The response comes with a wide smile, this time.

"Indeed a most sensible policy, that one. We do also prefer to write the documents with our own hand, for trickery related reasons. But as the language situation requires, you may scribe the documents."

"I would certainly be interested in the results of any such experiments," agrees Mr Cards, "Although I would anticipate that any technique able to repair a brain used upon a brain modified by the art would either restore that brain to its altered state, or to its pre-altered state. You would certainly not be the first Devil to find potential in the subject... though if said investigations have yielded any significant findings outside the field of botany, Hell has not seen fit to publish those successes."

"I will note that is technically not a requirement that the subject of a transformation be trained in the art, but the results of attempting otherwise can be quite undesirable, even for apparently physical transformations. I once escorted a trusted military officer to a master of the Shapeling Arts as part of an investigation into the possibility of mass enhancements. The master indicated this would be unwise, but was persuaded to enhance that officer as per his request. The enhancement was apparently a success, making the man visibly stronger... but he deserted within an hour of when the enhancement was performed, fleeing into the hinterlands to become a common bandit, apparently . A unusual side-effect, to be sure, but not an unprecedented one."

"As for the throne, it conveys something not unlike diplomatic recognition. I am considered by the Starved Men themselves to speak for London... though admittedly, this last was mostly related to my rather prominent role in fending off the final attack upon my city." They chuckle softly at this, adding, "No secret, that, but a story for another time. London has faced perils past aplenty, and no few of them with my assistance; we'd be here twice as long if I stopped to explain each in detail."

At Jacques' acquiescence, they fetch a variety of papers, pens, and ink; laying them out for inspection, alongside a squat green candle.

"Indeed; I have a whole list of standard concerns of that sort," suggests Mr Cards with a nod, "In keeping with those policies, you are of course free to examine the materials I intend to use to confirm that they are satisfactory. On a related note, what are your preferences for contract enforcement? I have a variety of such measures at my disposal, from those which simply make contract violations apparent, through self-enforcing penalty clauses of increasing severity, to an ancient curse suitable for destroying any oathbreaker."

"That is a peculiar consequence from enhancing strength indeed. And it not being unprecedented does leave quite the flavour to this Art."

"Do the materials have special powers themselves? And in any case, we shall perform our own diligence."

Mordessa does some casting gestures with their hands, activating Detect Magic. They take a good, focused, arcane and investigative look at the material, empowered by both Detect Magic and True Seeing. Light physical examination is also done, ascertaining that the materials are what they look like they are, and not encapsulating hidden other materials inside.

"Stories of London do also hold our interest, but it does seem purposeful to now focus on handling the negotiation first."

"Hell does also have access to means of enforcement, including but not limited to making contractbreaking effectively impossible by the signatories. A standard option is to take the signatorys soul, either immediately or as collateral, which guarantees access of sorts. With the secrecy clause, as long as it is worded optimally strictly taking into account the risk and variance of outcomes, a strict enforcement clause would seem appropriate. Whereas with the trading itself, a lesser clause would work."

The materials are what they appear to be. Mr Cards doesn't often pull contract tricks; their reputation is valuable, and so few targets are deserving of such treachery (a list topped by the "Manager of the Royal Bethlehem", who unfortunately has far too much experience as a fraudmeister to be taken in by even most complex deceptions). Even among those who are, so few Devils are individually worth scamming (in the absence of an aristocracy, few Devils are unusually wealthy by Hellish standards), and when they oppose the machinations of Hell, they have preferred to deal honestly with individual Devils, and thereby gain sufficient trust and flexibility to harm Hell as an organization... on rare occasions when they found themselves able to do so.

With regards to the paper itself, there are a number of checks that they would consider standard which Mordessa does not do... but then again, some of the checks she does perform are unfamiliar to Cards, and she is able to see under the hood of their cloak. Even if they had come to this meeting prepared to enact a 'the real contract was the one in invisible ink' scam, they would hesitate to enact such. Still, though it is occasionally worth checking if one's counterparty is a fool, the ideal time to do so is not on the first preliminary negotiation.

"No power not otherwise possessed by paper, ink, iron, and wax from the Neath," they assure the devils, "Though certain Correspondence-related safeguards would be more efficacious if performed using Violant ink; I find such ink often dispreferred for any contract intended to remain valid for more than a year or two; even paper treated to be resistant to fire tends to smoulder slightly when marked with Violant sigils. Given this issue, and as strong and lasting enforcement is desirable in this case, I would instead prefer to add an additional material of unusual potency."

They carefully produce a small glass vial, three inches long and one in diameter, half-full of something sticky and orange, and stoppered with a cork. Keen eyes may note that, while Mr Cards has been rather casual about displaying many of their possessions, they are somewhat more careful of this one, and they continue to keep a close eye on it even after they set it down on the table for inspection.

