Phlagantres's page

Given the names of the Hellknights in question, the huge devil rattles of a long stream of numbers to some of the nearby imps. They flap off to who-knows-where and arrive back a half-hour later with copies the requested documents.

Gellius Thrune’s contract is especially ornate, and covered in gold leaf. Its core agreement is fairly straightforward: Gellius exchanged his soul for extensive legal advice and direct assistance in defending House Thrune against slanderous attacks.

The Hellknights’ contracts include two different sets of documents both signed by the Hellknight Staebius Kalmp. The first damns his soul to Hell in exchange for the physical strength with which to subdue the untamed wilds. The second forgives the debt of his soul in exchange for the souls of his four subordinates, recognized by the contract’s author as the signer’s property.

The contracts that Atum's familiar liberated from the mountains of paper will take a couple of hours to pour through, and will require a Linguistics or Profession (barrister or merchant) check.

At this point the party has used up 12 of their 48 hours and their caged imp is getting bored.

Chandu will take the book and give it a go, after all what else can go wrong in here.

Jair offers up a prayer to the Reaper of Reputations and then slips away.

Zarta casts a spell of heroism upon the woman. "You can do this." she whispers in Chandu's ear.

Chandu sets the huge book down on the cold tile floor and flips to a random page. She begins to read....

{Censored} Imagine the most horrific book or movie scene involving body mutilation that you have ever experienced--it's worse than that. It is the tale of devil who's job it is to execute angels in the longest most painful and degrading ways possible, render in text so graphic it makes Chandu want to feel sick. It is damaging to her psyche.

And she will never look at pomegranates the same way again.

Somehow she makes it through the passage.

Phlagantres telekinetically yanks the book away before Chandu's common sense returns and she burns the thing.

"Well, perhaps I can help you after all." says the huge devil not looking at all happy about the prospects. "What precisely were you looking for?"

Oh, dear, Leona mentally sighs. She's decidedly frustrated by the way this particular realm works and complication after complication made her want to just up and stab someone. She wasn't even the type of person to stabbings!

"Doktor Zuess?" she pauses. "That... that sounds familiar." Wasn't there some sort of bard by that name in their realm? Perhaps they're related?

"However, I happen to know a text we could use that is in." He reaches out a short stout arm and telekinetically calls a large tome his hand a book whose cover is scaled as if with sharks’ teeth. He hands the three-square-foot, twelve-inch-thick tome down to Leona. "Go ahead. Open it up, read a passage aloud. The text will change to fit your mortal languages. The book is called Upon the Razor’s Sigh I've been reading it in my off time. It is the biography of the famous angel-executioner, Shyakurl. See if you can read that. Heheh."

Even without a detect spell the huge book feels ominous.

Does anyone feel up to reading it? You can tell a challenging fortitude saving throw is involved.

Chandu rgards the corpulent blob. You seem t be well informed, even for a powerful devil in Hell. Are you familiar with Leventi? As I am sure you are aware he is currently under investigation. It may improve your position to co-operate with that investigation. The contracts for Madras and his companions are part of that invesitgation...

"I tell you imps, it is uncanny. Just like real beings." He bellows to the clerks. "Listen child, even if Mr. Leventi were under investigation, I would hardly imagine that the investigators in question would resort to the use of trained mortals to sniff out clues. Now be a good dear, and go play elsewhere." Phlagantres reaches forward to pat Chandu on the head.

Yes, Overseer, it will be of great honor and I'm sure particularly lawful to help us in this case. You don't want to be associated with someone who clearly tries to cheat without talent some soul, isn't it?

"Yes, very precocious. It's like you almost know what those words mean. So precocious."

"There, there. One day, (millennia from now) you might grow up to be a devil yourself, and when you do, you will understand."

He leans back and his chair makes a comfortable leather squelching sound.

Zarta holds forth a femur scroll case, and using mage hand levitates it up to Phlagantres. The devil uncorks it and pulls out the rolled up paperwork within. He takes a moment to look it over and then shoves it back. Zarta draws macabre scroll tube back to her hand, and puts it away.

"That only proves that this Osyluth, Vetrivides, is more of fool than I thought." snaps the devil. "I have already told your friend here that you cannot handle the truth. Anything that I bring you to read would only leave you more imbecilic than you already are. Perhaps a test--Imps!"

A few of the tiny devils fly over to attend the house-sized fiend, like little oxpecker birds swarming about a hippo.

"Is there anything by Doktor Zuess about?"

"How adorable!" booms the fat devil to a swarm of imp clerks flapping about several small mountains of disorganized contracts out in the main gallery. They all stop to hover and look up. "She asked just like a real being. She's so precocious."

The imps snicker and then go back to their work. Even Tholvinus snickers a bit from his cage.

Phlagantres leans ponderously forward over his twenty-foot-high counter to look down upon Leona "Child, you come seeking the truth that all you mortals profess to want, but the fact is you can't handle the truth. You like your lies too much to be persuaded by it. You need them to prop up your egg-shell-thin view of reality. Fabrication makes you comfortable. But there is no place for that sort of self-deceit and moral-cowardice in Hell. Why were I to give you what you ask for, it would no doubt irrecoverably damage your frail mortal psyche, and what sort of monster would that make me then? Hmm? No, I couldn't. My conscience would not allow it. Now if you like, little girl, I would gladly direct you to the 'special needs' section of our library."

"This all seems to be something of a mess to me," Leona says, frowning at the section of the scroll she'd been trying to discern. "I can see I'm of no help here, but perhaps the library will have something?"

She grimaces again at the scroll. "Or has anyone else found usething of use?"

Well Atum discovered the Hell Knights have somehow unjustly ended up in Hell (see above).

If answered with an affirmative, she'll listen attentively to the findings, but if everyone's in as terrible a spot as she - or near as bad, anyhow - she'll try heading to the library vault.

At the Requests Counter.

"Heheh. Can I help you mortal?" says the immensely fat devil from his floating throne. His chuckle gives away his amusement. The creature is as big as a hovel. Impossibly corpulent, it floats several feet off the ground. Trappings cut in mockery of holy vestments do little to cover the thing’s pallid, leaking rolls of blister-pocked girth. Worthless, club-like hands waggle like maggots, directing a cloud of weathered scrolls and blasphemous tomes that orbit its bulk. Barely distinguishable amid its mound of chins squints a pair of glassy black eyes, riding above a disproportionately wide mouth curled into a perpetually lecherous grin. "But of course I can. I mean, look at you. So tiny and fragile. Heheh."

"Know that you have the honor of speaking with Phlagantres, Overseer of Public Requests." His chair does a pirouette behind his counter, showing off his grandeur.

Baaaack! Thanks for your patience, everyone! c:

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