Alexeara Cansellarion is in his command tent, reviewing troop deployments by candlelight, when his work is interrupted by the sudden appearance of 1d4 psychopomps.

“You are Ser Alexeara Cansellarion, Lord Marshal of the Glorious Reclamation?” asks one of them.

“Yes,” he says automatically.

“There is a lawsuit pending against you inter alia in the Court of Pharasma’s Spire. The contents of the suit have been placed under seal and your oath is required not to discuss or act upon them or any matters arising therefrom.”

This is not a thing that normally happens. He’s vaguely aware that Pharasma has a court system, though not that it does anything other than sort dead souls, though it’s hardly absurd that it also handles other disagreements between the Outer Planes. The absurd part is that he, a living mortal, is being sued, presumably by Hell. He would have thought that wasn’t allowed.

“Supposing I say no?” he asks the monitor. It’s an oath he’s prepared to give if necessary, of course, but as a rule he does not give his oath without making sure it actually is necessary.

“The trial will proceed in your absence; the Court does not expect your presence to have a significant effect on the outcome. The verdict, however, may constrain your future actions; your presence is therefore permitted, at Heaven’s request, in order to save them the cost of communicating new instructions to you.

That’ll do it. “You have my oath that I will not discuss or act upon the contents of this lawsuit nor any matters arising therefrom, except as the judgement of the court may require of me,” he says. It would be silly to swear not to act upon any matters arising from the lawsuit when one thing that could easily arise from the lawsuit is an injuction on his actions. “I assume the plaintiff is Hell?”

“Correct. Heaven, Iomedae individually, and the Glorious Reclamation are named as defendants. The trial will begin shortly, if you would accompany me.” The psychopomp extends a skeletal limb for the Plane Shift.

“I’m in the middle of fighting a war,” he protests.

“That will depend on the judgement of the Court. Regardless, you’ll be back before anyone notices you’re gone.” Pharasma can stop time for as long as She wants. Hell will be paying for it if they lose, though.

He takes the psychopomp’s bony hand.

Plane Shift.

Alexeara Cansellarion is in his command tent, reviewing troop deployments by candlelight, when his work is interrupted by the sudden appearance of 1d4 psychopomps.

“You are Ser Alexeara Cansellarion, Lord Marshal of the Glorious Reclamation?” asks one of them.

“Yes,” he says automatically.

“There is a lawsuit pending against you inter alia in the Court of Pharasma’s Spire. The contents of the suit have been placed under seal and your oath is required not to discuss or act upon them or any matters arising therefrom.”

This is not a thing that normally happens. He’s vaguely aware that Pharasma has a court system, though not that it does anything other than sort dead souls, though it’s hardly absurd that it also handles other disagreements between the Outer Planes. The absurd part is that he, a living mortal, is being sued, presumably by Hell. He would have thought that wasn’t allowed.

“Supposing I say no?” he asks the monitor. It’s an oath he’s prepared to give if necessary, of course, but as a rule he does not give his oath without making sure it actually is necessary.

“The trial will proceed in your absence; the Court does not expect your presence to have a significant effect on the outcome. The verdict, however, may constrain your future actions; your presence is therefore permitted, at Heaven’s request, in order to save them the cost of communicating new instructions to you.

That’ll do it. “You have my oath that I will not discuss or act upon the contents of this lawsuit nor any matters arising therefrom, except as the judgement of the court may require of me,” he says. It would be silly to swear not to act upon any matters arising from the lawsuit when one thing that could easily arise from the lawsuit is an injuction on his actions. “I assume the plaintiff is Hell?”

“Correct. Heaven, Iomedae individually, and the Glorious Reclamation are named as defendants. The trial will begin shortly, if you would accompany me.” The psychopomp extends a skeletal limb for the Plane Shift.

“I’m in the middle of fighting a war,” he protests.

“That will depend on the judgement of the Court. Regardless, you’ll be back before anyone notices you’re gone.” Pharasma can stop time for as long as She wants. Hell will be paying for it if they lose, though.

He takes the psychopomp’s bony hand.

Plane Shift.

Alexeara Cansellarion is in his command tent, reviewing troop deployments by candlelight, when his work is interrupted by the sudden appearance of 1d4 psychopomps.

“You are Ser Alexeara Cansellarion, Lord Marshal of the Glorious Reclamation?” asks one of them.

“Yes,” he says automatically.

“There is a lawsuit pending against you inter alia in the Court of Pharasma’s Spire. The contents of the suit have been placed under seal and your oath is required not to discuss or act upon them or any matters arising therefrom.”

This is not a thing that normally happens. He’s vaguely aware that Pharasma has a court system, though not that it does anything other than sort dead souls, though it’s hardly absurd that it also handles other disagreements between the Outer Planes. The absurd part is that he, a living mortal, is being sued, presumably by Hell. He would have thought that wasn’t allowed.

“Supposing I say no?” he asks the monitor. It’s an oath he’s prepared to give if necessary, of course, but as a rule he does not give his oath without making sure it actually is necessary.

“The trial will proceed in your absence; the Court does not expect your presence to have a significant effect on the outcome. The verdict, however, may constrain your future actions; your presence is therefore permitted, at Heaven’s request, in order to save them the cost of communicating new instructions to you.”

That’ll do it. “You have my oath that I will not discuss or act upon the contents of this lawsuit nor any matters arising therefrom, except as the judgement of the court may require of me,” he says. It would be silly to swear not to act upon any matters arising from the lawsuit when one thing that could easily arise from the lawsuit is an injuction on his actions. “I assume the plaintiff is Hell?”

“Correct. Heaven, Iomedae individually, and the Glorious Reclamation are named as defendants. The trial will begin shortly, if you would accompany me.” The psychopomp extends a skeletal limb for the Plane Shift.

“I’m in the middle of fighting a war,” he protests.

“That will depend on the judgement of the Court. Regardless, you’ll be back before anyone notices you’re gone.” Pharasma can stop time for as long as She wants. Hell will be paying for it if they lose, though.

He takes the psychopomp’s bony hand.

Plane Shift.