"This is the Sap of the Cedar at the Crossroads; a Kataleptic Toxin, whose terminal dose is a single drop, mixed with the ink in which a contract is signed. It is harmless, unless used in such a way, and its presence acknowledged, before the terms are later breached... in which case, the oathbreaker's end is swift and certain. I consider this a sufficient guarantee to satisfy my enforcement concerns."

"As for the use of a soul as collateral," here Mr Cards is slightly embarrassed, a genuine reaction that would ordinarily be hidden under their Robe, but which is rather more obvious to Mordessa's sight, "I must at this point regrettably inform you that I sold mine long ago, when I was younger and considerably more naive about such matters, to a most persistent Devil of my then acquaintance. Understand that I almost never disclose this fact to those unaware of the matter. This is both on account of the discrimination against those who have made such agreements by certain sections of society... and the fact that, as I understand it, my soul has become rather more valuable in the interim. As I generally understand that contracts in which one party proffers collateral that they do not legally possess are null and void, I presume that it is either the case that this prior sale satisfies your requirements, or that an alternative method is required."

(All true; they did in fact sell their soul, they regret having to give up such a juicy bit of personal information, especially an embarrassing one like the fact that they made such a significant deal at such a trifling price. Also true are the fact that they generally keep this information hidden, and the stated reasons are both good ones not to bring it up under most circumstances. Critically, however, they Mithridatically omit any mention of the fact that they regained possession of their soul thereafter... but that fact would be inconsistent with the presented narrative, making it seem even less plausible than whatever prior the Devils might already have for such a recovery.)

"The basic contract materials are acceptable. The Toxin is also acceptable, pending confirmation from Hell for the part where the contract is signed in their name." (If it works as described the Toxin would be of significant interest to Hell, but no reason to hint about that at this moment in time.)

"As for the collateral - the important part is that the signatory side of the contract could, in the event of a breach, have access to the collateral. We would need to ensure that the soul is appropriately liquid for the purposes of functioning as collateral, especially considering the secrecy requirements. Conditional on that the soul collateral is workable."

"Do your supplies lend themselves to drafting a final version of the agreement to consult Hell about before we move on to signing?"

"My supplies are certainly sufficient for such a contract, though I note that I have not been in contact with the devil involved with that particular sale for years, so I am hardly privy to the details of any further contractual arrangements he may have made in the interim." (True, though irrelevant.)

"Verification of those details would conventionally involve consulting the relevant records, which seems likely to be inconvenient under the circumstances." (Also true, though the return of Cards' soul has hardly escaped the Brass Embassy's notice, which might present a future complication if things get to that point.)

"Do you require such verification before even a preliminary agreement? Alternatively, should I simply consider the specifics of that verification process to be one of Hell's internal matters?" (Or, in other words, not Cards' problem. That would certainly be convenient, but they seldom manage to snooker any but the youngest of Devils quite that badly.)

"Verification would even in the best case add delay." (No need to fix any misconceptions about Hell's soul records here.)

"We may proceed with the preliminary agreement."

"Any document that will bind the actions of Hell as a whole will require appropriate verification. For all our pride as representatives we are but tendrils of an instrument. You wouldn't let your fingers sign a contract without your head agreeing to it, correct?"

"Nonetheless Hell recognises the downsides of bureaucracy, as it does the benefits. We could sign the preliminary agreement between us, who are physically present. Or utilize a more complicated standard clause that would enable Hell to retroactively sign the agreement if and only if they agree to utilize the information granted for this decision for this decision only, in the event that they decide to not sign. One of the many advantages granted by Law is the ability to commit to such options in a reliable way."

(The optimal solution here would include Mr Cards forgetting to bind one of the relevant entities from Hellside to the contract. Since the question of soul sales didn't faze him, perhaps contract fatigue will. Altough Cards does seem... tolerant to pressure in a way only few mortals are. We need to figure out the extents and limits of Cards' cognition.)

"I would of course need to see that wording before agreeing to it, but it sounds reasonable enough in principle. Let us get started."

Several hours of contract negotiations follow. Nothing even gets written down until both sides agree to it, but they still wind up going through multiple drafts as earlier preliminary wording runs afoul of concerns raised later on. The Sap isn't even uncorked yet; that's reserved for the final version of the preliminary agreement, which will be written after they have a complete and mutually agreed upon draft wording.

Mr Cards does not display noticeable fatigue throughout the process, and is just as patient and thorough hours into the process as they were at the start, despite having volunteered themself as the scribe. This clearly isn't the first time Mr Cards has been locked in a room with multiple devils for hours of high-stakes negotiations. Far too many of the usual tricks are dismissed out of hand, and they're easily able to describe loopholes a given wording would open when pressed. For their own part, Mr Cards doesn't often suggest unfair terms weighted in their own favor, but when they do, they're subtle, deniable, and potentially devastating.

