088: And a rock feels no pain

[Sierra]

*NOTE: the initial section of this log was a Steph side session carried out after Fran's meeting with Krae; chronologically, however, it occurs before Fran's interview*

<@El-Cideon> After the meeting, Phalaris returns Stephanie's weapons. Jill walks you some ways down the hall before speaking up again. "He's intrigued," she shares with you, in a tone which doesn't suggest complete approval.
<Steph> Stephanie nods distractedly, whilst she compares the weight of one of her holy daggers against the apparently unholy short sword she's been equipped with. "That's the idea when you go to an interview," she says. "Did he give you a sword, too? This one's a bit heavier than how I usually like 'em.
<@El-Cideon> Jill glances at Stephanie's gifted weapon, seems about to say something, settles on, "Not one like that."
<Steph> "I don't believe in refusing gifts, but I think this is one for the mantle." Stephanie shrugs, and sticks the weapon down her belt. "Final exam, huh. What am I in for? I mean, is this gonna be practical, theoretical, or ethical?"
<@El-Cideon> "It couldn't be all three?" Jill wonders aloud, sounding as though she has no other expectation.
<Steph> "I've never been good at exams. I just freeze up. Everything I know falls away." Stephanie gives a casual shrug. "I'm guessing I'll have to kill something I don't really wanna kill, and it'll require some kinda novel approach to boot. Failure being death and damnation, success being..." Stephanie frowns.
<@El-Cideon> "Someone else's death and damnation, most likely," Jill finishes for you.
<Steph> "That's kind of close to the bone." Stephanie frowns. "I've killed a lot of people. I guess a lot of them would be around here." She scratches the back of her head. "It's kind of a joke, when you think about it. Every bit of law there ever was says you need to stop and punish the evildoers! But by doing so, you're sort of just empowering them in the end, right? It's hard not to either laugh or cry. Really makes you wonder
<Steph> what the right thing to do is- oh! Speaking of those," she adds, reaching for her neck and lifting off her amulet. "Here, have this back."
<@El-Cideon> Jill stops in her tracks to accept it, just as you've reached the main foyer of the mansion. "'The right thing to do,' not an expression commonly used around here," she says, with a trace of forced humor. She looks at the amulet for a long moment before pocketing it. "Thank you for keeping it safe," she says at last. "I wish you could have found it in better circumstances."
<Steph> "Like on your body, so I could keep it guilt-free?" replies Stephanie, snorting. "Well, come talk to me if you want to trade makeup tips and talk about boys, Ms. Cook. You're the most intact hero around, I gotta get at least one story outta you!"
<@El-Cideon> "Is there a particular one you were looking for?" she asks, sounding as though settled on the safest of many possible questions.
<Steph> "I heard lots of the ones about the last war. Why not one about the Blood War? Like, oh, your first campaign?"
<@El-Cideon> "Are you really here for war stories?" Jill says, resuming her approach to the main stairs. "I shouldn't expect we have time to finish one before I have to retrieve your friend. I'm sure we can talk at length with more privacy later if you really want to hear about that."
<Steph> "I shall eagerly await that time, then."
<@El-Cideon> "The training hall is usually vacant in the afternoon," she says. "Find me there tomorrow if you've not already been tasked with something. It's on the ground floor, right past the garden." Unless there's anything more immediately to say, Jill leaves you outside the guest quarters on the right wing of the second floor to bring Franceska to her meeting with Krae.
<Steph> Stephanie shrugs her shoulders absently, and briefly feels her neck. "C'mon, sungod. I'm doing good work," she mutters to herself, looking around for a moment at the mansion's confines. "Lemme regen on my own, willya?"
<@El-Cideon> The foyer has a number of exits: the guest wing where Jill left to retrieve Franceska is evidently to the right. A set of double doors is immediately before you, and to the left is is a corridor warded by a serious looking stone golem that exhibits no particular intention to move. On the ground floor, apart from the corridor that led to Krae's office, were several other doors: one to the right of the stairs and two to the left of them.
