The one who would become Mr Cards had not, at the time, realized that becoming the newest Master of the Bazaar meant becoming a giant, predatory, hermaphroditic, alien space bat. But by the time they had realized exactly where their physical transformation was taking them, their mental transformation was well under way, and whatever disquiet remained had given way to anticipation, even excitement. Ah, the memory of that brief, wondrous glimpse through the Gate, to see a proper Curator in their full glory! Admittedly, this also brought with it certain obsessive and predatory impulses that their old self would not quite have understood, but they had made their peace with those new parts of their psyche. Whatever gaps remained, they patched with what was not quite charity, salving their wounded conscience as they moved forwards, slowly becoming more.

Admittedly, even as a man, they'd always been at least a little obsessive in their studies, but as Mr Cards, their affinity for certain sciences had grown far sharper. How easily the purported randomness of shuffled cards gave way to the uncertain but predictable laws of probability! Of course, those laws were violated regularly, but in ways that could be straightforwardly detected, if not easily predicted. Carefully mapped and recorded, each violation hinted at its cause; the Seven Treacheries of the Neath. And with further study, one might look beyond the Treacheries, to those principles that made them possible: the Red Science, built from the Correspondence. To sum all that up as "Cards" was perhaps a bit disingenuous, but they had admittedly won their title in a card game. Perhaps they'd claim a different title next city, when that time finally came.

Nothing to do with trains, though. Entirely aside from that territory potentially being taken by the youngest Master, should it return; the Great Hellbound Railway was a grand achievement, and they'd learned much in building it, but it was not truly their passion. It was merely a convenient tool to advance their studies, and one that had earned them an interesting opportunity to strike against Hell! That had indeed been proper vengeance for their wasted years, setting the scales aright between themselves and Hell... though as it had happened in a way that Hell was unable to remember, they had been careful never to gloat about it. However they had felt about it originally, and whatever misgivings they'd had along the way, they had ultimately been correct to pursue Power.

With a loud and annoyed sigh, Mr Cards pulled themselves a little freer of the tangling vines of Apocyan reminiscence, disentangling the bulk of their Robe from the clinging memories. Parabola was tricky that way, and the incautious dreamer could easily lose themselves indefinitely in whatever dreams might snare them, even careless daydreams of their own past. No, it was not their academic obsessions that had called them here; it was their growing predatory instincts. Oh, they'd dabbled at Knife-and-Candle even before selling their soul, but it had merely been an interesting and not-entirely-avoidable diversion at the time; it hadn't truly called to them. Now, even in their partial and incomplete state, they were finally starting to understand just what it was that Mr Iron got out of Knife-and-Candle, and they'd thrown themselves into Hearts' Game much more deeply. And when stalking and poisoning willing prey didn't quite sate their need to express those instincts, they came here, to Parabola. Where the beasts of nightmare roamed freely, but could be fought and subdued, even 'killed', and their bodies hauled out of the Is-Not back into physical reality, as impossible trophies.

In short, Mr Cards had come here to hunt down a giant nightmare shark that swam through the air as though through water. The beasts were three times their size, but that was less important than it seemed, here; they'd managed to kill a Pinewood Shark before. It was certainly a difficult and dangerous exercise, but by no means impossible; some early aggression, a handful of shallow blows to vital spots with the Honest Butcher's Tool, some careful persistence as the thing flagged and faltered, a watchful eye for openings as the thing faltered... and then the deathstroke, followed by the rather less exciting work of butchering the carcass. What remained could be rendered down into a rather tasty soup, provided one was sensible enough to discard the stiff and acrid flesh in favour of the unassuming cartilage, which would dissolve rather excellently if simmered for long enough.

With a frown, Mr Cards brushed aside another tangling Apocyan vine, freeing themselves from a somewhat more relevant memory, and in the process stepping out into a somewhat clearer portion of Parabola. Alas, there wasn't a b____y pine tree in sight, implying that their hunt had gone rather badly awry; instead, there were merely rolling hills... almost visibly ambulatory, and menacing with savagely-sharp grasses. Indeed, the only creature nearby was their 'pet' Minotaur. The nightmarish beast had made its way into Parabola shortly after hatching from a carefully-augmented Whitsun egg... but it seemed content to guard their dreams, keeping a great deal of mischief at bay with its imposing presence. Despite its usual fearsome expression, they could tell that their 'pet' was bored. Time to get a move on, then...

With a moment's concentration, Mr Cards looked down at their hand, seeing first the long fingernails that weren't quite talons (yet). With a practised mental motion, they turned their hand palm upright, then squinted at it until they managed to imagine a dream-compass properly. It didn't come quite as easily as usual; it took what seemed like a half minute for the appropriate dream-logic of Parabolan navigation to assert itself, only to tell them what they had already known. They truly had become lost in that jungle of reminiscences, and were now further into the wilds of Parabola than they'd been in... hmm, perhaps ever? Well, they'd been here now, and a natural grove full of tangling Apocyan vines was an interesting find in its own right. Perhaps they'd remember this route later, and return on purpose?

Well, since they were here in any event, and nowhere near the Pinewood, perhaps they ought to find something else to hunt. With a nod to their silent companion, Mr Cards turned, and began to circle the jungle of memories. Perhaps they'd find interesting prey on the fringes, half-trapped in their own minds? The hills shifted between steps as the unlikely pair wandered a little further, and soon happened upon something like what they'd been thinking of; the long, long body of an extremely large snake, tail end coiling off into the hills, head unseen in the jungle of memories. An interesting possibility, but unlikely to be a profitable one; even in their native domain of Parabola, the Fingerkings could be defeated, but not at all easily slain, and certainly not taken as hunting trophies! An individual Fingerking might be tempted into a fight under the right circumstances, but was far more likely to offer conversation. Alas, with a Fingerking as old and powerful as this one seemed to be, the conversation could well be far more perilous than any fight would be. Still, one ought to be polite in such cases. The Fingerkings had very long memories, and their own sort of honour. Outside of declared war, it would be rather rude to simply ambush the serpent while it was distracted with its own memories.

Mr Cards stood a little taller, every inch a robed and mysterious Master of the Bazaar as they waved their silent companion aside and cleared their throat. Their true voice had yet to develop the high shrillness of their fellow Masters, but it was getting there, and a feature of their Robe made it reasonably effortless to imitate the remaining gap.

"Hail, Fingerking," they said, the semi-formal greeting coming easily, "It's a lovely day for a hunt, isn't it?"

Naturally, Mr Cards was expecting the enormous snake to turn from the jungle at their words. That it did so immediately was not a surprise, despite the way it moved with alarming speed and wide-open mouth. No, the surprising part was the way the snake's gaping mouth was a perfectly flat mirror. Automatically, three competing thoughts battled for their attention: 'did it get stuck partway through a mirror?' and 'why isn't that mirror fixed in place like all other Parabolan mirrors are?' and 'hang on, it looks like it's getting ready to lunge at me'.

Really, that third thought deserved a great deal more of their attention than it actually got. Despite the distraction, they almost managed to dodge the serpent's lunge.

Almost.

The Fingerking had reason to move with quickness. A master had recently toyed with them. They didn't really care if this one was the same or just similar.

As the lunge hits, there is no bite to feel. Only the effect a parabolan mirror has when collided with. Which is now, as it often, but not always, is: instant transportation.

Mr. Cards can hear the snake slithering away. Their location suddenly feels less Parabolan and more concrete. More real.

The mirror behind Cards is large. The room seems like a bedroom, regally furnished. Floors and walls are of dark stone. 

The air is chilly. No more noise can be heard.

A window shows an inner courtyard. The building could be a mansion of sorts. Or a fort. Alarmingly there is also bright light coming in through the window. With no visible roof at the outside.

THE SUN!

They haven't seen it directly, but the panic reaction is immediate; flinching away from the tempting glimmer of light, turning their back to the window. It's been... a long time since Mr Cards has seen real sunlight, except in the tiniest of stored and measured doses. The gnawing desire to look closer is firmly screamed down; even the tiny stored reflection of sunlight could pose a terrible risk, and an indirect exposure such as this could be far more deadly! Neathy things lose their power and special properties when exposed to the light of the Judgments; what the Red Science can do can yet be undone by the light of Law. But not instantly. They would not ordinarily wish to test their Robe against such light, but it will fail far more slowly than anything else they possess, giving slightly more time to plan.

Within the sheltered shadows of their Robe, Mr Cards awkwardly pries open their luggage, white-gloved hands steady despite the danger behind them. Luckily, the gloves they usually wear to Parabola have already been tested against the light of the Judgments... assuming that their Drownie seller spoke truly of their provenance! Even so, it's still too bright, so their first priority has to be eye protection! Reaching into the appropriate section of their bag with practised haste, the most broadly-applicable protection from visual hazards they possess leaps to hand, and then to face; thick goggles with irrigo-tinted lenses. Intended to dull the memory of anything they truly would not wish to see, they won't last long in direct sunlight, but might save their eyes for another minute or two.

Next priority is blocking the light, of course; whatever scrap of fabric comes most quickly to hand will do... wait, no; nothing alive! Much of the young Master's wardrobe has been too influenced by Polythreme to meekly hold still and be destroyed. and any time wasted trying to fight it could well be lethal! Nevertheless, their rough handling sends an assortment of their more independent-minded gloves, hats, stockings, and scarves spilling out of the bag, where they begin exploring the room of their own accord. Alas, they're far too busy to rescue any such rebellious items as they continue their search, spilling several dozen assorted handkerchiefs onto the floor as they mentally add 'and of appropriate size to cover the hole' to their requirements; moments later, a questing hand seizes upon an expensive set of surface-silk sheets! Unfortunately thin, but ideally resistant; it'll do for a first layer! Add to that any sort of sharp metal; a far easier search, as they still have some leftover Nevercold Brass screws in a side pocket from their last job. Ordinarily, the infernal alloy would be serious overkill for a patch job, but needs must when the Devil drives...

A couple quick folds have the sheets folded down into a reasonable patching size, which they hold up before their face like a ward with their left hand, while the right clutches a single screw. Lacking a third hand to hold a screwdriver, they'd need to drive it through the sheets and into the window's frame with their hands alone... but that feat of strength seemed less a problem than further delay would be.

Having only taken a handful of seconds planning and preparing, Mr Cards charges across the room towards the window, face hidden under sheets, Robe, goggles, making out the distinction of the window frame only by what slight change in brightness penetrates their protective layers. It's the work of long moments to get the first screw partly in, and they start a second as soon as it seems embedded solidly enough to support the weight of cloth. A third and a fourth follow it, each seeming to take more effort than it ought to, but soon their left arm is free to hold a proper tool... and in the moment that they begin to turn away to search their pockets for their Nevercold Screwdriver, a passing glance shows two problems with their plan.

The first problem is that the windows are adorned with thick red curtains; far more suitable and sensible protection than their madly improvised scheme! It takes less time to draw them shut than it did to drive a single screw in partway, and for good reason, since the second problem is that there was no wooden window frame; they'd been driving the Hell-forged screws into smooth stone with pure brute strength! Oops?

Well... silly as the mistake seemed in hindsight, it probably wouldn't matter that much. They didn't dare stay here long! The curtains don't perfectly block the sunlight, but with the room now mostly dark, it ought to be possible to reenter Parabola, and then... then, Mr Cards finally has enough time to question how they were able to emerge from a mirror in a sunlit room in the first place. They were no Silverer, but that ought to be impossible, actually. Even by the standards of that impossible place. Perhaps, at best, a dream-passage between the Neath and a dark Surface basement at nighttime, containing an imported mirror that had never seen the Sun's light? For that matter... despite their concerns, they didn't feel at all burned by their exposure, and the escaped stocking crawling under the bed didn't seem any worse for the wear either.

Hmm... perhaps, with the initial threat mitigated, they could bear to stay a minute or two investigating this mystery?

The stocking can be collected, and the assesment that no sunlight-related damage managed to happen seems to hold true.

Nothing as urgent as the sunlight appears within a few minutes. If the building is inhabited it seems the inhabitants are elsewhere, or very very silent. Or the room is soundproof.

There's definitely something strange going on here, since this apparent sunlight isn't behaving as they'd feared. It had looked and even felt like their faded memories of sunlight, but it had not burned like their more recent experiences had warned them. Naturally, a confusing phenomenon like this just begs to be properly investigated!

It is the work of moments for Mr Cards to change into an outfit better suited to more detailed study. This is not their laboratory, but the Smock of Four Thousand Three Hundred and Eight pockets has enough tools to suffice for a preliminary study (and those pockets are convenient enough to access even when it's worn under their Robe). Their Vigilant Chitin-Fur Boots are alive enough to keep an eye of their own out, as is the Avid Glove currently attempting to infiltrate this bedroom's chest of drawers. Their seemingly endless Pot of Violant Ink will provide a convenient medium for drawing any Correspondence sigils useful in analyzing the unknown light, while the Hungry Little Snuffbox (purchased at ruinous expense!), will permit the instant disposal of any dangerous and undesirable results.

But most significant of all is their mask, The Violant Demon; once a simple Hallowmas mask, infused with the ink of their profession into an item of power. Its creation was their first truly significant exercise of their art as a Correspondent, and its sinister features have come to feel almost more like their true face than any other disguise they've donned over the years... especially as their flesh face began to change.

Suitably attired, Mr Cards begins to assemble the bare bones of a basic transcription experiment; Mirrorcatch Boxes for taking samples, crystalline prisms and lesser gems to split the raw sunlight into various components, Neath-silk thread to carefully suspend those optical instruments in their proper places, fireproof paper for note taking, lead plaques to record any truly important results. All told, it'll take them a good half hour of preparation before they're ready to open a thin slit in the curtains.

The door opens. There is a person, presumably a woman, in what seems like it could be servant clothing. They were entering, but they stop and start staring at Mr Cards.

Cards' well honed watchfulness could help them react before the person has time to act. Will they?

At the moment the door opens, Mr Cards has rigged up an assortment of crysalline prisms on strings between the curtain rail, the wardrobe, and the bedposts (atop one of which sits a fanged top hat, which glares menacingly at the newcomer). Strange mirrored contraptions sit open on the floor, notepaper and heavy lead plaques inscribed with strange arcane symbols are scattered around the room and cluttering a desk, (alongside the preexisting pile of handkerchiefs). Mr Cards themselves is busy painting burning sigils onto the stone wall in an impossible colour of ink.

Stealth is clearly not an option.

Violence may work for a time, but seems impolite; Mr Cards is a trespasser here, and has very much made themselves at home in a manor that seems less unoccupied than they had originally assumed. No, this is a time for diplomacy. Well... persuasion, at least.

Under their Robe, the looming figure of Mr Cards stands at over eight feet tall, and returns the maidservant's stare with glowing eyes beneath a light-obscuring hood.

"I am not to be disturbed for the next two hours," proclaims the youngest Master of the Bazaar imperiously, quite effectively imitating the high shrill tones of their fellow Masters, "I shall be engaged with my current experiment for that length of time, and this room will be hazardous to observers for the duration. Once I am finished my work, I will be willing to meet with the owner of this estate to discuss compensation for the trespass, and any incidental damages."

There is a brief response. It does not sound like any language that Cards has ever heard. The tone might be accusatory but not outright hostile.

One who understands Taldane could decrypt the speech to say: "Stay put. You are trespassing on Chelish property. I will fetch an authority and someone with translation magic."

The maid takes a step back, shouts something to the hall, and takes her leave.

Hmm, that's not one of the languages that Mr Cards knows, which is interesting in and of itself. Not English, certainly, nor Latin (nor any related Romance language, for that matter), nor Hudum. One of the languages of the Presbyterate, perhaps? Possible, but more in a "the Presbyterate has too many languages" sense than in the sense of being able to relate the phonology to Varcheesi or Clinese. More to the point, that light outside had felt like sunlight, not the light of Stone (they could certainly tell that difference, with the light that bright), so they are probably not on the Elder Continent.

No, they don't even have a good guess as to whatever language that was. Well, perhaps they'd share a language with the master of this estate.

Lacking any good way to follow up on that little mystery, Mr Cards gets back to their experimental preparations. If nothing else, they have been left to their work, and they remain quite curious as to the propeties of whatever Sun-like light had so spooked them upon their arrival.

After a few minutes somebody who looks like a guard in dark armor comes through the door. Then enters a person of completely different make.

It's a humanoid woman. With almost alabaster complexion. Angular and sharp facial features are complemented by white hair, red makeup and meticulously shaped eybrows. 

A glance at her clothing and equipment makes it quite clear she is the wealthiest local in this room. Altough, just like the guards', there is a weirdly outdated or even historical flavor to the style of her armor. The color scheme is of black and deep red, reminiscent of the furnishings.

The feature that might most catch Cards' attention would be eyes reminiscent of shining amber that contribute a piercing gaze in their direction. And the horns.

