Caedius loses himself in the eyes for a moment...

There is a discontinuity, a sensation like having briefly fallen asleep. There is significantly more greenery in the area, now... if, that is, it can truly be said to be green.

A leaf tickles his face, bringing with it an impulse to yawn. Whatever it was he was trying to focus on is gone without a trace.

The snake, for its part, seems slightly larger... and, perhaps, smugger?

"It's like that, if you managed to notice it. And my, that was a better memory than I had expected! In the spirit of our growing cooperation, then... I promise that, when I feed on your memories, I will only take those which you offer."

(Agreements of that sort are not retroactive, of course.)

"Now, to address your earlier questions... should you die out there in the Is, death will bring you to the River before too long, but here in the Is-Not, it is a mere suggestion. It can at times be an insistent suggestion, but one whose consequences will leave you inconvenienced and diminished rather than sent elsewhere. This has advantages and disadvantages. Notably, it is not possible for deliberate and concerted effort to instead destroy you, in ways that would be difficult in reality. Should you bargain unwisely, giving too much of yourself away for too little gain, or take risks repeatedly and suffer too many mortal wounds, while failing to attend to your deteriorating condition for too long, you may become too diminished to rebuild yourself, reduced to shadows, reflections, and memories, too broken to ever have much chance of coming back together. But should you learn the arts of this place, choose your hiding places wisely, and take time to recover yourself between great risks and exertions, it is possible to endure indefinitely. There are humans who have managed to remain in the Is-Not for a very long time."

"In terms of service, the uses I might have for you depend both on what you can do, and what you are not doing. For the former, reflections of many real occupations can be found in the Is-Not, so there is some chance of you doing something similar here as what you did there. For the latter, humans have plenty of capabilities that they do not use constantly. While sleeping, you may find that you have little use for your body... and even less so, should you mean to come here to stay."

Yawn. 

And the area is doing something weird... is the greenery growing? Along with the snake? That seems kind of surprising.

"There was something to notice, but it feels less like a hole in my memories than I expected. A calm forgetting, instead of a nagging one."

Whoops. He wanted to know what the memory was worth, to price others, but now his comparison point's gone. Anyway.

"That does still sound... better than Hell. Even if dangerous. Are there teachers or places of teaching, of those arts you mention?"

"I am a wizard by profession. It means that when I have access to the correct tools - scrolls of spells or a spellbook, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep - I can prepare spells of illusions, buffs, destruction, and various other purposes.

I'm unaware how the requirement for sleep will fare, out here. Nonetheless I would work for you, as a spellcaster, for the right price. I would consider renting my physical body, especially if I am to stay, but it would be important to ensure its safety. I am still not quite certain what attacked me and how I ended up here. I believe there was a minotaur, who went for my body."

"There are few places worse than Hell," agrees the Fingerking, "On that subject, I will note that devils have been known to visit parts of the Is-Not on occasion. They are not welcome guests, having betrayed my kind long ago, but ancient treaties permit some of their number limited access to certain areas."

"As to the arts needed to endure and thrive in the Is-Not, I myself have some relevant knowledge that I might share. More specialized instruction might be obtained in a variety of places, which notably include the Dome of Scales, the Castle of Forests, the Moonlit Chessboard, the Waswood, the Viric Jungle, the Sea of Spines, and the City of Arbor. To be clear, I am not welcome in all of those places, but should you prove valuable enough to me, it might be possible for me to arrange guidance and introductions sufficient for any of those. If your primary motivation is your own safety, I might recommend the Castle of Forests, an ancient stronghold of my kind. You might also find safety in Arbor, a walled city inhabited exclusively by the dreaming dead, though it might be difficult to negotiate entry. Alternatively, any of the rival powers which contest the Moonlit Chessboard might have a place for you, if you are comfortable making a war camp your home."

"There are indeed many who, like you, think to offer their bodies to my kind on a temporary basis. In your own case, I might caution that the logistics of such a bargain could prove impractical, depending on how easily repeated are the circumstances that led you here. As you did not come here on your own, it might not be possible for you to return on your own."

"One can contract with Hell but rarely be satisfied with the end result. I find the knowledge and warning useful. I would guess at difficult transit between here and my wakeful body, from what you say. So I will be careful, before offering again."

"I would willingly journey to the places you speak of, depending on our arrangements and the dangers. Currently I value safety, but it also exists in information and capability. And I would appreciate a respite, nonetheless."

"The places you mention do beg questions; do the dead dream as I, departed from their bodies? And how does one build a Castle of Forests?"