<Steph> Stephanie ambles around the corner, but then she briefly flickers out of sight, and attempts to slip past this observant golem to investigate corridors unknown!
<Steph> roll 1d20+48 (-20 vs. invis-seeing people.)
<Serith> Steph roll for Serith < 56 >12 [d20=8]
<@El-Cideon> Stephanie easily slips past the construct obviously on guard for more visible intruders. Beyond is a brightly lit hallway stretching all down this side of the mansion. There are three doors on either side of the hallway and a more elegant one at the far end of the hall. This last is flanked by a pair of large hellhounds standing at attention.
<Steph> Stephanie opts to slip back the way she came, rather than risk penetrating one of the doors around here with so many dogs nearby to watch them open (mysteriously.) But she can listen at those other doors on the ground floor and see if anyone lurks within!
<@El-Cideon> Stephanie can hear a high-pitched humming behind the door on the right, occasionally interspersed with snippets of song. It sounds like someone enthusing about the joy of pulling wings off of fairies.
<Steph> Stephanie brazenly knocks on the door!
<@El-Cideon> The Infernal equivalent of "Whuzzat" can be heard inside. Shortly, an imp in a very proper servant's black suit cracks open the door. It is holding a feather duster. There's a lavishly appointed sitting room within, and another open door to what looks like a grand audience chamber with a showy ebony throne.
<Steph> "Oh, hello," replies Stephanie, sounding just dreamy. "My! Is this the throne room? Might I take a look inside? Oh, sorry- I'm new around here, so I was hoping to meet everyone I could! What's your name? I'm Steph!"
<@El-Cideon> "New guest?" the imp assumes. "Fine. But don't break anything!" it insists before buzzing off to dust a statue of some ferocious insectile monster. The corners of the room each bear alcoves with striking marble recreations of all manner of fearsome foes.

<@El-Cideon> ~

<@El-Cideon> Scarlet leaves the group in their quarters to go oversee preparation of the evening meal; a bell in the guest wing lounge should summon the maid if anyone requires anything in the interim. Shortly thereafter, Thing and Stephanie reappear from whatever skulking had occupied them during their absence, looking not visibly the worse for wear.
<Julia> "Well Thing, find anything interesting?" Julia asks, shepherding her familiar behind a modesty screen so anyone barging in won't immediately notice the small demon in their midst.
<Steph> Stephanie wanders over to a chair and sprawls across both it and its partner. "How was your interview?" she drawls, glancing at Franceska.
<Franceska> "I've been invited to stay here for the week while I complete a task to prove my skills," Franceska responds. "Miss Cook has graciously agreed to help me with my research."
<@El-Cideon> "Find three places with guards!" Thing reports. "Long hall right across floor from us," he counts off on his spindly clawed fingers, "big metal door downstairs past dining room; and there stairway down the hall from that."
<Julia> "What sort of guards?" Julia asks.
<Steph> "It must be rare for her to meet anyone pleasant to talk to," muses Stephanie.
<Franceska> "She does seem to keep a distance from the others by choice."
<@El-Cideon> "Lots of walking statues!" Thing squeaks. "Could step on me real easy, but they too dumb to see," he adds proudly. "Also bad devil doggies. And..." He looks around with an air of paranoia. "Invisible devil kitties around too, I think. Not sure how many. Could be anywhere. Could be everywhere! They hard to spot. Sure I passed a few though. But that mostly it." Thing scratches his head. "Big bad devil keep lots of guards, but they not smart guards."
<@El-Cideon> "Oh," he adds as an afterthought, "and some imps doing *housework*." Thing sniggers.
<Steph> "The imps don't count. They'll let anyone through if you tell them you're meant to be here," replies Stephanie, lazily, before blinking and peering around the room for any invisible devil kittens.