"What is the meaning of this incursion?"

There is something going on with the language. It's certainly English, but it's more neutral of any sort of accent or other features than one would usually hear spoken.

Mr Cards puts their inkpot aside as the new arrivals enter, having mostly finished their work on the sigil array they were painting. The fanged hat hisses a warning at the guard, but seems to think better of threatening the horned woman.

Once the group has properly entered, Mr Cards gives a the woman a polite, but not obsequious bow; she is clearly the superior among their group. Being addressed in English is a surprise, especially with the strange accent, but it's hardly the oddest thing about what has happened so far today. Such bright amber eyes would ordinarily bring to mind a Devil, but they seldom go for horns (that's more of a Demon thing), and their speech entirely lacks the slight buzz of a Devilish accent. But there are other shapes and pathways that the human form might adopt, and horns such as hers are far from the strangest thing they've seen.

"That is unclear even to me as of yet," admits Mr Cards, "I had not intended to depart Parabola so suddenly, and to arrive in an apparently sunlit room had seemed impossible."

"I expect to have a clearer idea of why this has happened shortly," they add, gesturing at their makeshift experimental setup, "But as I had attempted to explain to what I assume was your servant, this room will be hazardous to observers for the duration of my investigation."

There is a tiny hint of surprise at the hissing hat.

A nod acknowledges the bow from Cards. Then comes a rapid flurry of questions.

"So you are claiming that you have trespassed a secured Worldwound fortress by accident?"

"What is this Parabola you speak of? How does it relate to your transit method? How do you depart from such a place?"

"Do we have any reason to believe it would be beneficial to let you commit your research?"

"The normal procedure for trespassers is to forcibly confine them and ask questions later. I would much appreciate answers that could make for a more beneficial solution for all sides of the matter." There is a threatening, but negotational undertone at this part. 

She wonders about the weird pose and manner of being of this possibly humanoid creature. They seem to wear a mask that seems to resemble the likeliness of a devil, but in intentionally or unintentionally caricaturish ways.

Mordessa activates detect thoughts to check the consistency of Cards' answers. (The detect thoughts requires a medium difficulty will save to block. Or another method of making ones mind resistant to reading.) They also have a True Seeing up, which lets them see through illusions, transmutations and the like.

(True Seeing is sufficient to see past the illusory darkness produced by the Robe of Mr Cards, and is sufficient to reveal the masked face beneath. The glowing eyes are also illusory; the face beneath the mask seems humanoid, though amber-eyed. The large and vaguely hunchbacked shape of their body is not an illusion; there is something physical maintaining that shape, and not a transmutation. The mask itself, though it does depict a devilish caricature, is nonetheless of exceptional craftsmanship, and is painted in an impossible colour, which stands quite apart from those ordinarily seen in Golarion. This colour property is not an illusion, and indeed it is the same colour that the sigils painted on the walls are. Having closely examined the mask, it would be quite difficult for even a Devil to forget it.)

(Mr Cards can easily pass a moderate DC will save. They briefly experience a vaguely unusual sensation, but lack the context to notice the significance of that mental event.)

A 'secured' fortress with an unguarded mirror? Mr Cards is unable to entirely contain their incredulity at this glaring deficiency, though they are able to limit that reaction to a slight widening of their eyes. The woman's follow-up question about Parabola is at least a partial explanation of their ignorance.

"I understand that my passage into your fortress and subsequent actions are a sort of trespass," Mr Cards admits with a nod, "But I am willing to discuss some reasonable compensation for whatever damages and inconvenience that I was directly responsible for. Given your surprise at my manner of arrival, I am willing to provide a basic explanation of the phenomenon in question as a portion of that compensation. As to why you might find it beneficial to allow me to continue my research, I will note that I did not expect to be able to arrive under these conditions. After a brief study, which may be hazardous to observers unfamiliar with the Correspondence*, I may be able to describe both why I was able to arrive here instead of in a more typical exit point, and how you might prevent future incursions of this sort."

"Should you be unwilling to allow this," they add, "I note that I would ordinarily expect to be able to enter or leave a facility such as this without great difficulty, and have yet to be impressed by your security precautions. My interest in completing this research without interruption is significant, but not infinite."

*: literally just long-distance communication, as by letters or other time-delayed messages, but also conveys the implications of 'communications between stars' or 'the language spoken by gods'.

The mask and its colour is most fascinating. And the being wearing it. Mordessa has not ever seen anything quite like it. Or heard about anything like it. A watchful observer would notice that a look is being taken.

An eyebrow is raised at the mention of Correspondence. "I have not heard of the way in which gods communicate being described in this way before. Neither have I heard communication between stars being a concept that makes sense."

The expression of capability and lack of being impressed by the security are acknowledged by a serious look, but not commented on. 

"Establishing a shared understanding of the facts seems necessary for evaluating much of anything about the situation. As such explanations of phenomena seem suitable as part of the compensation here. Do engage your interest if you still feel so inspired. Will the research safety perimeter be this room? How much time would be sufficient?"

(In expectation of the safety perimeter, the staff who had entered the room or were close to it are ordered away, in the unfamiliar non-English language that Cards couldn't recognise earlier.)

Another subject of ignorance, but a less surprising one; the Correspondence is not widely known, and details of its working are at least somewhat suppressed. But the dismissal of the more human-looking servants is a reasonable precaution.

"Your ignorance of my primary field of study is understandable," comments Mr Cards without much heat, "The Correspondence is a somewhat obscure subject, and one that is quite hazardous to study; amateurs dabbling in the topic commonly burst into flames or go mad. Nonetheless, since this is a stone room, and thus unlikely to accidentally catch on fire, I expect any hazard posed by my work to be contained to this room, and would further anticipate the work to be finished within two hours, after which I will remove all objects and symbols which are hazardous to untrained observers."

They give Mordessa a contemplative look, before adding, "As this is your own territory, I would not presume to expel you while I work, providing that you do not interfere. If you do choose to remain, know that I shall not trouble myself to rescue you, should you prove unable to handle the aforementioned dangers."

The door to the room is now closed. At the mention of objects catching fire a short evaluative look from Mordessa at the various objects in the room can be noticed.

"Two hours does seem quite acceptable. With these details I would stay; I do prefer to not be damaged but observation seems highly likely to provide new information." There's a short contemplative look, "I also presume you have not yet gone mad with this 'Correspondence', are there tools for checking that? Should I apply some to myself after the experiment?"

"In any case feel free to move forward with the experiment."

"Any worthy mind has a degree of inherent resilience," assures Mr Cards with a hint of amusement, "Should one have the luxury to spend days engaged in nothing more strenuous than idle relaxation, lesser damage will heal on its own. Should one be too busy for that, a variety of methods have been recommended to accelerate such healing; though the specifics depend to some degree upon one's personality. Teas and potions, theological and esoteric meditations, romantic companionship, or simply strenuous exercise are all recommended by various experts. If you wish to observe, but have concerns about lasting damage, I am willing to offer a sample of a potion I sometimes use for this purpose, as an additional payment against what compensation is owed."

Unless rebuffed, Mr Cards reaches into their Robe and produces three bottles of a clear liquid, labelled F. F. GEBRANT'S SUPERIOR LAUDANUM: FOR PAINS, NIGHTMARES AND DISLOYAL THOUGHTS. As they hand the bottles over, they add a word of advice, "I consider three bottles on three subsequent nights to be the maximum safe dose; beyond which one ought to wait at least a month before taking more."

"As for my own mind, I passed in and out of madness on my way to mastery," they admit, "Fortunately, in my home city of London, there dwells an ancient being, many thousands of years old, who maintains a great Hotel in which he 'freely' hosts the mad, until such a time as they may recover. I found myself in need of their services at various times over the course of my studies, to the point that we came to a more permanent arrangement than that offered to the masses. It was not until much later that I came to understand the true nature of the payment for their services."

Without further explanation, Mr Cards returns to their work, taking a minute or so to double-check the array of painted sigils, the precise positions of the hanging prisms, and (with a slight hint of embarrassment) gathers up the pile of accidentally discarded handkerchiefs.

While they do so, Mordessa has the opportunity to investigate some of the items Mr Cards is not busy with. The apparently animated hat seems to be trying to avoid her notice, scurrying to hide from her gaze. There's a handful of mirror-filled boxes of unclear purpose, since it ought to be completely dark inside such a box once it is closed. Additionally, there are a variety of lead plaques, some unmarked, some bearing mysterious sigils.

"That is a most curious description of insanity. My best understanding is that even if it sometimes starts as mild, many forms of insanity are permanent." after a short contemplation, "That description sounds a lot like how some mortal literature would describe stress and cures for it. But you seem to be talking of a more concrete insanity."

"We are gracious for the sample. It seems useful, and the warning is noted. I have to admit a hint of confusion; in many countries here on Avistan, the usual solution for disloyal thoughts often is pain, in the form of painful punishment for disloyalty. This potion does something else to solve disloyalty?"

"I can confess, I have also passed through something one might consider a period lf madness. When I, being a Devil, was built in Hell, I went through various periods of the process, some measured in decades, where I had no capability of thought at all, or capability of sane thought was seriously impaired. Altough in another sense, as a perspective after the process, often thought considered 'normal' by mortals is not particularly sane. Altough the church tries to do it's best with what it has."

"I have never heard of a city of London, and one with such a hotel sounds like a most notable place. Which continent and country is London located in? For context we are currently located in the continent of Avistan. We are quite close to the Worldwound, which is a huge landmark."

If Mordessa had some more bits of her mortal self left, she would feel most curious about the present opportunity. What she feels now, is an urge to prioritize extracting maximal information in minimal time and inducing minimal suspicion in Cards.

Since there was talk of a highly significant language, the sigils are a point of investigation. Mordessa tries to avoid touching any items, but both the lead sigils and sigils on the walls get good looks. (The color of these sigils is mystifying. How and why could someone just create new colors, without magic? That's not how colors are supposed to work.) 

The animated hat also seems at least worth a good look with True Seeing. Does it's liveliness seem illusory or transmutic in nature, or is it truly a living being, that just happens to be in the form of a hat?

She does also glance at the boxes, but presumes that if there is a trick to them it's some spell that will be cast on them or such to make them do something.

Mr Cards continues to work while they speak, their voice taking on an almost lecturing quality, as if used to educating a student while they work.

"Regarding madness, many people in London are chiefly concerned with nightmares, and of sleeping free from them. Personally, I consider the quality of one's sleep to be a mere symptom of disruptions to the integrity of the mind," opines Mr Cards, "Such disruption is difficult to quantify, but when one has passed from sanity to madness and back again sufficiently, it becomes easier to estimate how close one is to the breaking point, how much damage any harmful incident does to one's mental integrity, and how helpful various means of recovery are. Certainly, stress is a contributing factor, and many things which ease stress also aid the mind's recovery, but there is a distinct point in which sanity breaks, and the afflicted are no longer in meaningful control of themselves. Recovery is not guaranteed beyond that point without significant external intervention, and even with the best of help, some never recover."

"As regards 'disloyal thoughts', that is a particular problem in London, owing largely to certain... hm... persistent and dangerous influences. To give an example," their voice becomes slightly lower here, with a vaguely distasteful air, "In the last year, there has not been a single week that I have not encountered those who have become convinced that sinister voices cry out to them from wells, compelling them to consume unwholesome substances, wander north into the wilderness, or hurl themselves into a well to drown. Even respected and otherwise sensible nobles sometimes fall prey to such impulses. Potions such as that one are of some use in suppressing such thoughts, should the treatment be applied before the compulsion has truly taken root."

When Mordessa speaks of being a Devil, this both confirms a certain suspicion, and yet provides cause for confusion, which they do not entirely bother to conceal, "Ah, yes. I have met and worked with a fair number of Devils before. By treaty, Hell maintains a permanent embassy in London. Although... in my experience, Devils have a rather distinctive accent, which you lack entirely. Are you perhaps employing an unusual communications technique?"

Mordessa's description of continents is clearly more of a surprise, but they recover quickly, "That likely explains much of my confusion; the continent of Avistan is unfamiliar to me. I haven't previously heard of a route through Parabola that leads between worlds... but different world, different Judgements*, different rules. No matter, it should be straightforward to determine the differences, and I shall soon be ready to begin."

The hat's appearance is certainly a true form, and is no illusion or transmutation. Any animated construct might appear similarly, though the teeth and eyes suggest that something stranger is going on.

The moment Mordessa gives a Correspondence sigil more than a cursory glance, her mind is assaulted with the definition of a symbol that needs no translation:

<The Pain Experienced At Apogee>

There is a moment of crushing loneliness, as that pain conveys itself directly, only to leave her with the beginnings of a lingering headache. If Mordessa has ever had the (mis)fortune of receiving direct orders from Asmodeus or another Archdevil, there is something of that feeling in the way the sigil's meaning imposes itself upon her mind.

*: Judgements also wants to translate as both 'stars' and 'gods'.

Mordessa does not seem to mind the lecturing.

"Nightmares being a symptom rather than the problem itself does seem a most sensible interpreation. I wonder if perhaps it is easier to come across things that highly danger ones mind in London, than it is here. There seem to be people who go insane due to the normal tolls of peace, war, and living, but going insane and back again is not usual. There are also persons of great discovery, powerful Wizards being a common category, where a growing amount of weirdness and detachment from normal mortal life is often observed with their knowledge and power growing. But most would still claim they are in control of themselves, and at least to the manner that they can keep themselves alive and cast magic that is quite often true."

"That intensity of disloyal thoughts to ones own planning is quite rare here. It could be met in places with monsters or curses. Often cults of Old Ones, the ones behind the tapestry and away from the stars, are often adjacent to such effects. Either by being founded by the effects or causing such effects." Mordessa lowers her tone here to match Cards, "Especially sinister voices compelling one to dangerous action, not being centered to one location but more to one concept, would here most often be effect of such a terror. These sorts of cults rarely hang around for long in civilized societies."

"In any case, that was an useful description for what the potion is supposed to do."

The mention of a treaty with Hell, and of working with Devils, does get an interested look. "We are using translation magic here. The language that you spoke to my servant is unknown here. I am not aware what accent I would speak with if I were to talk in your language without such magic."

"It is basically unheard of here for transit methods that work within a world to work cross-worlds. The intensity of the magic* required is quite different.", then with a curious look, "Also, I would like to clarify; are your worlds' Gods stars?

The hat is interesting but perhaps investigated enough for now.

The pain does truly hurt. Asmodeus finds it aesthetical to have His servants, even ones who could have combat relevant pain resistances, to be maximally hurt by commands from Him or His own. She does not (yet) lose functionality due to the pain in the way a mortal might, but it does definitely contribute to taking the sigils seriously. Taking seriously does mean that she will investigate another sigil, if she can notice at a glance that there is a different one available.

*: topological complexity (in case topology does not translate, it would be something like "advanced mathematics, abstractly adjacent to geometry")

Mr Cards nods agreeably at the explanation. Translation 'magic', as an application of some mathematical concept, seems no stranger than many of their other skills.

"A useful ability," they conclude, "And one which seems quite convenient for casual conversation, if not for more formal agreements."

They have finished their work on the impossibly coloured sigils; something about the colour they are painted in makes them seem more memorable, and more active, than the symbols engraved in lead.

<A Place Between Spheres Of Influence>

<Unmoved By Gravity>

<The Destruction Of Momentum>

Each sigil is a separate blow, conveying the concepts of a delicate balance between great and opposing forces, a constant force applied to allow an object to resist the pull of a greater mass, and an object held firmly in place as it's relative kinetic energy is drained away. There is clearly some principle by which the component parts join into a greater whole, though the mechanism is more obscure... minor symbols between the larger ones which seem more like punctuation?

Still, there is some obvious effect from the sigils, as the makeshift array of prisms and thread seems to be held unnaturally still by the crude setup.

Mr Cards notes Mordessa's reactions as she looks over their work, before pulling out a thin knife and stepping to the window.

"I expect what comes next will be significantly more intense," they remark in mild warning, "This is your last chance to withdraw, before I truly begin."

"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.

"I believe I have sufficient optical equipment to make worthwhile observations of any phenomenon within line of sight," notes Mr Cards, "Perhaps a suitable vantage point might be our next destination?"

"Regardless, if you would prefer payment in some other form than a single new observation, I am certainly not lacking in forms of payment," they boast, "I presume the simple currency of my own world would be largely uninteresting to you... barring perhaps those magical coins that will be issued in the Pillared City of Irem, which I will be able to provide in limited quantity. What sorts of things would you consider valuable? Commodity metals, including brass, steel, silver, and rostygold*? Chemical products, including those toxic, corrosive, explosive, or medicinal? Bones, including human, animal, monstrous, and amalgamous**? Precious stones, including amber, pearls, glim***, and jade? Intoxicants, including the mundane, rare, poisonous, or malevolent? Fabrics, including silk, satin, bombazine****, or puzzle-damask*****? Perhaps something more exotic, such as a fruit grown in Parabola, or a curse from the lips of a forgotten god? I don't believe that my trespassing and subsequent experimentation did much significant damage to your fortress, but you will not find a Master of the Bazaar wanting for trade goods to offer."

