083: You'll think I'm dead, but I'll sail away

[Sierra]

<@Steph>  "I just thought it was odd," muses Stephanie, joining Vanessa and speaking quietly. She points towards the blasted wasteland. "I mean, there's all the screaming, and all this carnage taking place behind closed doors. You're just a mortal, so the things out there will treat you like a fly. Given all that, seeing you talk about... decorum? That's important to you, important enough to put on
<@Steph> airs about?" Stephanie's lips twist. "I think it's a marvel, I really do. Being able to maintain your composure here is something that takes... something. A great deal of something. I just want to know what it was, why, that sort of thing."
<Franceska> "How about you call for my companions?" Franceska suggests. "I don't expect a betrayal from them on this front."
<El-Cideon> "You adjust to it in time," Vanessa says levelly. "Besides, I couldn't go back home." She looks up as a service bell rings. "Excuse me," she says, disappearing back upstairs for a moment to return and beckon everyone to fall her into Derek's study. "Franceska has it in mind to involve you all in a scheme," Derek says without preamble.
<Julia> Julia merely looks expectantly at Franceska.
<@Steph> "I am shocked! Shocked, I tell you."
<El-Cideon> "I'm sure it's thoroughly out of character," Derek adds drily.
<Franceska> "Some devil is in possession of my father's soul and it is my desire to find it and then purchase it back."
<El-Cideon> "That is very selfless and heroic, Franceska," Rosemund observes encouragingly.
<@Steph> "We should rob them instead!"
<Franceska> "The manner doesn't really matter to me. First, however, we must locate it."
<El-Cideon> Derek shakes his head. "Without a legal purchase, the transference of ownership means nothing in this case."
<Julia> "What could we pay with?" Julia asks, unsure what the exchange rate on such things is.
<@Steph> "That's bullshit!" Stephanie frowns. "Are purchases signed under duress legal?"
<Franceska> "Ah, is that so? I suppose you really do learn something new each day."
<Franceska> At Julia's question, she shrugs. "Money is still a factor. It is merely that souls are another currency. In that case, there must be an exchange rate. Also, duress can be provided as needed."
<El-Cideon> "It's rather a grey area," Derek says to Stephanie. "Intimidation and blackmail are perfectly routine methods of carrying out infernal business, however." He nods to Franceska. "As for locating the contract...all such things are tracked, somewhere."
* Franceska looks expectantly at Masuko.
<@Steph> "Well, you're a bureaucrat," points out Stephanie, peering at Derek.
<El-Cideon> "I am, but I have little grounds to bargain for it myself. They already have what they want from me," he explains. At Fran's look, Masuko answers, "The Labyrinth of Truths maintains open files on all mortals whose fate is bound to Baator. We should be able to find what you need there. For a price, of course, but I should hardly need to say that anymore."
<Franceska> "Of course. How soon can the appropriate inquiries be made without showing our hand?"
<El-Cideon> He shrugs. "We have no immediate appointments in the city. I can arrange transport soon enough if the diversion is truly necessary." He sounds as though he doesn't think it is.
<Franceska> "Then let's make this happen as swiftly as possible."
<El-Cideon> Masuko frowns, but relents. "I shall make arrangements at the temple when our business here is concluded, then," he says.
* Franceska nods, and then glances at her father. "Is there anything else we must know about the situation?"
<El-Cideon> Derek eventually shakes his head. "I suppose not," he says simply.
<El-Cideon> You're left alone in your barren dormitories back at the temple as Masuko goes about acquiring transportation to the infernal offices. If there's anything to say in private before leaving, now's the time! For his own part, Masuko made it no secret on the way back that he considers the affair an unnecessary distraction that does not further the team's mission in any way.
<Franceska> So long as it doesn't hinder the mission, either, Franceska has no problem with Masuko earning an extra commission for this distraction and politely points it out.
<@Steph> "So tell us!" Stephanie says, lying on the floor and peering at the ceiling.