<Julia> "You did well, Thing," Julia says, sharing a smile at his counterparts being relegated to drudgery. As if he never does any himself. "I'll bake you a pie when we get home. Now, turn into a bat and hide in my pocket for now?" she asks, holding a pocket of her robes open.
<@El-Cideon> Thing squeaks in eager anticipation of possible future mystery pie and obliges.
<Julia> That all done, Julia goes to sit with Stephanie and Franceska. "So, what are we planning now?" she asks.
<Franceska> "Something is keeping Miss Cook here, and I would like to find out what that is. I believe it should be the first step?"
<Steph> "She's been here a while, right? It's hard to think of someone like her getting extorted for long," muses Stephanie. "But if she actually thinks this is the best place for her, then it's different, right? Like... 'I need to fight the demons, and this is the best way.'"
<Julia> "Can't deny the devils are deep into that business," Julia agrees. "But most people see them as bad as each other. Why would Jill choose this particular side?"
<Franceska> "The important part is, I believe we should find out as soon as possible if she would actually like to leave. If not, we'll just cut our business here short."
<@El-Cideon> "She cannot possibly want to stay here," Rosemund protests in disbelief. "It is the worst place out of all the places!"
<Franceska> "Well no, it is not the absolute worst place. For one, it is not the plane of death?"
<Julia> "She doesn't seem particularly happy in the same way as Scarlet does," Julia agrees.
<Franceska> "I intend to approach her by asking her just what it is that keeps her tied here. She might appreciate a direct approach?"
<Steph> "I tried. She went all 'it's necessary' and didn't say much." Stephanie shrugs. "But, you know, keep hitting something with a hammer and it'll cave eventually, I guess. We have a date later to talk about war stories. Good times."
<Franceska> "So how do we do this? Together? Or separately?"
<Steph> "Separately. Did she tell you where her quarters were, by the way?"
<Franceska> "I cannot imagine a context where I might ask her that question."
<Julia> "Where can I come find you if I have any questions?" Julia suggests.
<Franceska> "She suggested a training room, so that is where I will make the attempt."
<Steph> Stephanie nods lazily. "I'll see if I can find her place."
<Julia> "What about us minions?" Julia asks. "Should we stick with our employers or both go see Jill or her room?"
<Franceska> "It wouldn't make sense for us to crowd her with everyone, but should someone choose to accompany me and help pressure Miss Cook...."
<Steph> "That sounds like a job in which earnest hearts shall prevail!"
<@El-Cideon> Rosemund raises her hand to volunteer, then begins to appear self-conscious about her less than perfectly human appearance.
<Franceska> "If nothing else, it can tell us if she's here out of hate of anything demonic, Rosemund."
<Julia> "I suppose that leaves the snooping to me then," Julia says with acceptance.
<@El-Cideon> The night passes with reassuring uneventfulness, considering the locale. Sylvia is on hand in the morning to provide any refreshment the guests might require for breakfast, and Franceska is able to find Jill in a first floor room just past the garden. The training room is obvious with its function, walls lined with practice weapons, stocked with training dummies that look quite capable of motion if required of them. Jill is engaged in some manner of calisthenics as you arrive. The former crusader is dressed simply, in just a light shirt and shorts. She looks extremely well fit considering her age.
<Franceska> "Good morning, Miss Cook," Franceska greets her. "I don't believe you've had a chance to be properly introduced to my friend Rosemund?"
<@El-Cideon> "I have not," Jill admits. She nods with all proper courtesy, looking neither especially judgemental or friendly with regard to Rosemund. Rosemund, hesitantly, offers the quiet benediction, "Morning's blessing upon you," by way of greeting, thereafter taking a worried look around in case Baator itself should object to her faith.
<Franceska> "She's from Solata as well, as one might expect," Franceska elaborates. "In a sense, Rosemund is the reason I'm even traveling around. If it were up to me, I would likely still be studying law back there, while dispatching my familiar to cover most of my appearances in court."