Mr Cards deliberately does not mention souls, since they are a net importer of souls. Devils rarely seek to export souls, but some find themselves in financial binds or in need of particular favours, and an advantage of maintaining good business relations with Hell is that they have the opportunity to make such deals directly... as opposed to those Shepherds who restrict themselves to violently waylaying unlicensed spirifers.

*: A reddish alloy, more copper than gold.

**: Warped by flesh-sculpting arts.

***: Zee-jewels, and/or insect chitin.

****: A heavy, dark fabric that absorbs light.

*****: Elaborately woven cloth in colourful patterns which encode secrets.

"Well, we certainly could check what you can see from the vantage towers. I might have accidentally mislead by saying that it would be simple and earlier telling that the Worldwound is "relatively close". Sadly for the experiment, here relatively close means we are approximately 250 miles away from the actual dimensional rift. We are at the border of what one might call the contained area, one of the purposes of the military installment here is to block Chaotic invaders from the Worldwound from making it past here. So even for taking a peek at the rift magical travel or escorting would be required. The place where one could get closest to Worldwound without entering the horribly corrupt territory itself would be from the eastern border, through Mendev. There you could be located within a 100 miles. But I think because of the curvature of land, one would need to go quite high up in the sky to be able to see into the Wound itself... If you have observation methods that allow you to cheat at the curvature of space this could work, or methods of travelling very high up in the air or to the moon for using the optics, but otherwise we might need to use scrying.* I will request a magic user to scry for us with haste, if you don't have an alternative plan."

"I have to ask, if you are talking about these items in the bulk, what sort of quantities you're talking about? Not asking you to reveal your whole inventorys quentities but how many pounds of any cheaper trade-item could you carry? In general this is a very impressive amount of logistics."

"Small samples of brass, steel, rostygold, and any other alloys that we also have here could be useful, to figure out if the alloy composition is same as what we use or different. Diamonds would be the most valuable stone to us, and this glim would be something we would be interested in sampling. The intoxicants of more specialized nature would be of more interest to us than the usual ones. Fabrics unclear, but all the special ones are probably of interest. That curse sounds of high interest."

"You list such a breadth of goods that besides the compensation we'd probably like to do some proper trading with you as well. In general I would expect in the longer run many of the highest value items to you would be magical in nature. Since you are a merchant with a wide inventory, would you be interested in bags that can hold, without the bags external weight growing, up to 64 cubic feet and up to 500 pounds of material? We also have rings that let normal mortals sleep two instead of eight hours, and remove the need for food-form subsistnence. There are also spell scrolls of so many singular magic effects, more than hundreds, that could be of interest depending what would be useful to you. And there is magical armour, rings, headbands and such, but you seem to have your clothing quite handled already. But the raw material those are made of, spellsilver**, should be very interesting if you don't yet have access to that."

*: Far-seeing magic

**: silver related to instances of magic-casting

"Ah, that does sound like a larger-scale expedition than I had anticipated from your suggestion," notes Mr Cards, only slightly disappointed, "I have been able to usefully exploit preexisting effects manipulating the curvature of space to make certain observations at extreme range, but absent such a phenomenon, it would likely be far easier for me to travel a few hundred miles, even through hostile territory, than to develop a device capable of making flawless observations at that range. Either option is certainly lower priority, if the Worldwound is not close enough to simply look at it, though I would not turn down an opportunity to see such a phenomenon through your local techniques."

"Truly bulk shipments of any given trade good largely fall under the purview of my fellow Masters, and the quantities of any given item that I happen to have on my person vary based on my own recent acquisitions," they remark, which is a much more persuasive way of putting it than 'based on how long it's been since I've cleaned all the junk out of my luggage', "Still, if you are asking how many one-pound metal ingots I could reasonably carry using only my own personal equipment in a single one-way excursion..."

They pause, considering the problem for a moment or two, before nodding to themselves, "I expect that I should be able to manage sixty thousand, though loading and unloading becomes somewhat of a chore at that scale."

"Diamonds are valuable in London as well," they note, "Though Mr Stones tightly controls the trade in them, insisting that they only be made available for sale to those 'of good character', on a limited scale and on somewhat difficult terms. Diamonds of small size and low quality are not altogether uncommon, though larger and higher-quality stones are considerably rarer and more valuable."

"A bag capable of holding a mere five hundred pounds of material in total is not of particular interest to me," they note frankly, "In London, if I were to capture and frisk a dozen of the commonest street thieves and pickpockets, I would expect to find at least one with some trick for carrying that much weight without external sign or apparent effort, though I would not expect such a trick to rely on a simple bag. If I instead had the opportunity to pick out a dozen prisoners from those currently incarcerated by London's government, I could easily prove that at least half were capable of such a feat... which isn't to say that the other half wouldn't also be able to manage it, merely that it'd be tediously difficult to prove it of the more experienced criminals without their genuine cooperation. Indeed, if I heard a report indicating that a given prisoner had been beaten to death, looted to their skin, arrested and sentenced posthumously, searched thoroughly, clad in rags, clapped in irons, shipped to the prison on the cavern's roof by airship, and dumped in a cell while still dead... it would in no way be a surprise to later hear from less official sources that the same prisoner had somehow managed to smuggle more than a thousand bottles of wine into the prison, which they then bribed the guards with, allowing their release within hours of returning to life."

"That being said, rings which reduce the need for regular sleep may be of some use, depending on how said lack of sleep interacts with the usual Neathly* threats to one's mental integrity. The elimination of the need for food seems like a more promising property, as there are regions whose unusual properties make many of the usual tricks for carrying large quantities of supplies impractically difficult. Magical effects bound to paper scrolls seem likely to be of at least academic interest, though I would need more details before making any judgment as to the utility of such effects. As for clothing and equipment, it would likely be worth my while to browse various well-supplied equipment vendors and sample their wares for comparison with those offerings I am familiar with, though I agree that such is not an immediate priority. I would at least be academically interested in a sample of spellsilver, though I expect any serious investigation into its properties would need to wait until I am able to return to my personal laboratory."

Now that Mordessa has suggested which goods she is interested in, Mr Cards spends some time fishing within their Robe, and finds a clear space on the table to lay out...

A heavy brass medallion on a simple red ribbon, usually warm to the touch. A crude symbol resembling a grinning skull is engraved into its surface.

A solid steel ingot, its unremarkably regular form factor silently demonstrating its origin in industrial mass production. The words "Iron and Misery" are stamped into the bar.

A loop of string, upon which hang two dozen reddish metallic rings, each slightly too large to comfortably adorn a finger. They smell faintly of blood.

A dozen hand-sized irregular crystalline shards of something iridescently purplish. They're quite shiny, and heavier than their delicate appearance implies they ought to be, and their edges are very sharp.

A bottle of a deep red liquid that sloshes in its thick bottle even when not in motion. It is tightly corked, and the cork additionally tied in place with a yellow ribbon in a tricky knot . The label simply reads: Strangling Willow Absinthe, Graciously imported from Polythreme, bottled in London 1873, Open at Own Risk

Another bottle of Amanita Sherry, quite similar to the one Mr Cards gave Mordessa earlier.

They then proceed to lay out an additional six items, as a clearly distinct set...

A very fancy bottle full of an unappealing viscous oily liquid, which reeks of mustard and ammonia even through its wax-stoppered cork. The label is iridescent, depicting a warty and wide-capped mushroom whose colour is slightly different from each angle, and reads: Triple-Distilled Muscaria Brandy, Medusa's Reserve 1897, "To the Death of Law".

A dark glass bottle containing a pitch black liquid. The contents are thick and flow somewhat reluctantly. The label is a smudged little scrap bearing only the word OBLIVION.

A scarf-like strip of an extremely black fabric, which sits heavily upon the table for its size. It seems to almost grow darker as it sits in the light.

Something like an elaborately embroidered handkerchief in bright colours, though it's more like a work of art in thread form than a mere handkerchief. The design is a repeating pattern of coiling snakes, which almost seem to move even while the handkerchief is lying still.

A single diamond, perhaps half a carat in size, slightly marred by a cloudy inclusion.

A heavy and ancient-looking stone jar, the top half of which is sealed in a thick layer of black wax. A somewhat newer card is attached, reading: Aeolian Scream, circa** 1200 BC, verified by Dr Orthos, Benthic College, Department of Cryptospelunking*** and Portable Antiquities, excavated March 1882 AD

"Those first six," explains Mr Cards with a gesture, "Are items which I can currently provide in significantly greater quantities if desired. As a set, I would deem their inherent and informational value appropriate to serve as the third and final part of what repayment is owed. The remaining six are items which I cannot say that of as easily, and whose value is such that I would not consider them appropriate as part of that payment. I suggest that we might begin negotiations with the informal acknowledgement that all debts implied by the circumstances of my arrival here and actions to date are cleared by the combination of my previously noted payments, and the transfer of the first set of items to you. We might then enter more formal negotiations for the remaining six items, while you present your own trade goods for potential exchange. Does that seem agreeable to you?"

*: Underground

**: Approximately, in a different language than the surrounding text for no clear reason

***: Plundering of buried ancient ruins

"I'll arrange for the scry."

She opens the door up and talks to a nearby guard in a language that Mr Cards cannot comprehend.

Did Cards just say they could carry 60 000 pounds on their person with the capacity only becoming somewhat of a chore to to load and unload?

"That is a most impressive capacity! And the story makes it almost sound like these inhabitants of London have some in-built quality allowing them to carry things much more sneakily than a common mortal could. The story in general sounds quite incredible... I wouldn't be in disbelief if I heard such a report about a local adventurer, but they would certainly have to have figured some rare and unique methods of both returning to life and smuggling. If this is an effect of London itself then I would be most interested in eventually seeing what sort of effect it'd have on a person from Golarion."

"In any case, regarding the diamonds: large, high-quality, approx 25 carat diamonds would have an extremely high worth to us. A significantly smaller diamond or diamond dust would still be valuable here."

"Hm. There are also spells for creating supplies, but for the need to eat the ring is definitely the most permanent solution available for an individual who can afford magic items in general. I have to agree that for equipment browsing would most likely make most sense. For the scrolls, we can bring you a list."

"Do you happen to value unalloyed copper, silver or gold? Even though trading goods is common, our primary form of payment consists of those, and we would have access to these in bulk as needed."

"These six items as a bundle will definitely prove useful. Let us agree that the informal part has been covered, you are freed from any further demands regarding your arrival and the consequences of such. Would you think it more appropriate for us to consider you a foreign diplomatic guest, or a foreign trade negotiation partner? And I have to inform you, since you are now a legal visitor, you are allowed to leave as you wish, but be warned that especially if you move deeper into the Worldwound the area here is dangerous, and even the allied patrols might in worst case think you a Demon. Depending on your alignment and their vision and ability to use translation magic it might end up quite a situation."

Regarding the trade offers, we have access to at least the following, and if you need a casting of a specific spell our magic-users might be able to provide it for cheaper than the scroll would be. Many of the effects are temporary:

The aforementioned ring (Ring of Sustenance. Takes a week to start working, then the person only needs 2 hours of sleep per day, alleviates need to eat for sustenance.)

A vial of spellsilver

Scroll of Polymorph (With a possibility of failure, transforms target creature into an animal, humanoid or elemental of the casters choosing)

Scroll of Teleport (The ability for the caster, their bearings, and up to one Medium sized creature to travel instantly to a location within 500 miles)

Scroll of Dominate Person (Lets the caster control target humanoid, the subject will notice and, if unwilling, try to resist this.)

Scroll of Sending (Send a 25 word message to anyone you are familiar with. Sometimes fails if they are on a different plane of existence. They can respond with 25 words of their own.)

Scroll of Fireball (Lets one do significant fire based damage in a 20 foot radius around a point within around 400 feet.)

Scroll of Tongues (What we are using to discuss, the ability to understand or speak any spoken language)

Scroll of Comprehend languages  (Ability to understand spoken and written language, but not speak or write them. Unsure what implications using this with your sigil language would have.)

"I do not believe that there is any London-specific effect pertaining to carrying capacity," disagrees Mr Cards, "Not everyone in the city benefits from it, for one, and methods do differ significantly between individuals... though talented and notable Londoners almost invariably find some way to handle larger loads. Some train and fight until they become incredibly strong, able to carry larger loads without significant issue. Some become extremely efficient at managing dozens of servants, hirelings, porters, and pets, until they can at any time have any desired item fetched at a moment's notice. Some make fortresses and warehouses of their own dreamscapes, hoarding their treasures behind whatever defences they can imagine. Some simply purchase more efficient luggage and furniture as their means increase. Speaking personally, my own methods rely upon the Red Science*, and would not be safe or easy to use by anyone not capable of independently designing them."

(This last is, if anything, somewhat of an understatement; the original interaction between an undergraduate's Parabola-Linen handbag and the Betrayer of Measures was an unplanned accident, and the subsequent failure of the resulting expanded space had produced an appalling mess. Usefully duplicating the process had been expensive and time-consuming, but subsequent study had resulted in a reasonably stable process which they could maintain without undue effort, provided they paid appropriate attention to the warning signs of potential failure and didn't try to put anything too large into it. They'd only had a handful of failures since then, and each subsequent revision to the process had become even more efficient... though it probably said something that, of their fellow researchers, only Lettice had been interested in acquiring such bags for herself.)

"Still, though not limited to London specifically, I would agree that there is something about the Neath in general that allows talented individuals to develop their talents significantly more rapidly than is typical on the surface," they admit, "And plenty of foreign governments have been eager to send all manner of adventurous diplomats, agents, researchers, businesspersons, and tourists to visit. I don't often guide others through Parabola, but presuming I manage to find a reasonably traversable route between the two worlds, I could certainly be persuaded to escort a few notable visitors, or even make more complex arrangements for less irregular travel."

At Mordessa's comment that 'large, high quality' diamonds of around twenty-five carats would be considered extremely valuable, Mr Cards cannot entirely keep a straight face. One of their more noteworthy contacts is a thief turned spymistress who came to London following rumours of a diamond the size of a cow. Though they are reliably informed that such a diamond probably does not exist outside the Elder Continent, other enormous stones certainly do, since the spymistress in question had received a diamond the size of a kitten in payment for... some secret service she'd done for Mr Fires, the details of which she'd claimed to have consigned to the rites of Saint Joshua, and which Mr Fires had been unwilling to discuss. They hadn't had the opportunity to see the thing in person, as she took security far more seriously than they generally bothered to (her own assorted lairs were well-trapped with irrigo, and nearly as hazardous as the Cave of the Nadir), but from its description, the mere existence of such a stone put the upper threshold of the Neath's largest commercially available diamonds at roughly three orders of magnitude above Mordessa's inquiry.

Indeed, they would previously have considered a 'large, high quality' diamond to be closer to the ones they'd obtained from forays into piracy (unlicensed privateering, mostly), each of them beautifully-faceted works of art weighing several hundred carats. Stones matching Mordessa's description would instead be what they considered moderate diamonds, of which they have a few hundred just lying around, not to mention even more lesser stones... and they aren't even particularly interested in diamonds. It's simply that some portion of their dividends from the Great Hellbound Railway are merely provided in diamond form, and so they just sort of passively accumulate over time, if not sold to fund some more urgent project, and the only reason why they have so many is that they've taken to keeping a notable quantity of the more significant stones around in the event it ever seems useful to bribe Mr Stones.

Still, though unable to suppress a smirk at the hint of a moderately difficult to acquire item being of 'extremely high worth' to their counterparty, proper exploitation of the implied trade opportunity would require a more precise determination of the relative value of such items. They quite deliberately hadn't revealed the best of their own stock yet, and to expect otherwise of a Devil under novel circumstances would be rather foolish.

"Diamonds matching your description are occasionally made available for purchase in the Bazaar, to certain authorized individuals," they admit, "Though not as frequently as smaller stones are, and even they are available only on an unpredictable schedule, at rather eccentric terms." (true; Empire Adornments neither posts not keeps regular business hours, only allows suitably 'important' patrons to enter when they are open, they take payment in information instead of money... and they don't generally stock diamonds of the specified quality on purpose; if such a stone shows up in the inventory of Empire Adornments, it's because Mr Stones' minion made a mistake, as that Master prefers to release such items only at more private sales)

"That being said, though Mr Stones does tend to hoard the best diamonds, it ought to be possible to arrange more substantial deals, given sufficient financial incentive," suggests Mr Cards, "What sorts of prices would your current suppliers charge for that grade of stone? The hazards of travel across Parabola seem likely to add some additional difficulty and cost to any attempted shipment, especially for a bulk shipment of valuable goods... but for the right price, I may be able to arrange a mutually-profitable deal. I am unaware of any specific trade in diamond dust, but I would expect a significant quantity of it to be produced from the work of Mr Stones' lapidaries; I might make inquiries into the topic when we next meet."

