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Xander is a bit on edge after all of the nearly-getting-caught-by-the-authorities-in-the-desert. He sits on the ground in the park where they find themselves while Unafe communes with her ancestors. He takes out the scroll and decides to use it to contact Isilme. She was the one most equipped to handle this situation. The one most likely to be able to offer him valuable information.
He reads from the magical paper for ten minutes, focusing his mind on the task of sending a mental message across the miles. Eventually, the message comes forth:
'Withdrew to Westcrown after chase in the desert. Able to return tomorrow morning. Bring Unafe? Have you located the Adepts' lair? Please advise.'
When he is finished, he stands. "You're right, we must continue. I will search for a place to purchase magic. Would you like to come with me, or would you prefer we go to the inn first so you can rest?"
Either before or after going with Unafe to the inn, Xander will give the city a brief search for any wizard willing to do work. He will first look for scroll shops, then universities. He is vocal about his specific desire for the availability of either teleport or scrying. The downside to his search is that he only has spells or a few other valuables in trade to offer in return.
The time is noon sharp. Isilme has just woken up from her sleep at the inn, and is getting ready to follow up on her first lead: find Maroq, likely at the copper stall that she runs in the Grand Souk, according to her divinations.
At this time she receives a sending from Xander:
'Withdrew to Westcrown after chase in the desert. Able to return tomorrow morning. Bring Unafe? Have you located the Adepts' lair? Please advise.'
So far this morning, Xander, Valais, and Unafe teleported to Westcrown close to sunrise, after a failed attempt to rest and recover Unafe and Valais' magical resources. Afterwards, Xander attempted to find an inn, but was kicked out due to his race. So, Xander disguised himself as a normal human. As a result, Xander was no longer the target of any wary stares or whispers - but his companion, Unafe, who was constantly surrounded by a roaring shroud of noisy saurian spirits - is given an incredibly wide berth by the Chelish residents. They openly stare, whisper, and point as she passes.
They spend the early morning walking through the Parego Spera, until they find a lovely park for Unafe to channel her sacred ancestors at close to noon. While she focuses on that, Xander uses his scroll of sending that he originally took from Nurah, back when they discovered she was a spy. He sends to Isilme.
Once he receives a response from Isilme, Xander wanders around the nearby Rego Pena of the Parego Spera during the early afternoon. He finds a wide array of minor magical items for sale, though he does notice that all of the magical vendors here appear to be wizards. This of course makes it easy for him to find any wizardly scroll of caster level 3 or below.
In addition, he finds the following scrolls available for sale:
- Golem Manual (stone) (32000 gp)
- Scroll of Blindness/Deafness (300 gp)
- Scroll of Disguise Self (125 gp)
- Scroll of Earthquake (5000 gp)
- Scroll of Greater Spell Immunity (5000 gp)
- Scroll of Magic Weapon (100 gp)
- Scroll of Obscuring Mist (100 gp)
- Scroll of Read Magic (100 gp 5 sp)
- Scroll of Shocking Image (1000 gp)
- Scroll of Snare (775 gp)
- Scroll of Stoneskin (2000 gp)
Xander finds from asking the locals that there is only one major arcane college in Westcrown - and it is dedicated to the art of summoning devils. Instructions are provided to find this college if he wishes. There are also rumors of many wizards that have secret laboratories throughout the city - the locals tend to blame them for strangeness going on (such as the horrific shadow beasts that roam the streets at night in Westcrown).
Xander finds that the various wealthy shopkeeps also do not like Unafe very much - they find her ghosts terrifying, and feel suspicious of her presence and intentions. They feel that she is scaring away actual customers, since all Xander and Unafe appear to be doing is window-shopping. Several shop-keepers simply kick the two of them out with a curt "We don't have what you're looking for here, try someplace else." He notices that at the shops where they are allowed to linger and browse, all of the prices being quoted are higher than what he was used to in Nerosyan.
Ehren crafts a new sylvan hideaway in the muddy riverbank near the sewer exit. Outside, the sun is now going down. He and Isilme hunker down together inside their safe hideout.
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The underfolk is dismayed when the Legionnaires arrive to transfer him, wondering if perhaps this is retribution for not speaking up earlier. Their refusal to explain where they are taking him does not inspire much confidence, either. Nonetheless, he does not resist, hoping that he is not to about to be carted off to a more miserable prison. But as it turns out, his new accommodations end up being just the opposite. He inspects the pretty mosaic design with interest, wondering if perhaps things are starting to look up.
Lann enjoys his bastila, now able to worry about his friends in luxury.
Once inside the hideaway, Isilme quickly sits down and begins the lengthy process of drawing Cygnus's divine power to restore her magic. "It certainly does feel that way," she says in response. Here they were setting up a hideaway for the second time, but now missing almost the entire group. Everyone was arrested or apparently in Westcrown. In many ways she wasn't sure how it could get worse, though she knew from the day's events that the universe did not similarly suffer from such a lack of imagination.
She idly watches as Ehren continues his preparations for the scrying as she rests, curious what will come of sending to Aravashnial and subsequently scrying on him. Perhaps it would give them enough information to reach him via teleportation. As she finishes she feels the energy surge into her body, restoring her as if she had slept again. Quickly she begins casting her sending to Aravashnial.
Once she receives the reply, she gives Ehren the signal to complete the ritual.
When Unafe opens her eyes and adjusts to the sights and sounds of the park around her, she explains, "We're in the Rego Pena now, which is a large shopping district. If we don't find a teleport scroll here, we might want to try the Rego Sacreo too. It's a few blocks northeast of here, and is the religious centre of the city. There's a temple to Iomedae there. I don't know how involved they are in the crusades--you probably know more of Iomedaens than I do--but perhaps there's someone there who would aid us.
"Otherwise, I have a suggestion for an inn to stay at. They call it a 'Bed and Breakfast'. They have some delicious-sounding food here as well. The only other thing of note is that there are wanted posters in the harbor for some gnomes who apparently attacked Azir last month. There may not be any for you or me yet, but it wouldn't be out of the question. You're probably best off not using your name, or your hobgoblin form."
Unafe joins Xander for the beginning of the hunt for the scrolls...but eventually decides she may be doing more harm than good. She glares back at the people staring at her, and chuckles when an ethereal HONK from one of her saurian spirits spooks a sour, scowling shop owner. After a few minutes of it, she says, "We're only a few blocks from Veronica's Bed and Breakfast. Honestly, I might do you the biggest favor by going and trying to catch
up on my sleep. Anything we should discuss before I do? I have 1300 GP I can contribute toward purchasing something, and..."