<@El-Cideon> "You do need to be careful where you say such prayers," Jill confirms on observing Rosemund's unease. "They would offend the ears of many here." She doesn't sound personally offended herself. She looks at Franceska as though Fran's admission requires further explanation.
<Franceska> "After hearing a divination suggesting many of Solata's notables were imprisoned or in danger, she decided she had to see it for herself. So far, the divination had borne itself out. Especially the circumstances of Phibous Liramar. Those were the worst, I think." Like Jill, she doesn't offer any particular emotion while speaking of that. "Where the divination had been proven right, I had
<Franceska> taken action on her behalf."
<@El-Cideon> "Your concern for the fate of an old soldier is touching," Jill says drily. "In truth I'm surprised anyone remembers at all," she admits more seriously. "If you have news of...old friends...I should like to hear it," she prompts.
<Franceska> "Very well," Franceska acquiesces to the request. "Marcus had been kept by a mad fey in the elf heaven for years, a fate surely worse than death. He ended up a bit mutilated for his trouble, but keeps in good spirits and now cohabitates with a nymph. Brijid had been the plaything of illithids, but both she and the memories they have extracted from her have been retrieved, and a specialist
<Franceska> on Air is working to reintegrate them along with William, who like Marcus escaped his captivity by drow and then on the plane of death with mostly physical wounds and an unbroken spirit."
<@El-Cideon> Jill listens to this with a stony expression. "And how did all of this happen? When I left them, they were free. I should have thought that together they would possess the means to stay that way." After a moment, she adds, "There are names you've not mentioned."
<Franceska> "I killed Phibous at his request," Franceska says, not adding to that. "I intend to look into Raymun once my business in Baator had been concluded. And Galina has been running around abducting mages and gathering half-breeds and the research of one of your vanquished foes to use them all to power some massive ritual. Rather than being saved, she likely needs to be stopped by some heroic
<Franceska> spirit."
<@El-Cideon> Jill pauses in the midst of her exercises and strands ramrod straight, wiping a sheen of sweat from her brow before responding to this. "That's a lie," she asserts. "Or you've been misinformed."
<Franceska> "Phibous believed she had taken up residence in the domicile of Tetrarchus," Franceska muses. "Ione Demetrinous told us how Galina approached them a few years after dispatching Victoria Crane to look for her research notes. We've come across an outpost lead by Mechanus that studied halfbreeds and the magic of various beings, where Galina herself had left a recording bidding her erstwhile
<Franceska> companions not to try and stop her, or she will deal with them. All that and more. It could be a misunderstanding of the situation, certainly, but I cannot see how."
<@El-Cideon> Jill digests all of this silently for a long moment, carefully observing Franceska for any sign of disembling. "You're serious," she realizes eventually. "But this person you're speaking of is not the woman I knew. Can you prove any of this?"
<Franceska> "If you come with me to the Mechanus outpost in question, you could see and hear her message for yourself," Franceska responds. "The same if you were to travel to Air and speak to a few other witnesses. Is any of this an option? I must admit your status here in Baator confuses me. If you are a prisoner in some sense of the term, neither of these options are possible and I must think of a
<Franceska> different proof."
<@El-Cideon> "I am not a prisoner in the conventional sense," Jill says with a faint smile. "I am relied upon." Reverting to a more neutral demeanor, she continues, "Your other tiefling friend thinks I've lost my way. Is that what you've come here for? To bring me back home?"
<Franceska> "My first reaction is to tell you to shut up and act like a damsel in distress should while she's being rescued, but that's really Rosemund's fault. If you genuinely have a reason you think is good for staying here, I would like to ask you for it."
<@El-Cideon> OOC: diplo would be useful here
<Franceska> roll 1d20+26
<Rei-chan> 6,0Franceska rolled :6,0 1d20+26 --> 6,0[ 1d20=20 ]4,0{46}
<@El-Cideon> She nods assent after careful consideration. "But first I want you to consider: what, in your experience, is the attitude of the average devil to a mortal in its service? Especially with regard to mortal enlistees in the Blood War?"
