(She does. She does know that. Sigh.)

"Veron Chandler. Uh. I. ... Try to do good when I can???"

He has no idea how to explain himself. This is usually Deekin's job, and Deekin is absent. Without Deekin, he'll go with shrugging helplessly.

Hulrun pinches the bridge of his nose very gently. (He's wearing gauntlets. You can't be too forceful about your demonstrative gestures, with gauntlets.)

"An alignment aura is a factor of three possible variables," he recites. "One is species; undead, aligned outsiders and dragons have exaggerated auras, due to their status as beings of an alignment rather than possessing that alignment. The second is divine power; those favored in certain ways by the gods hold a splinter of that god's divinity within themselves, which overpowers their own aura entirely. Finally, for someone in possession of neither of these characteristics, general puissance can force a much less firm and reliable reading. For someone who tries to do good when he can to have a stronger aligned aura than a mature silver dragon empowered in her own right by the Inheritor... is somewhat implausible."

"... I've gotten a lot of chances to do good lately???" he says, a little helplessly.

"Could you, perhaps, give an example."

"Uh. Okay. .... So, you know Mephistopheles?"

"Lord of the Eighth Circle of Hell, archdevil second in power only to Asmodeus himself. That Mephistopheles??"

"Yeah! Him. He had a plan to," he waves his hand vaguely, "conquer my home plane to make it the tenth circle of Hell or whatever. So. I didn't let him."

If Hulrun had a more expressive face, it would be communicating some very complicated emotions. As it is, he mostly just looks the same amount of suspicious and grumpy that he already was.

Terendelev's face is perfectly expressive, but nonetheless, it cannot do this situation justice. This calls for a facepalm.

"Uh. There was also a guy stuck in the evil sword? Enserric. I helped get him out? He's in a golem now."

"Thank you, your first example was very illuminating."

Stiff nod.

(Theories that actually make sense of the situation are in short supply right now. "This man is telling the truth" doesn't even, really, do that.)

It really doesn't!!!

"... The Greater Restoration didn't entirely fix you. Did it," observes Terendelev, because even though this situation is entirely inexplicable, she's still capable of making observations about people. And this man does not quite look entirely well.

"No, but it really helped! Thanks. Uh - diamond dust was it..?" He moves to reach to where his bag of holding is, and it's definitely not there. Neither is his portable hole. Damnation. "I will pay you back when I have money again. Uh." He should probably not start summoning shadows right now, while these two people are still very freaked out and not used to him yet. ".... Is there any miscellaneous adventuring you might need doing."

"We'll. Let you know if something comes up. Don't worry about it for now."

The number of miscellaneous adventuring tasks he is inclined to trust this man with is few to none.

Yes, that too, but they will not be saying that out loud, thank you Prelate. Anyway, Terendelev suspects that this person will somehow find some sort of problem to solve anyway, without their involvement.

"We're in the middle of a festival. Why don't you, um. Just go and enjoy the sights for now?"

Please go away and stop being their problem, this was supposed to be a nice party.

"Yeah. Sure. .... do you have any recommendations for where I could find shoes."

"Joran Vhane is probably still working, I've seen the man voluntarily leave his forge about half a dozen times since we've met. Try him."

He gives an address in the merchants' quarter, which is a bit out of the way of the festivities.

"Great. Thank you. Sorry about the fuss."

He will in fact go away and stop being their problem.

The mature silver dragon who has been empowered in her own right by the Inheritor is just going to take a moment to stand there, next to Prelate Hulrun, quietly going what the fuck.

".... so, are you... having someone follow him, or...?"

Because obviously Hulrun is going to do something, she'd just like to be somewhat aware of what. ... He's not going to tell her here, is he. What a silly thing for her to ask, of course he's not. Sigh.

Eyebrow.

(Preceptor Archons are not cheap, by the standards of Heavenly labor, but they make nearly unparalleled spies. He will probably need to do something terrifically annoying to appease them. Once, a trumpet archon demanded as payment that he attend one of Count Arendae's parties and not raise his voice for the duration.)

(He decided he did not need a trumpet archon on that occasion.)

Yeah. Yeah, she's not even sure why she asked.

"Right. Of course. Try to enjoy the festivities, Prelate."

Because she needs to go dig up perhaps a dozen scrolls of various things for breaking enchantments and buffing spell resistance and whatnot. And then still, somehow, attempt to actually have fun at a party.

"No."

This is the only order Terendelev makes of him that he is consistently willing to reject.