She stops, shakes her head, and frowns.
"...and I hate this! But if a scroll could save our allies' life, well, the other thing I have is some of my people's mithral." Reaching into her haversack, she pulls out ten pounds of mithral bars. "I was told that in Drezen these could be sold for 500 gold a pound. To be clear, I had no intention of selling these for profit; they should be used to resanctify the Taranau Valley, when we eventually get back there, and to craft arms and armor to better protect those who devote their lives to somehow defeating the demon horde.
"Can I count on you to save this back only as a last resort? If so, take it, and...and if it can buy something that might save our allies' lives, it's worth it."
Unafe holds it out...and looks like it's only through an act of will that she doesn't immediately pull it back.
"Please make sure Daisy and Lann are safe."
On the ride to the new facility, she stares at where windows would be or the floor, or just screws her eyes shut as her mind dances through various possibilities of what could have happened, precisely. She looks about at the castle, and wonders whether she had been escorted to a prison, an embassy, or a home. As she reaches the cell, she still isn't sure of which. She looks up to the mosaic on the ceiling, idly wondering if it was a circle against alignments, perhaps multiple inlaid upon themselves.
Upon entering, however, her form ripples and returns to her half-elven shape and she huffs, thumb tracing her finger once more and closing her eyes, before simply moving over to the bench. Once the food and drink is delivered, she is promptly told by her body that she isn't terribly hungry, and so she simply sits for now.
Xander considers taking the mithril without a word, and he considers turning them away with noble intentions. Instead, he holds out his arms and says, "You can count on me to use these as a resource, if you give them to me and I need them. We're short on options. We're not going to find what we need in the shops and stores of this town."
"Scrying and teleportation are powerful magic. If we are to find them here, we're going to need to make friends. My plan is to visit the arcane college and speak with the faculty there. If you give me this mithril, the most likely scenario is that I offer it to a teacher of devil summoning in exchange for his knowledge. Do you still want to give it to me?"
Given that Unafe's decided the best thing for herself to do is sleep, Xander figures he needs to solve their problem alone. Whether or not she gives him the mithril after all, Xander marches off to the city's arcane college right away, hoping to speak to somebody there versed enough in conjuration and divination to help him.
"4 of us total. 3 guards. All daemons. 1 thanadaemon. 2 derghodaemons. Please hurry. They've broken my hands. I love you, so very much."
They are slightly faster than the average human, and like to rend creatures into shreds with their claws ().
Derghodaemons are resistant to all weapons, unless they are blessed.
Derghodaemons are immune to acid, death magic, disease and poison,
Derghodaemons resist cold, electricity, and fire.
Derghodaemons have natural resistance to all magic
Derghodaemons tend to have strong fortitude, but weak wills.
Derghodaemons can grind and click their mandibles at will as a free action to affect all non-daemons within 30' with feeblemind. There is a chance that this effect can become permanent, only curable by way of heal, limited wish, miracle or wish. This is a sonic, mind-affecting effect.
Derghodaemons personify death resulting from violent insanity, such as being murdered by a maniac or torn to shreds by a pack of rabid predators. These insectoid creatures roam the Outer Planes, scavenging battlefields and following the inevitable trail of violence in those hostile worlds. They hunt the weak and dying along the fringe of battles, feeding off their victims’ suffering until they make their kill. Attacks from a derghodaemon often come from within a cloud of biting insects.
Brutish and low on intellect, derghodaemons find themselves serving as front-line fighters in fiendish armies.
Multi-limbed insectile horrors, derghodaemons spawn from souls slain by violent insanity, whether it be a mortal butchered by a psychotic criminal, a schizophrenic gutting himself to remove the invisible insects in his veins, or similar grisly scenarios. Moving with an irregular, skittering motion, perpetually chattering and jerking their limbs, these daemons disturb those who view them at a visceral level. Derghodaemons most often serve in the vanguards of daemon armies, herded forward by their more intelligent kindred. Their array of limbs and eyes allows them to wallow in the fray, lashing out at all they encounter, while their ability to induce confusion sows discord among foes. Notoriously difficult to control, derghodaemons left to roam the wilds of Abaddon seek portals leading onto the Material Plane and other sites where conflicts often arise. Even on other planes they seek carnage, hunting for victims of opportunity, tearing apart and devouring anything smaller than themselves, including those who conjure them but lack the prowess to control them.
Derghodaemons are pleased by human sacrifice - though it generally requires at least the sacrifice of 8 souls to satiate them, unless the sacrifice is a particularly powerful individual. Derghodaemons generally only comply with mortal commands when promised additional sacrificies after completing the command.
Isilme and Ehren see Aravashnial sitting in a hay-covered jail cell. He is bloodied and bruised. His hands are a mangled mess. He does not appear to notice the scrying center. He is seated, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. He is crammed in a small space with what appears to be a dozen halflings, all wearing manacles and iron neck collars. The halflings vary in age, from the very old, to some that are merely toddlers.
Their attacks sap a victim's soul .
Thanadaemons have darkvision and true seeing.
They rarely speak mortal languages, but they are capable of telepathy. They speak Abyssal, Infernal, and Draconic on average.
Thanadaemons are resistant to all weapons except blessed ones. . Thanadaemons are immune to acid, death effects, disease, and poison. They are resistant to cold, electricity, and fire.
They have an innate resistance to all forms of magic.
Their very gaze is enough to cause most mortals to quake in fear and panic. Their gaze can cause someone to cower in fear within 30' for up to over half of a minute. This is a mind-affecting fear effect.
Thanadaemons tend to carry soul gems, which they can use to heal. This action condemns that soul to Abaddon. They are unable to create soul gems themselves, preferring to barter for them from mortals.
Thanadaemons are constantly capable of air walk and move about as quickly as the average human. They can greater teleport at will, as well as plane shift at will to the Astral, Ethereal, or evil outer planes.
Multiple times per day they can animate dead, desecrate or enervate.
They can also attempt to summon other thanadaemons (35%) or summon hydrodaemons (80%).
Thanadaemons represent inevitable death through old age. They can be bribed with valuables that have been stolen from a crypt, and enjoy collecting soul gems and lich's phylacteries.