<Franceska> "A tool of varying usefulness, which it will always eventually outlive."
<@El-Cideon> Another nod. "They are expected to die, in very short order. This is by design: it ensures the prompt collection of tainted souls after the mortal shell has provided a modicum of use in wearing down the Abyssal hordes. So no expense at all is provided to bolster the equipment or training of mercenary companies recruited from other worlds, because no one at all means for them to survive their contracts."
<Franceska> "And you believe, by your efforts, that you are increasing their chances at survival and thus thwarting both Baator and the Abyss?"
<@El-Cideon> "I know I am helping them to survive, because it's drawn official notice. And that not necessarily always approving," she adds wryly. "We should remember that many of these soldiers have no proper idea what they have signed on for until it's too late. Many of them are ignorant young commoners looking for fortune and excitement, and it often does not occur to them to ask the right questions until their mercenary captains have signed over the company's services to a broker from the lower planes. Very often Hell remains little more than a frightening tall tale until they're actually transported here to go to work. And then, well, there's rarely much time left. The baatezu authorities can conceive of little use for mortal soldiers but as the most mundane of tools, and thus spare no thought for making them anything more. I help them realize this: that the only thing they have to rely upon is each other; that their Infernal masters have not the slightest concern for wasting their lives; and that only the selfless cooperation that saw *us* to victory against the fiends twenty years ago will help them survive now. And I don't need to preach anything at all against Baatorian dogma to help them understand this. I only need to lead by example, so that they know their best chance for survival is to support the man on either side, and so that when a few of them, perhaps not as many as I should like but always more than expected, a few them live through their contract to go home and spread tales of where they've been, they know to tell everyone that the games of fiends are not to be played by mortals."
<Franceska> "I think," Franceska says at length, having listened to Jill's reasoning quietly, "that you had a similar choice to myself, some years back. Do I reform Hell in my image, or destroy the infernal machine? You chose the former, to work within the system and do what you can to advance your own views of how things should be. But I think you made a mistake by settling for less. I killed those
<Franceska> oppressing Ashpile. I could have intervened by teaching the residents how to endure under the rule of the Burning Hand, or lead them in an uprising. Instead, I took care of the leaders and routed the minions, and then arranged transport for the weak off to a safer plane. Rather than a few to spread a cautionary tale, the vast majority was saved. I posit that if your goal is to educate those
<Franceska> upon Prime and help those already engaged in the war without a true understanding of it, your methods are grossly inefficient and would like to offer you a chance to do much better without Baator's constraints."
<@El-Cideon> "I defend myself only on grounds of accepting the least terrible option available to me after years of torture," Jill admits with a degree of resignation. "My present station was offered to me as a condition of release, and it was perhaps in a moment of weakness that I accepted. But I believe I have done as well with the opportunity as could be expected of anyone." She shakes her head. "No one person could ever overturn the entire institution of Hell itself, and I do not claim to be making any such great strides. But to save as many as I could from eternal torment has been some consolation. I also suspect," she adds uncertainly, "that my employer may be slowly but steadily going mad."
<Franceska> "The reason I dislike Baator despite being so comfortable here is because I have no desire of being some cog in a great machine or being stripped of any uniqueness, even before other just as obvious reasons," Franceska muses. "Your employer is certainly unique, which should result in chaffing against his very nature. It would not surprise me if what you describe were a possible outcome."