<Julia> "Yes, it seems that you've reconciled then?" Julia prods.
<Franceska> "The facts of the matter are that my father sold his soul to try and rescue me, and then decided that I was better off in Solata than in Hell. I can understand his reasoning and cannot help but try to help in turn."
<Julia> "Makes sense," Julia agrees.
<Franceska> "I have a very simple plan. Once the soul is located, I will use my magic to shift into a devil of sufficient status and claim to be visiting from some unspecified, remote part of Hell. Then, I will see about buying it as an equal rather than a supplicant."
<El-Cideon> "Er, you can do that sort of thing now, Franceska?" Rosemund asks worriedly. "It had better be only temporary!"
<Franceska> "I think I can. Now that I am here and surrounded by them, I've worked out all those tiny differences that would have otherwise given me away."
<Julia> "That does seem straightforward enough. If you like I could bind some devils to act as your retinue for further versimilitude?" Julia offers.
<Franceska> "That would add extra authenticity, yes, and I presume I could count on you all to pretend to be my retinue and then help me leave should negotiations fail?"
<@Steph> "Sounds like a plan," replies Stephanie, sounding bored. "Can we go easy on the non-cosmetic infernalism?"
<El-Cideon> The next day, Masuko leads the party to a hanging spur of rusted metal that looks out over the edge of the city onto the endless swampy expanse of Minauros. Today's precipitation is merely a cold drizzle. A beast of burden sits on a landing platform here, some sub-intelligent relation of dragons, monstrous and deformed. The slavering drake growls irritably as it's loaded up with bales of official documents for transport. "It's not unheard of for mortals to visit the Labyrinth," Masuko explains while you wait to board, "but nor is it regular. You may depend upon it that everyone we interact with will expect a bribe. Fortunately, it is not a prestigious posting; most of the devils we will encounter should be lesser varieties and failures, so we should have less trouble than usual letting gold suffice for commerce."
<Franceska> "Is it an actual labyrinth?" Franceska simply has to ask. "Can you get lost in there?"
<@Steph> "The true labyrinth is the moral labyrinth all mortals who venture here must tread," drawls Stephanie, today sporting a wide-brimmed hat that keeps the rain off.
* Franceska keeps the hood of her cloak up and over her crown to deal with the weather.
<Julia> Julia just has her hood up, though she misses having Battersby to keep the rain off. "What sort of bribe is typical?" she asks.
<El-Cideon> "I've never had personal cause to visit," Masuko says with a shrug. "But one can imagine that the cumulative maneuverings of Baator account for a veritable maze of paperwork indeed. If there is anyone else at all whose fate you have cause to untangle in the nine hells, I would suggest you tend to all such pursuits in this one visit."
<Franceska> "Even if she might be dead?"
<@Steph> Stephanie perks up at the remark. "Oh, good point!"
<El-Cideon> "That depends on their station," he says to Julia. "With mere clerks we can be sparing. Administrators would expect to be spoiled, however."
<Franceska> "Looking into my mother and Jill Cook would be pertinent as well," Franceska muses. "Anyone else?"
<@Steph> "Whatshisface. That guy. That guy from Arborea," says Stephanie, after a moment. "Morgan?"
<Julia> "I don't have any friends or relations stuck in hell," Julia says with a happy smile.
<El-Cideon> "Phibous suggested we should try and find one of those villains Galina's group struck down," Rosemund points out. "Would they not have files here too, if they actively worked with the devils during the war?"
<Franceska> "In this case, is it better if we do it all at once?"
<@Steph> "Yeah, you'd think they group the collaborators together! Under extraplanar acquisitions, I guess?"
<El-Cideon> "You have quite the list of associates in Baator, it seems," Masuko observes without particular judgement. "That's just as well. It diminishes the obvious significance of any one soul you might see. Obvious personal connections can only be perceived as something to be exploited here."
<Franceska> "Of course."
<@Steph> "And we don't actually like most of them, honest."
