulatory hat to leap off the bedpost and perch itself jauntily atop their head, all in less time than it would take for an expert duellist to draw a blade. In nearly the same motion, they step forwards, extending a pale hand with long nails (which seem at once to be carefully manicured and dangerously sharp).

"...allow me to introduce myself," they continue, though their high voice has become noticeably more pleasant and compelling, "I am known as Mr Cards, one of the Masters of the Bazaar; responsible for matters of gambling, probability, statistics, unexpected circumstances, and railroads*. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

The overall effect is not dissimilar to that of a quite competent but magically unenhanced individual casually donning a Headband of Charisma +6 in mid-conversation... if anything, perhaps even more so. Still, in the absence of the concealing mask, Mordessa's magically enhanced vision allows her to see beneath the hood of the Robe of Mr Cards, revealing an androgynous and unnaturally pale humanoid face. Their features are subtly exaggerated and inhuman; the long upturned nose, the wide and dark eyes, the large and thick-lipped mouth and the sharp teeth behind it, the thick eyebrows curling upwards to meet the hairline, the large ears rising to the hint of a point. Any of these traits alone could perhaps fall within normal human variation, but they definitely seem unusual in combination.

*: An experienced planar traveller might recognize the reference to technological secrets Axis is not permitted to share. Otherwise, all that remains is the sense of roads with thick metal bars added to facilitate the passage of specialized carts.

The outfit change is pretty impressive from a Golarionites perspective. The physical look here does have an eerie resemblance to an outsider-in-progress. Offer to handshake is promptly met with an extension of the devilless' hand, which is covered by a glove of seemingly decent make. (Altough it does not compete in it's fashionability with Cards' persuasion gloves.)

"Pleasure to make your acquantaince, Mr Cards. I'm Mordessa, the head of this outpost and chief of staff for the local Chelish forces, specializing in logistical matters. And like mentioned earlier, I happen to be a Devil."

"I must admit, I have never heard of anyone bribing a boatman at the river of souls. It is possible we are speaking of different rivers. But that would imply that the distance and difference between our worlds is quite significantly large."

"The example about peligin is most interesting. And the colors you already applied did seem quite applicable."

"I must clarify, is your uhm... physical shape also a feature of you being a Master of the Bazaar?"

A tinge of being off-her-feet with Cards' outpouring Persuasive aura can be noticed. Mordessa was clearly more diplomatically adjusted for the previous presentation.

Mr Cards' handshake is firm and professional; no over-eager pumping or oafish contests of strength.

"Chelish; a reference to the local government?" asks Mr Cards, sprinkling in the clarifying question upon the opportunity, "Clearly one which is also on diplomatic terms with Hell, if they permit a Devil to run one of their military outposts."

"As for the River," they shrug artfully, deciding on a more Persuasive reflection that they were entirely correct not to elaborate further as to their more personal relationship with the Boatman, "I expect that differences in local conditions and applicable Laws are responsible for said difference. Perhaps I'll have time to look into the matter more thoroughly before I return."

The question about their physical appearance makes them pause slightly, looking down at their hand; having put away the fanged gloves they were wearing earlier, their hands are bare but for a gold signet ring, which bears an elaborate image of a crown. The fingers and nails are on the long side for the human norm, but are clearly not the talons that their fellow Masters boast, though the large and apparently hunchbacked form of their Robe would be a topic worthy of question in itself. Still, this Devil does seem to have noticed more than most would, giving rise to a particular hypothesis. Their hood was still in place, so their face and expressions ought to be hidden, but a simple test ought to confirm if that was untrue. "Those two topics are not unrelated," they reply in a serious tone, and pause as if to consider how best to answer the question... before suddenly making an appallingly silly face, scrunching up their nose, peeling back both lips into an open-mouthed grin, and sticking their tongue out to wiggle mockingly.

Damnation. This is but one of the costs of having a Devil handle first contact with a potential slave diplomatic entity. Mordessa does not hope that the interaction goes well, for she has been trained out of hoping. But she does shortly pray to Asmodeus in her mind that the outcome won't be undesirable for His highness.

"Yes, Cheliax is on quite diplomatic terms with Hell. It could be said Hell is an avid sponsor of Cheliax."

"Any new information pertaining to what we call the River of Souls could be compensated highly. The River is a matter of high interest for all of Golarion."

Will save failure. Sense motive success (Cannot conceal having noticed that. But can try to conceal why, and understood what is being attempted here.)

Mordessa wiggles her tongue back, neutrally. "Not unrelated, you say?"