The fingerking is not interested in the spells or i playing its interest close to chest.

"Of my profession, I can demonstrate."

Light

A glowing light appears on his sleeve.

"This is the simplest kind of spell I can access. Power and complexity goes up hand in hand. Do you know if spellcasting is common here?" 

"Humans most commonly enter the Is-Not through dream, though generally in specific regions more amenable to their entry. The people of Arbor arranged to come here all at once, and they are indeed the inspiration for my suggestion to you. As for the Castle of Forests, it was made from ancient dreams of endless primeval forests, then shaped into defensive patterns by the dreams of architects and maze builders. From horizon to horizon, massive trees grow close enough together to resemble solid walls, surrounded by vicious hedges with poisoned thorns, laid out in patterns meant to entrap and mislead... and at the heart of it all, the Citadel of Vineyards, with its own layered defences."

The Fingerking examines the light thoughtfully.

"Magicians often associate with my kind, often coming to us for tutelage and inspiration. Illusionists and conjurers of minor talent are not uncommon, though true masters are naturally rarer. Still, it might be possible that there are some interesting differences between their arts and your own."

"Oh... so they didn't enter from death but their bodies died after entry?"

"Building castles out of dreams certainly sounds like an architectural challenge... and patterns out of architect dreams. Sounds solid enough for defensive purposes, though."

"With time and resources I could find out the differences.. I could demonstrate something more significant but then wouldn't have access to it until I can rest and re-prepare."

"Nonetheless, what shall we do next? I still desire safety as the first point; I would give you memories, if I have to, but I'd rather labor, if it would purchase protection."

"Correct. I understand that the dead usually find themselves drawn to other places."

"As for your own talents, no need to strain yourself just yet. The Castle of Forests is not nearby, and it might take some time to lead you there. If you are in a desperate hurry to become as safe as possible, I might bring you there far more quickly, were I better fed. Otherwise, we might as well begin that journey."

There is, and ever was, no going back. He needs to be careful with resources.

"Let's as well."

Caedius starts taking steps.. to somewhere. With something.. allied.

Meanwhile, in a locked room, of a locked castle, with locked minds, something resembling science and Investigation is attempted. Magic is detected, notes are made, expertise brought in with care and secrecy is utilized.

The investigation into the precise nature of whatever it is Mr Cards did earlier is not progressing as planned. It isn't detectably a magical effect, which is perhaps unsurprising, as Modify Memory also does not leave detectable traces. It might not be as flexible as Modify Memory, at least in the sense that they have yet to prove that any potentially affected person has any memories which contradict known facts. It might not be as powerful as Modify Memory, since definitely affected persons still retained some memory of encountering what was almost certainly Mr Cards. Of course, both of those theories might be false if Mr Cards somehow just has Modify Memory at will and deliberately left chosen details for some obscure purpose. It does seem to work on entire groups at a time, almost like a Mass Modify Memory, except that the details retained are different from person to person.

It's really quite confusing. The implications of the usage are also confusing - why did Cards decide to reveal the trait and to use it in this specific way? The surface level interpretation of it being a way to prove who really holds the cards, and a humiliation, is hardly enough.

The material investigations are simpler, to a degree.

The brass medallion appears to be the same kind of brass as the screws are, there's just more of it. Each sample is uncomfortably warm to human touch... and insistently remains warm regardless of environmental conditions, radiating a sourceless heat. It has a very faint magical aura, in the way that processed spellsilver does, though it neither is nor contains spellsilver. It is otherwise somewhat harder to process than more familiar Brass alloys, certainly having a much higher melting point, at a corresponding increase in strength. 

The steel bar is non-magical, and would be unremarkable, save for the fact that a blacksmith pulled from repairs to the investigation staff quickly notes it's of notably higher quality than the usual materials they get. Steel of this quality usually requires extensive working; the sort of thing a blacksmith might have their apprentices spend weeks working on, to produce the raw materials meant to go into masterwork or enchanted gear. But after that much work, the resulting metal would more commonly be used in whatever project required it, instead of being sold. And yet... this is a crude metal ingot, with a maker's stamp upon it. Given the term "Iron and Misery", they conclude that it must be the product of a great smithy, with hundreds of slaves working at all hours to improve the bare metal.

The so-called Rostygold is an alloy of copper and gold, heavy on the copper and light on the gold. It's not detectably magical, though for unclear reasons it's redder than it ought to be, and Prestidigitation isn't enough to get the blood smell off. Perhaps some trace impurity in the ore used locally?