Isilme doesn't hear Desna's words, as much as she can feel her intent, deep inside her soul. Cygnus, despite its disguise, suddenly flares with blue light and warmth, before vanishing again.
When Xander talks about giving Demetae mithral to devils, or devil-worshippers, her arm starts to tremble.
Finally she says, "OK, Goryon forgive me, if that's what it takes to save their lives, do it."
The response given by Aravashnial was at once terrifying and enraging to Isilme. She felt helpless and wanted to rush in to save him regardless of the cost. But she couldn't, not yet... Not and have any chance of actually saving him. She stops for a moment to look down at the fading blue light from Cygnus. Nor would she even begin to be able to obey the commands of her Lady Starsong. She might have been able to teleport out with Ai'sintar and the other Riftwardens. At this point she could teleport a half-dozen times in a row if she needed to, assuming she got to rest before they went.
When Ehren completes the scrying, Isilme points out the Daemon. "There are two Derghodaemons and a Thanadaemon there guarding them. I haven't ever dealt with them, and I suspect going in without knowing what they are capable of could result in us dying quickly. Additionally..." She pauses for a moment, frustrated at having to lean so hard on Ehren. Without the rest of their group there to help, this was rapidly becoming an insurmountable task. "We have to rescue the halflings as well. There are another dozen there beyond what we can see. I know this complicates things quite a bit. I am going to send to Xander and see if we can expect help. Given the level of threat we're facing, we may need to stay here until tomorrow morning either way, as I am not sure we can afford to risk going without all our spells prepared for this, and I need to discover everything about those Daemons I can. If only Ary were here."
Isilme sighs and looks up at the trap door, then looks at Ehren. "This is going to be way more risky than I had imagined, and I cannot even conceive of how I could do this alone. I am glad you are here Ehren. What I'm trying to do here is far beyond anything I have the right to ask of you though. Especially with Hinagiku captured. I will understand if you don't want to risk trying to save them all. If Xander and Unafe can't come to our aid, it may very well be a death sentence." Isilme pulls her legs up to her chest and buries her head between her knees, feeling more vulnerable than she had in ages. Her powers were limited, and she'd burned through every last drop of divine energy she had available to her through Cygnus at this point.
Once she's composed herself, she begins to focus on the problem at hand: Knowledge of the Daemons. Ary was the expert in this, she'd easily be able to identify what they were and how to deal with them. With her own once-vast memory no longer accessible to her--it having faded after tossing her hilt-turned-starknife into the sacrificial portal in Heaven--she would have to work a hundred times harder to learn what they needed to know. But she did have one thing going for her, access to a bewilderingly wide array of spells for knowledge gathering, and the expertise to use them from having been Drezen's Spymaster.
She begins going over the magic she'd need in order to gather the information, choosing each spell prepared with the utmost care. Once she's finished, she begins what essentially was the most complicated knowledge-gathering ritual she had ever attempted.
First she begins by enchanting herself with the spells that would last the duration of the inquiry, beginning with good hope and bestow insight, both of which would augment her ability to process quickly the information she'd be gathering from the ritual. The latter she infuses with a sliver of her goddess's divine favor. She then casts moment of greatness to further augment the benefits of good hope. She summons a flute to help her concentrate, playing a soft tune inbetween casting spells, the soft melody reminiscent of the times she'd spent with Aravashnial back when it had been him, Elan and herself and life had seemed so effortless.
Finally she lays out her spellbook before her, turning it to a blank page at the back and pours a small amount of ink on the page, enchanting it with the spell she had mastered specifically to help compensate for the knowledge she had lost, page-bound epiphany which she enhances with divine power as she had the insight spell. She continues to play softly as the ink flows into words from a thousand tomes, in nearly as many languages. Despite the variety, when she focuses on any individual bit of information it appears in celestial script to her, allowing her to take in the tidbits as quickly as she can study them. Within a minute the spell ends, leaving her with a much greater understanding of the Thanadaemon. Rather than focus on that, however, she immediately repeats casting moment of greatness and page-bound epiphany a second time, this time attempting to divine the nature of Derghodaemons.
After she finishes she puts away the book and allows the flute to vanish, then sits in silence for a few minutes, pondering what she'd learned. "They are powerful foes, but something we can deal with, I think. It will not be easy by any means, but between us I think we have magic sufficient to deal with them. We absolutely will if Xander and Unafe can rejoin us. Of course who knows who or what else is there, but at least we can focus on this problem for the time being."
Boccanegra Academie stands on an enormous hill in the Rego Sacero, past the enormous, 100-ft-tall statue of Aroden that stands at the top of the Arodennama. The hill overlooks Gemcrown Bay, with many black and red Chelish sails unfurling in the distance.
Xander reaches the Academie in the late afternoon. Boccanegra is an enormous, gothic-styled castle hewn from stone, decorated with enormous stained glass windows that depict various devils and images from The Asmodean Disciplines. The wooden double doors are closed, and flanked by two guards wearing ornate plate-mail.
The guards look over Xander. "State your business," says the one on the right.
While Xander heads off to deal with the devil summoners, Unafe gets a room at a local bed and breakfast. Her room is very comfortable and lush, with an enormous feather bed, and handsome mahogany furnishings. It has its own bathroom, which contains a mirror and private tub. During Unafe's stay at Veronica's, she is given a slave-girl to attend to her every need. She introduces herself as Mirabella. She is a pale-skinned young halfling girl with long black hair.
Mirabella brings Unafe snacks and drinks: endives, goat cheese, fresh oranges and almonds on a platter, and a pitcher of fresh sangria.
Afterwards, she looks up at Unafe expectantly. "Is there anything else that you need?" she asks.
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In the Underdark they had managed to fell an entire troop of duergar slavers, liberating dozens of slaves in the process. But that feat was only possible because their entire team had worked together. Here and now it is just the two of them, facing what appear to be insurmountable odds. His fellow Riftwardens aside, saving even just Aravashnial would be incredibly difficult. But now they have to rescue another twenty-four people? From the grasp of not only the Blackfire Adepts, but three powerful outsiders?
Ehren changes back to his true form, his need to express his humanity taking precedence over his usual sense of pragmatism. Letting out a shaky breath, he sets Faith down before sitting next to Isilme. He gives her a sidelong glance, having never seen her look so vulnerable before. It would only make what he has to say to her even harder.