Unlike the Chelish norm, Mr Cards often doesn't bother to hide their emotions... partly because they can simply conceal their expressions behind illusions or masks at need, but more importantly because Mithridacy is a discipline of deliberate revelations, of using truth as a weapon. When dealing with an adversary able to discern subtle hints, one may attempt to hide all signs and attempt to remain enigmatic... or to intentionally use such leaks as a trail of breadcrumbs leading in a desired direction, made all the more powerful for that the hints themselves are based on true facts, even true facts about one's own self and feelings, should those facts be supportive of the intended narrative. Nine tenths of the truth, combined with the target's own misconceptions, are often enough to usefully mislead. Of course, it helps to have a good model of the target, and to think up a plan in advance... but this wouldn't be the first time they've had to improvise, and they are indeed still keeping most of the key details back. There are plenty of wrong destinations that can be reached from a broad picture of the facts, and they don't ever feel obligated to steer a representative of a rival power to the whole truth.

The triumph of having confirmed their hypothesis is real, as is the slight embarrassment of having been caught doing something undignified, and both quickly give way to a wry smile at Mordessa's response to their ploy. They had not quite expected that to work, and may have to think a little more carefully about what other true facts might be revealed through the application of local techniques to their words, behaviour, and possessions. Still, they don't have enough information about what might be revealed through those methods just yet, and so shouldn't waste too much time on speculations, until such a time as another hint drops.

"That is some interesting vision you have," comments Mr Cards, "I would ordinarily have expected that no one could see under the hood of my Robe without special lenses. Another application of Topological Complexity*, perhaps? Regardless, it is no great secret that the Masters of the Bazaar are not in fact mortal humans, given that Masters and the Echo Bazaar came to their current place many thousands of years ago. It is also somewhat well known that the total number of Masters has occasionally changed, though details as to precisely when, why, and how remain closely guarded secrets. Given what you yourself have observed... suffice it to say that you would not be the first Devil to notice that there are more Masters at this time than there were a decade ago."

The smugness in this last statement is also quite real, and not at all hidden.

"Now, with that matter out of the way," they say, as they take a step back and return to gathering up the few remaining scraps of their work, "I previously agreed to provide you with a basic explanation of how I came to be here once I was finished with my experiment, and I am indeed finished. Would you prefer to continue that discussion here, or elsewhere?"

*: Magic, of course, though Mr Cards has evidently managed to misinterpret the mathematical term used to denote the strength of magical effects for the term used to describe magic itself.

Mithridacy is a most Asmodean flavor for causing non-truth in one's conversation partner. Cards might have unfamiliar skill in it for a Golarionite, but for a trained Asmodean significant applications of it could still be noticeable. However, for now, Cards has no sense of being seen thorugh, besides the literal interpretation of the phrase.

"One could say that my eyes have magical* in-built extra lensing in the form of vision enhancement. It lets me see through most types of concealment. This level of sight enchancement is not common, but many military installments contain individuals with a temporary version of the ability available.

"So you, the Masters, and the Echo Bazaar are the local leadership in where you come from? That would track from the fact that you listed areas of activities you are personally responsible for."

"If you would prefer we can also use a room furnished for visitors. But this one is also suitable discussing. Would you like refreshments?"

*The word doesn't have the topology part here. But the distance between it and what Cards was saying is not far.

That sort of vision is a troublesome ability in an opponent, but a potentially-interesting enhancement to acquire for one's self. Not all of the unusual skills Mr Cards has acquired seemed incredibly useful at first glance, largely because they were not all useful to them in their initial stages. Indeed, they had neglected pursuit of mastery of the Shapeling Arts until the Starved Men had used those arts to outright invade the city! Still, they have already formed an intention to obtain some information on or training in the local science of Topological Complexity before departing this world, if at all possible. Even if the only significant effects of that skill was translation of unfamiliar languages and the perception of otherwise hidden items, it would still be an immeasurable boon to their research... and since it was implied to also be useful for inter-world transportation as well, there were likely many more applications. Topological Complexity might even be nearly as versatile as the Red Science itself!

Still, there are niceties to observe, and sensible bargaining positions to adopt. They do not expect Hell to be a generous trading partner, after all. Inconvenient, then, that they will likely find it difficult to communicate with or learn from the natives of this world without the assistance from a local expert familiar with the translation ability provided by Topological Complexity... and further inconvenient that the only such expert they know of is a Deviless. But perhaps they can cut such a deal anyways; the desires of Devils are well-known, and Mr Cards fully expects that they are skilled and wealthy enough to reach some form of mutually-beneficial agreement. "That does sound useful," they admit, "It sounds as though there may be certain items and information worthy of more formal trade between our worlds... but I will inquire further into such possibilities after discharging my other obligations." And after learning a little more about the state of local knowledge.