<Franceska> She shakes her head. "In any case, Miss Cook, I have come to make you a better offer. I would not offer you freedom, as that you can have on your own any time you so wish. Instead, I must admit I'm interested in you. So, how about doing what you have always been, except more and better? If Galina can be talked down, or it is all a misunderstanding to be resolved, you would be best placed to
<Franceska> do so. If your other old friends can recover faster with your presence, that would be welcome. And finally, once that situation has been resolved satisfactory, I have no doubt Rosemund would wish to offer you her services. We possess a ship with the means of traveling across planes and capable of ferrying quite a few passengers. You could save a great deal more from senseless slaughter in
<Franceska> the Blood War, and educate more than ever before. And, naturally, I would not let Rosemund go into such danger on her own, which would increase your chances of success considerably, if you'll pardon such an immodest statement." Franceska pauses in consideration. "If you would like to wrap up a loose end, and secure one Simon Beneventia who, despite common opinion, is still out there, I would
<Franceska> be quite happy to assist in that as well. What do you say, Miss Cook?"
<@El-Cideon> Jill looks like she has more to say, but one thing immediately catches her attention: "He's alive?"
<Franceska> "Of that there is no doubt. Perhaps he had a contingency in place that led to his resurrection, or his death could have been faked," Franceska says, nudging Rosemund.
<@El-Cideon> "I think that he must really have died, because the file that Baator kept on him said so," Rosemund recalls. "And then it sort of unwrote itself. The devil we were, ah, accepting some temporary guidance from at the time thought that meant someone revived him."
<Franceska> "Bribery goes a long way with desperate devils. It's really quite sad to watch, but ultimately immaterial to the matter at hand. Miss Cook, I trust our wealth of knowledge and our very presence here points to our resourcefulness and capability, so those are not cast in doubt?"
<@El-Cideon> "I can't imagine what degree of mischief he might have got up to in twenty years, but I should like to see it stopped," Jill says. "At the very least I will need to see what proof you have about what Galina's doing," she decides, "and I'd be happy to find that my old friends are doing well. Or at least better." A degree of grimness overtakes her mood again. "But Krae will not easily allow to me leave. I have made myself too important to his enterprises. Were you to covertly spirit me away, he would not spare any expense in tracking and punishing the responsible party."
<Franceska> "I can offer to spirit you away, along with anyone you considered important enough to bring with you. If you believe that force is needed to discourage pursuit, however, I can arrange for that as well."
<@El-Cideon> "I'd not leave in complete certainty that my escape would only endanger others," Jill answers decisively.
<Franceska> "Very well, Miss Cook. In that case, I only require to know whether you have, despite appearances, developed a fondness for anyone employed here. I would need to take measures to protect them, in such a case." Unless it's the elf, but how could it be?
<@El-Cideon> "The chambermaid hasn't any business being here," she says. "The rest belong."
<Franceska> "The same one that was assigned to cater to our every need?" Franceska muses. "In that case, she will end up busy when it is time. That leaves the matter of how to alert you. Naturally, you could pick up on events if they happen ahead of schedule out of necessity and try to seek myself out. But if we manage to time things satisfactorily, I will let you know of the details when you visit me
<Franceska> to help me with my task. I hope it would not be too much trouble to visit me from time to time over the next few days?"
<@El-Cideon> "I'm here exercising every morning if that's easier," Jill says.
<Franceska> "Between that and making sure to stop by in the evening, that should do well."

~

<@El-Cideon> Left to their own devices as Franceska goes to meet Jill, the remainder of the party has the morning free to scheme as they desire. "So I decided to avail myself of the maid's company last night," Crier shares with everyone. "Just to talk though, she's not my type," she adds blithely. "Wrong equipment for starters."
<Steph> "But you just had to check?" Stephanie eyes Crier suspiciously. "Are you actually blind?"
<Julia> "Good conversation?" Julia asks, relieved at that clarification.
<@El-Cideon> "Servants know everything that goes on in a house!" Crier explains. "Who else would you ask first?"
<Julia> "Makes sense. Get anything juicy?"
<@El-Cideon> "Well, I started with the simple stuff, you know, who are you, what are you doing here? Turns out she was the companion of a merc that got suckered into taking a Blood War contract. He died of course, as most of them do in short order. Jill brought her back here rather than leave her to the dubious goodwill of Avernus's legions. It's not nice here, obviously, but probably better than some helpless mortal could expect left to her own devices." Crier shrugs. "Small mercies, right?"