"Hinagiku can take care of herself," Ehren replies softly, shaking his head. "I love her dearly, but it is not her life that is at stake here." The druid closes his eyes, reminiscing about times past. “I am not exactly close friends with him, but I understand how much Aravashnial means to you and Li’an. And if it were not for him, I might have never made it out of Kenabres alive. I can say the same about all of the friends I made there. Including you.” A fleeting smile crosses his lips. “Back then, I would have gladly laid down my life for any of them. But now...”
Reaching up, Ehren removes his crown and holds it before him. He looks down at it with resignation, peering through the empty space where his head should be.
“Too many people need me now. I cannot leave Sarkoris without an Archdruid. Not again.” The archdruid turns to Isilme, looking her in the eye. “I swear to you, Isilme, I will do everything in my power to help you save everyone. But if at any moment failure becomes an inevitability… I will do what I must.”
He lets his words hang in the air for a painfully long time before returning the circlet to his head and clearing his throat. “So. Instead of letting it come to that, let’s do what we always do and wrest victory from improbability.”
The insights Isilme manages to glean on the daemons with her spellcraft provides little comfort, but at least they are now less likely to fall prey to their own ignorance. With her information, they can develop a proper plan of action.
“If we can get into Sophini’s from the sewers somehow, we can secure both an entry point and an escape route. I can prepare some spells to protect us from the worst of the daemons’ powers, but that won’t leave me with much to fight with, especially if the Adepts manage to intervene.” Ehren frowns. “If Xander and Unafe can teleport back, I think they can enter the city the way we got out.”
"That is a relief," Isilme responds frankly to Ehren's statement that he would leave if the worst happened. "I will do everything I can to avoid us getting to that point, but I will not be able to leave if it does. It is freeing to know that you will not hesitate if that moment arrives."
Turning her attention back to the planning, she adds "Perhaps a wall of stone would allow us to keep the other Blackfyre Adepts from helping. It will help immensely if they can come along. Perhaps later tonight we can attempt to find a route to the compound through the sewers. I should be able to use my magic to trace the staff of the Thanademon, much like I did with Cygnus."
Frowning quizzically, Xander symbolically tries to peek by the guards for a moment before meeting their gazes. He fumbles with his pack for a few moments, flashing glances of scrolls and his books. "I'm sorry," he mutters, "Did I miss it? I was told I would be able to enter, if I sought knowledge about conjuration. I was hoping," he says, looking up at the guards with a plaintive look, "To be able to speak to a faculty member. About a somewhat private matter, I'm afraid, but suffice it to say that I require the services of the master arcanists of Cheliax. Would you let me in? I'll be no bother to anyone."
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While Xander goes to the university to deal with the arcanists, Valais goes with Unafe to the bed-and-breakfast. For a librarian, she was tough, but the limits of her willing endurance had been reached during the long flight through the desert. She has definite mixed feelings about the service from the slave, and tries to push the girl off so she can do anything that needs to be done, including serve food, pour drinks, run herself a bath, or whatever else it is that needs to be done. She invites the slave girl to relax in the room with them rather than rush off to do more work.
"Listen," she says, "If any of your bosses ask, I'll just tell them we were working you really hard."
The guards' faces are hard to read underneath their helmets. They glance at each other, then look at Xander's pack full of wizard-ly looking stuff, then go ahead and open the door for him.
The double doors open into an enormous entrance-hall. The floor is made of dark hardwood, and there are several marble pillars that help support the high ceiling. As he enters, a gaggle of about a dozen students rush by. They are around the ages of 10-13, and all wear a black-and-red uniform emblazoned with a pentagram on the chest. Several of them have familiars, mostly birds, but there is one sleek black cat that dutifully follows at her master's heels.
Once they pass, Xander is free to walk up to the receptionist, who glances at him with a bored expression over her glasses. "Maj pov," she says. "Whom are you here to see? Or are you looking to enroll, Mister...?" she trails off.
"Good afternoon."
Xander gives a small bow using just his neck and head. "Potts," he says, "I'm here to meet with your librarian. I'm in search of knowledge, after all."
Looking back at the gaggle of kids, he gives a gesture to himself. "I think I'm a bit old to begin an education, anyway," he adds with a chuckle.
The receptionist huffs, pulling out a piece of parchment. It it written in Infernal. It has a field for name, purpose of visit, and date.
"Sign in, please," she says, handing over a quill pen.
Once he signs in, she points. "Left door, down the hall, five doors down on the left."
The left door leads into a long hallway with many doors on both sides of the hall. The hall ends with a spiral staircase that goes upwards. Will Xander simply follow her instructions? Or will he go through a different door?
Xander smiles, tips his head at the receptionist, and goes down the hallway. He meanders slowly enough to read any signage that might be on any of the other doors on the way, and randomly checks one with an, "Oh, sorry, wrong door," briefly. Still, he doesn't have much information about what to find in here yet. There was no better place to start looking than in the library.
He goes down the left-side door five doors down. Once inside he stops and takes the whole place in -- librarians, library organization, and scale.
Xander intrudes on one conjuration lesson - the entire class turns and stares at him: a group of twelve teenagers wearing full robes and masks surrounding a magical seal on the ground painted in goat's blood. The sacrifice lays dead in the middle of the circle. They stare silently at him until he leaves.
But eventually he reaches the library. The door passes along a desk, helmed by a fat, old woman. "And who are you? The library is for students and faculty only" she sneers in her thick Chelish accent.
Xander puts a hand to his chest and jumps back with shock at the librarian's outburst. He gasps. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" he asks, his eyes wide with innocent shock and his stance open. "I'm not an ongoing student, but I was told to come in here. I'm doing research, and I heard that this library boasts the best collection of knowledge. I got permission at the door to do my research here. Could I possibly stay, just for a little while, and maybe ask you some questions?"
Overall, he tries his best to appear innocent, disarming, honest, and like he's just maybe new here. His palm is up, his staff is in the other hand.
The librarian opens her mouth to reply, when a passing man, overhearing their conversation, approaches the pair. The librarian turns to him and says, "Master Echevarria!"
Master Echevarria is a Chelish man, tall and thin, wearing sleek, tailored robes in the same black and red color scheme. His hair is black and slicked back, and he wears a pair of glasses. "Oh, and who is this? Could you be a traveling scholar?" he asks, peering at Xander closely.
Xander smiles, giving a relieved-but-nervous laugh as he does so. He runs a hand through his hair, stepping back with one foot and looking up like he's thinking as he does so. "Ah, yes. I think that sums it up nicely," he responds. "I'm looking for some spell knowledge. It's rather important, and urgent, and I don't know where else to go other than here. Can you help me? I have knowledge of my own, if you have the time to talk."