"Ah, not quite," corrects Mr Cards with a tolerant smile at the question of leadership; the misapprehension is a common one, after all. "The Echo Bazaar operates as a great hub of trade and commerce, and under her influence, the Masters of the Bazaar have economic control over London, not political control. Our rights regarding London were purchased directly from its Empress some five and a half decades ago... in exchange for a significant service that only the Masters were able to provide... and Her Enduring Majesty still formally retains her position as head of state. As per the terms of that agreement, nearly every legal commercial transaction of any type in London and its controlled territories falls under the oversight of the Masters of the Bazaar, is denominated in the Echoes issued by the Bazaar, and the taxes on those transactions are owed to the Master with the relevant portfolio of trade. We retain various other powers, such as the authority to appoint the Special Constables who enforce commercial regulations and seize certain contraband goods, and I will not deny that our wealth gives us a great deal of influence... but no, we are not responsible for the day-to-day governance of London." Which is to say, 'yes, we are the local leaders', but in a convoluted legalistic way that seems to imply a Lawful Evil sort of governance.

"Refreshments would be much appreciated," agrees Mr Cards amiably, "Anything safe for mortal humans to consume ought to be similarly safe for my own consumption. Just allow me a moment to finish collecting my things, and we can be off."

They finish gathering up their scattered papers and plaques, before doing a quick scan of the room for other hazardous or discarded items, and track down a couple other miscellaneous scraps of clothing, material, or equipment that they had neglected to tuck away, most notably including the third and final Mirrorcatch box, which has properly absorbed as full a dose of unfiltered Golarion sunlight as it can get while remaining indoors. They linger a moment at the windowsill, taking in the sight of a properly sunlit vista for the first time in years... before getting back to business. They dismiss the importance of the Nervercold Brass screws left embedded into the stone above the window (perhaps a handful of pennies worth of material, hardly worth the trouble to extract and reuse)... and entirely fail to spot a mutinous scarf that has independently concealed itself within the bedroom's chest of drawers (and which now lurks unseen, an ambush predator awaiting its next victim). Satisfied, they turn back to Mordessa, ready to follow the Deviless to a more comfortable setting.

"Yes of course. Prioritize as you may."

"I do beg your pardon for the misunderstanding. It does certainly sound like a position of significant influence."

Mordessa decides to order her staff by voice instead of telepathy, to hide the possibility of telepathy from their guest. She opens the door of the room, and an unfamiliar to Cards language is spoken;

"Alice, please prepare human-edible refreshments in the nice negotiation chamber."

Mordessa observes as cards collects their items. The cleaning team will certainly have instructions to collect and contain everything left by Cards for extraction and experimentation. Altough the current orders are to keep the outpost staff acting as-if this was only a visit from a foreign negotiation partner, to minimize change of anything happening that would trigger suspicions from their most dignified guest.

A moment passes, and Mordessa gestures Cards to follow. They walk through the fortress. The windows that point outside the forts inner courtyard show a desolate, snowy landscape. The landscape seems to have an atmosphere of it's own. A tension.

In the internals of the fortress, Cards' honed skills could certainly notice that there is an aesthetic to the whole thing. It's quite gothic and less modern than he is used to. The precise work and features of the architecture seem more designed to present wealth, power, and authority, than an architects whims.

After a couple hallways there is an open door for them to walk through. Inside is a room with pleasant seeming chairs (for normal humanoid chair-users, at least) next to a fireplace, with the chairs not pointing directly to each other. There are some unfamiliar decorations, but the quality is immaculate. The cleaning work has been done meticulously.

Mordessa sits at one of the chairs, and gestures for Cards to sit as well. And very shortly after their arrival a servant walks in and out, leaving a tray on the short table within arms length of the chairs.

"There is tea, coffee, water, and do try out the pastries." The pastries look colourful and fresh, there are small slices of orange and greenish-covered cake, biscuits, and something filled with cream.

Before sitting down before the spread, Mr Cards fishes a bottle from their luggage and offers it to Mordessa. The label features a grinning skull wearing a short flat hat, and reads:

Death's Cap 1889
Finest Amanita Sherry
(not for human consumption)

"A guest-gift," they explain, "In acknowledgement of your hospitality. Alas, it is too poisonous for my own safe enjoyment, but I understand that Devils lack that particular vulnerability. It is highly prized among the Devils I am familiar with; by the cartload, it has been known to fetch a price in souls. Perhaps you will likewise find it to suit your own tastes?"