<El-Cideon> Soon enough you board the great beast and are off. At the crack of a devil's whip, it launches itself off the ledge and hurtles down toward the swamp. It's a good thing that you're strapped securely in, because it barrels forth with no concern whatsoever for the comfort of its riders. There's no escaping the rain as you descend--umbrella or no, the beast's forward progress ensures you'll get well soaked. In time--more than you'd like, given the weather--a looming shape grows on the horizon. It's a tower, a weathered stone fortress leaning somewhat drunkenly to the left. Even as you watch, an army of laborers works to try shore up the foundations against the endless mire of Minauros. Eventually, your mount swoops into a hangar abutting the front walk of the building. From ground level, the structure is almost unbelievably immense--you could probably fit mortal cities within.
<@Steph> Stephanie isn't sure why she allowed this to happen to her when she could've just flown alongside it! But standing out around here is probably bad, she supposed, even as she shakes out loose particles of water from her tail and hair. "Devils think big," she observes, dourly.
<Julia> "I wish I'd brought some snacks along," Julia says remorsefully as the enormity of the building dawns on her. This could take days!
<Franceska> "Perhaps we should bribe someone right away and secure ourselves a guide?"
<@Steph> "I suppose we should assign a budget for this. If only we could secure someone to pay our bribes for us. Like a rich local, with fingers in the infernal bank."
<Franceska> "Increments of five thousand, up to twenty thousand gold total," Franceska muses. "What do you think, Masuko?"
<El-Cideon> "I think so," Masuko nods in agreement. "Let his greed for our continued patronage serve to ward off the attentions of his rivals." He leads the way through the yawning gates of the library; lesser devils bent double precede you under the weight of tremendous boxes of paper. Immediately within is a great atrium with a baffling array of doors and side corridors branching off every which way. At a raised desk sits a peevish-looking male erinyes in dusty robes, carefully logging everything brought his way. By the door, a gang of bearded devils eyes the mortal arrivals with rather predatory interest.
<El-Cideon> "I think that should do," Masuko agrees.
<@Steph> There are so many things to kill here that every step Stephanie takes is followed by a brief scan of her surroundings, just in case anything suddenly leaps at them or needs to be leaped at.
<Julia> "Hello," Julia smiles and walks up to the erinyes. "We're looking for someone to help assist us in locating the deposition of several souls we believe are bound here. Would you be able to help us or point us to a guide?"
<El-Cideon> He looks down at you from his post and sniffs haughtily, "I am in a position to facilitate this request, for sufficiently *polite* visitors. I should see that you are not common rabble first, of course. The labyrinth can prove very perplexing to the cheaply guided."
<Julia> "Of course, of course. Perish the thought!" Julia says. Though unfortunately she's not skilled in giving bribes, and anyway it's rather too much money to just pass along via a handshake, so she just starts grabbing handfuls of platinum out of her bag and shovelling them on the desk in front of him until she's stacked up five thousand golds worth. Or been interrupted.
<Franceska> Well then. It's a good thing she hadn't talked. Instead, Franceska remains silently haughty.
<El-Cideon> He nods dutifully and proceeds with an air of boredom. "Are the individuals in question living or deceased?"
<Julia> "Half and half I'd say," Julia replies, pleased the bribe was taken without any fuss.
<Julia> "Oh, and can I get a receipt?" she asks, remembering their conversation from just before they came in.
<El-Cideon> "Hmph," the devil sniffs at this extra effort. He writes something down in his logbook, and then presents Julia with a scrip that notes Entry Fee Paid. "Souls already secured to our holding through death of the mortal shell have their exploits archived on the lower floors. I shall need to request location of the specific records. Names?"
<Julia> Julia happily takes the receipt and then makes way for the people with loved ones here.
<@Steph> "Amongst the dead? Connor Creel," says Stephanie, after a moment. "Connor Creel and Simon Beneventia." The others, she expects, won't be found down here.
<Franceska> "Sandra Durant," Franceska adds, studying the others if they have more to add.