Master Echevarria raises both eyebrows. "Oh? What sort of magic do you specialize in?" He strides past him, gesturing at Xander with his free hand. His other arm carries three books. "Come, let's continue this conversation in my office. What exactly are you looking for?"
Master Echevarria leads Xander down the hallway and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs he turns right, then right again, before unlocking the door to a small, cozy office space bedecked in dark colored furniture accentuated by the crisp, white walls. He sits at his desk, and gestures for Xander to sit across from him.
Xander follows along with the professor into his office with a sigh and a happy smile. "To be honest," he begins, "I am quite practiced with all schools of magic... except for conjuration. My true specialization is shadow magic, but that kind of magic has strict limits."
He sits down in Echevarria's chair with a whoosh of lazy air. "What about you? What's your interest in magic?"
Master Echevarria grins. "Oh! So you're an illusionist then, yes, Sir... I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name...?"
He gestures to his office wall, which is decorated with various preserved animals and re-constructed skeletons of bats and weasels. "I am a professor of necromancy at this school, specifically in spells that manipulate emotions." He rolls his eyes. "So many plebians tend to associate my profession with the undead, when the re-animating of bodies is just a small facet of the school of necromancy...."
He sighs. "But I could go on and on for hours on this subject. What has brought you to travel to Boccanegra? Are you seeking education on conjuration magic to fill in your education as a universalist?"
Xander rubs his chin and frowns as he considers how forthright to be. For now he elects to pass by the question about his name and go right to the point. He tells Echevarria: "I am looking for knowledge of scrying and teleport. Scrolls, as well, if possible. None of the shopkeeps in the town had anything comparable, as I'm sure you know." He looks up at Echevarria. "Do you know these spells, or know who to ask to get them?"
Master Echevarria leans back in his seat and strokes his chin. "I do not know these spells, no, but, we do have a crystal ball available for divinations, and a rather expansive library of scrolls. The only issue is, naturally, these things are reserved for faculty use only..."
He grins. "But! I do happen to know that the Headmistress is looking to hire a shadow magic specialist... there is an issue with shadow beasts attacking Wiscrani people at night, and we have received a directive from the Lord-Mayor to look into it... It is only an adjunct teaching position, but that would be sufficient to gain you access to the resources you are looking for. Who knows, if you impressed the Headmistress perhaps you could be signed on tonight! What do you think?"
After Hinagiku was finished speaking with her physician, she laid back down in the hospital bed and went into a state of suspended animation. Her senses cut off from the world, her heartbeat stilled and she ceased taking in breath.
Appearing dead to the world, Hinagiku was taken aside once she was pronounced dead, and placed somewhere for several hours. In the early evening, she was brought to an enbalmer, who proceeds to preserve her body so that she can be stored without risk of rot or disease.
The enbalmer uses a syringe spear to inject an arsenic solution into her neck, and then again into her stomach.
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While her body is left in a dormant state, Hinagiku's mind looses itself into the many threads of the world. And so, without a consciousness, Hinagiku knows nothing of what happens to her body. That is, until night comes, at which point Hinagiku is once more.
Xander leans forward onto his knees, engaged and ready. It was strange that the school he had visited was looking for a specialist of his own specialty, but he wasn't about to do anything but take advantage of it.
"I say... that's an awfully good deal that you're offering me. Shall we go to meet her now?"
Master Echevarria pulls a pocketwatch out from his robes. "Hmmm. It is not too late, but only if we go immediately."
He takes Xander away from his office and towards the far end through a pair of double doors. These lead up to a small, spiral staircase up a tower to another office. This one is much larger, and there are four more doors that lead out from it.
The Headmistress - Noelia Villar, as indicated by the plaque on her desk, is busy writing a letter with an ostentatiously large feather quill pen. She is an older Taldan woman with brown hair with streaks of grey tied up in a messy bun. She wears the same black and red uniform as Echevarria, but it has impressively large and ornate shoulder-pads.
Master Echevarria introduces Xander to her. "Headmistress, I am sorry to intrude, but I have met an interesting foreigner. We have a visiting scholar who claims to be an expert in shadow magic!"
"Oh?" says the Headmistress. Her accent is Galtan. "How strangely fortuitous! And what is your name?" she gestures for Xander to sit, while Master Echevarria takes a seat further away, behind Xander.
An imp scurries across the Headmistress' desk, seating itself next to her ink pot. She puts her letter away, and takes out a new sheet of paper to take notes with. "Where did you train in shadow magic?"
Xander tries his best to memorize the route that he and Echevarria take, but also comforts himself with the knowledge that it would probably be fine. In the absolute worst case scenarios, he could teleport through a window before needing to rush about the holidays in order to escape.
He runs his hand through his hair as he sits in the armchair across from the Headmistress. How to answer a question like: who was he and where did he learn magic? Puzzling, since Xander thought that the truth would only confuse them. Either that or they might try to capture and study him.
"My name is Alexander Potts," he says by way of introduction, "I trained in Absalom, but not under any master. I stole textbooks from the Pathfinders and taught myself. Eventually, I was able to meet other wizards and learn from them, as well."
He throws up a hand, giving them a reassuring smile as he does so. "Don't let that sketchy story fool you, though. I'm as good as they come. I've lived a hard life, longer than it might seem at first glance. Honestly, I'd be doing you a favor by doing work for you. Then again, I need something from you as well -- use of some of your facilities."
The headmistress smirks, her enormous pen swaying back and forth as she scrawls notes in Infernal. She continues interviewing Xander.
"How resourceful. Well, then Master Potts, I have a few questions for you, naturally, to determine if you are a good fit for this position. So, have you ever worked in an academic setting, then? If so, where?"
"What sorts of research have you been involved in? Do you have any teaching experience? If so, where, and with what age or skill range of students?"
"Shadow magic requires a fair level of expertise and creativity - a skill that is crucial for a professor to be able to pass down to our students. Can you share a time that you used shadow magic to creatively solve a problem?"
"Can you demonstrate any shadow magic right now? If not, do you have a spellbook or scrolls of shadow magic that you can show to me? I'd like to assess your skill-level, to see if it meets our expectations..."