So saying, they sit down to enjoy the meal. Tea and coffee are certainly both familiar. Pastries made from fresh Surface ingredients are certainly not impossible to come by, in the Neath, but would constitute a richer spread than one could commonly expect. Mordessa will notice that before Cards tries any item for the first time, they take a moment to deeply inhale its aroma, before gingerly extending their tongue to take a slight lick. Even without specialized equipment, their command of Kataleptic Toxicology is sufficient to let them notice nearly any drug or poison by scent; by taste, they can even identify most. They don't seriously expect anything of the sort to occur, but a certain degree of caution is entirely automatic by this point.

"Most interesting. I do not happen to be familiar with this manner of drink, but am thankful of the guest-gift. And of course if you would prefer something more intoxicating for a refreshment we have options, but I do avoid offering them proactively since in a negotiation that could be construed as manipulative. Especially since, as a side effect of the common poison immunity, Devils are often quite resistant to alcohol."

The meal does not appear poisoned, and as expected is made from things that would constitute as surface ingredients in the Neath. The pastries contain butter, eggs, flour, sugar, and various spices giving them pleasant aromas. The Devilless grabs a cup of coffee for herself.

"I must ask, as a segue from the earlier mention of eyesight, do you happen to have enhanced senses in matters of smell or taste? It seems you are quite methodical."

"And you mentioned having an explanation or a theory for your arrival?"

"I tend to hold a similar position," agrees Mr Cards between bites of delicious pastry, eating in a less delicate but still refined manner now that they've finished their initial assessment, "Intoxicants are best left until after the serious work has been done... although Mr Wines would, of course, disagree. As to enhanced senses... such is not at all uncommon in London, especially among the upper classes. Not everyone has the fortitude and resources to properly pursue the deeper studies of Kataleptic Toxicology*, and my own skills in that regard are not at the level of an expert Licentiate**, but anyone prominent enough to even pretend to move in such circles ought to at least learn to identify the dozen most common poisons by smell and taste."

Technically true, though misleading; the best of the Bazaar's Licentiates are indeed more skilled at Kataleptic Toxicology than Mr Cards, but the only reason why their skills could be considered lesser is that their focus lies elsewhere. Chemistry in general, and poison in the specific is a tool that Mr Cards has access to, rather than their primary implement... but given access to the same equipment, they could certainly do the job.

"But to return to the topic of interest... as I mentioned when I first arrived, I came here through Parabola***; the domain of the Fingerkings****, the realm of that which Is-Not," they explain, "Perhaps you know it by a different name? I refer to that place which exists within dreams, within the grip of madness, and behind every mirror. All things that do not exist are nonetheless there, sometimes spawning nightmares to haunt the sleep of dreamers, sometimes entrapping minds in lasting delusion, sometimes bargaining with the unwary or desperate to pass into the waking world. To keep a mirror in one's bedroom implies either that one is confident in one's ability to defend one's mind against such threats, that one wishes to consistently experience more vivid dreams despite the risk... or that one is partner, pawn, or prey to the Fingerkings. Even those who intentionally keep such mirrors generally keep them covered or guarded when not in use, unless they intend to leave such a discreet portal open."

Of course, a Deviless should know all this; Mordessa's reactions to these facts will be rather informative.

*: Ambiguous, interpretable both as "the comprehension of poisons", and "the poisoning of comprehension".

**: Licensed assassin.

***: Literally just the shape of the curve, but it has the connotation of an upward-curving horizon.

****: Finger-kings is a literal meaning, but translation magic also conveys this as 'dream-serpents'.

"Rarely I have heard of such ways to identify poison. We have a simple spell* for poison detection. It is also common for persons of importance to hire poison tasters."

"I am quite certain that a realm behind every mirror is not known in this world. Especially not one that would have reason to be named after the shape of a curve... We know of some realms whose construction is quite around their core concept, including ones of fire, water, air and earth. The creatures you describe sound more plausibly something one could meet in our world. Altough no single one known by me matches this description. Mirrors are not considered a vulnerability here."

The read Cards gets here is that Mordessa seems to be honest and almost forthcoming; she doesn't seem to be sharing all the information that could be related (which might be an implausible task), but it seems she is sharing her best hypotheses.

*A solution low in required topological complexity

That is definitely the right tone to take with Mr Cards, who finds themselves naturally inclined to both speculate and reciprocate.