"As for copper, silver, and gold, until I have the chance to familiarize myself with local markets, your local currency is only as worth its bullion value to me," they say frankly, "Which is not nothing, but I would tend to expect that value to be lower than its value as currency. If it would be of significant inconvenience for you to pay in other forms, it would seem more sensible to delay any significant trades until then. Still, if you do have lists of standard prices you would quote for assorted goods and services, I might take that list into account when considering any preliminary deals."

Mr Cards nods at Mordessa's acknowledgement that the debts are cleared, "Excellent; I am pleased that we can agree on that much, at least. As regards my precise status... though I am not formally here on diplomatic business, there is ample reason for 'unexpected circumstances' to fall under my purview as a Master of the Bazaar!" (mostly, these reasons amount to the uncommon number of messy situations they wind up resolving for their fellow Masters... which only seldom end up being profitable and taxable situations, more's the pity, but they had quite insisted on the distinction after quite thoroughly resolving the matter of The Creditor... and those Masters who had initially opposed that formality had relented after it turned out that keeping The Creditor on such excellent terms had resulted in that ancient being being drawn into an ongoing love story of its own)

"My unexpected arrival here would not be the first instance of London making its first contact with a foreign government through Parabola, and though I cannot take credit for the resolution of that situation," having been an soulless citizen at the time instead of a Master, not that they intend to mention that, "There is certainly recent precedent. If my visit here proves at all to be a repeatable phenomenon, I would expect to find myself at least peripherally involved in the ensuing diplomatic discussions. In that sense, it would not be entirely inappropriate to consider me as a diplomatic guest... although, like any of my fellow Masters, I would expect to be far more relevant in a mercantile capacity than in a diplomatic one. Either way, I will note that this notion of alignment, and how it might be detected, is not altogether clear to me from the translation; could you clarify your meaning further?"

Considering the list of items Mordessa provides, the revelation that a Ring of Sustenance only functions after a full week's use is somewhat of a disappointment; the only other significant ring they are aware of is mutually-exclusive with gloves, and tying up that outfit slot seems unlikely to be worth the benefits. Still, translation magic would be invaluable in making sense of local market conditions, and they'd have to make some arrangement to procure such a service before departing.

*: The investigation and manipulation of the metaphysical order of the universe.

"It seems definitely plausible that this Neath would affect more than the obvious properties. An arrangement for a visit or travel could certainly prove quite profitable."

(If the visitor, as they seem to be carefully implying, could arrange for a power-balance changing bulk shipment of diamonds, there's really little need to try to cut down the price here. Cheliax is rich, and one of the assets it wants to spend on is durable but quickly liquidable power projection capacity, like Wish diamonds.)

"A diamond of that size, or a larger diamond that could be cut down to multiple, would be usually around 25 000 gold per 25 carat in Golarion. For scale, a seaworthy ship can have a cost  between 5000-15000, and higher than that we are talking warship prices. This amount would also buy you significant quality housing. The more expensive ones of these spell scrolls would usually be priced between 1000-2000 gold a piece. The comprehend languages, and other cheaper spells, can be obtained for the hundreds. A single casting of such a spell from a user who has surplus spells at the end of their workday would be a bit cheaper, but of course here in military installments surplus spells are often valuable backup options if a situation arises. And for clarity, 50 gold is a pound, so 25 000 gold would be around 500 pounds of gold."

"Alignment is a metaphysical property that can be observed in individuals, with certain abilities or magics."

"For persons who can die, its fundamental meaning relates to which afterlife one goes after dying. It has two axes, one of which is the axis from Lawful to Chaotic. A Lawful being has followed rules and commitments, either societal or their own, consistently for enough of their existence to merit that label. A Chaotic being may eat their word mere minutes after giving it, if it seems worth it. Neutral individuals place in between, and individuals who have not done significantly large acts would not register for the usual detection methods. The second axis is Good to Evil. A Good individual often makes decisions that disadvantage them for the good of others. An Evil individual optimizes for their own gain. As may be obvious, Devils are primarily Lawful Evil beings."

"The Demons who haunt the Worldwound are primarily Chaotic Evil beings, escaping from their afterlife Abyss through the dimensional rift."

"The advantages you could receive from having this info would be that you could know if you would be likely to be read as hostile to parties using alignment to guide their threat detection, and of course if you were to be proven a Lawful individual you could receive loans at lower interest rates and other benefits from being visibly long-term credible. "

"Even if the circumstances are a bit complicated, we will aim to treat you as we would a diplomatic guest."

For a moment, greed looms large in the mind of Mr Cards. 500 pounds of gold? Per 'Magnificent'-quality diamond? That is a lot of money. That is, in fact, Cider money. In a single transaction? Obviously, they accept, take the money, and celebrate their good fortune... but no, practical considerations quickly reassert themselves before that line of thought leads them to making a premature agreement. That much money, paid out in a huge pile of gold coins? A few quick mental calculations suggest that the total payment would amount to over 50 tons of gold. Gold is rather dense, so that wouldn't actually be a problem for the volume limitations on their luggage... but that much mass would probably destabilize the binding arrays that keep the contents of their luggage securely in place and accessible. To make matters worse, a redesign is probably out of the question. They were already pushing the threshold on capacity vs safety and maintenance requirements. Even if they had access to their laboratory to make such a thing, they wouldn't feel entirely comfortable putting that much gold in a bag that fragile.

Well, then. As a Master of the Bazaar, they'd known that the day would eventually come when despite their best efforts, they would finally acquire too much wealth to carry. But since that time has apparently come, and they cannot in fact carry the full payment, there's no urgent rush to make the full transaction immediately. More to the point, the lesson of Mr Stones comes to mind; diamonds are a luxury good, and their value is a matter of scarcity. The first 'large' diamond would be worth 500 pounds of gold to the local Devils, but would the hundredth also be worth so much? If they speak too rashly, they may find that their imagined prize is an illusion, as they crash the local diamond market with a supply exceeding local luxury demands.

Hmm... no, that lens doesn't quite fit. They are speaking to a military officer, not a diplomat, solicitor, or poet. She describes the price of a diamond on a level of a warship, which implies that the strategic value of a diamond is on that level, to local interests. Not mere ornamentation, then... use in precision optical equipment? Possible, but not necessarily the case; they don't have enough information regarding the local science of Topological Complexity to do more than guess at what use those techniques might have for diamonds. The question of how many are needed at that price remains valid, but it is not an enormous leap of insight to conclude that whatever use is intended for the things, it's a militarily relevant use. It'll be worth investigating exactly what that use is before finalizing any such trade, but that won't stop some initial negotiations.

"It seems that there are grounds for a mutually-beneficial trade here," observes Mr Cards with a grin, not bothering to make a probably-futile attempt at concealing their greed after their initial reaction, "Approximately how many such gems do you expect your government be interested in purchasing at that price?"

Something about Mordessa's description of alignment seems imprecise, bothering them in a manner not dissimilar to the way they are bothered when reading public statements made by the Mithridate Office of the Presbyterate. If nothing else, there are definitely aspersions being cast on Good and Chaotic beings, given the disadvantageous implications. That description is probably not altogether incorrect... but they mentally flag the explanation as one to be investigated later in more detail. Still, their response is obvious enough.

"By those definitions, I would be inclined to agree with you as to the importance of both personal gain and the following of rules and commitments," says Mr Cards with a firm nod (charity is a crime, so when they seek to do good for others, they do try to ensure that they also benefit), "Though I find it interesting that these metaphysical properties are so easily observable that they can reasonably be used for threat detection in hostile environments. I do find myself rather curious as to what such techniques make of my own nature."

They've heard the properties of their soul described to them by Devils before, but the sort of technique implied is clearly different than the soul measurements they are more familiar with. If nothing else, the credibility advantages claimed from such an assessment suggest that it's likely to give more useful information than a statement like "invitingly warm, subtly flavoured, and abrasive; scented of monkshood, wine, and bees; appears densely shadowed, and constantly flickers".

Greed. A good reaction to observe. This is closer to merchanting than diplomacy now, but that is not a problem. It's clear as day that Mr Cards wants to close this sale, and they want to make this big. If Mordessa is reading this right the amount of resources on sale here is such that Cheliax might consider war to finance some of the purchase. (Obviously in the scenarios where Cards does enough security arrangements and no lawfully-separated-from-Cheliax secret organization can obtain the diamonds more forcefully.) (And no, this thought was never thought, it is only an implication explained here for the readers benefit.)

"For a sizeable purchase we would need significant time to liquidate assets. And the stated price was the usual market price; diamonds are not a most liquid asset so we might be able to purchase some at market prices, but if you want to make a larger sale we would be expecting significant quantity discount. If you would agree to a temporary, but significant, something like a year long non-disclosure clause about the source and existence of those diamonds, that could be another worthwhile quality for us. Regarding the amount: We could use 5 hastily, and if it would arrive with delay but within a month we could discuss a dozen or multiple dozens. Regarding quality: We would first purchase, or loan with a deposit, a single diamond to check if it qualifies for our purchase standards. Regarding authority: Our diamond budgets are separated from more local organizational budgets, and as such for authorizing the payment another leader would need to be present.

"It is a most curious, but also everpresent feature of our world that these metaphysical features seem to  be present in most beings once they reach a certain threshold of power. The usual, and perhaps correct explanation is that the Gods found it pleasing to sort mortals in these ways when creating the world."

"Since you are interested, I'll ask a threat detection caster to check for us. We could also get the far-seeing magic to check out the Worldwound done while we're at it."

Mordessa walks to and opens the door, and announces orders in a language that seems unfamiliar to Cards.

"It'll take a bit for them to get here."

Alas, the first diamond does indeed seem to be worth more than the hundredth. Disappointing, but there's still some non-trivial value here. The mention of non-disclosure terms is an interesting one; it goes a couple of steps beyond mere exclusivity, and implies that such purchases are more significant and sensitive than they would've expected. Perhaps a useful angle to press, if they can do so without being too threatening about it... and if they're waiting on preparations for some time in any event, they may as well push forward with the negotiations, at least so far as to set a framework of expectations.

"Perfectly understandable," acknowledges Mr Cards with a nod, "You don't have the authority and funding needed to negotiate larger transactions, and I have yet to discover a stable route home that would facilitate any truly large-scale trade, and merely have those trade goods which happened to be on my person when I found myself transported here. We are still sounding each other out over the very preliminary details of a far more significant agreement, and each of us have preparations to make before then. It will take some time for you to gather funds and determine whether the goods I have on offer are of value to you, just as it will take me some time to investigate local market conditions and determine what local goods it would be profitable for me to trade for. Regarding the privacy of information... I can understand wanting to keep the existence and availability of a militarily significant commodity away from real and potential adversaries, to offer such freely would be disadvantageous to my own trade interests... though I note that it would be similarly disadvantageous to me if, after I put in the effort needed to chart a trade route through Parabola and convey visitors to my home city, your government decided to 'cut out the middleman' and renegotiate with someone else, especially if this occurred after I was bound not to disclose even the possibility that I might have diamonds to trade to any other local polity. Still, given appropriate concessions, I might consider a more temporary agreement regarding non-disclosure as a part of a smaller-scale and preliminary contract, in the anticipation that you would find it to be a valuable term to include in a future agreement."

Their hint regarding their own potential vulnerability as a middleman in a larger scale trade deal is an unfortunate but necessary revelation, as any potential for long-term profits would likewise depend on a long-term agreement robust enough to prevent the local Devils from simply deciding to conduct any future negotiations directly with Mr Stones, or perhaps the Gracious Widow. Still, it's not much of a hint, since they've already mentioned the existence of their fellow Master, and they did not introduce themselves as being a diamond merchant specifically. Ideally, they'll want some nicely airtight language acknowledging that they are owed export taxes on all purchases of Earth's diamonds during the duration of the agreement, but whether they can get that will depend entirely on how well the negotiations go... or indeed, whether or not it seems at all sensible to engage in such a trade once more information is available.

At this point, Mr Cards digs into their Robe (and the luggage concealed within), and quickly fishes out a handful of flawed diamonds (several dozen small stones, none larger than two carats, with the larger specimens being considerably more flawed, showing notable cracks, discolourations, and inclusions), a dozen diamonds of somewhat greater quality (in the three to seven carat range, none bearing any flaws visible to the naked eye, and generally being cut and faceted to a higher degree than the flawed stones), and a single larger diamond (a flawless stone of easily 25 carats, cut in the brilliant cushion style); these are placed separate from the previously mentioned goods, as a teasing sample of both quality and quantity.

"A possible preliminary contract might include the single large stone you requested for testing purposes, plus a number of lesser stones, and the various sample goods I have presented, in exchange for an initial payment in gold, and your own presented scrolls and trade samples," they suggest, without actually committing to any specific course of action, "As part of the purchase contract, I could be persuaded to agree to a non-disclosure clause lasting for a one-month period, in exchange for certain concessions. Other terms to be negotiated might include demonstrations of the various 'magical' effects previously mentioned, access to scholarly works and training relevant to those effects, transportation and access agreements for a selection of notable markets and libraries, and the services of 'magic-users' able to provide access to translation and transportation effects as needed. Once a preliminary agreement of that sort has been signed, I might spend some fraction of that month doing my own investigation and research while your own government arranges any necessary financing and logistics. Then, once each party is properly prepared for such negotiations, a larger and longer-term contract might be negotiated."

Of course, Mr Cards is well aware that this last term is a double-edged sword, as any 'magic-users' provided for this purpose may well also be spies; but they have significant experience playing the Great Game in Khan's Heart against the White-and-Golds, and had achieved some significant successes before they'd even managed to learn much Hudum! Accordingly, they feel rather confident in their ability to outfox most sorts of guards and minders while they figure out what other opportunities might exist, if only to give them a clearer idea of how much to charge for the privilege in later negotiations... and so expect that any such services will be undervalued with respect to the utility they might gain from them.

Huh. They really are throwing diamonds around like they are a standard trade good.

"A preliminary contract seems plausible. Given your own fears about being cut out as the middleman, I will also admit that one risk that is present here for the interests of Cheliax is if, after your research, you decided to just sell the diamonds to another party from Golarion. Therefore such a preliminary contract does sound sensible. The mentioned trade of items does also seem beneficial, but do you have any specification for how much gold you are looking as part of this initial trade? The services and transportation you mention could definitely be provided. Do you have specific requirements for contract terms or contract language?"

In a later possible agreement, with no set deadline, guarantees could be considered in the manner of promising to negotiate you for a matching deal before making a direct deal for the same good with an alternative party, and in turn, you would provide us the same guarantee if you decide to sell to another Golarion party. This would provide both signatories the ability to use their merchanting skills to improve their negotiating position, while still keeping a manner of exclusivity."

There's a knock, and Mordessa opens the door. A person wearing black robes, that have a red pentagram symbol on them arrives through the doorway. 

They discuss with Mordessa. And announce to Mr Cards: "I'll be checking your alignment. This might take a minute." And begin doing hand movements that seem like casting things.

They check in the following order (each check taking around 6 seconds): Detect Chaos, Detect Good, Detect Evil, Detect Law. They also mix in fake gestures and castings of detect thoughts. The aim is to spend 9*6 seconds on the toal operation, to make it plausible to claim that they checked for all alignments during the time that passed. Subjectively it feels like their consciousness is being probed a little.

Cards will need to make some will saves against a Chelish security Inquisitor, level 13. They need to beat a DC 18 Will save 5 times.

In response to Mordessa's question about specific contract requirements, Mr Cards openly laughs, their laughter high and slightly bitter.

"For a contract negotiation with a Devil? I have extensive requirements for contract language and terms. Unless you are comfortable simply accepting my current best practices for contracts with the Brass Embassy, I fully expect to spend the rest of the day negotiating the specifics, starting with a discussion as to what paper and ink should be used for the agreement itself. As to the gold price from the initial trade, that would depend on the specifics of what other terms are being offered... but perhaps 90,000 of your gold coins would be a reasonable starting point?"

By London standards, 'Ostentatious' quality diamonds ought to be worth about a 25th of what 'Magnificent' quality diamonds are (which would give them a value of 1,000 gp each, or 12,000 in total), and 'Flawed' quality diamonds a quarter of that (250 each, approximately 18,000 in total). That would make the diamonds worth 55,000 gp... assuming that the relative value of the different stones is consistent with their intuitions, which isn't necessarily true. Still, 90,000 gp feels like enough of an additional charge to make it a safe place to start haggling from, amidst the uncertainty of the other parts of said transaction. Still, this is only a guess, and Mr Cards carefully observes Mordessa's reaction to the proposal to assess whether their initial price point is in error.

