That's better! 

Now he just needs to keep that state of mind for the rest of the hour, and keep praying.

Now that he's gotten a positive-feeling response, he finds it much easier to keep praying.

His thoughts keep straying back to war on one hand, and immortality on the other.  If Asmodeus can put him in a place where he'll find victory in war... though getting that from Asmodeus would probably involve getting on the other side of the war, and he doesn't know what that would mean.  And if the gift of immortality is on offer... he definitely yearns for it.

More immediately, though, he definitely wants some magic.  Even more specifically, a language spell.  And if there's other useful magic he doesn't know about that won't hurt him or people he isn't meaning to hurt, he'll happily accept that too.

Then he can have two spells for understanding people for ten minutes! And a spell for making himself twice as tall and eight times as heavy for one minute. He can also, separately, make himself much stronger or deal a little bit more damage for a few seconds.

(Technically he can also do all these things for other people instead, but why would you do things for other people?)

Oh, sometimes doing things for other people can be useful - you can get them to do things for you!

Hmm, he didn't use a sun necklace, or his own star emblem, like Wanda did with her shellfish...  The closest thing to an emblem of Morgoth that he can think of is a dragon, or a black square, but even so those wouldn't be emblems of Asmodeus.  Is he getting any sense there?  It's not like he's going to show it to everyone, but it might be useful.

The beetle that was crawling up his leg has reached his chest while he prayed, and nestles there fat and contented. It fans its wings for a few moments to cool itself, making a slight noise.

Pharazon might be getting more of a sense of being watched than is normal for insects.

Oh, a beetle.

Like Manwe has eagles, Asmodeus has beetles?  Maybe?

... Now he shouldn't go telling anyone about beetles, of course, because presumably the people around here know Asmodeus likes beetles, and perhaps Miriel's heard it already.  But he should definitely go using his new spell and... maybe not tell anyone who it comes from.  

... If that's something he can get by without saying.

Well, he might as well ask; presumably Asmodeus has dealt with this question before?  "Do you have any suggestions about working in secret like that?"

Answering mortals is really expensive. Figure it out yourself, little king.

Pharazon goes back to the inn, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who might be helpful to talk to.  Ideally someone who isn't that messenger, though.

But he ends up nodding to Miriel.  "I guess I'll be praying after all."

"Someone gave me some more of that translation magic, I think."

This's almost everything she's been hoping for!

"Who!?  And what did you say!?  And --"  She's lost for any more specific words than "did you rethink your entire life" which probably wouldn't go well.

"I don't know who.  But whoever it is, it's someone who doesn't mind my plans to try to make something of myself here."

... On second thought, he should try to make his plans sound a little more like something the good Valar would endorse.  How about what he was thinking before he heard from Asmodeus on the other side...  "There was room for Balan and Haldad to make something of themselves in the Siege of Angband, after all, and I'm pretty sure I'm better trained than they were."

... That isn't wrong.  At all.  Though she would've thought hearing from the Valar would've changed him more.

"You're right.  Did you feel any presence?"

"Yes, but I can't identify it like you could."

He shrugs, and looks for someone who'd be useful to talk with using his translation magic...

There's the innkeeper, the postman, the four armed young men from the city, all the townspeople... 

Wanda is also out and about and is talking animatedly to two of the non-dwarf short people.

Not Wanda; he feels it'll be less dangerous to start with someone who isn't already getting magic from the Valar.

So, he walks up to those armed young men.  He nods in greeting, and says what he's pretty sure is "Hello" in Taldane - at least, the common greeting he's heard from most everyone around here.

And then, if they aren't acting unfriendly, he... moves his hands the way that comes naturally to him in terms of new translation-magic-associated reflexes.

Oooh, an exotic-rich-looking swordsman mage! That is: a fellow adventurer!!

"Well met! I am Orlando Caladri, of the White Gulls. And these are Luca, Nicola Fiesi and Anton Paler."

("I still think Hawks is better," Anton grumbles sotto voce.)

"Pharazon."  He points to himself.  And then he points to them.  "Andoran?"

"We're Andoren", Orlando corrects his pronunciation. "And you?"

Communication!

"Numenorian."

They look at each other.

"Is that... in Casmaron?" asks Anton. (It's pretty clear he's guessing.)

Pharazon holds out his hands and shrugs.  He doesn't know where Casmaron is, and he'd rather not say he's from a different world until he has some better idea of how to keep his secret about Asmodeus.  "In Numenor - magic - in Andoran."

"You teleported to Andoran?"

    "If he were a teleport wizard he'd know if he came from Casmaron or not," Anton says firmly.

"Someone else teleported you to Andoran?" Orlando amends. "And now you're on a quest looking for a way home?"

    "Andoran is a good place to be," Luca objects.

"Says someone who's never been out of it."

Pharazon nods to Orlando's first question.  "Someone else.  I not know who, not know place."