"And yet, here I am," they point out, "I shall assume that you are otherwise competent and have not been ignorantly neglecting a commonplace hazard to the lives and sanity of your own forces. Therefore, something unusual has happened to permit my arrival here. I am not myself a Silverer*, and would not pretend to declare what can and can not occur within that place which stands apart from the real, but my last venture into Parabola was mildly unusual. From my end, I had ventured into Parabola for hunting purposes, having felt the need to seek out a monster dangerous enough to be worthy of my time. While travelling, I became somewhat lost... an ever-present hazard in Parabola, to be sure... and found myself in an unfamiliar part of the Is-Not, an experience that has grown rarer as my understanding of that realm has grown. While there, I encountered one of the larger Fingerkings. I approached to speak with it, and it attacked without a word... mildly unusual in the absence of declared hostilities, for they are ever eager to bargain. Most unusually, the Fingerking I faced had a mirror trapped in its mouth... or the mirror had somehow became its mouth... and the moment that mirror touched me, I was expelled here. Navigable Parabolan mirrors are in my experience firmly fixed in place; they are hard to move from the Parabolan side, and any force sufficient to move them would generally destroy them instead... and I would have judged them to be even more formidable and immovable to the body of a Fingerking than to anything else in that realm. If that misadventure had ended with my being expelled in Moulin, or Polythreme, or even Vienna, I would have simply concluded that I had encountered a great power among the lords of the Is-Not. But a door must be opened from both sides, and I am here instead of in any more familiar place. Unless there is some similarly unusual phenomenon nearby which might otherwise weaken secure boundaries between realms, only so many possibilities remain."

Mr Cards pauses for a moment, taking a sip of tea as they consider how much more to reveal. The key question, of course, is whether there is one Hell, or many Hells... but that ought to be a simple one to have answered. The very thought of division among Hell would be seen as heretical to the Devils they are aware of, however cagey they might ordinarily be about their origins. The right forking question might reveal something interesting, more than worth whatever tidbits they've dropped thus far, and so they deploy the conversational gambit boldly, "I might speculate further, but the manner in which the pathway to Parabola is opened is not common knowledge, and indeed concerns one of the secrets of Hell, which I happened to learn in my prior dealings with your kind. That you do not know of this was at first surprising to me, but I have observed such surprising gaps in the knowledge of Devils before, and have some ideas about what might cause it. If you would hear more from me on this matter, then, tell me which of these scenarios seems more likely to you. Could it be that the gap between worlds and stars is as difficult and dangerous for Devils to traverse as for any other being, and that this distance fractures Hell's influence into innumerable tiny pieces, each focused on only its own world, and able to communicate with the others only through great difficulty? Or is it instead more likely that there is only one Hell, and a secret known to Hell but unknown to the Devils of one world is a secret which Hell is bound by treaty not to reveal to the people of that world, including via its local agents?"

Of course, Mr Cards is underselling their own knowledge of the causes of such ignorance in Devils, having personally arranged for a representative of Hell to be tricked into nullifying a certain old treaty, the consequences of which stripped Hell of its collective knowledge of one of its old enemies. As satisfying as that might have been as a matter of personal revenge, it was equally a matter of good foreign policy, in that classically British sense: when presented with an internal dispute within a rival power, it's always worth supporting the weaker faction... especially if able to do so in a deniable fashion, without undue diplomatic repercussions.

*: Professional dream-guide

"The way you described the realm's relation to dreams makes me think of the Dimension of Dreams. It's a place that can mostly be accessed by going through the Ethereal realm, and as far as I know has no specific relation to mirrors. But it has many dream-like inhabitants, some more nightmareish than others. I am not aware of some of them being considered rulers there, though. If you are interested in deeper-than-hypothettical answers a visit there might be useful to prove the uniformity, similarity, one being a sub-region of the other or them actually being unrelated in the end."

"Your explanation does leave it plausible that a lord of the Is-Not could have already found a way or visited this realm earlier. The effect of an unusual phenomena cannot be ruled out either; we are located relatively close to a place called the Worldwound, which is a literal hole between this world and a world called the Abyss. It is an infinite world that contains almost exclusively hostile Demons. And I have to admit, it seems unlikely to me that specifically the mirror you used for entry was opened from our side, because the fortress has security and no intruders have been detected today, and regular staff would not do something like that without asking their superiors."

Cards' formulation happens to quite easily lead to some simple misconceptions and also to more complicated hypotheses.

"Hell, and other afterlives, definitively contain sorts of information that is by treaty locked to some subset of worlds. Advanced technology or magic would be one form of information that might be contained in such ways. But it also seems plausible that your Hell could be quantitatively different from ours. For example, you didn't draw any connection between the River and Hell. In our world, the normal way for mortals, or any other being without means of advanced travel, to reach Hell would be to die and get sent there after passing through the River of Souls. Would you happen to know the name or ruling structure of the Hell you are speaking of? The Hell I come from is owned and ruled by Asmodeus, Lord of Hell, and sub-areas are ruled by His servants, Lord of First, Lord of Second, et cetera."