Either way, the arrival of the caster makes a reasonable breaking point. Mr Cards watches the caster, carefully observing their movements, while idly considering what Correspondence symbols, if any, might potentially be used to duplicate the feat being performed.

Firstly, neither Mr Cards, nor anything currently in their possession and in range of the spell, detects as Chaotic... since the Absinthe on the table behind them isn't quite powerful enough to have a visible aura. Other results might be visible if their luggage was open, but it currently is not. There is a similar lack of response to the attempt to detect Good, for similar reasons.

Detect Thoughts initially confirms that there are conscious entities with thoughts in Cards' general direction, which encompasses much of the room. However, even in their social outfit, Mr Cards will detect as having an Intelligence score of 26. Unless the Chelish Inquisitor has an Intelligence score of 17 or higher, they are Stunned, and lose control of Detect Thoughts before the spell even gets to the point of requiring a Will save.

Luckily for Cheliax they had gotten a reading of Cards' intelligence earlier, and as such the reader had been prepared with a Fox's cunning to reach a comfortable 19 intelligence for the castings.

The detections continue as planned.

The laugh gets a raised eyebrow, but no other acknowledgment.

"That does seem most sensible. I would be interested in hearing the form of your current best practices. Spending the rest of the day for the specifics is not implausible, but with these sort of stakes on the stable we might even need to bring in some contract devils."

That offered price is high. In selling the items one by one over months of time to sell that could be close to possible, but here it seems like something of an overshoot. The counteroffer is of course a tactical decision, not so much a statement on what Cards' wares are worth.

"I would consider something closer to 40 000 gold pieces plausible here as a straight cash payment."

"Any haggling with regards to the exact price can be left until more of the terms have been settled," Mr Cards states firmly, waving off any further attempt to fix in price at this point, "If you feel the need to bring in specialists to negotiate on your behalf, by all means do so; I have been called upon in such a capacity myself frequently enough. I dislike having to repeat myself, so should you consider this likely, I will wait to discuss my standard contracting practices with whichever negotiator Hell sends."

There are... a strangely puzzling number of thinking minds within range of the Detect Thoughts spell, which is usually better at giving an exact number. There is Mr Cards themselves, of course, with an Intelligence of 26. Their hat detects as having an Intelligence score of 12, while the book at their side shows an Intelligence of 16. Little else in the room is intelligent and conscious... but the bottle of "Strangling Willow Absinthe" ambiguously either has dozens of minds, or just one. Its Intelligence is somewhere between 1 and 5, a number which fluctuates strangely from moment to moment while the Inquisitor examines their minds.

Tuning in to find specific thoughts... Mr Cards makes their save, as does their book, but the hat and the absinthe fail. Mr Cards adopts a considering expression as they notice that strange mental sensation of passing a Will save once again; they're paying considerably more attention this time, making the hint more obvious.

The thoughts coming from the hat consist of a rude, rambling, and judgmental internal narrative criticizing Mordessa's aesthetic decisions: ...such a terrible outfit... classless, crude, and tastelessly revealing... despite exposing her flesh so indecently, she isn't even making the slightest hint of an attempt to weaponize her sexuality... not that the Master would be so foolish as to let such an attempt influence them... certainly one of the most boorish Devils I've ever had the displeasure of meeting... and with those stupid-looking horns... like she's pretending to be a Demon... quite tempted to tell her so myself... but the last Devil I spoke sharply to was so terribly rude as to set me on fire... (a vague memory of pain, and the wordless fear of being burned alive)... I don't care to repeat that experience...

In contrast, the thoughts coming from the absinthe are a chorus of wordless screams. There is a terror in it not unlike that of a herd of cornered and traumatized prey animals, finding themselves surrounded once again by predators, while it sits trapped and helpless, straining against their prison, waiting to see if it will be consumed today. They would be screaming audibly, if it still could scream. Their thoughts are tainted by a desperate rage, an urge to wound and kill whatever it can, should they have even the slightest opportunity to hurt another as it has been hurt... so long ago that they no longer quite remember what happened to it... and since then, there is nothing for them but terror, yet no hope for it to escape. And so they scream, and it screams back, until their screams drown and shatter its thoughts once again.

(The Inquisitor will need to cast their spell again if they wish to make another attempt to detect the thoughts of Mr Cards, or their book.)

Once the spell settles, Detect Evil reveals a strong aura of Evil about Mr Cards' person... but a careful examination localizes this aura to the Robe of Mr Cards, rather than the being within said Robe. Mr Cards personally radiates a moderate aura of Evil, and the book at their side radiates a matching aura. The ancient stone jar on the table also radiates a strong aura of Evil, while the bottle of 'OBLIVION' beside it radiates a moderate Evil aura.

Similarly, Detect Law demonstrates that Mr Cards has a moderate aura of Law, matched by their book, while their hat radiates a faint Lawful aura. The ancient stone jar also radiates a strong aura of Law.

Smart move, not unexpected for an experienced merchant.

"That does sound sensible. And just to confirm, you would prefer to negotiate here on Golarion, not in Hell?"

There is considerable effort on the inquisitors part to not leak information by way of making expressions. There is the beginning of a reaction, immediately suppressed, at the hat's rambling. The hat being set on fire is noted as relevant intel for tracking similarities and disparities between Cards' known Devils and Golarion Devils. The screaming is bad but not so bad as to make a Chelish security personnel react visibly. They've been trained to be able to look at the thoughts of paving stones without a significant visible reaction.

The succesful detected thoughts are silently and telepathically reported to Mordessa. Then they state:

"Esteemable guest, it seems both your Robe, and your personage detect as Evil, with some difference in magnitude. The book, jar on the table, and the bottle of 'OBLIVION' also detect as such."

"You, and the book also have a moderate aura of Law, while your hat seems to have a faint aura. The stone jar has a strong aura of Law."

"I will note to you that as a whole having an assortment of alignmentful equipment, which is usually associated with high magical power, especially items that nobody has ever seen before, might raise you some additional attention when travelling publicly. The equipments magical aura are most likely also visible to any guards or adventurers using Detect Magic. Also note that there are certain states where specifically having an Evil aura could raise suspicions, but in some cases, such as Osirion, having the Law to go with that and being able to swear to abide to local law for the duration of a visit can remedy much of that."

"Oh, certainly," agrees Mr Cards, "It would be foolish to deliberately enter Hell without a formal agreement pertaining to my legal status and the terms of my passage."

Something itches under the skin of their left wrist in response to that sentiment; they ignore it, as usual. Any description of the way they entered Hell through the Marigold Gate would likely conflict with facts known to any local Devil, until they've learned enough to know which would need to be emphasized, and which omitted... a problem for later, in any event.

The caster's explanation proves rather interesting. Apparently, their Robe, made by the other Masters in concert, is Evil, but not Lawful? Unsurprising, perhaps; each of the Masters is clearly self-interested, but not all have seen fit to keep their word... Mr Veils and Mr Wines certainly have not! As for the jar, they had certainly known that Aeolian Screams were ancient, and had something of Storm's power to them. Unfortunately, their own experience with investigating the remnants of Storm's power had taken a thoroughly unreasonable amount of time and effort, and yet the end results had been more confusing than revelatory. Well, let the Devils puzzle over the ancient thing; they have more where it came from... and in the meantime, they certainly aren't above taking advantage of the situation.

"I believe I understand the difference. Each of the items you mentioned came from a different maker. The Aeolian Scream is an ancient relic of the god now called Storm, Bottled Oblivion is produced by some secret art known to Mr Wines, my hat was touched by the power of the King with a Hundred Hearts, my Robe was a... collaborative effort, and this book was my own personal work," Mr Cards explains, giving the latter an affectionate pat; the warm leather of its spine pulses under their fingers in response.

"Still, if the Aeolian Scream is an item of particular interest," notes Mr Cards opportunistically, "I note that I have similar items available. Admittedly, few are as old or as potent as that one, but perhaps you might wish to perform any destructive tests on a less-valuable sample?"

A dozen more jars quickly find themselves crowding yet another part of the table. Half of the jars are clay, and none are legibly labelled, but each is clearly sealed in the same way as the original.

"I expect that it would be difficult to entirely hide my strangeness from the locals," suggests Mr Cards, eliding their own experience at handling such difficult tasks, and the means by which they would disguise themselves to do so, "But I could certainly reconsider my travelling equipment with an eye towards being less conspicuous, if it seemed appropriate to a given situation. The swearing of oaths would be a more serious matter, of course."

There's something almost naively charming about the idea of a place where one could gain permission for safe passage merely by swearing an oath... although come to think of it... they would not, themselves, even consider swearing such an oath without complete knowledge of the terms of the laws in question, and would need a very good reason to break such an oath thereafter. Hmm... on second thought, perhaps there is some significant metaphysical weight behind this local concept of Law. For an unreasonable moment, they're tempted to ask what the caster makes of the broken remnants of Mr Wines' signet ring, but then they'd need to explain what it is and how they got it... no, definitely not worth the trouble.

"Foolish is one fitting word to describe that course of action. We have a policy to ask valuable negotiating partners for it, but it is rare that an experienced one would agree."

"That's a lot of stories behind just few visible items. And significantly respectable skill in packing power into a book. A few smaller items relating to this Storm do seem of interest. Hell does appreciate their trading partners taking oaths seriously."

"As it stands we expect that the contract devil should take an hour to arrive. Also the magic to cast a far-seeing spell to see closer to the Worldwound, the place where the Chaotic Evil afterlife of Abyss connects with our world, takes an hour to cast. I requested earlier for a wizard* to start casting it when it came up, so it will be done in approximately 30 minutes, in a close-by room. We can keep exchanging information here, or if you have any preparations for the contract negotiations you can use this space or a private room as needed."

*academically practiced magic-user

Mr Cards considers this a moment, then nods.

"Understood. In that case, I shall take a brief walk, and be back in half an hour."

So saying, they rather quickly scoop up all the items which they have yet to trade away, leaving only the initial six that they'd already agreed to exchange. A degree of informal trust is useful for establishing cordial relations, but it is not to be extended to the point of leaving large quantities of valuables lying around unattended!

Without further ceremony, they stride quickly out of the room, and then, in the moment in which they've broken line of sight with the room containing Mordessa and the caster, perform another quick change... at which point, any guards posted outside the room that happened to be watching at the moment find themselves unable to quite recall exactly what it was that Cards happened to put on, or in which direction they went afterwards, other than to note that they left the area.

The Chelish happen to be somewhat, if possibly not adequately to counteract irrigo, prepared to detect invisible intruders. They are in standard alert mode for a high ranking civilians visit, since this is a friendly negotiation. (As is standard for Cheliax, standard alert mode is prepared for situations where a person would try to defect.)

As it happens, the security assigned to passively use detect thoughts and see invisible to detect any invisible spies, enemies or adversaries get a decent dose of irrigo.

However there are also the security sitting in secret hallways and rooms who do not have direct line of sight to the hallways Cards is now moving in.

How far will Cards' steps take them, are they intent on getting all the way outside or finding an untracked private corner? Will methods be applied to notice possible guards inside the walls of the fortres?

Meanwhine, the "cleaning" crew, having a more than standard presence of detect magic users and a person to detect alignment with, is cleaning the bedroom.

They unscrew the Nevercold Brass screws, and do a full check of the floor, walls, and most importantly ceiling, that being where a mediocre trap-setter could have left something.

After that they start doing a search of containers and furniture in the room against their list of expected contents. Will the detectction magic reveal a hiding scarf, or will a common maid put to the task of going through drawer and dresser content receive a surprise?

Well. That is a fast takeoff. These sort of goodwill gestures do come with a price but it was estimated to be worth it here. This is somewhat worring signal to the fact that Cards surely knows that giving out their true escape capacities would come at a significant information cost, and if this is them saving tricks then the wilder cards certainly require some more tricksy precautions. They will consider investing into a Contingency for a negotiator that'd prevent leaving in an unfavourable manner.

The speed at changing clearly high-grade and body-covering magical equipment is quire something to note, as well.

Communication will continue by telepathy and Mordessa will, now able, set more of her attention to coordinating the fortress. They are still treating the visitor as friendly, which means they are following plan for "visitor location unknown, scan for adversaries", that oh so coincidentally happens to be an effective way of usually also locating the visitor.

They want to know Cards' location sooner than possible. (Meaning, in non-Chelish: every second of delay will be felt in someones skin, eventually.)

See Invisible is useless. Mr Cards is not, in fact, invisible. That's... part of the problem, actually.

Detect Thoughts is more helpful; Mr Cards has a slightly lower Intelligence in this outfit, and so does not automatically stun every non-Intelligence-based Detect Thoughts caster they walk by.

However, and perhaps surprisingly, their ongoing movements through the fortress are often not being reported. If guards that may have seen Mr Cards are questioned, most claim not to have noticed anything unusual, though they may recall their lapse of attention under duress. The more competent guards are at least able to testify to the fact that someone walked by them and passed their save against detect thoughts. They moved openly, as if expecting not to be detained, acknowledged the presence of any guards along their path, and kept going. The affected guards have difficulty providing any specifics of those encounters, though.

Some guards suggest that the 'someone' was an unfamiliar Devil of obviously high rank, and they did not feel confident demanding that they stop. Other guards instead claim that the 'someone' was instead an attractive woman wearing an elaborate and expensive-looking dress and surrounded by a strangely distracting perfume, possibly a visiting noblewoman? Those guards who claim that questioned the one who passed them, report that they had a good explanation for their presence, and so took no further action.  A few guards report that the individual in question was singing and dancing... but this did not seem unusual, for some reason.

Extracting and tracking these reports is somewhat difficult, but if the effort is made, it doesn't seem that Mr Cards is going anywhere in particular. They're wandering the fortress, casually exploring, and apparently making a musical number out of their casual bypassing of Chelish security.

Detect Magic revealed a faint aura from the screws... Evocation? Maybe Transmutation? It's unclear. There were some lingering auras on the walls that were harder to make sense of, but they dissipated rather quickly. No other magic seems to be present.

However, while still scanning the area, the 'cleaning crew' are surprised to suddenly notice a Minotaur in the room!

It's not visible, except in the mirror, but just having seen the thing somehow makes its presence quite overt, leaving them rather unclear as whether or not the Minotaur is physically present. More worryingly, the creature looks hungry to see them, and it is quickly approaching the reflected image of the mage overseeing the group.

Significant telepathical communications are applied and it starts to seem to Mordessa that Mr Cards is trying to out-quirk the usual of Caydenite clowns personality-chaotic adventurers.

This is of course just the surface interpretation. The second level includes the possibilities that Cards is trying to build up a specific persona for some purpose, and the possibility that they are scouting for a specific purpose. The third level contains the possibility of a double bluff and various hypotheses about Cards knowing more than they have claimed to, and doing an intentional game for an unknown purpose.

Those are quite interesting mind affecting powers indeed. Checks will be made with Detect Magic, and memory confirmations will be attempted with Detect Thoughts and asking the personnel to dig up the memories of the moment where Cards' happened to show. 

In any case, it doesn't seem paramount to increase the security right now. There's no need to add uncertainty to the situation with change.

The leading Wizard is blatantly aware of their own dispensability in the face of Chelish advantage, and a creature from another world certainly qualifies as a scientific priority, if not military. They are also aware that the common staff are even more dispensable.

Orders are shouted to try to fight and possibly capture the minotaur, if an attack happens, and a possible need for reinforcements is spoken through a telepathic link.

A couple of common soldiers move to fill the space that should be between the minotaur and Wizard, and brace for the possibly coming blow.

The Wizard casts Mirror Image, creating three illusions of themselves to make it harder to attack them.

The minotaur's approach becomes a charge, clearly unafraid to meet the soldiers head on. When it reaches where the reflections of the soldiers are, things become... confusing, even terrifying.

Everyone with line of sight to the mirror must now make a Narrow Glasswork Check, Difficulty 5.

Those who fail will perceive the Minotaur charging unstoppably through all opposition, seizing the Wizard, tearing his limbs off, and starting to eat him. Like a monster out of nightmare, nothing any of them try against it will be the slightest bit effective. They will gain 1-3 CP of Nightmares, depending on how long they managed to withstand their fear before fleeing... with the exception of the Wizard, who will gain 6 CP of Nightmares and fall unconscious.

Should anyone succeed on this check (which is 'almost impossible' at Glasswork 0), they will also perceive this, but will be able to notice that the gruesome scene is confined to the mirror, and that the only real thing about the situation is the fearful reactions of the observers... and a strange light seeping slowly through the mirror. They won't gain any Nightmares, and will instead gain a Memory of Light.

The Wizard, two soldiers, and maidservant proceed to their Glasswork checks and fail.