The purple shards of Glim, in addition to being shockingly sharp, are barely magical in the same way the body parts of a significant magical creature would be. It seems like there will be use for them, but determining that use will require additional study.

The Strangling Willow Absinthe is, as previously noticed, barely intelligent, at a level that varies between "ordinary animal" and "what you get if you curse the cunning of an average commoner". It does not appear to be a magic item, but instead seems to be a living creature (or perhaps a collection of such creatures), and might possibly be classified as a type of Ooze? It's not mindless, which is unusual but not unprecedented for Oozes. Why someone would torture and bottle an Ooze for apparent consumption is unclear, but it's clearly a Hellish sort of cruelty.

The Amanita Sherry is easily as poisonous as Mr Cards had suggested; an shockingly strong and long-lasting ingested poison that drains the victim's constitution, and just keeps draining it, dealing damage of the sort that would require a Restoration to repair. A glass of the stuff, perhaps a sixth of the bottle, would likely kill any human in the fortress... provided they aren't in the habit of testing their drinks for poison and can't get a Neutralize Poison. The unfortunate former test subject described the taste as being quite pleasantly sweet, almost honey-like.

The results move into notes, and the notes move to the hands of the lead investigator, the First Arcane. And the lead investigator moves to make his report.

The Wizard makes himself present at the scheduled time, as the Commander exits the warded area for situation reporting.

Salute. "Sir! Preliminary findings."

"The brass. Permanently warm, faintly magical, stronger than any brass we work with. If it can be forged, it's weapons-grade. The steel is mundane but of a quality that takes our smiths weeks to achieve. It came as a raw stamped ingot — trade stock. Whoever is producing this has labor to burn."

"The copper-gold alloy smells of blood we can't clean off. The crystal shards are sharp enough to cut through leather and faintly magical. Both need further study before we know what they're worth to us."

"The absinthe is alive. Possibly an Ooze, bottled. The sherry is an ingested poison that hits constitution, hard. It tastes sweet."

He has to say the next part. Not saying it would be worse.

"The memory alteration. We can't detect it. We can't counter it. We don't know if it's magic. It hit multiple subjects at once with different effects on each. We haven't found false memories — only gaps. We don't know if that's all it can do."

He doesn't have more. He hopes it's enough.

"Acknowledged."

"Ensure the poison is under watch at all times."

"I will continue attending our guest. Figure out a countermeasure to the memory modification. And it's relevant details, as was your job already. Range, line of sight, does the power activate with gestures or verbals or neither."

"Our operation depends on every detail. You will figure out how to investigate competently."

Fear

"If you fail me again the experience that will follow will make you wish you were in Hell already."

"Go on. Back to work now."

Some mortals imagine that there is a kind of clarity, or even relief that comes in Hell. Free will, Chaos, incoherence stamped out. 

In theory Hell could make devils like that. Sometimes it does.

But Devils who will be sent to Golarion and interact regularly with mortals are limited significantly in capability by the intervention budget treaties.

There are sometimes innovative re-shapers of minds in Hell. At times they come up with good ideas that please Asmodeus. Like the separation of the experiencing and decisionmaking processes of an agent to a significant degree. You do not have to fix a mind to be Lawful if you can stamp a Lawful decisionmaking process on top. This allows leaving the valence-experiencing, muddled processes alone, or modifying them in sufferingmaximizing directions.

One such Devil is combing through minutiae about and borne from the contract under negotiation. It is painfully frustrated by the competence of this counterparty. And at the same time imagining the additional horrors in full resolution that await it for the amount of concessions that are already present in the contract.

“You would have the inter-Hell ownership and the Cheliax-Hell distribution of the trade assets clarified in the contract. This is nonstandard and costs us, what do you offer for it?”

After hours of contract negotiations, Mr Cards seems perfectly in their element. If they need rest, they show little sign of it; the only concession they've made to mortality was to set up an apparently self-heating pot of tea from their own voluminous personal supplies as Mordessa was leaving.

"It is a matter of high importance for there to be clarity as to the identity of all parties to the contract. Without such clarity, relevant individuals may claim to be parties to the contract, or not to be so, depending on which is more advantageous whenever the matter is pressed. Having such matters clarified in advance removes that problematic ambiguity, which might be considered an integral element to a contract for secrecy. The relevance of this detail is clear enough to me, especially as it seems inappropriate to permit relevant secret information to pass beyond the list of authorized individuals during the timeframe of the preliminary contract."