"If a Dimension of Dreams is known to you, it strains credulity that it could be entirely unrelated to Parabola," allows Mr Cards, "The experiment would be well worth my time, as if brought there, it would not be difficult for me to confirm the connection. If Glasswork* functions in that place, there must be some relation... though tracing a route between the two may be a considerably longer task. Should a Fingerking have visited this realm earlier, it would almost certainly have been by possessing a dreamer or traveller. If there is indeed a connection between Parabola and your Dimension of Dreams, then it would be possible for a being thus possessed to make it easier for other beings of the Is-Not to follow in their path, making what may have been an accident into a more certain route. As to the specifics of that action..."

A moment of weighing, a conclusion that Mordessa has indeed revealed enough information to be worthy of this piece of intelligence. After all, it is arguably tied to their original agreement to suggest ways in which how such incursions might be prevented.

"The path to Parabola was opened by a pact between the Fingerkings and Hell. I am not privy to the exact wording of that pact," they say (somewhat misleadingly, since certain myths line up too well with what fragments of Hellish scripture they have accessed to be coincidence), "But I am aware that some part of Hell's obligations require that its Devil produce and distribute a drug known as Prisoner's Honey. I understand that this obligation has become quite profitable to Hell, though the specifics of that trade agreement from our end is handled by my fellow Master, Mr Spices. Regardless... in small quantities, consumption of Prisoner's Honey sends one's mind shallowly into Parabola, as if in vivid and lucid dream... where it can be more easily influenced by the Is-Not. In larger quantities, it can send one bodily into Parabola, through a mirror, and one who passes through a mirror thus can bring physical items and possessing entities through with them. As this is an old agreement, the Fingerkings have a great many agents of their own, and can easily smuggle more through any mirror they are aware of. Not every reflective surface is equally suitable for passage through to Parabola, as untried mirrors in new locations often lead to more dangerous parts of that realm... but a mirror that has seen successful passage is more easily found from Parabola thereafter, and it is not a complex application of Glasswork to use one mirror's position in Parabola to find other nearby mirrors. It would not take an infiltration of your Fortress to permit even accidental passage... merely a single successful trip through any nearby mirror."

"The chief precautions against this infiltration," they conclude, "Are to cover, guard, and regulate the use of mirrors, especially mirrors large enough to permit a human to pass through them, or in more sensitive locations. Additionally, it is useful to check the eyes of potentially susceptible individuals for a Viric** glow, which the ignorant sometimes mistake for simple green light; this serves as a somewhat reliable indication of outright possession, though mere influence is far harder to detect."

As to their bait, Mordessa's response is at once disappointing and interesting. Though she seems surprisingly willing to accept either possibility, she did reveal that her Hell is a monarchy... and specifically mentioned the name 'Asmodeus'. Not the same Hell, then... at the very least, the Devils they know of are certainly not a monarchy at this time, wherever it was they came from originally! And though they have certainly offered various aid and favours to the dethroned aristocrats of the Hell they are familiar with, they have no particular desire to see that faction triumph, and the support of foreign Devils seems likely to lead to complex and undesirable consequences. But perhaps... it would be useful to sow a seed of confusion here.

"As I had mentioned previously," begins Mr Cards, subtly invoking their talent for Mithridacy as they focus themselves on ways in which what they claim might be seen as true, as they watch Mordessa's own reactions for hints that they are along the right path, "You seem better informed than I as to what lies beyond the River." (After all, you claim certain knowledge of what lies after final death, and I merely have hints and visions of what the Boatman may become able to do in the future, now that I have fixed Death.)

"From a scientific perspective, such matters are mysterious and unprovable, since those who do not return from death are unable to provide evidence of what comes afterwards." (True, since vague memories of fleeting glimpses of the far shores while dead are hardly proper evidence.)

"More to the point, the Devils of my own world make far vaguer claims than you have on the nature and significance of the soul, for obvious reasons. The common claim is that the soul is a curiosity, a trifle, even a burden. They then offer a nominal sum to purchase the soul of any who are convinced by their arguments, claiming that such a transaction has no significant consequences in this life. These claims often prove persuasive, especially among the poor and the desperate, who often find even a rather trivial offer of immediate wealth more persuasive than a theological argument." (True, though much of Mr Cards' obvious contempt for such folly is lingering bitterness towards their own past foolishness.)