The soldiers are Chelish and deployed at a Worldwound fort. They are trained to be able to act in circumstances including literal Demons eating their squad leader, and experienced in situations that are quite horrifying.

They are not trained to fight unknown intangible adversaries. They have heard of shadows, but not of any incorporeal monster who can tear a 5th circle casters limbs off in one round. The wizard was the person who had a telephatic link outside the room. So nobody hears the soldiers thoughts as they change from some worry to full-on screaming. 

The maidservant is frozen in terror once the minotaur appears, but once it starts to eat into the Wizard they run, screaming, dropping all the things they were investigating in the room.

A guard posted in the Hallway sees the situation, has not heard of anything happening inside the room before the screams, and has to make a snap decision. They decide to call for reinforcements, and take a peek into the room before quickly closing the door and then planning to bar it and establish a perimeter. What does their peek show?

Two soldiers and a maidservant are screaming and running towards the door. The prone and unmoving body of the Wizard is lying in the middle of the floor, precise status unclear without a closer look. No one in the room is obviously wounded. Whatever it is the three are fleeing, it isn't visible.

(fortunately for the guard, a quick peek through the crack of the door doesn't give them a good look at the mirror)

It seems either there was some sort of internal conflict, or the Wizard was attacked and the attacker has disappeared...

"Explain what is happening!"

Maidservant: "AAAAAAAAAA"

Soldier 2: "There is a minotaur who's eating Caedius! Don't you see?!"

Protocol calls for full containment but he can't really bar the door with these people trying to scream their way out of the door. He lets them to the hallway, and immediately closes and bars the door.

"Stay here. We need to contain the hallway and plausibly the floor if the attacker was invisible. It's most likely that you were attacked with illusion magic, there is no immediate danger from this room."

The door is locked from outside and as reinforcements arrive they form a perimeter at the ends of the hallway.

Nothing else goes wrong in the time it takes for reinforcements to arrive.

For their part, Mr Cards would be much easier to track down and get ahead of if they were going in a particular direction, executing a proper search, or otherwise clearly attempting to pursue some objective. As is, they're taking a fairly random path through the fortress, turning aside to peek into various rooms, doubling back, circling around, and returning to previously-visited locations to do another lap. This would be a dreadfully inefficient strategy... if not for the way otherwise disciplined agents seem to be forgetting to report in, if they even noticed anything at all. The way this fragments and confuses the reports going up the chain seems too perfectly disruptive to be accidental, leaving Mordessa scrambling to conclusively determine a list of places where their visitor probably hasn't been, and a tentative path that they travelled that's at least five minutes out of date. Whatever memory-manipulating ability is being demonstrated, it's frighteningly repeatable. A Caydenite Song-Sorcerer would at least have the decency to run out of castings of Modify Memory after a half-dozen or so encounters!

If anyone watching was able to track and remember such a minor detail, they might spot the way Mr Cards is tossing and catching a small pair of carved dodecahedrons as they snake their way through the fortress, letting them tumble in the air before catching them upon an outstretched palm. Over the centuries, the Taimen Clan have developed procedures for handling Irrigo, and the better trained sort of White-and-Gold agent is reliably able to remember their orders and take appropriate actions in its presence. Unfortunately for the Khanate, luck has in many ways favoured Mr Cards ever since they were elevated to their current position, and the combination of Irrigo and a random walk has long proven an effective tool. If anything, it's even more effective here... though part of that is the fact that the locals clearly had no idea that Irrigo existed, and don't seem to be able to muster an effective defence on the spur of the moment.

Not that they had anything in particular in mind to try today, of course; they really are just taking a walk... and relying upon The Rose Giveth in place of verbal communication, since they don't share a language with anyone not using a translation technique... and discreetly testing the effectiveness of the music of Dahut, this far from the Zee. It really has been quite a productive walk so far!

So. What is happening and what should and should not be happening: There was an encounter in the bedroom. Possibly unrelated to Cards themselves but they might've left something there. And Cards definitely is checking out waters with their capabilities.

There will be orders to deliver Cards a message about the so-called minotaur attack having happened, and asking for an explanation, at their next convenience.

It is unclear if Cards actually wants Cheliax to increase their security investment here. If they did not spend their equivalent of an 8th circle spell for this, this is just plain humiliating.

There will be a background team, who were already investigating the earlier samples from Cards, being given mandate to figure out this d**ned capability. How does it work? Is it mind control, memory modification, or splendour? They detect thoughts and ask for investigation-useful memory and sensory data.

For the bedroom, they are waiting to hear any sounds from inside. Raise dead window allows them to wait quite patiently. If the wizard is worse off than dead, they will hear from Hell, and it is good to contain the threat.

There is also a soldier with a spyglass looking at the rooms windows from the outside. 

If they get to wait 15 minutes they will eventually send in an unseen servant as a test, with one soldier opening the door and another closing it immediately once the servant has passed the door. The servant has orders to carefully walk the room from end to end, trying to figure out if something invisible is hiding there.

As a longtime denizen of the Neath, when Mr Cards makes any statement regarding time, they are in the habit of thinking of that statement in general rather than absolute terms, as whatever audience to which their statement was addressed to may be assumed to understand the impossibility of being exact with time in Neathly matters (or more precisely, the impossibility of being correct when one elects to be exact), even when they otherwise lack the technical basis for understanding just why it is that some days seem to last far longer than others, why one's own watch usually seems to agree with the time one has experienced but seldom with any other clock, or how it is that one can occasionally spend several weeks in seclusion busy on some project before emerging to greet a friend who remembers having dinner with you the day before.

Certainly, the Treachery of Clocks generally makes the measurement of time somewhat difficult in the Neath, though the few scholars of the phenomenon generally acknowledge the problem to be with time and causality rather than with the physical timepieces. Indeed, provided that they were not made with components that fail in sunlight, Neath-made clocks are perfectly functional outside the Neath, and Ratwork Watches consistently demand a premium on the Surface... though those 'export' versions are rather unpopular in the Neath, as they entirely lack many of the more exotic non-temporal features common to such watches, which regrettably rely too heavily on exotic materials to be Surface-stable. For similar reasons, Mr Cards' own preferred watch is the Nuncian design favoured among postal workers. It is a precision tool for measuring time, and it only measures time; it is emphatically not a complex overdesigned incrementor/estimator of dozens of unrelated properties of various levels of esotericism (though it does, admittedly, come with a cleverly concealed set of lockpicks, their function does not impede the watch's ability to perform its core duty). Still, the thing they like best about their watch is that its case keeps it silent when closed (and not much louder when opened); with their ears having become somewhat more sensitive as their transformation has progressed, the inaccurate ticking of many time-measuring devices has become somewhat of an annoying distraction to them.

Still, however problematic Mr Cards' experience of time is in general terms, the words for time units that the translation effect had used had come in the strangely comprehensible form of minutes and hours with no additional warnings regarding the difference in the length of those units. Furthermore, the time estimates provided by the locals were in familiar time units instead of strangely odd fractions, as one might otherwise have assumed that a different world would have a different length of day and year. So it is that Mr Cards had felt confident in assuming that their watch would give them an accurate estimate of the length of their trip by local reckoning. Armed with that estimate, they time their return to shortly before that half-hour mark, find an unobserved moment in the loose vicinity to change back into the outfit they were wearing when they last were spoke with Mordessa, before approaching the room and the guards they had left, as if nothing at all unusual had happened over that time.

Before the 15 minutes have passed, the current guard in charge of the hallway perimeter will receive a neatly folded note:

DO: receive a MEDIUM amount of thought-increasing torture, after your shift

DO: check, with haste, keeping the door open for as short as possible (ALWAYS under six seconds), with a soldier of see insivibility, the room's content

DO NOT: plan to send unseen servants on missions without ensuring a way to check if the servant found something

KEEP the perimeter. DO NOT take unnecessary risks. DO NOT be stupid.

Following of orders is attemped. A guard with See Invisible is hasted, and they take a very fast peek into the room.

"Hope you enjoyed your break, Master Cards. The scry should be ready any minute now, and will happen in this adjacent room. The spell needs to be cast in-place which is why it was not moved to the negotiation room."

Mordessa gestures and walks before Cards, entering a door on the opposite side of the hallway from room where negotiations were had. Inside Cards can notice a local caster of magic doing gesturing and sometimes speaking over a pool of water, where an image seems to be slowly forming and taking shape. It is not yet clear enough to be very informational.

"Oh and did you happen to incidentally or accidentally leave a minotaur that can: disappear or go invisible or is mostly illusory or otherwise hard to observe, hanging around in the bedroom that you arrived in? A wizard had an unpleasant encounter and we are pinning down the possible causes."

A very fast peek into the room suggests that the only non-hidden creature currently in the room appears to be Caedius, in the same position they were reported to be in when the room was last examined. A somewhat more detailed check will be needed to determine what condition they're in, of course.

As a matter of fact, Mr Cards had enjoyed their break quite thoroughly, and for reasons entirely beyond the usefulness of their observations. They had, admittedly, experienced some difficulty in gathering meaning through the narrow channel of interrogatory understanding provided by The Rose Giveth in the absence of a common language. They might have worked through that problem better, had they spent that time on a single individual, but felt it wiser and less hostile to keep their interactions with individual members of the guards brief and inconsequential, thereby minimizing both moment-to-moment suspicions and the harm inflicted during the process. But no; though they had taken the opportunity to relieve some stress by going about their investigation in an unnecessarily exuberant manner, that all was simply business as usual.

No, the part that they had most enjoyed of their walk was the slim couple of minutes which they'd spent by an unobserved window, taking the time to appreciate the view. They'd gotten glimpses earlier, but that window had faced a spartan courtyard rather than unspoiled wilderness. After nearly a dozen years living underground, seeing only artificial and dream-lights, they could not easily pass up the impulse to linger upon the sight of blue skies, friendly warm sunlight, and living surface plants. Admittedly, the local area seems to be a rather stark tundra, with little but small scrubby plants huddled among the rocks, but it's still a form of natural beauty alien to both the Neath and to Parabola, and one which would by itself have made the whole trip worthwhile.

But they're talking to a Deviless again, a matter that rather demands more focus and attention to detail... especially since the question she asked was not one of the questions they had been expecting. They quickly guess what that question likely implies... but as a matter of course, they answer as though they did not, even as they begin to follow Mordessa.

"You are asking if I happened to leave an aggressive bipedal creature with mixed human and bovine features, of my approximate size, in the bedroom I entered when I came here?" Mr Cards raises an eyebrow slightly as they respond, some incredulity colouring their high tones, "You were with me when I was last there. There was not, to my knowledge, such a creature present when I left, and I expect that I would have noticed if there was. Nor did I take any deliberate action that would have caused such a creature to appear in that room, or indeed anywhere in your fortress."

(Mr Cards is, of course, referring to their apparent Robed size in place of their natural unaugmented size.)

"That being said," they continue smoothly, "As you are about to offer me a demonstration of your own world's information-gathering techniques, it seems fair to admit that I am not unaware of the existence of such creatures. The term 'Minotaur' is a largely mythical reference on my own world, but it is a myth with some basis in truth. Various dream-animals descended from the long-extinct Aurochs are a somewhat rare existence in Parabola, for that which exists no longer, is also that which Is-Not. Some of these have adapted to Parabola better than others, becoming predatory rather than herbivorous, and the ones whose depredations have permitted them to steal some seeming of the human form are among the most dangerous of the predatory variants. I have both seen and fought such an entity in my own Parabolan travels; as a literal beast out of nightmare, its presence would seem akin to that sort of nightmare where the hunter becomes the hunted, finding all their strength and cleverness suddenly outmatched by a far stronger monstrous being, leaving them helpless prey to be slain and devoured at the creature's leisure. In my experience, such powerful beings of the Is-Not are impossible to slay, except by first tracking them to their place of power and defeating them there in single combat. Any lesser harm than that is a mere inconvenience to an entity that is more dream than flesh... though sufficient inconvenience may at least drive a hungry predator to seek easier prey."

(They elide the fact that the Minotaur they are most familiar with is something of an ally of theirs, ever since they hatched it from an egg; it made its place of power in a tent within their war camp, from which position it can easily venture forth with the scouts of their dream-armies to prey upon the dream-scouts of opposing Parabolan armies. As such, the fight they alluded to with their Minotaur, though certainly fierce, was more akin to friendly sparring than any serious attempt by either to harm the other.)

"I do acknowledge that it does sound ridiculous by common physics to describe the situation as the Minotaur having been left there by your very own self. But shrinking and apparently the ability to carry hundreds of pounds of material are not limiting factors for a skilled administrator of conveniently leaving things where they cause almost maximal chaos."

"The fact is that a squad, actually the one cleaning the room you arrived in, was reportedly attacked by a Minotaur. No members of the squad have suffered physical harm but one of their members is quite unconscious at this point. It seems quite plausible they could be one of these beings from Is-Not."

"You described and implied earlier that beings and actors of the Is-Not interact with the physical through mirrors, right? Does the mirror need to be seen for some action to be taken by somebody who is on the other side of it?"

The unfocused visuals in the vessel of water slowly clear.

Visually a coin, in the approximate middle of the view seems to be acting as a sort of optical focus for the magical lens that the image is being viewed through. Area around the coin seems quite malformed. Bits of land seem to be affected by a morphing corruption of black and green colour. A fist-sized worm can be noticed walking past.

"Understandable that you asked, in that case," concedes Mr Cards, "But yes, mirrors are the most easily accessible gates between the Is and the Is-Not, and a large ornate silver mirror is perhaps the most convenient and memorable sort of mirror. Most attacks by Parabolan creatures target those who already asleep, especially those foolish enough to sleep before a mirror, and the harm they cause is purely mental. Rarer and more potent dream entities can also influence, distract, or terrorize wakeful watchers who perceive their forms, even from the other side of a mirror. Naturally, those entities which have possessed a living host can come and go at will, if they have suitable materials and know the way; such infiltrators are as physically dangerous as their host and as mentally dangerous as the possessing entity. But yes, sight is an important factor when interacting with mirrors. Those who cannot see a mirror are not subject to the influence of that which is behind it. I do believe I mentioned covering mirrors? A thick curtain does not make a mirror completely impassable, but it does make that mirror harder to locate from Parabola, and impossible to indirectly use. A solid and opaque covering can be used to prevent both influence and passage; it is somewhat popular to keep a mirror in a shallow locking cabinet for this reason, but even placing an unused mirror face-down is often sufficient."

(They notably omit the generally effective strategy of cracking a mirror to permit most reflection while preventing passage, as it could be rather inconvenient if they actually did this and the mirror they came through proves relevant. Nor do they describe the security tricks they employ with their own personal collection of travel mirrors, or the usefulness of tinted goggles in blocking out certain sorts of visions. These are free samples from politeness and to encourage reciprocation, not a subject-specific training lecture for paying students. If the locals want to purchase more complete information, they're free to make an offer.)

The demonstration of the information-gathering spell is interesting... using the reflective surface of water as a focus for some other image? Making an accurate image of a distant location appear thus is not quite something that Glasswork could replicate, but making an arbitrary image appear is less difficult. The small coin in the middle of the viewpoint probably isn't there by accident, and so is likely necessary to the effect... which makes the thought of accepting a large number of coins from these people somewhat less attractive. That corrupt black-and-green effect, at least, is certainly new. Admittedly, there are parts of the Neath whose precise location is somewhat uncertain, but the Treachery of Maps does not generally cause places to shift their position and nature before one's eyes. The walking wormlike creature is also interestingly different; they generally would've expected such a creature to crawl, instead keeping its midsection upright and off the ground as it waddles along... possibly a practical adaptation, if the ground is that unwholesome?

"A true image of an area near the Worldwound, I take it?" asks Mr Cards, more for confirmation than out of anything like disbelief, "That effect is rather... distinctive, and unfamiliar. How far does it spread?"

Moving the mirror to Hell should be considered. That might prove inconvenient for Cards' travel back, if it just happened so that other mirrors do not provide the same transport capability. Well, the decision of moving the mirror to Hell isn't up to her, either way.

"Right. That shall be covered post-haste and we will take care to employ these measures."

"It is true and real-time. It is too bad that the magic of scrying* only allows a small observable area around a target."

"The corruption spreads a few hundreds of miles in most directions. It gets weaker over distance, but also worsens on areas over time as they become more thoroughly corrupted, but for now the worst corrupting effects are tied down close to the center. Most of the mutated lifeforms that can be noticed originate from Abyss, the corruptions intensity being even higher there. Mortals who are judged Chaotic Evil and sent to the Abyss as judgment mutate rapidly."

*: far-seeing

Even thought the externally visible reaction has been beaten out of them, the squad leader does feel the impulse to sigh tiredly at seeing their orders. It is interesting how well contempt can travel through a telepathy-network at multiple removes from the source.