<@Steph> "And amongst the living, we're looking for records on Jill Cook, Morgan Rainfield, and Derek Bailey."
<El-Cideon> He snaps his fingers, and a dour-looking female erinyes steps away from cataloguing something to approach. She's just as shabbily dressed and looks equally unhappy with her duties. "Bailey, Derek; Cook, Jill; Rainfield, Morgan," the head clerk rattles off at her. "Files requested. Take the mortals to a reading room and return them to me once their immediate research is concluded. I will need to request archives access." The female erinyes nods stiffly. "Follow me," she says, without much charm or enthusiasm.
<Franceska> Just how does one end up with a posting like this? Is it for all of eternity?
<Julia> Julia cheerfully follows with a spring in her step. It's oddly comforting to see the sort of devils usually considered glamourous doing dull drudge work like anyone else.
<@Steph> Stephanie is somewhat surprised at the lack of infernal arrogance, though it does brighten her smile and allows her to relax her guard.
<El-Cideon> She turns on her heel and strides down one corridor of many; the desk clerk goes back to logging the endless influx of paperwork from outside. Your guide takes you to a storage hall where shelves heavy with parchment rise almost beyond sight; though seemingly well-organized, mortal standards of cleanliness are less well-observed. Rains of dust occasionally filter down from above as imps takes folder off of shelves. The erinyes commandeers a small group of imps to seek out the requested documents and then takes you to an enclosed study. While you wait, she says with something of a conversational air, "Are these friends of yours?"
<@Steph> "Sure, why not."
* Franceska just looks amused at the very question.
<Julia> "Well, they're of some interest otherwise we wouldn't be bothering, but friend is a very strong word," Julia says pleasantly.
<El-Cideon> She apparently takes Stephanie's flippant response as a refusal to humor her and addresses Julia instead. "Yes, it is," she acknowledges with a recognition of wisdom.
<Julia> Julia's happy to humour what's no doubt an extremely bored clerical worker and so elaborates. "We've only actually met Mr Rainfield in person, but all of them are interesting in their own way, if only by repute."
<El-Cideon> If she's at all familiar with the reputation of the two mortals resident in Minauros, she doesn't acknowledge it. "A curious thing to come all this way for strangers," she observes casually.
<Julia> Rather than continue on this potentially incriminating topic, Julia attempts to change the subject to something more diverting. "Really it's not such a bad trip. Even with the rain, did you know we once went to the Abyss? Ugh, a more foul place I can hardly think of! And the rain! It was like drippings off the worlds biggest and smelliest frying pan!"
<El-Cideon> "I hope that you made everyone you met there regret your passing," she says approvingly.
<@Steph> "It's what we do in general."
<Julia> "Oh yes, it just puts you in a rotten mood so you can't help but take it out on everyone you meet," Julia nods agreeably. "Also they're so uncivilised there you can just kill anyone you like and no one even cares. Well, not until you go after them anyway."
<Franceska> "Not that it helped them either way."
<El-Cideon> Enthusing about the awfulness of the Abyss and its residents seems to distract her from making any more personal inquiries. Eventually, the flurry of imps wings back in with the requested files. The erinyes looks them over to confirm names and then sets them on the table. "Peruse as you like," she says, taking up station by the door, "but I cannot allow you to take any files from this room."
<@Steph> Stephanie walks over to look at Jill Cook's file, first on foremost.
<Franceska> With that file taken, Franceska waves Masuko over to her father's file so that they could peruse it together.
<Julia> Julia has a look at Morgan's so as not to feel left out.