"More significant and powerful individuals are courted more carefully by Devils, and offered far greater prices, but the principle argument is the same... that there are no significant worldly consequences to the sale, and that there may indeed be some professional advantage in making such a deal. Solicitors***, for example, are commonly acknowledged to benefit considerably from such pacts, to the point that it is considered a stereotype of the profession." (Also true, though the additional detail is meant to lend verisimilitude to the proceeding argument.)

"This strategy has worked rather well for Hell, despite rival claims by the politically-powerful Anglican Church that those who lead wicked lives or sell their souls will be condemned to torment in Hell after their final death, while the pious and virtuous will instead ascend to Heaven." (These things are indeed so claimed. Mr Cards has more specific knowledge of Law Furnaces and the uses of souls than such laypersons, but that isn't relevant to their argument; they're illustrating a valid strategy used by Devils to claim souls in order to frame a degree of ignorance as to what happens afterwards.)

"This religious claim does indeed seem to align with your own description of the dead passing onto Hell or other afterlives beyond the River, though I would not previously have considered it a reliable claim, as I did not generally believe that the Anglicans were correct in their claims regarding the true nature of reality," (Despite social obligations, Mr Cards was not much of a churchgoer prior to selling their own soul, except as was necessary to fit in to polite society and avoid scandal... and though by 'previously' they more precisely mean 'at one point in my own past', as some of that disbelief had faded on unexpectedly recovering their soul at the hands of a surprisingly capable Church-backed espionage operation, they were and are not quite the sort of person willing to wholly embrace a faith-based 'God works in mysterious ways' argument as justification for the lack of more overt evidence of divine power. Not after having seen the Mountain of Light, at least.)

"Regardless, I had considered such things largely irrelevant to my own self, as I do not expect to permanently die. Among other things I have considerable assurances regarding my own survival for at least the next couple of centuries, beyond which point I expect to be able to access greater protections still." (The point is to present this as a comparatively unimportant subject to them personally... but this is still actually true, on reflection. Once they have properly become a Curator, Mr Cards expects a lifespan at least in the tens of thousands of years, if not improved further by the Hesperidean Cider. And even beyond their own longevity as a Curator, Mr Cards will return to Irem; this is true prophecy, if anything in the Neath is. They will come once again to the Crossroads beneath the Seven-Serpent. There, they will reach along the threads of destiny to tie knots in their own fate, those knots which they will remember having seen when first they set their hands upon the threads of their own destiny, but which they had not yet remembered tying. If they permanently die before their return to Irem, their past will become inconsistent with their foretold future. This is paradox, and so it must instead be the case that Mr Cards will return to Irem... provided that their interpretation of those visions is correct, and that their trip here did not somehow invalidate their Destiny, at least. Wiser perhaps not to test matters beneath the light of an unfamiliar Judgment enforcing a different set of Laws, to be sure.)

"Still, the Devils presently in London do not often attempt to explain the nature of Hell, preferring instead to make hints and vague references, in keeping with their apparent strategy of deliberate misinformation." (True, though such hints and references are more useful than Cards is implying.)

"Nonetheless, some hints and older written works do line up in the same direction. For instance, I have indeed heard of Asmodeus, King of Hell," (in Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis, a work that more serious scholars agree to be deliberately obscurantist, and written or influenced by Devils to present a misleading view of Hell's organization and structure... though some Devils have certainly claimed some names from that book as their own.)

"I have also heard the organization of Hell described along approximately aristocratic lines, with various noble titles being granted to powerful Devils who rule parts of Hell, and are themselves subject to still greater Devils with greater power and authority, and so on." (From representatives of the defeated Brimstone Convention, who no longer hold power, describing what Hell was or ought to still be.)

"I would not ordinarily consider various sources purporting to describe Hell in greater detail to be especially reliable, though some older religious works famously go into considerable detail in their description of nine sub-areas of Hell," (La Divina Commedia and works inspired by it are widely considered fictional, and so are indeed not considered reliable by Mr Cards, however relevant that structure is to the conversational point at hand.)

"You have, for your own part, been more informative about such matters than those Devils I have spoken with previously, which suggests to me that you are under different restrictions as to what information may be shared than they are." (True, trivially so if they are receiving orders from entirely different Hells, though 'different orders' was previously framed as an alternative to 'different Hells', and so ought to feel like a more salient point with so many true supporting reasons to believe it. Still, even if their standard 'talking to Devils' conversational ploy in presenting themselves as a largely amoral researcher is not quite perfect, as they have yet to truly abandon their human sentimentality... their emotional reaction to how how useful Mordessa is being is certainly genuine.)

*: Techniques for manipulation of mirrors and dreams

**: The colour of shallow sleep; also associated with growth, infatuation, and vegetation.

***: Professionals who handle legal matters and oversee court proceedings for their clients, implying a legal system too complex for the layperson to navigate unaided.