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"Potts" scoots forward in his seat a bit, moving to the edge to better sit up straight. "Actually yes, I do teach in a university. Or, I have, at least. I've even taught arcane magic -- mostly with teenagers and young adults. I am an expert in fifteen languages, ancient history, and planar phenomena in addition to arcane lore."
"Have you heard of the university in Drezen? I have a position there. The students there are typically war orphans with no previous arcane training, or really higher education of any kind. Teaching there involves a lot of... communication difficulties." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "As for research -- I have done a fair amount of research on simulacra and the variants thereof, and I have also cooperated with the local druidic circles on research into Sarkorian druidic lore."
When asked the question about using shadow magic creatively, he has to pause, and think for a moment. The purpose of shadow magic, to him, was to offer the abilities of regular magic, but it also had its own unique benefits.
"Once, I got into a fight with some foul creatures inside of a church. Surely you know that awareness of an illusion spell aids in resisting it, so I told my allies that I would use one. Then, I filled the church with illusory choking gas. It impeded the senses and movement of my enemies, while my allies were free to act and see."
Then he is asked to demonstrate magic. The first thing he does is withdraw his blessed book and place it on the table between them. Then he ponders what magic to use. Knowing that his magic cannot be identified, he opts for a choice that is more visually obvious than a copy of another school's spell. Calling on the knowledge inside his spellbook, he traces arcane runes in the air while chanting. After a few moments, his body mystically grows shadowy and wispy as bits of it are replaced by illusory material from the Plane of Shadows. "This spell is useful for defense," he says with an obscured grin. "It renders any attack directed towards me as quasi-real as the shadow magic I myself use."
Headmistress Villar overall seems pleased with Xander's responses. "Yes I have heard of what you speak - The Mad Master's University for the Gifted, yes? I'm impressed you've worked at such a place. What a touching act of charity,." she says, a smile on her lips. "Here at Boccanegra, our students must be at least ten years old and able to pass a minimum competency examination, though we will make exceptions on the age limitation for prodigies. Most have experienced some form of magical tutoring at home, while others come from old, established arcane families."
"Oh, you'll like it here if you enjoy simulcra. We have a full golem-building workshop in the basement. We have an annual gladiatorial competition for the students to compete in!"
Her smile broadens when Xander reveals a sampling of his magic. She leans in close to inspect it further. "Oh! Now that is some fascinating magic..." After finishing a few more notes, she rolls up her scroll.
"I would love to have you here at Boccanegra. The adjunct professorship position requires you to teach one month of classes per semester, related to your expertise, and also to serve as our resident expert and consult on matters related to shadow magic. You would be paid 600 platinum per class. You would be held to a contract of three years, after which you could be considered for tenure, depending on your performance during the contract."
"I'd love to have you sign on immediately, what do you say?"
Let's not allow it come to that, he reminds himself as he packs away the scrying mirror. The druid removes his cloak and wraps Ary's heirloom shield in it before packing it into his bag.
"We will have to be careful that they do not trace us back here, but I agree. We should make the most of our time before trying to get any rest."
Xander nods and gives serious 'hmms' as she gives her analysis of his spellcasting capabilities and experience, and smiles broadly when she offers him the position. The pay was pretty significantly high, and Xander's mind is already hard at work thinking of a way to collect that salary without needing to spend a third of every year in Cheliax.
Still, he was being offered what he wanted. He would need to speak to Unafe later, of course, but for now he could work on the necessary task of getting back to his allies.
He speaks up. "Of course I will take the position. I have some immediate personal matters to take care of, but I could be ready to teach a class by next semester. Does that work for you?"
"I also heard from Echevarria that you're having some issues with shadow...beasts? Here in town? Is there something I can do for you related to that?"
"Yes, yes, they make it terribly dangerous to go out at night. We've been tasked with determining if we can create a spell or artifice to repel them," says Headmistress Villar in response to Xander's query of the shadow beasts. "The Lord-Mayor is offering a significant amount of funding."
"Of course, we do not expect you lecture extemporaneously. Let us know which month in the spring works best for your schedule by the first of Kuthona at the latest, along with a written copy of your syllabus." She seems happy that Xander was willing to take her offer. She stands up from her chair and extends a hand to shake. "Most excellent, Master Potts. We'll just have Lavath draft the contract up, have you sign, and then I can lead you on a tour of the resources we provide."
She turns from her desk and strides to the back of her enormous octagonal shaped office. She goes through one of the doors. A few moments pass, and she returns accompanied by a female devil, wearing a sharply tailored dark suit. From her brow juts four enormous horns, which curve behind of her and around her body. Long contracts are draped over the horns, written in Abyssal. They sway gently back and forth as she approaches Xander, smiling.
She gestures with her free hand, and a contract appears out of thin air. It unfurls, easily reaching the floor. It is maybe twelve feet long, and written in extremely tiny Infernal runes. After appearing, the runes glow an ominous red, before dimming into simple, black ink. She rolls it up until it reaches the bottom, which is where Xander would need to sign.
At the same time, the Headmistress reaches for a drawer, pulling out a black quill with a wickedly large and sharp tip. She hands it to Xander. "Thank you, Lavath. Here, Master Potts. Press this against the tip of your finger before signing. Infernal Contracts must be signed in blood," she says, cheerfully.
Xander can read Infernal, and is extremely intelligent, so it is not a challenge for him to skim the contract. However it is written in dense legalese, so it would take several days for him to even attempt to fully read all of the fine print and comprehend it.
From what he can read from a basic skim, he can discern the following:
- The contract term is 3 years, after which Xander is released from the contract's obligations.
- Xander must teach one class per academic semesters that lasts a minimum of one month. He is free to determine subject matter as long as it relates to shadow magic.
- Boccanegra has a fall semester and a spring semester required for all students to attend. Bonus winter and summer classes are provided for particularly ambitious students, or to serve as make-up classes for delinquents.
- Xander is expected to provide the class on-site in Westcrown, but is not expected to live at Boccanegra otherwise.
- Xander is expected to answer sending attempts and missives cooperatively, as he is expected to offer his expertise on shadow magic year-round for the duration of the contract.
- Xander is guaranteed 600 platinum paid in full after the conclusion of a class.
- Xander is provided food and lodging year-round at Boccanegra.
- Xander is provided full access to all faculty resources.
- The contract is signed in allegiance to the Archdevil Geryon, Boccanegra's patron.
- Boccanegra staff are provided Geryon's Blessing, which empowers them with See in Darkness, with additional boons that may be granted as a reward for loyalty to the Academie.