<El-Cideon> It's a good thing Stephanie picked up a lot of languages, because everything you read herein is written in Infernal. Jill's file initially contains a host of old war dispatches tacked together, in which she is consistently referred to in adversarial fashion for having countered such-and-such infernal offensive or scheme based in Solata. There is nothing for the couple years postdating the cessation of hostilities on the Material plane, then a notice in gracefully feminine hand notes the donation of the mortal Jill Cook as tribute to the lord of Minauros. From here an itemized timetable of formal corruption procedures takes hold: subject remanded to Iron Horse Punishment Hall for "rehabilitation." An extensive list of interrogative procedures is outlined in visceral detail over the course of several years. The series concludes with the following statement: "Subject deemed refractory. Sold on open market to offset loss." There is a copy of a bill of sale denoting the transmission of ownership to Krae Nalus in exchange for a considerable collection of lesser souls. The file has nothing to communicate about the next several years; then it picks up to outline over the course of the last decade military records relating in dry detail her participation in a long series of successful campaigns against Abyssal forces. Whatever the sources of information the library has, there is little information to communicate about the circumstances of her personal life since entering the cornugon's household.
<El-Cideon> Derek's file is extensive, and includes first and foremost a considerable collection of personal dispatches written to his handlers during the war. There is a lot of information about Amaranth's finances during the war and records of city funds siphoned off to support infernal operations. There are also copies of handwritten notes relaying extensive blackmail material on Solati officialls, officers and nobles. After the war, property records from Jangling Hiter appear. The ownership of his actual soul is a lengthy process to trace--it seems that notable souls are traded as frequently among the baatezu as a bottle of wine at a party. It changes hands a myriad number of times over the course of two decades, eventually settling into the ownership of one Falk Morazul, position: gelugon, residence: Jangling Hiter. Current observations on the subject cite "relationship with house servant" as most viable means of manipulation.
<Franceska> Not the way she wanted to find out about it, Franceska thinks with a grimace.
<Julia> "I can't read this," Julia whispers, sliding the Morgan file over to Stephanie and Franceska.
<@Steph> Stephanie clucks her tongue and peers over it.
* Franceska does likewise.
<El-Cideon> Morgan's file is fairly straightforward: his transaction was for a whole host of favors, of material wealth, of referral to useful Infernal servants in Solata, and most notably "Personal Charismatic Enhancement," which from lack of explanation one could judge to be a standard procedure that requires no explanation for anyone likely to be reading these files. Eventually there are notes from infernal observers on the Material plane noting the subject's complete and unexplained disappearance. There is a receipt for scrying procedures that ends in location of the subject on Arborea. "Retrieval unlikely," is the contractor's verdict here. Nonetheless, dispatch of an erinyes is reported shortly thereafter. It was never heard from again. The file ultimately ends with an observer's note: "Subject value insignificant to warrant further expense." Morgan's soul proves to have migrated even more than Derek's in mass trades. Presently it's in possession of a Hamatula in Phlegethos.
<Franceska> "Would the erinyes in question be valuable enough to anyone to bother with a trade?" Franceska asks Masuko thoughtfully.
<El-Cideon> Masuko raises an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? Is it in your possession?"
<Franceska> "You hear all sorts of useful things while traveling across the planes. Would it or its location be valuable or not?"
<El-Cideon> Masuko shrugs. "If nothing else, someone might be interested in punishing it for its failure."
<Franceska> "Might be something to throw in as a bonus to sweeten the deal. I think we have all we want out of this, so let's move on to the other files."
<El-Cideon> Hearing Franceska's last comment, the erinyes chimes in. "Your research is complete?" she asks.
* Franceska pauses in thought. "Galina Merrowyn," she muses. "How about her file?"
<El-Cideon> She snaps her fingers, and an imp apparates to receive new orders. She hands over the other files for replacement as well. "Of course, if I can facilitate your designs in any way outside of my official duties, I would only be pleased to do so," she says to pass the time. The imp returns quite quickly in this instance. The file appears very slim, and the erinyes looks at it dubiously.
<Franceska> Then it would be easily read! Franceska takes a glance.
<Julia> "Are you allowed time off from work for things like that?" Julia asks while her more literate compatriots read the file.
<@Steph> "Oh, you could, could you?" muses Stephanie. "Hey, now that I think about it, we can keep it official for one more name; do you have anything on a chick named Grinda?"