"This Prisoner's Honey seems like a most important substance to the Fingerkings, then."

"It does then seem prudent to consider precautions against mirrors. I'm unclear how certainly we could detect that color, it's being visible to mortal eyes or only to specialized eyes seems highly relevant."

"Selling one's soul is not unheard of here, and it having no earthly consequences is technically true. The most important consequence of selling one's soul is that the owner if that soul would have claim to it after death. The price paid does vary considerably with the individuals negotiation position and desperation at the time of dealings. It is also true that one who has sold their soul would have a place in Hell, not Heaven, after death. But this entity you speak of, the Anglican Church, does sound like one which would have other than altruistic interests to claim such facts."

"Here the claims reliability is backed by the fact that on Golarion it is relatively easy for someone with resources to contact entities from the various afterlives, for example me originating from Hell and various outsiders from Heaven available to entities aligned closely enough."

"It is most useful for ones interests to not have an expiring lifespan. It is one of the parts of mortal life I miss the least."

"And the unreliable sources you have seem quite interesting. Part of why mortals on Golarion have reliable information on Hell is the fact that the nature of Hell, it's ruler, and His servants like myself is fundamentally Lawful. We are bound by our nature to follow our promises, signed contracts, and other Lawful agreements. Complicated contracting is a common way of spending time for various Hell-denizens. I am also sharing, due to my best judgement of it being useful, a bit more than would be normal protocol, since it seems there exists potential for a mutual cooperation here."

"Viric is not particularly subtle," corrects Mr Cards, "But it is more easily remembered as green by those who were not properly concentrating on it at the time, or who were overcome by its soporific effects. Ordinary and undisciplined guards, catching a viric flash from the corner of their vision, or seeing a mirror's activation, or noticing a hint of viric in a stranger's eyes, may find themselves drowsy, muddled, or distracted by some daydream."

They pause, mentally cataloguing the items they have stored away, then nod to themselves.

"I have but a single sample of the colour on hand," offers Mr Cards, "A Mirrorcatch box filled with viric radiance, which I harvested from the Viric Jungle in Parabola. If I open the box, that radiance will be released in a single burst. I had been keeping it for a potential future project... but it would not be impossibly inconvenient to harvest more should I need it. I might offer such a demonstration as a third and final repayment for my unintended trespass, if you feel that having a clear example of what to watch for would be helpful."

They nod at Mordessa's characterization of the Anglicans... in acknowledgement, not agreement, but the two are so easily confused, "Yes, reliable evidence does make all the difference in determining the truth of competing claims. As techniques to contact the afterlives are not otherwise known to me, I would be very much interested in any information you are able to provide regarding those techniques. Perhaps we can discuss such a trade later?"

"Contracts are an area of considerable interest to the Devils I am familiar with as well, and I will admit to some experience in that area myself. As for this idea of a Lawful nature, I will note that the Fingerkings indeed have the same nature; and are unable to break their agreements. Whatever payment it is that they owe Hell in return for Hell's own efforts, I have heard not the slightest of hints that such payments have not been made, nor even delayed. Alas," here they give a soft high chuckle of private amusement, "It seems that Hell saw fit to give them a lesson on the difference between the letter and the spirit of an agreement, and which of the two is truly binding. Relations between the Fingerkings and Hell have been decidedly unfriendly ever since."

"The utility of seeing that color relative to avoiding being compromised is a bit unclear to me, if it's a limited resource for you I wouldn't jump on it yet. The offer is appreciated deeply though."

Deep concentration happens here, even though the mask that is Mordessas actual face doesn't move due to it. Should she risk telling Cards about the other afterlives. Specifically Axis seems like something risky because Cards might very well prefer to ally with them. Perhaps a gauging can be made to how curious Cards is right now regarding the afterlives.

"Trading information of hard-to-obtain nature is a most interesting sort of trade and it is quite possible here. Regarding afterlife, specifically retrieving information from Heaven would require an operation. Visiting the River itself could be risky. Parts of Abyss that are leaking through the Worldwound could be observed with enough telescopical enhancement, but an actual visit would require quite an escort for safety. It's filled with mostly insane demons."

(Why must this Mr Cards be already so familiar with that most significant of small differences, the difference between letters and spirits of agreements. That takes many of the simpler Asmodean contract trickeries off the table.)

"That is a most interesting fact about the Fingerkings, and, I will not try to hide it here, a most hellish sort of lesson to go and teach someone." The matter of hellish being taken literally or figuratively here will be up to Cards' interpretation.