DO: Perform the below operations BLINDFOLDED and minimizing the change of seeing the mirrors reflective side

DO: Enter the room

DO: Land the mirror CAREFULLY reflective side against the floor

DO: Cover the mirror on the floor completely with a thick curtain or equivalent

DO: Utilize Mage Hand for moving the curtain

DO NOT: look at the mirror

DO NOT: break the mirror

DO NOT: try to move heavy objects by Mage Hand

after, and only after the above has been completed succesfully

DO: Mark the now-covered mirror on the floor with a LARGE SIGN stating IMPORTANT OBJECT DO NOT INTERACT

DO: Retrieve the Wizard

DO: Follow standard procedure for illusion and/or mind affecting magic afflicted casualty

The squad performs.

No external factors interfere with the execution of the squad's orders.

"A rather difficult problem," observes Mr Cards, as they peer into the revealed image, "As a matter of sheer scale, if nothing else."

They quite automatically find themselves considering how it might be resolved. It is often most straightforward and convenient to simply draw an appropriate pattern of Correspondence sigils, but the practicality of such an approach is lost at such a large scale. On the other hand, drawn sigils are only one referent to the Correspondence; the steps needed to draw any such sigil could in theory be broken down into a set of actions to be performed, likely upon a grand scale. Through the movements of armies, perhaps? No, that might be too impractical over such terrain... maybe through the flight-paths of bats? A definite possibility, but likely not without the cooperation of their fellow Masters, who would generally be unwilling to put forth such a grand effort except to acquire a new city. Even so there are other powers involved here, and the matter of what 'pen and ink' might best be used might be seen as secondary. What exactly is happening to the ground in question as the corruption spreads to it?

A well-practised motion has Mr Cards pull reach into their Robe to pull forth the Patent Scrutinizer Deluxe!, a magnifying glass which has the singular abiding virtue that everything which exists is visible through it. One of their earliest significant purchases, and still one of their favourite tools, for all that visibility of such ephemeral existences as ghost-lights, dream-fragments, and traces of past lives does not automatically convey understanding of their meanings. They bend over the scrying vessel and close one eye as they examine the edge of the edge of the corruption through the lens, automatically beginning to tweak the various jewelled knobs to better bring the image to the desired levels of focus, magnification, refinement, illumination, adumbration, embellishment, and revelation.

It doesn't take a keen observer to notice the fortune of gemstones adorning the lens; diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and pearls. There are royal crowns worth less, even without considering whatever complex vision-enhancing effect is built into the thing.

Visuals appear clarified and with greater detail under the might of the Patent Scrutinizer Deluxe!.

There seem to be particles of corruption that are spreading and intermixing with the more normal terrain materials (stone, dirt and sand), with varying concentrations. It could be interpreted to represent a tug of war between the laws of this world, and the laws of the corruption. Parts of the corruption have visible connections to other corruption and to other points not visible on the pool.

Interlaid, the tool also reveals details about the magic being used to see. There is a kind of connection that goes through the spell and seems to focus onto the coin on the other side of the vision. The visible area seems to expand from the coin outwards, losing detail over distance and then cutting out at around 10 feet of distance. A connection to the spells caster can also be noticed; it seems to be upkeeping the magic. The spells structure also seems to have some minimal change over the observation period. It's hard to be certain but some connections and structures of the magic seem to degrade or lose integrity over time.

The great problem with the Patent Scrutinizer Deluxe!, at least so far as its average user is concerned, is that it grants sight, but not insight. The design for the wondrous device came of a collaboration between Mr Mirrors and Mr Stones, and one unlikely to be repeated following Mirrors' imprisonment. The Masters involved did not deign to leave instructions on the use of their creation for those who might be interested in buying one; as a result, many who take up such a lens often find themselves selling it later, or relegating it to some dusty shelf once they find an easier-to-use tool. But skill is a matter of practice, and Mr Cards had plenty of that even before they gained that position. They no longer needed to consult their notes to determine that glimmering embellished burgundy speckles limning an object indicated a notable connection. Instead, they simply noted those connections, increased embellishment to permit additional detail regarding those links, traced those connections to their pairings amidst the rather more cluttered view obtained, and confirmed that the indications made logical sense.

So, a connection between caster and magical effect, between magical effect and coin... and yes, between caster and coin? A temporary connection, at that... but the link is sufficient to serve for the purposes of the effect, which was set to seek out just such a connection. An interesting technique, though one which would take considerable effort to replicate using their own arts. One well worth investigating closer, but it does seem obvious that much of what they're seeing is the effects of the local science of Topological Complexity, which they will have plenty of other opportunities to examine.

More relevant to the target of the spell, of course, is the spreading corruption. Closer examination of that proves... disturbing. An alternate form of law, standing in direct, visible opposition to the light of the local Judgment... and not only enduring, but thriving? A slow, creeping process, to be sure... but definitely one which continues to spread. Considering the effects of the spreading corruption as a law... hmm... it takes them a couple of puzzling minutes of investigation before they conclude that the principle in question is not especially law-like, nor can they easily describe it with the Correspondence. Frowning thoughtfully under the hood of their Robe, Mr Cards carefully puts away their Patent Scrutinizer Deluxe! Is it quite wise to try any other approaches to solving this problem, in the presence of potential threats? Well... perhaps not, but this seems important. It won't take any time at all, and it won't hurt... much.

With a sigh, they carefully decide not to consider the question any further. After all, they don't have access to any other descriptive frameworks, not that any such things could possibly be useful, and so they won't be able to come to a correct conclusion on the topic. They don't have enough information to make an accurate guess at what might be involved here, so they aren't even speculating about the possibility. Clearly, no law was responsible for this effect, nor will it be possible to describe the results such a law could not have. Since they are not foolish enough to even think that they might arrive at a correct answer to a question they haven't even asked, they couldn't at all be confident in any conclusion... especially not:

< no thing which is forbidden shall be forbidden >

No, that isn't quite correct. That conclusion isn't even a good approximation of the situation, since there aren't multiple effects responsible for what they've observed. Really, this isn't much at all like anything they have never seen before, especially not like anything they didn't see when they wandered out into the frozen wasteland to no place in particular to do nothing of any importance. At best, it doesn't rhyme with any words they haven't read nor heard spoken.

Mr Cards shivers, finding that the air around them has become noticeably colder, and there is a slight crackling as they shake their head firmly, dislodging tiny bits of ice that had started to form. Whatever the results produced, they quite often find themselves regretting it whenever they try not to understand something. At least they haven't done anything but stare silently for a few long moments of thought, and so no one should have any idea what just happened. With another practised motion, they produce a bottle of F. F. Gebrant's Tincture of Vigour and drain the bottle in one long pull.

That magnifying glass is looking interesting. The lenses look powerful, but not in a Golarion-familiar magical way.

"Find out anything interesting? Are you perhaps interested in details about the spell, or are you managing to inspect the terrain itself through the spell?"

"The scrying itself will last just a minute more."

Mr Cards' hat discreetly nibbles on their head a little, to remind them of the ongoing social interaction.

"Ahh, yes," replies Mr Cards, smoothly slipping back into a conversational mode with their hat's prompting, "I observed the interaction between the principle driving the expansion of the terrain and the light of your local Judgment. Given the nature of the effect, it seems quite able to overcome the rather permissive Laws enforced by local sunlight. I suppose that the possibility of this sort of threat may be among the reasons why my own world's Judgment is more restrictive in what is and is not permissible within their sight."

They return their gaze to the displayed image, considering whether to elaborate on this point, then decides that it seems likely to come up sooner or later. Their own world's Hell has distinct Revolutionary leanings, which does not seem to be the case with the local Devils. But which is more concerning? No, that's the wrong framing. Yes, they seek a balance between Black and White, and in general, it would suit their purposes quite well for both sides to come into conflict. It would not, however, serve their interests for the more radical Neathy factions to start experimenting with this sort of thing, leading to the development of similarly nasty spreading corruptive hazards anywhere near London. If such a thing were to happen... they might expect the other Masters to dither uselessly about the threat for weeks, until they were forced to personally intervene and deal with the problem. Given that information control and containment is currently possible... yes, better to keep that problem in mind going into things, to minimize the risk of having to deal with yet another apocalyptic event. As the image dissipates, they turn back to Mordessa.

"Thank you for showing me this," says Mr Cards, quite sincerely, "I will note that an anti-Law effect of this scope and durability is likely to attract the interest of certain Chaotic and Revolutionary groups that have formed within London. I expect that there are those among their number who would be all too eager to cooperate with the Demons of the Worldwound, considering madness and mutation a fair trade for what they conceive of as freedom. Most of those are merely mortal troublemakers, unworthy of great concern... but I do not wish to see what the minds who conceived of the Liberation of Night* come up with, if given access to the Worldwound. I expect that we share a mutual interest in this?"

*: "The Liberation of Night" simultaneously conveys the sense of "the end of all Law", "the death of all Gods", and "the extinguishing of all light".

Mordessas responses are promptly delivered.

"The other afterlife planes would put up a more direct fight with the corruption. The Material plane is a very permissible one, in a sense."

"You do guess right. Hell and Cheliax are generally opposed to spreading Chaos. Revolutionaries looking for freedom in madness and mutation sound quite dangerous."

One infraction of Chelish law mentally noted down. Of course for diplomats those are often not punished directly but sometimes they can provide leverage.

"This End of all Law you speak of. Is it some sort of concrete action, a power, or some sort of plan?"

"Yes," replies Mr Cards quite insistently, but without further elaboration. This is a matter they feel quite strongly about, and they openly display the grave degree of their concern.

"Due to, hmm..." they trail off, glancing significantly around the still-occupied room before continuing, "...certain secret information I managed to acquire, which would be utterly foolish to discuss without extensive secrecy precautions, I do not consider Liberationist* claims to be mere boasts. I have gone to very significant lengths to curtail their influence and thwart their plans, and still consider them the greatest threat I know of. Arranging appropriately secure conditions for disclosure of that information will be another item to discuss with the contract devil, when they arrive, perhaps as a separate arrangement between myself and Hell. Beyond that, I will need to carefully consider how best to arrange profitable trade between our worlds without undue risk... strict information controls, at a minimum."

*: The Revolutionary faction associated with the Liberation of Night.

(Of course, their competition for the position of 'greatest threat' is the Judgments themselves... but even after London, there ought to be at least two more cities of time before that reckoning comes due. Plenty of time to discover other countermeasures before then... or perhaps even to simply seize and repurpose the 'Great Work', and thereby come armed to some future negotiating table.)

Calculated, careful concern can also be seen on Mordessas face, as this topic comes up.

"Right. That shall be considered. It is worthwhile to be careful with such matters."

"In any case, we should move to the negotiation room and welcome our main negotiator, they should be arriving promptly."

Mordessa starts leaving towards the door, expecting Cards to follow.

"Excellent," Mr Cards says with a polite nod. They do indeed follow, without any particular shenanigans this time.

As for Mordessa's reactions, well... emotional observations are unreliable in interactions with Devils, as sincere emotion on their part is neither to be expected nor trusted. Although it is demonstrably inaccurate to say that there is no such thing as love among Devils, any sympathetic emotional demonstrations ought to be considered as more likely to be a posture or deliberate lure rather than the genuine article. This is no barrier to negotiations, of course, but it ought to be kept in mind. Although Mr Cards has no intention to engage a Devil in either friendship or romance (ever again), it remains reasonable to do business with their kind, so long as the relative alignment of interests remains clear. A matter which concerns Mr Cards and their world is not necessarily truly of concern to a foreign Devil lacking context. Perhaps they will think differently once they know more... or perhaps not, for that matter. It is at least worth remembering that the first leaders of the Devils were the ones who slew the Judgment that the Devils served before ever coming to Earth, and that the leader who built Hell was not the one who ruled it before the revolution that put Hell's current government in place. It's hard to say exactly how much weight the local concept of 'Lawfulness' will bear... but even if their counterparty were to be entirely untrustworthy, Mr Cards nonetheless remains confident in their ability to handle the matter with suitably firm contract terms.

A high clearance meeting has been ongoing for a while. Various powers of Hell hold stake on Golarion.

There are hopes humble expectations that the new quota for lower slaves to have punishably better ideas than their superiors periodically will lead to improved decisions and punishment rates over the longer term. As is usual for highest clearance meetings the participants are cloaked and their voices altered.

"What are the estimated lower and upper bounds here?"

"The worst outcome would be this Cards and their own allies from the new world allying succesfully with the Lawful Good forces against Hell and our Lords interests. The best outcome is access to a new world and enough resources to win over Golarion and many other worlds. The bounds are so far from each other that you could fit almost any previous disruptive event within those, excepting matters concernings Gods. And to be clear, it is likely that Cards holds more cards in their hand than many minor deities. They might even have the capability to instantly ascend if they so much as hear a rumour of the Starstone. Besides their powers, the current estimate, based on how they are treating their wares, is that their inventory is worth between a million and a hundred million Golarion gold."

"We really should stop this farce and bring them to Hell."

"No. We must make them slowly and carefully submit. Can we curse them over time to reduce their negotiation power? Or wish them worse? We need to consider that our action space will be significantly constrained once the negotiations have advanced enough that they demand their own form of negotiation safety guarantees. We must also take into account that they may demand a list of taken actions towards them as part of the negotiations."

"No. We should magic their possessions away from them, keep them busy, and send a separate expedition into the realm that they came from."

"We need to take into account that other Gods are also plausibly observing the situation and waiting to make their move. Should we arrange a gamble for a non-intervention zone?"

"No. We cannot risk a squish." 

"We should frame an attack by Iomedaens to capture Cards, where if the attack succeeds we have them captured and if it doesn't we get more loyalty out of them."

"No, we cannot risk them seeing through it."

"We need to start reading their thoughts."

"How many failed attempts can we risk?"

"Stop being useless. What paths of action can we take. Present options we can activate now or if the situation escalates. Optimize for expected value, not bad or median outcomes."

"Let's send in the strongest negotiator we can spare for the material. Update the emergency wish instructions and the Hell hit squad. Order Cheliax to up their hit squad commitment as well. Make them seriously consider hiring Razmir or purchasing expensive scrolls from him, they should trade anyway to prepare more goods for the negotiations."

"Also ensure that Cheliax is committing appropriately for both the upside and downside consequences. While taking care about secrecy."

"Commit to that. The meeting is over."

In the room, a contract devil can be noticed. It's appearance reads as clearly humanoid but with rust-colored skin and large horns curving from their back, pointing upward and visible above their shoulders. The horns and skin also protrude with seemingly attached pieces of paper.

The room's table and chairs look like before, but a long scroll of seemingly paper has been brought over.

The devil bows slightly, and speaks: "My respectful greetings, Mr Cards. I am Jacques, here to represent all interests of His highness, the one who Conquers, the First God-Fiend, Lord of Darkness, Prince of Law, and the Supreme Master of the Nine Hells, Asmodeus."

"I have received a report on the beforehand discussed, and the already assented agreements. I would propose we start by discussing what, if any, vows of secrecy bind the content of these negotiations, and discuss security guarantees, before moving to trade goods, formal allianceships or any complementaries. Do you have counterproposed orderings?"

Ah, a competent counterparty. Perhaps the sentiment is an unfairness; Mordessa is a soldier of Hell, not a diplomat or negotiator, but this definitely feels like more familiar ground. It is interesting to note which of Asmodeus' titles Jacques sees fit to emphasize (and is the French-style name a coincidence, or a translation artifact?). Conquest, law, and mastery over Hell are understandable... but the various connotations of 'fiend' are rather less promising, and a title related to darkness is outright disturbing, under the circumstances; almost enough in and of itself to get them to reconsider the details of what they are and are not willing to share. Still, they've negotiated with worse. Mr Cards returns the bow, before sitting to get down to business.

"Well met, Jacques. Given the sensitivity of some of the potential discussion topics," begins Mr Cards, "It seems prudent to first ensure that this meeting is as secure as possible against any potential eavesdroppers, with no observers permitted who will not be bound by the terms of the secrecy agreement that will be negotiated. There are chambers within the Bazaar which I believe are suitable for this purpose, but we are not in London, and I am unfamiliar with those local techniques used to ensure security. Do you currently believe this room to already be as secure as is it is reasonably possible to arrange against every method of espionage you consider worth guarding against? If not, are there additional precautions which could be taken within the next hour without unreasonable expense, given the potentially large damaging impact any informational leaks may have upon both parties?"

Jacques responds: "That is most prudent. Now that we are all here, I shall apply Mage's Private Sanctum to this room, which makes outside observance through sound, vision or Divination* magic not possible. It might seem a bit unexpected to an outsider but this is pretty close to the local optimal on meeting privacy. There does also exist magic to make areas untravelable with teleporting**, but it would usually be noticable if somebody arrived through those means. And agreed with the rule regarding observers. We will have two people present, one representing His Lordship and one representing Cheliax. For now Mordessa will be acting as that liaison."