<El-Cideon> Like Jill's, Galina's file begins with war dispatches. Unlike Jill's, that is essentially all that it is--spiteful recollections of a determined foe written during a time of constant hostilities. Attempts at subversion frequently conclude with the summation "Violently resisted." Observations almost wholly cease after the war. Beyond a relay from the plane of Fire noting her elimination of Connor Creel, hell has nothing at all to say about her.
<El-Cideon> "Is that the entirety of her name?" the erinyes queries.
<@Steph> "It's all I've got. It's not a common name, surely?"
<El-Cideon> "First name or last name?" she asks.
<Franceska> How unfortunate. Still, she had to try.
<@Steph> "First name."
<El-Cideon> The erinyes frowns. "That will require an extraordinary effort," she says. "I would have to reassign imps from other tasks, and there is no guarantee that we would not have false positives. Of course, if you are prepared to compensate me for the trouble, I can make the effort. I could seek you out later when I have results?"
<@Steph> "Ah, forget it, then," replies Stephanie, though she continues to eye the erinyes speculatively. "So hey, like she said, do you get time off work for extracurriculars?"
<El-Cideon> "I can arrange it, if I am willing to owe favors to my superiors for the time lost. If my extra endeavors should bring a windfall of rewards they are ultimately pleased to have their cut. Why, is there something you need assistance with?" she asks eagerly.
<@Steph> "We're going to some functions and having an extra voice in the right spot can come in handy. You know, for breaking into the right circles," muses Stephanie. "What's your name? We'll float you a sending. Oh! And if you don't mind me asking, are you better with a bow, or do you like to get stuck right in with a sword?"
<El-Cideon> "Shandria," she says, "and I prefer the personal touch. I would be happy to facilitate your entry into infernal society should you require it. When that time comes, do keep me in mind. We can talk about my compensation then, I'm sure," she says happily.
<Franceska> "Did that just happen?" Franceska whispers to Rosemund, staring at Stephanie with horrified fascination.
<El-Cideon> "I--I am sure that Stephanie is just playing a joke," Rosemund insists quietly.
<@Steph> "Certainly! Until then," replies Stephanie.
<Julia> "I'm sure even devils need a break from the monotony of their jobs now and then," Julia says, thinking it quite sensible. "And she has been ever so helpful with our enquiries."
<El-Cideon> Shandria leads you back to the main desk, where the head clerk looks even more irritable than before. "We have located your dead subjects," he says.
<Franceska> "Indeed?"
<Julia> "Truly I can't think of enough good things to say about the quality of service here!" Julia beams at him.
<El-Cideon> The clerk goes on to further justify Julia's trust! "The master of archives will of course expect a gratuity for his trouble. Of course, if you'd rather not try and navigate the demands of a bone devil who feels himself to be stationed in an occupation beneath his dignity, *I* would be willing to defray the cost and call it a favor owed from me to him, if you'd care to compensate me for, oh, rather more than the entry fee."
<Julia> "I'll expect a receipt again, of course," Julia says as she starts shovelling more filthy lucre onto the clerk's desk such that one must wonder how it manages to remain intact under such a burden! Ten thousand golds worth of a burden at that!
<El-Cideon> The clerk watches until Julia's done and nods in satisfaction. "A pleasure doing business with you," he says, handing Julia another receipt. He then writes out a note to Shandria and waves her along. "Take the mortals to the archives and give that to the master." She nods and strolls along toward a staircase. "This way, please," she says, sounding more enthusiastic about her business than before with the prospect of extracurricular activities no doubt in her future. The stairs spiral around a central light well up and out of sight.
<Julia> "Remember not to spend it all in one place," Julia cautions the clerk before following after Shandria.
<Franceska> "How much might you need to buy a different job?"
<El-Cideon> "Too much," Shandria mutters as you ascend. Several dizzying floors up (it's really better not to look down at this point), Shandria negotiates passage with a gangly, spiky-tailed devil by trading over the clerk's scrip, and then takes you to another reading room. If anything, the plague of dust is even worse on this level. There is little indication that anyone cares much for the documents in this area beyond the Infernal obsession to track and file everyone and everything. Your documents are ready and waiting for you this time: Sandra Durant, Connor Creel, Simon Beneventia.