As the hours pass, it seems increasingly obvious that Cards has done this sort of thing hundreds of times. This is a level of expertise surpassed only by Axis legal firms specialized in adversarial negotiations with Hell.

There is something in the manner Mr Cards deals that a mortal would have a harder time recognising than a God.

Mr Cards seems sharp. But more importantly, Cards seems inexhaustible. They seem like someone who wins the games they play. They seem to have more skills and equipment than an average archmage.

Besides being powerful, experienced, and in possession of a massive amounts of material, Mr Cards seems to be hungry for power in a way rarely seen, twister of words and obsessed with knowledge. Intricately, structurally and legally integrated to their city, hoarder of forbidden knowledge, and shining with wealth.

Once they know where to look, Mr Cards shines like a beacon to the Archdevils, commanded to observe in Asmodeus' interest. They see bits of information from the way Cards' actions and action-choices shape the world and theirself. They notice incomprehensible bits that should not be there.

The Prince of Devils additionally peeks through the devils on the ground. The performance subpar, mistakes here, there, here and there. Obvious ones. To Him.

Proactive intervention might majorly increase the utility of successful negotiation consequences. But if it happens to raise the odds of hostile attention by percentage points, it is not worth it at this point in time.

(Anomaly reporting cannot be postponed indefinitely, but there is still time.)

So Asmodeus and His favored servants and His disfavored servants do not take proactive action.

Meanwhile

A Wizard lays in the Fort infirmary. Restrained in hospital bed, being observed by a few circles of cleric.

The wizard is slowly poked with sticks. Observing physical reactions. Toes: moving. Knees: moving.

He is also not poked with not sticks. Pain response: lacking. Noisemaking: missing. Wakefulness: far away.

There are ways for magical accidents, cursed items or traps to leave someone without access to their physicalities.

But it is not known for this to happen due to being eaten(?) by a monster(?) that looks like a Minotaur and apparently lives in a mirror? Maybe it's a cursed mirror that causes Minotaur-illusions and eats minds / souls? They should really get a proper look on Caedius' mind and soul, stat.

Inside Caedius' mind, he is dreaming nightmares. Confusedly, constantly, consistently compounding in effect.

Dream moments, fragmentary existence being lived through.

Tick, a father watching his son being grabbed away. Tock, a defector executed. Tick, a paladin helping with a heal getting maledicted later. Tock, a cleric dropped by a God and then by a mortal

Then plain pain. Horrible horrible pain, pain that Cheliax didn't, couldn't, wouldn't, prepare him for. Dreams of being molded into something not-him. Losing losing losing until there is nothing left to lose, of his self and his losses and the losing keeps going and he's losing what's losing is there a way to get off from this horrible tossing and turning and burning of mind.

It can't last forever. Only Hell is forever. But what if he already entered Hell, while missing what's real, due to these cursed nightmares?

Is it lasting, or is it to change?

In the middle of one such dream of torment, a new presence goes unnoticed at first. It's not very large... perhaps as long as Caedius is tall, were it not coiled around a branch... but it blends in so well with the greenery that it would've been impossible to notice it until it chose to announce itself. When it does, it conveys its offer voicelessly; the meaning of the words, without the sound.

"It hurts to bear those memories, doesn't it? Why not give them up? I can ease your burden, if you'll let me."

A moment of stillness. His senses sharp, constantly flinching, awaiting what comes next. But the hurt doesn't come, instead there are words?

His voice starts quite worn, but his dreamy existence solidifies a bit, cohering to answer.

"It stopped." Disbelief, waiting for it to resume. When it does not: "You did that. You're... separate from..." He trails off, then something focuses behind his eyes - not full clarity but learned shifting from torture to lucidity. "Nothing's free. What do you want?"

"In such a barren place as this, one is unlikely to find much that they did not bring with them."

A twitch of the tail seems to indicate the surrounding greenery... hazy dream-like images, ill-defined around the edges, the vague idea of plants rather than any true growth.

"Those torments arose from your own memories. I merely distract you from them. I expect they'll return soon enough, should I leave. As for my own wants..."

It bends its head a little closer, gazing intently at Caedius.

"Sustenance comes to mind. I have not encountered a traveler in a long while. Painful memories make for a bitter meal, but anything is better than nothing. This was a chance meeting. You may not meet another of my kind any time soon. Why not take the opportunity to unburden yourself of some regrets?"

At least this hurts his head in a different way.

It would be so risky.

But the earlier nightmares did already make it to the point where Caedius was ready to say anything to make it stop. The nightmares just weren't interested at all. Before this...

He's going to Hell anyway.

Why not take a bit of a break... should he specifically ask to forget about Hell? That'd be disloyal if he ever gets out of here.

If he plays for time here he can have a longer break anyway.