<Julia> "It's a step up, I suppose."
<Steph> "I keep wondering why people sign up to those. Are they incredibly, stupendously lucrative?"
<@El-Cideon> "I'm sure they sound that way, right up until you find out what you're actually fighting and it kills you," Crier says. "You know how these lawyers are, they're good at leaving the important bits out."
<Julia> "Probably don't include transport so when your contract expires you're in some trench in the middle of Avernus with demons all around," Julia guesses. "Either way you're going to fight and die for Hell."
<Steph> "Yup." Stephanie stands up. "I mean, there are monsters no number of weak people can actually fight, and I'm guessing they're all over the place in those battlefields. Really, I think they must just recruit mortals for giggles."
<Julia> "I don't know, I think the likes of us could make it out," Julia says. "Not that I'd go for it anyway."
<@El-Cideon> "It's all about the souls," Crier sing-songs. "That's all anything's about here. Anyway, everybody's bedrooms are down the hall across the way from here. She, uh, she's spent some time in a couple of them."
<Steph> "Most people aren't the likes of us," affirms Stephanie. "Oh, great! I mean, that's not great for her, but great."
<Julia> "No doubt. Anything relevant?"
<@El-Cideon> "Scarlet doesn't use her bed," Crier says. "I mean except for, you know. But she sleeps somewhere else. I dunno where, the bedroom's like just a place to keep fancy clothes. The door at the end of the hall is the boss's room, Sylvia's never been in there and I'm sure that's a relief. The elf likes to enchant people to think they're in love and let them remember they're really not after they've done all sorts of regrettable things. So yeah, she's been in his room too. And the big metal guy, she's never seen out of that armor. She thinks he's just a construct like a lot of the other guards here."
<Julia> Good to know Jill hasn't gone in for that. But that elf is revolting. "I'm glad we haven't seen the elf since arriving here, but I really want to do horrible things to him from reputation alone. Either that or Franceska's rubbing off on me."
<Steph> "No, that's the natural reaction."
<@El-Cideon> "Oh, Scarlet's also supposed to be in charge of keeping an eye on the boss's valuables," Crier recalls. "Pretty weird overlap there, right? Anyway, the odd thing she says is that for a devil's house, there aren't that many devils around. At least, none of the clever ones that can scheme and plan. There's just some hellcats and helldoggies and those maintenance imps."
<Julia> "Fits with what Thing said, most of the guards being constructs. I wonder what that says about Krae Nalus?"
<Steph> "Pragmatic person. Why would you keep assholes like smart devils around?" Stephanie stands up. "Anyway, let's go try finding Jill's room."
<@El-Cideon> "Sure, it's down that hallway across the foyer," Crier says. "There are some guards, though. I could try teleporting us in, unless you've got other ideas?"
<Julia> "I'm not very good with constructs," Julia says apologetically.
<Steph> "You can do that? You're a mighty wizard?"
<@El-Cideon> "Nah, I just made the spacetime continuum my bitch," Crier says with a wave. "Even that doesn't do any good if bossman was smart enough to put wards over everything important, but I'm guessing the rooms of his servants didn't qualify."
<Steph> "Oh, sure! You just kick natural law in the balls, I know how that goes," replies Stephanie, back on familiar ground. "Alright, let's go snoop."
<@El-Cideon> "Right, let's just hope I got a good enough description of the room," Crier says, offering a hand to each of you.
<Steph> Stephanie looks slightly nervous at that pointer, but assumes the worst that will happen is that they will end up in a different room, possibly with an elf to smear over the walls in good measure.
<Julia> Julia takes a hand without fear!