<@Steph> Stpehanie is all too happy to read about dead infernal collaborators! She supposes that the details of Franceska's apparently villainous mother can stay with her.
<Julia> Since Julia is Hellishly illiterate she just mills around and tries to avoid disturbing the dust.
<Franceska> Well, that's one question answered. Franceska opens her mother's file to answer those that come with it.
<El-Cideon> Creel's litany of atrocities is no doubt familiar to Stephanie from Solata history and from the sad recreation of his life's work in Ashpile. The Infernal authorities were apparently quite satisfied with the number of young converts fostered by his army--after confirmation of his death at the hands of Galina and company on the plane of Fire, there is a formal document of soul migration noting the following details: "Destination: Serata Punishment Hall. Reclamation track: advanced promotion, barbazu status. Initial assignment: Avernus."
<El-Cideon> Beneventia's file is essentially a litany of betrayal: confessions relayed to him in trust by subordinates and compatriots were almost with complete consistency used to turn allies to the infernal side or disgrace or destroy them when actual corruption proved impossible. Handler observations consistently note his pride in his work but, more significantly for means of control, pride in himself. His death on Arcadia is reported by secondhand or third-hand accounts, collated and compared to bolster accuracy. Like Creel's file, his has a formal document stating where his soul was meant to bound in Baator after death. Unlike Creel's, every speck of handwritten text on Beneventia's form has been eradicated. It looks seared out of existence.
<@Steph> "Hey, Shandria, it looks like this text got redacted," remarks Stephanie, glancing at her. "Is it allowed for these records to get burned away?"
<El-Cideon> Franceska's mother's file is, by comparison, a work of less sterling infamy. Her transgressions were mostly the personal betrayal of professional, social, or romantic rivals, whose secrets she was always happy to turn over to interested parties if their disgrace meant her own advancement. Infernal observers note this as modest but effective work; even though they express skepticism of her conscious ideological commitment to the infernal cause, there is little doubt expressed that her actions taken from self-interest furthered the baatezu side. Her cause of death is listed as "Partisan projectile." Her post-death certificate conveys only one thing of consequence: "Destination: Malbolge birthing pit." Whoever completed the form apparently considered that this communicated everything of importance.
<Franceska> "What is the Malbolge birthing pit?" Franceska asks Masuko quietly.
<El-Cideon> "What?" Shandria says, taking the form. She narrows her eyes, looks at for a moment, and then flushes with indignation. "That scoundrel!" she exclaims.
<El-Cideon> Masuko taps the desk thoughtfully. "A spawning place for lemures," he says bluntly, after some consideration.
<@Steph> "This has happened before, huh?"
<Franceska> "Unfortunate."
<El-Cideon> "This cheat, this vile little worm--someone must have resurrected him!" Shandria says. "We don't look well on this sort of thing, not at all. Oh, no, he has a welcome waiting for him whenever he comes back. Deserters are the lowest of the low. Ah! But perhaps this is my opportunity at last!" she says with an agitated air. "I should retrieve him myself. That would be a coup! Everyone would know I deserve a better posting than this if I could bring back a deserter of this stature!"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund ignores this whole outburst, looking concernedly at Franceska. "Are you alright?" she asks quietly.
<Franceska> "Knowing is better than hoping."
<@Steph> "He betrayed everyone in life, so it's no surprise he would betray someone again. I'm sure whoever raised him is already regretting his decision!"
<El-Cideon> "No doubt," Shandria says excitedly. "But where to start, where to start? Ah, I should think best to begin where he died--" Shandria grabs the whole file from Stephanie and starts looking through it. "Mm. Arcadia. Difficult place," she says uncomfortably.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund just nods to Franceska. This seems a familiar sentiment.
<El-Cideon> ~