Such demands are hardly one-sided, of course; there's been a great deal of haggling over precise terms, often with agreements for certain goods or services added into the deal, such as the (by now already agreed upon) trade for the sample packs of items each side had previously introduced, or the terms regarding provided translation magic and library access.

"However, an agreement which does not extend suitable consideration to all parties involved constitutes a promise, not a contract. I agree that it would be appropriate to extend at least a token payment to each named individual who is to be bound by this contract, over and above the precise distribution of the bulk of the total payment."

From there, the question simply becomes how many notionally important devils Jacques is willing and authorized to bind to the contract (with the caveat that the precise distribution of spoils might be taken as a hint as to which of them are actually important), and how much Mr Cards will be obligated to pay for each name.

Already on the metaphorical table, of course, are trade volumes of assorted valuable materials (representative samples of any previously-unmentioned item are literally on the table for inspection, a safe distance from any paperwork), including sapphires, 'venom-rubies', and pearls (these last being visibly magical in a way Cards doesn't even bother to mention, reflecting light so as to mirror the local moon's current phase instead of naturally), tokens of amber and jade, ingots of brass and steel, less-regular piles of ivory and glim, visibly glowing feathers (in burning red and glimmering blue), lead plaques marked with various Correspondence sigils, jarred Shrieks and Screams, not to mention improbable quantities of bone, fabric, and wine. Having been tipped off to the value of diamonds earlier, they are appropriately cautious about offering too many of those. Still, the previously-offered diamonds are already there, and at the rate they're willing to make concessions with those, it seems clear that Cards has at least several dozen mid-grade diamonds in reserve (of between Raise Dead and Resurrection quality).

Beyond that, Mr Cards offers to make payments in a variety of currencies of diverse value, though they anticipate that Hell is unlikely to be interested in paper currencies, though they're certainly on offer if this impression is mistaken, with example specimens provided of the Dollar, Echo, Franc, Piastre, Pound, and Scrip (unusual among the named currencies; Jacques will immediately notice that it is a brief legal document which can apparently be redeemed as a right to develop new buildings on a parcel of unused land that falls under the authority of the 'Ministry of Upper River Development'). Metallic currencies are presumed to be of more definite use even away from their home economy; copper Pennies and Stuivers, silver Cedars, Claws, and Shillings, gold-alloy Möngös, Tögrög, or the previously-presented Rostygold Rings, or even exotic seven-sided Justificandes (overtly magical, as coins generally only have two sides).

The phrasing of the suggestion is suggestive of something going on. What game is Cards playing now?

"It is true that even though ambiguity pleases me and my masters, in a secrecy contract for a security matter it can be argued to be harmful to each party's interest."

"Due to natural constraints from the secrecy level, Hell's named signatirues for the preliminary agreement will be limited in count. It will consist of an operational devil, his relevant intelligence staff, a dozen or so. And me and the honored commander."

Cursory inspection of the presented range of items, and an intrigued read of rhe scrip.

"These apparent land documents are of interest to us. Otherwise, do you recommend a specific item of payment? If we eventually are able to diplomatically visit London, will the local trading company be sufficiently acquainted with such a breadth of payment methods?"

"And why does this coin have seven sides? I can imagine a wizard who would build such a currency but they are not usually bankers, for a reason."

"Understandable."

(In other words, by the terms of the contract, this is to be a deal where information will be temporarily shared with a limited compartmentalized group from a Hellish intelligence organization, and not with Asmodeus himself; that part will come later, if and when such a deal is determined to be worthy of his time. Though a variety of tricks might be attempted in a negotiation such as this as a matter of course, there's no point in attempting any major play against rank-and-file devils. The best tricks only work once, after all.)

Mr. Cards takes a minute to confirm the names in question, and write them down, before continuing on smoothly.

"I have access to some quantity of the construction permits issued by the Ministry of Upper River Development, more commonly known as 'Hinterland Scrip'. It would certainly not strain my resources to offer one such permit to each named party. Such documents are naturally of most value in the region of the Upper River, consisting of those territories and settlements between the city of London and the lands claimed by Hell, in which they may be used for their stated purpose, or as an unofficial currency exchangeable for items of particular value."

They allow a slight hint of annoyance to creep into their voice in response to the implied slight.