"Oh. That seems explanatory and also confusing. I was attacked by something from a mirror, is that an usual way to end up here?"

"And the sustenance would depend on the kind of burdens you'd be most interested in sustaining on. Would it cause problems if a lot of my painful thoughts are built around a singular topic?"

"Mirrors are portals, doors between that which is and that which is not. If you were attacked by something from a mirror, and then found yourself here, your attacker must have taken a part of you with it. It is that part of you that I now address."

It tilts its head curiously at that last question, giving Caedius a one-eyed look.

"Worry not for my digestion, traveler. I can comfortably take everything that you're willing to give."

"That does not sound like what I know of mirrors but it certainly would make sense of ... this."

Caedius shakes his head as if to clear it. And glances back at the snakes eye.

"Honored - snake - besides your digestion I was also worried of the consequence on my other memories and mind, for my homeland is built on a foundation that is not conducive to avoiding nightmares, at least not when staying here. I should not ask if I would forget the army I serve for."

"Oh? Whyever not? By all means, ask whatever you like. I do not promise to give it to you, but the asking alone should offend none. Who else beyond you and I will know what we discuss, unless you tell them? Think of your own interests, and ask for what you want."

It pauses a moment, then corrects, "To be clear, I am not a snake... though that is an easy mistake for some travelers to make. My kind are known as the Fingerkings, and you may address me as such. Beyond that, should we become rather more friendly than we are now, I might consider giving you my name."

No promises? Huh... What were you supposed to do with fey-like creatures if you insulted them?

"My mistake, honored fingerking. I was not aware of your kind before meeting you."

"Nonetheless, if you were to eat my memories of the plane that is foundation to my homeland, and to the army I serve, I think it would have consequences. I would expect confusion for myself, and then investigation, if I were to lose memories of the army I serve. If you won't promise for requests, will you promise anything at all?"

"It is not impossible that you might offer me something valuable enough that I would consider permanently binding myself in exchange. As travelers are often untrustworthy, I myself prefer to avoid such mutually detrimental bargains, but such an arrangement can become unavoidable under certain circumstances. What assurances do you seek, and what are you willing to sacrifice to get them?"

Is this a Mephistophelean loyalty test.

"Is there something you seek, besides or from your sustenance? Would something be an extra delicious meal? Do you need service for something?"

"I would agree to a deal where it is clear what is being consumed." (Do not reveal you would also agree to a worse deal.)

"I seek the same thing all of my kind seek, of course; real experiences, and the growth and change they permit. I came all the way here looking for them instead of sticking to more populous territories for... complicated reasons that might best be described as political."

"There are many factors that influence the flavour of a meal, and it is very much a matter of individual preference. On the negative side, I'd include confusion, disordered thoughts, the terror of a life-or-death struggle... I'll take them if I can get nothing else, but I get so little in return that I find it hardly worth the effort. This is, not incidentally, the reason why I haven't simply pinned you down to rummage through your mind and take whatever I could seize. As for positive factors, I find clarity to be the most vital ingredient. Coherent experiences, deliberately provided, are among the best offerings for my own development. If such clarity is your only condition, then it seems as though our interests are conveniently well-aligned! Here is how to make it happen: consider carefully what it is you want to offer, bring it up into the forefront of your thoughts, gaze deeply into my eyes, and do not resist when I take it from you."

It stretches out, turning its head to regard Caedius fully, making direct eye contact with both eyes. There's a definite sense of a deeper contact in that gaze, for as long as Caedius is willing to meet it.

"Beyond that, however, as concerns service... I'm certainly willing to accept as much of it as you're willing to offer, whether that be for the length of a dream, for a lifetime, or even for ever."

It leans in closer, the mental nonvoice seeming to get subtler, almost conveying the sense of a whisper.

"You don't have to go back, you know. If anything real troubles you, it can be escaped if you simply avoid reality forever. Even death is no exception. Should your body die while you linger here, here you will remain."

The snake Fingerking is quite convincing... Why is it so convincing?

Caedius looks into the eyes, and flinches back for a moment, perplexed.

"I will admit, escaping reality is quite the opportunity. But this place is full of nightmares. I would need ways of protection or knowledge where to find such, if we were to part.

For another concern, surely I can somehow die even living in dreams, and then be forced to Pharasma's judgment?"

"I would have to consider the length of my stay, before offering service for a dream. How would you utilize services of one like me?"

"Nonetheless, I will give you a sample, a test. I would see the process, before more."

He stares into the eyes, and remembers, to focus:

Effort, risk, an attempt. A moment of success, rare camaraderie. Two men, in black robes, pride in their eyes. An older one, in decorated robes, nods slowly. They depart from the room. 

There is an undertone of bittersweet; this man doesn't know the meaning, he doesn't fully comperehend. But somehow this meant a lot to him, and sometime else, it's shape started to change.