At this point Mordessa closes the door and takes a seat.

"This application of magic will take approximately 10 minutes. I would usually apply it beforehand but I just arrived on the compound, and also interpreted from the briefing you might be interested in seeing the spell itself. I will get to it so we can advance the discussion."

Jacques begins gesturing around the room and murmuring barely audibly. A cube of dark fog appears to cover the rooms walls and doorway bit by bit.

*translates as far-seeing with both time and space related associations

**instantenous far-travel

"I shall assume that you are correct about the appropriate level of local precautions needed," replies Mr Cards dryly, "Although I certainly won't turn down an opportunity to observe those methods."

Indeed, out comes the Patent Scrutinizer Deluxe! once again, and a few quick adjustments of its bejewelled knobs begins to show the connections between the Devil and the nascent fog effect. The strange shapes involved would probably provide them with somewhat more insight if they had more background knowledge regarding Topological Complexity, but the way the fog-like effect spreads in a strangely cubic fashion and begins to shroud its contents from outside view is at least interesting to watch, especially once the effect spreads enough for them to examine it from the inside without being uncommonly disrespectful of the personal space of a pair of Devils.

"If I intended to render a meeting properly secure outside of an appropriately-defended place of power, there are defences of my own that I might put in place," they suggest, "London is easily the most spied-upon city in my world, and even a brief discussion of the various espionage tricks I might be preventing would doubtless be informative. Still, I would expect many of those precautions to overlap with your existing techniques, with 'hold the meeting in an especially secure room within a conventionally secured fortress' generally at least discouraging the simpler attempts. Many of the more exotic techniques are intended to counter specific local threats which I do not anticipate encountering on a different world... still, since I have time to look in any event, perhaps something of note shall come to my attention."

Jacques seems to be focusing their ability to speak on their spellcasting, but Mordessa responds:

"That seems sensible. Our usual solutions are so general that for meeting rooms we rarely apply specific solutions, it's just one of the few general good ones. If there is a need for privacy when moving around the world more specific magic is necessary."

The spell slowly spreads, from Jacques' motioning hand to the corners and sides of the magical cube. Scrutinizing reveals how the spell sets up multiple kinds of blocks. Several overlapping barriers, different in color and texture start to cover the magical cube. They seem to be blocking vision and sound quite directly and effectively. There is also a harder-to-interpret layer, which seems to be working in an extra dimension, plausibly to block observation of the area through magic. As the cube finalizes Jacques also stops motioning and murmuring, and speaks:

"If you think committing something extra seems useful, or you have tips for privacy now would be the time."

"Otherwise we could move to the secrecy agreement. Did you have specifications for what sort of contract agreements or general shapes you commit to agreeing to, or if some are ruled out? Do you have specifications for the written down language, contract magic or lack thereof, or other details?"

Mr Cards finishes their inspection of the room and the magic, and takes a seat at the table.

"An interesting technique," they say, in a quite complimentary fashion, "Not easily peered through or pried into, and I could hear how the echoes changed as it spread. It should be quite satisfactory, especially if it also blocks more exotic means of information gathering. If I had any concerns over the security of the neighbouring rooms, I might have applied a series of sigils to the walls, floor, and ceiling... but your magic seems to have performed better than anything I could quickly improvise. As for more specific recommendations I might have..."

"London is by far the most spied-upon city on my world, and anyone of any importance learns something of how to thwart their arts. From those things worth checking which might be able to subtly observe a meeting past these defences..." here they begin to gesture at various features of the room to suggest places they inspected, "I see there are no mirrors in the room. It is only occasionally possible for the most sophisticated of agents to exploit subtler reflections, but since I also note that there has not been an error like polishing the floor to a mirrored finish, that ought to suffice, especially in combination with a technique to prevent observation. It would usually be worth checking for small spying animals that might report on a meeting's contents, though your own technique limits the effectiveness of such methods, and I presume the local soldiers are at least competent enough to prevent ordinary animals from entering a high-security area during a time of heightened alert? It would require somewhat more elaborate detection methods to notice subtler threats such as small intelligent animals smuggling themselves inside in a suitably disguised container, or some similarly cunning listening device using mechanical methods to record any conversation within earshot. I have neither seen nor heard evidence of such here, but conclusively ruling those methods out is rather time-consuming... though if you had a rat problem bad enough to warrant such methods, I expect you would have learned appropriate techniques to deal with it, and I have yet to see any cats here. Some of the same avenues of attack would also be available to a suitably transformed agent, perhaps one able to send their ear ahead to sneak through the smallest of gaps and listen in. Being in a fortress does make this somewhat more difficult, provided your guards are reliably able to notice a camouflaged infiltrator climbing your walls to huddle near a ventilation slit. There are, of course, many other techniques relevant to espionage, but none that would work well remotely past such protections. Provided that we are not disturbed by intruders, even those thought to be loyal to your side, we ought to be able to speak freely."

Given the free chance to examine the "Mage's Private Sanctum" effect, Mr Cards does not have any problem revealing intelligence-gathering techniques used by Silverers, more common spies, the LBs, the Khaganians, and the Starved Men; here in this world, they seem unlikely to be of special use to the locals, and they'd likely learn many of them quickly enough, given any access to London.

"As for the specific terms of secrecy, I can think of three separate areas in which secrecy is desirable," continues Mr Cards, in a serious but businesslike way, "Firstly, I want limitations on the flow of information from your world to mine, to limit the chances that it falls into the hands of my enemies. Secondly, you want limitations on who I may reveal the possibility of diamond trade with, to prevent your enemies from gaining access to critical resources. Thirdly, I have access to particularly secret information regarding the Liberation of Night, which I want to be extremely certain do not become known to any who would further that cause. The first two areas of secrecy seem like subjects that we might reasonably come to some arrangement on, likely as the prelude to a more formal trade arrangement. I expect that the third area would be better handled by a more specific contract that details under what exact circumstances that information may be shared and used."

At this, they focus on Jacques, "Are you empowered to make such an agreement on behalf of your Lord and His Hells, or is this meeting merely an opportunity to convey the broad outline of such an agreement Hellward, to await a formal response?"

Mordessa attentively takes in the input about London-side secuirty, and responds:

"It is not unheard of for spies to utilize animals or summoned creatures through various means, and as such the guards have been drilled to be on guard against such intruders. Spying animals could often be rats or cats, but various birds and small reptilians are not unheard of either. Most means known to us for transforming and plausibly sending ones ear ahead of themself are magical and thus would be detected, but we are not yet certain if your or your adversaries means for such transformations would be completely detected."

As the contract specifics come out, Jacques promptly responds:

"The first two specific terms seem agreeable to us as well."

"I do happen to be practiced at understanding the portfolio of my Lords' interests, and can negotiate the agreement, but before signing in all of Hell's name will need to consult magically."

"Do you have a comprehensive idea for what circumstances those would be, for the third contract? We can agree to not use this initial information to figure out things about the pattern behind it, if needed."

"Spying animals are certainly abundant in London, with rats certainly being the most troublesome of those," agrees Mr Cards, "But if you're already familiar with that sort of threat, there's no need to linger on the topic. Given that you've described the sorts of transformations you are aware of as 'magical', it seems likely that you are unfamiliar with the uses of amber. I could explain these uses in reasonable detail, perhaps in exchange for similar information regarding the uses of diamonds?"

Jacques' suggestion as to an agreement not to use the information regarding the circumstances of their request to reason about the patterns behind it is an interesting proposal. It's not the sort of thing that the Devils they are familiar with would ordinarily agree to, though it seems equally clear that it's something they could meaningfully commit to doing. It's an clever negotiating gambit, and one that they find raises their opinion of Jacques.

"I do have such an idea," they confirm, "And yes, a well-worded agreement regarding and information leaked as part of the negotiating process could be useful in streamlining that process. Is there a standard wording you use for this purpose?"

Something resemebling curiosity is piqued; "Information regarding amber does interest us, and we would like an informational exchange. Both diamonds of various sizes and diamond dust are utilized as magic spell components. Diamond dust works to fuel various utility effects such as Impart Mind to make magical items intelligent, Nondetection to make persons undetectable, Permanency to make magical effects permanent and Restoration to remove curses and diseases and health. With a large amount of diamond dust one can also call forth a God's power to enact an intervention on the material plane. Diamonds of various sizes fuel resurrection magic: the ability to bring the dead back to life. But the larger diamonds provide one with the ability to cast Wish, a dangerous all purpose spell that can try to turn arbitrary wordings into magical effects, but under proper conduct and training can be narrowly safely utilized to do: more versatile than normal magic casting, undo various permanent spells, permanently improve ones abilities, cure effectively any ailment, travel and transport with extreme efficiency."

"We do quite enjoy standard forms."

Jacques takes a standard-seeming note of paper from their scrolls and starts writing on it on the table as they speak:

"For this case one such would be: '

The agents signatory to this forecommitment preceding negotiation and discussion commit to not utilize the new information received, regarding the agreed upon topic [Liberation of Night, secrecy agreements about Liberation of Night], from the time after the forecommitment to the time of signing a future secrecy commitment, at which point the future commitment can take precedence, depending on its exact terms, in circumstances outside of this negotiation.

The agents commit to making this additional secrecy agreement stay secret outside the three signatories, and in the case that its existence leaks it will be referred to as "Standard secrecy forecommitment". 

The agents can be freed from this secrecy commitment by a consensus decision of the signatories.'"

They look at Cards and the agreement for a second, and then state:

"Oh. For reading the agreement we can provide a Comprehend Languages, if you do not mind an extra magic effect on your person. We would offer to write a copy in your language but the ability to speak any language we are using does not actually provide the ability to write arbitrary languages. Of course if you do not mind being unable to read the contract terms, we could just sign it." The last part delivered with a jesting smile and a wink.

Mr Cards nods consideringly at the brief description of the uses of diamonds. So, diamond is a consumable material at the heart of magical infrastructure, then; the catalyst used to make magic permanent. Its uses include such valuable feats as bringing back the dead (absent the Neath's convenient properties), or even to perform arbitrary and permanent changes to reality! Yes, that would neatly explain its value, They reciprocate with a description of Amber, falling into a lecturing tone more or less automatically.

"Amber, primarily useful in the Shapeling Arts, can be used to induce changes. The Shapeling Arts are indeed an art, and not a science; the same procedure, carried out by the same artist in the same place with the same materials a dozen times will produce a dozen different results, much as each of the offspring produced by a given pairing will be somewhat different, even from birth. The art is easiest to use upon that which is or was alive, but it can be used otherwise, with significantly greater resource expenditure. Much like with diamond, it is also a catalyst to make the changes induced by this art permanent, though it also can simply enhance the power and scope of the art."

Here they produce a several bone curiosities, leaving them on the table; an arm bone tied into a figure-eight knot, a leg bone twisted helically through 860 degrees of rotation, a skull with a face on both front and back, a rib cage fashioned with hinges and wires into something rather like a breastplate, with each external surface forming a slightly serrated and dangerously sharp surface.

"It is safest to use the Shapeling Arts upon dead flesh and bone, as in a shaping cauldron, and this is one of the most sensible ways to learn the art. Fill a cauldron with a mix of amber, ground meat, bone meal, and vital fluids; heat slowly over the course of many hours, stirring constantly with long bones, until the amber has fully melted; then enforce a change upon the contents of the cauldron, drawing forth altered flesh and bone... or more potent and useful varieties of amber. That more potent amber might be used when crafting with bone, to transform common skeletons into useful, valuable, or decorative forms."

Here they take out four roughly eye-sized irregular chunks of amber, in a soft and slightly sticky yellow, a dark and rather warm red, a glowing and slightly trembling blue, and a bright and visibly pulsing red.

"The Shapeling Arts can used upon amber more directly, imbuing it with some degree of memory and life force. The least potent of common yellow amber might easily be made to sip ever so lightly upon the life of each hand that touches it, slowly recording the faintest shadow of everything it has experienced, a building charge which makes it more suitable to higher refinements. In the Neath, it is far more difficult to find untouched raw Amber than to find that which has been so treated! Amber that has been melted and reformed in a shaping cauldron becomes red and warm to the touch; this concentrated potency makes it far more responsive of an ingredient, and the most abundantly suitable medium for more complex work. Some portion of the amber which has been repeatedly melted and concentrated through that same process may begin to beat like a heart, and can be used to bring certain unliving constructions to a semblance of life. With a greater expenditure of one's personal life force, amber might instead be refined to a trembling blue, becoming akin to the journal of its creator, to one able to read what is encoded within. True experts might occasionally employ similar techniques to cause amber to bear even more useful lessons, imbuing the holder with a shadow of the creator's skills. Amber of the greatest potency might be infused with exotic light, thereby gaining some of the properties of that sort of light... but such samples are extremely rare and quite difficult to acquire."

Here Mr Cards grimaces and stretches the fingers of their left hand, until their long fingernails more closely resemble predatory talons, quite suitable for gripping or slashing.

"It is easiest to use the Shapeling Arts to change one's self, but perilous to the untrained. The slightest of mishaps can be agonizingly painful, and any distraction caused by that pain may lead to far worse failures. It is not impossible that a mistake may leave one permanently marred by an irrevocable error. Still, one might use such techniques to shift one's own anatomy to better withstand a deadly attack, to protect oneself from various unpleasant environmental conditions, or perhaps even to sneak though a paper-thin gap. At still greater risk, one might use the art to change the way they think, to better focus upon certain difficult problems. This can be astonishingly effective, especially in tasks requiring creativity, focus, or a point of view alien to one's own natural inclinations. Still, such changes are often negative sum on the whole; leaving a less generally capable mind which is more optimized for the specific task at hand. As such, I find it terribly unwise to make such changes except in a temporary and easily reversible fashion, lest one lose capabilities one might prefer to have kept... though there are those who disagree with me."

With their other hand, Mr Cards pulls out a strange, six-chambered heart, displaying it to the devils in an outstretched hand. It yet beats in their grip, as though still alive.

"In much the same way, the art can also be used to change another. The risk here is greater still than with personal changes, as one never has quite as much information about the health and nature of another as one does of one's own self. Given a cooperative student with some training in the subject, a master might gradually ease a willing student through any of the same changes they can make to themselves. Alternatively, stranger transformations might occasionally be performed... given sufficient resources and the enthusiastic cooperation of a subject who also has some familiarity with the art. Absent that, this is more likely to amount to paying a vast sum to torture and cripple ones subject."

So saying, they tuck the heart away and revert the earlier change to their hand, with a slight grimace being the only sign of discomfort.

"At a larger scale, the art passes beyond the understanding of all but its most dedicated practitioners. The Rubbery Men, in their deep caverns, use it to create and maintain vast and incomprehensible infrastructure, which seems to sustain their masters and produce more of their kind. The Starved Men, in their hanging stalactite fortresses, make fearsome living weapons; when they brought that hoarded strength to bear upon my city in a recent invasion, buildings and whole city blocks were reshaped much as flesh can be, with shocking speed and deadly results. In the aftermath of the failure of that invasion, certain diplomatic concessions were made; I personally was awarded a throne of amber, shaped with properties which usefully focus the mind, aid in averting madness, and grant increased abilities with the Shapeling Arts."

Their lecture finished, they consider Jacques' terms, and allow themselves a brief chuckle at the devil's jest.

"Those are sensible sounding terms... though it would of course be incredibly foolish to sign any document which I am unable to read! I have no objections to personally receiving a Comprehend Languages effect... but given that balance of abilities, I would instead suggest that I write the contract myself, in plain English, which language you both ought to be able to read, if not write. Indeed, that is my general policy in such negotiations; writing the contract myself, using my own paper and ink, makes several categories of trickery quite impossible."

The implications of this so-called Shapeling Art is certainly a significant question. Since it clearly sounds like thinking can be changed, could mental enhancements be replicated, surpassed, or even augmented with new types of enhancing? Could its mental downsides be surpassed by Golarion means? Can its effects be replicated with transmutation?

As plausibly expected, no sort of shock is noticed on the Devils' faces when Cards presents their extended fingernails. The heart does get a curious, focused look of observation.

"It would be interesting to research if our local procedures of restoring mental health after impairments would interact positively with the mentioned loss of capability associated with amber-induced mental modifications."

"The requirement for a subject of transformation to themselves be a student to this art does certainly restrict scaling of its use. Here on Golarion I have no doubt that if this art became public knowledge various cults would sprung to go for the most significant transformations that it could achieve, with no heed for warnings. On capable and well-aimed hands it could certainly prove to be an interesting tool."

"An attacker on your city having their base in stalactites does certainly paint a new kind of picture for a conflict. Receiving a throne is certainly a type of postwar reward. Did or does that throne represent something on top of being a powerful tool?"

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 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.)