This is a "contract devil". Contract devils are hired to draft Infernal contracts. They are used amongst the Chelish elite for legal purposes.
Contract Devils can speak telepathically, and due to their ability to speak in tongues, are capable of communicating to any creature capable of language.
"Contract Devil" is the layman's term for them, the Infernal title for their class of devil is "Phistophilus". Like most devils, they can see in darkness, and can only be harmed by good-aligned weapons.
Contract Devils are immune to fire and mind-affecting effects, and poison. They resist acid and cold. Like most outsiders, they have a base resistance to most forms of magic.
Contract Devils generally avoid conflict, but when cornered into a fight, they can lash out with the contracts they carry on their horns as weapons, entangling them in a mass of paper and impaling foes with their enormous horns. Contracts bound to a Contract Devil cannot be destroyed unless the Contact Devil dies.
Contract Devils speak in tongues. They can bestow curses at will, detect thoughts at will, create dimensional doors, erase magical writings, identify magical auras, summon flame and illusions. They can send at will, which they often use to contact contractees.
They also can create magical sensors, break enchantment, teleport, paralyze humanoids, divine for the location of a hidden creature, shield themselves from divination magic, cast silence and scorching ray as well as divine information about particularly powerful or famous individuals.
They typically work in service to an Infernal hierarchy helmed by an Archdevil, whom they can contact for advice or to pass along information. They can dismiss other outsiders back to their home plane, as well as plane shift to Hell and the Material. They can draw symbols of pain and summon bearded and bone devils to defend them.
Contract Devils have strong wills but weak fortitude due to their smaller frame. They are perceptive, deceitful, and persuasive. They are extremely well educated on matters both of mortal-kind and of Hell and magic.
As a subclause of all infernal contracts, a contract devil can use greater scrying at will upon any creature it has a contract with. The target creature always fails its save against the devil’s scrying attempt—this ability otherwise functions at caster level 20th.
Contract devils serve Asmodeus, archfiends, and the vast bureaucracy of Hell as clerks, scribes, and bargainers for mortal souls. They exist to keep track of the damned, to manage Hell’s endless ordinances, and, when time and opportunity permit, to coax mortals into damnation. Most phistophiluses spend their eternities in the various courts of Hell’s nine layers, particularly in the maze-like fortress-libraries where all infernal laws and oaths are recorded. Occasionally they serve similar roles on the Material Plane.
Infernal Contracts written by Contract Devils are capable of extraordinarily powerful magics, powered by Hell itself. This magic is equivalent to the power of wishes.
When one of the souls damned by a contract devil is restored to life (typically via powerful magic like a wish or miracle), the phistophilus immediately notices the transgression. Usually, the contract devil recruits the aid of more powerful allies to track down and punish such transgressors and to collect the escaped soul as quickly as possible.
An agreement with a contract devil can only be broken in two ways. When a contract is signed, a second copy manifests; one copy is retained by the devil and the other is given to the mortal. Mortals are free to do whatever they please with the lengthy, obviously evil documents, while contract devils typically keep active contracts with them at all times. Should both copies of a contract be destroyed, any effects caused by the contract are canceled or reversed and the mortal’s soul goes to its normal place of rest after death and can be resurrected as normal. Merely absconding with both copies of the contract is not enough to break the contract—as long as both copies exist, the signer’s soul remains forever damned. Alternatively, a second mortal might be allowed to adopt the terms of a contract—with its soul replacing that of the original contract signer after death. The mortal who seeks to pay the debt of another must contact the contract devil who holds the relevant contract. The contract devil has a choice of whether or not to allow one mortal to pay another’s debt, but values religious and good-aligned souls over others. Shrewd manipulators, contract devils often only agree to allow one mortal to pay another’s debt in return for some service or proof of worth. If a contract devil agrees to accept another soul in payment, the original contract signer retains all of the benefits of the contract, but is released from damnation and may be resurrected as normal. The new signer, however, receives no benefits, cannot be returned to life upon dying, and spends an eternity in Hell after death.
Xander considers his options for a mere moment before plucking the pen from the Headmistress' grasp, pricking his finger, and signing his name. He signs an ornate 'A.X.P.' before giving the pen back to the Headmistress. He meets the devil in the eye briefly before looking away to refocus on his task.
Reminding himself to speak with Unafe soon, he stands. "You said you have a tour. Then.. will I get some sort of identification?" He grins at the professors and the devil around him and waggles his brows. "Will I get one of those snazzy robes?"
After Xander signs the contract, his name glows a brilliant red before fading to a dull, stained brown. Another, identical contract appears in the devil's other hand. She keeps the original, and gives Xander the copy, neatly rolled up and stored inside a scroll-case emblazoned with a crimson snake's head. "Pleasure doing business with you," says Lavath, before sauntering back through the door she came.
"Yes, as stated in the contract, all professors are expected to wear uniforms while staying at the Academie. Uniforms help mark you as staff, which is important for your safety in the case of visiting devils or fiends. I'll have my slip, Theodora, measure you so that she can have a uniform prepared for you tomorrow. Come, this way," she gestures into another room attached to her office, which seems to be a small slaves' quarters. A halfling with rosy cheeks and curly blonde hair in pigtails emerges and meekly says, "Yes, mistress?"
"Theodora, this is Master Potts. Kindly measure Master Potts for a set of professor's robes."
"Yes, mistress. Right away, mistress," she says, her voice small and hollow.
Xander feels the staff of freedom's command, his bonded object, pulse in his hand in response to sensing the proximity of a slave. It screams out in his head: "FREE HER." The redeemed staff, forged using power drawn from Heaven itself, attempts to seize control of Xander entirely....
The crimson snake's head is the unholy symbol of Geryon, Archdevil of the fifth layer of Hell.
Unafe thanks the little halfling woman for the food, and for turning back the covers on her bed.
Then she sees Valais's expression and gasps. "You've been enslaved, haven't you? My companion mentioned to me that slavery is legal here, but, well, I've never encountered it before.
"You said your name is Mirabella? I'm Unafe. Is there anything I can do for you? Are you in danger? Is there anything you need?"
"No, miss, you do not understand," says Mirabella softly. "I was not enslaved, I was born a slave. Mistress Veronica says the Dark Prince teaches that we are all born with a role to perform... so this is just the role that has been assigned to my people."