"As for the 'local trading company', I am one of the Masters of the Bazaar. The Echo Bazaar employs a host of merchants, qualified to trade or exchange nearly every currency or item I have presented. Any exceptions to that condition may be considered to fall under my own remit, and I expect to be willing to make an offer for any meaningful quantity of unwanted goods, should it come to that. More generally, however, I will again mention a subject I brought up to the commander earlier; nearly every legal commercial transaction which takes place in London involves the Echo. If your primary interest is in obtaining currency that may be used for activities and purchases in London, the Echo will suffice. The other currencies on offer are of greater value in domains beyond London's authority, most notably including within the territory of those nations which issue them."

On examination, the seven sides of the Justificande show a tall pillared structure rising from the sea, a garland of roses, the head of a serpent, a vicious barbed hook, an unfamiliar stringed instrument, a veiled figure of indeterminate gender, and a complex pattern of twisting lines. The pattern continues to form an intertwining border around each face, such that each face of the coin features exactly one serpent's head (as if the lines were all serpents?), though only in one of the seven is that head in artistic focus. In each other face the lines originate as the shadows of the pillars, or the trailing stems of the roses, or the twisted threads of a fishing line attached to the hook, or the strings of the instrument, or loose threads dangling from the veil. The geometry of this is of course impossible, but one might manipulate the coin to arrive at a desired face by following an individual thread across the coin's edge.

When questioned about the Justificande, Mr. Cards pauses for an unusual length of time before responding, pulling out another such coin to carefully flip, revealing all seven faces in turn. Their voice changes as they speak, lowering slightly to become a strange, almost rhythmic chant.

"You will learn of the Justificande, the seven-faced coin. It will issue forth from Irem, the Pillared City. She will rise from the zee and the ice like dawn. She will be garlanded with red and decked with gold. She will be a city of riddles, of destiny, of prophecy. She will mint a currency, that a debt shall be repaid. Her coin will have seven faces to mirror the Seven-Serpent."

They stop, and pause to clear their throat, returning to their customary high tones, "It is commonly said that none have ever spoken truthfully of that place. I will claim that true statements regarding Irem shall be expressed in the future tense by those who will travel there."

Nod after the explanation of the scrip and the trading, the situation is clearer.

"We would obtain one instance of scrip and the rest as assortments of currency and other inventory. It would be useful to be able to utilize elsewheres local currency.  We will move forward with the contract once the assortments are acceptable."

Perceptive gazing as the demonstration.

This does sound like something Geryon could do. But is it something He would do?

"Who is the Seven-Serpent? There are some more or less snakely gods and being who walk the various planes. In the case where she set up all of that, we would expect Her to be a god."

"Understood."

Some haggling follows. Alongside the general resource offerings, Mr. Cards is more than willing to facilitate arrangements to provide sufficient spending money to allow Hell and/or Cheliax to fund modest diplomatic (or infiltration) teams, not just to London, but also to surface England, France, Italy, and the United States, as well as the Court of the Wakeful Eye, Hallow's Throat, the Khanate, and the Presbyterate. Of course, if they're providing enough funding to allow for all of that, they'll want an increased amount of local currency in exchange, to permit additional shopping.

In facilitating this, Mr. Cards is more than willing to entertain helpful digressions on exchange rates and pricing of goods, peppering in relevant details collected from their own networks. The information isn't quite free, as they do have some basic questions regarding prices in Cheliax / Golarion, but they present as being helpful and cooperative at least to the degree that it's in their interests to do so.

(Amidst the many exhausting details and assorted sums being moved back and forth, a tired or fallible negotiator might miss the fact that Mr. Cards has entirely failed to mention what city or polity the 500 silver Cedars are associated with, despite notionally charging for them as they would for funding any of the other teams. It's just one line item among many, after all, and the Mithridatic pressure of so many irrelevant details makes it easy for a less-canny negotiator to miss it in the confusion. This is the sort of move Mr. Cards has occasionally made thus far as a minor test of Jacques' abilities, diligence, and patience, and they already know just what they'll do if called on it.)

(The real trick here, of course, is that there are some things money simply can't buy. It hardly matters what the price of tea is in the Nephrite Quarter if one is not permitted to enter it without the appropriate documentation, after all. The Khanate and the Presbyterate each have ruthlessly efficient security services and starkly limited visitation rights to foreigners, and uninvited visitors entering the territory of the Court of the Wakeful Eye simply get killed and eaten by tigers. No, you need connections to get anywhere with a mission to such groups, and not only is Mr. Cards not providing that service at this time, they've deliberately neglected even hinting at the requirement.)

As for the Seven-Serpent...

"A complicated question, one seemingly entangled with many deep mysteries, ancient history, unfulfilled prophecy, and the secrets of Hell and Parabola. I have my suspicions, and will speak more of them after the contract is signed."