"Mistress Veronica is good and kind and fair," Mirabella rehearses dutifully, in a sweet voice with a kind smile. "It is an honor to work for Mistress Veronica. I do not want or need anything."
Mirabella is visibly uncomfortable when Valais starts to try and perform her work for her, but she doesn't dare push her aside. She nervously flattens the ruffles in her maid uniform. "If you have need of me, please pull this cord. It will ring a bell outside your door and I will come. My bed is just outside in the hall. "
Valais paces the room for several moments, thinking over whether or not there was anything she could do for Mirabella. Soon, she declares that she was going to go to sleep, and asks Unafe to wake her up once Xander returned. She retreats to her bedroom and closes the door.
Xander realizes what is going on before the staff starts asserting its personality onto him. He did not communicate much with his staff since its redemption, but to be fair, the staff was inert most of the time. Its only purpose for existing was the liberation of slaves, after all, and there were no slaves kept in Drezen.
He knows that he can speak telepathically with it - so he begins, "If we run out the door with a slave over our shoulder like a bag of potatoes, they'll just run us down. We need a plan-"
The staff, though, was dissatisfied. "WHEN? AT THE END OF YOUR CONTRACT?" it spits back at him, venomously. Clearly it did not agree with some of his most recent life-decisions.
Xander feels his hand jerk out, without his consent. It grasps Theodora's shoulders, and then he steps through a portal crafted by dimension door with her in tow, appearing out in the street behind the school.
The staff was not satisfied with merely getting away. It wanted to feel as though Theodora was now safe. It forces him to carry Theodora in one arm, who promptly buries her head in his neck and sobs. They make a run for it, dashing across the city back to the Rego Pena.
As he moves across the city, he draws some attention due to the crying halfling woman he is carrying, but most assume that she is his slave and do not bother him, though at least one irritated old man yells at him to 'get better control of that f+@$ing slip!'. He also feels multiple magical attempts on his mind - scrying attempts, before at last he does see magical sensor appear in the air before him. It follows him for several minutes as he walks down the Westcrown streets before vanishing.
"MASTER POTTS," rings out Lavath's voice in his head. A sending. "Kindly review line 272-subsection-δ. Seizure of resident slaves for experimentation is non-permissible! Use specifically marked sacrificial chattel for academic purposes ONLY."
A second sending is sent afterwards, regardless of Xander's initial reply: "Use of Academie facilities will be prohibited until you return the seized property or, if property has already been destroyed, a new slave is provided to the school of equal value of the destroyed slave."
Xander eventually finds Veronica's Bed and Breakfast just as the sun is starting to hang heavy in the sky. The streets were basically deserted at this point. He knocks on the door, and is greeted by Veronica. Veronica informs Xander that according to their assigned houseslave, Unafe and Valais were asleep, but that she would inform them of his arrival once they awakened. She tells Xander that with the sun setting, she was going to bar all of the doors shut until morning soon, but that he was lucky in that she still had a room available, large enough for him and his slip. It is located in a repurposed attic, which makes it a bit chilly, but the furnishings are tasteful and cozy.
Xander is assigned a houseslave as well, a young halfling man named Ed. Upon his arrival, the staff of freedom's command thrummed with displeasure, and despite Xander's repeated attempts to reason with it, once again attempted to compel Xander to abscond with Ed (and Theodora) through the window and into the night. This time, however, Xander wins the battle of wills with the staff, and is able to subdue it long enough to finally put it down and wrap it in a blanket.
Ed eventually returns with dinner - fried chicken thighs, fingerling potatoes, bell pepper, onion, tossed in Lingshenese-5-spice and devil-pepper aioli. He asks if Xander wants a bath drawn before bed, and if he has anything else that he needs. He points to a drawstring next to the bed, which is tied to a bell to summon him whenever he needs him.
Once Ed is gone, Theodora recoils away from Xander and balls up on the floor and starts to sob. "What are you going to do to me, Master?! What did I do to you?! Please, let me go!"
It is hard for Ary to keep track of time without any windows, but after what feels like a few hours later, she is approached by Jamal, this time accompanied by a sallow-skinned young man wearing long, dark roads. His eyes are sunken, with deep bags.
"This is a wizard of the Zexose Academy of the Arcane," Jamal introduces. "Salamah Benjelloun."
Unlike before, they came to her cell to meet her, rather than escorting her out to see them. "Salamah will put you into a trance, allowing your consciousness to enter the realm of dreams. This will allow you to reach out to your soldier, Xander, so that you can implore him to turn himself in to face justice."
"Once we receive confirmation Xander is in Rahadoumi custody, we will release you and the others. I trust that we still have your cooperation?" asks Jamal.
If Ary speaks in the affirmative, then Salamah gestures for her to sit on her bed. He sits next to her, and presses a hand into her shoulder. She feels the magic wash over her and lull her into the dreamspace.
After speaking to Theodora, Xander had decided to take a quick nap, that way he could be assured he had a fresh mind to prepare new spells in the morning when he could meet back up with Unafe and Valais.
Ary comes to as soon as Xander ends the dimension of dreams. Ary cannot see any part of Xander's dream, but she can clearly see Xander before her. Xander's motions are sluggish and blurred, like she is viewing him through thick glass, making it impossible for him to communicate with her. However, Xander can see and hear Ary perfectly clearly in the dream - her appearing quite literally as a glowing angel, floating several feet in the air in front of him.
Ary has all the time she wants to convey her message. What does she tell Xander?
While escaping, Xamder is still allowed the use of mental communication. He responds to Lavath's sendings as best as he could.
'Many apologies! A spur of the moment impulse took me. I will shortly rectify.'
'Heard and understood. Satisfaction will follow shortly.'
Once he reaches the privacy of his own room, kidnapped slave in tow, he hurls his iron staff to the ground. "Time out!" he shouts at it, "You finally decide to make a move, and it's to ruin a key negotiation? Very nice. Very very nice."[/'b]
He turns away from it to face the slave. He regards her for a few moments. [B]"I think you will have to go back," he says, reluctantly. "But... would you prefer rescue from bondage?"
"Mirabella, I do not believe that you were born to be a slave, and there are other gods that do not agree with the Dark Prince."
Unafe pauses and frowns. What can I do for this one? And for the...how many others suffer here? Why did Xander take us to this of all nations??
"Mirabella, you have helped us well. We will let Veronica know. I want to sleep now, but tell me: are you permitted to accept payment from me, that you will use for yourself and your family?"