<@El-Cideon> "Fingers crossed, girls!" Crier suggests, then uttering a brief chant to warp the group through space to--a modest, aggressively plain bedroom. The dimensions here suggest that something grander was intended, but the extra space has never been properly filled by its occupant. The bed is a simple pallet, there is a cabinet of drawers and a wardrobe, and an armor stand holds the sturdy set of plate Jill had worn during yesterday's encounter. There is no immediate sign of its owner.
<Steph> "This is really taking being spartan to the next level. I have more knicknacks in my bedroll than this room has," notes Stephanie, wandering over to the drawers and peering through them.
<Julia> "Looks... plain," Julia says, glancing about.
<@El-Cideon> "Yeah, Sylvia said Jill doesn't go in much for luxury," Crier recalls. "Which makes Scarlet happy because it means there's always more gold and jewels for her instead." The drawers principally contain a handful of books and writing implements.
<Steph> Books are certainly interesting, so Stephanie starts leafing through them.
<@El-Cideon> Most are manuals on combat and warfare, written mostly in Infernal. Stephanie also finds a series of handwritten logs that detail company attrition rates over the course of Jill's tenure in Baator. What initially starts as a terse and dispassionate relation of provisions, recruitments and casualties is over time much less guarded in its personal satisfaction of this latter figure steadily decreasing. It's still very high by any Prime army's standards, of course.
<Steph> Stephanie slides them back. "No secret missives here. Yeah, it looks like she's just being the best leader she can be." Stephanie scratches her head. "I wonder if she's planning a coup or something?" she muses, excitedly.
<Julia> "Does she have any allies, nevermind friends?" Julia asks. "A bit hard to do all on your own."
<@El-Cideon> "That's pretty much a subordinate's job in Hell, right?" Crier points out.
<@El-Cideon> "As far as I can tell, nobody here really likes her," she adds. "Well, I guess the maid thinks she's okay. But everyone else, it sounds like they hate her, either they're just waiting for her to slip up and be all goody two-shoes again or they're jealous the boss trusts her more than them."
<Steph> "I'm willing to bet nobody really likes anyone else much around here," remarks Stephanie. "I mean, nobody actually cares about other people. It sounds sappy but if people don't have that, then they'll see everyone as tools or irritants, right?"
<Julia> "And if you care it can be used against you," Julia nods, seeing the hellish train of thought.
<@El-Cideon> "Pretty much," Crier agrees, casually rifling through the wardrobe and then poking around under the mattress. "Hey, I thought this was yours!" she says, hauling out the formerly Stephanie's amulet. "I wonder if she thought hiding it there was clever."
<Julia> "Oh, did you give it back to her?" Julia asks.
<Steph> "Sure, why not? This room is boring and I bet after the first five times, sneaky assholes like us stop looking. And put it back!"
<@El-Cideon> "Alright, alright," Crier relents, replacing the amulet.
<Steph> "It belonged to her to start with," says Stephanie, feeling self-righteous. "My one good deed in Hell, returning lost property. We really gotta step it up."
<Julia> "Oh, I really wasn't criticising. I think that was very nice of you," Julia says approvingly.
<Steph> "Oh, um, thanks! I thought it was a bit special so it would feel wrong to hang onto it after actually meeting her. Besides, did you ever get that awkward feeling after taking out some bandit or thug and feeding yourself from his walking-around money? Stealing twice is probably not actually a great way to live," muses Stephanie.
<@El-Cideon> Crier shrugs. "If he needed it so much, he shouldn't have got himself killed," she says cheerily.
<Julia> "He's not walking around any more," Julia agrees. "But yes, the amulet must be sentimental so it's more meaningful to return."
<Steph> "I can't agree more with anything everyone is saying. Let's go back to the room and drink more infernal tea."
<@El-Cideon> "Right! So, the thing is, I used up the one perfect spell I had for warping around today. I mean, I've got others, but they're, you know, less perfect. So if you're the praying sorts, that might not be amiss right now." So saying, she grabs hold of Stephanie and Julia to teleport back to the lounge--
<Steph> "Wait, what?"
<@El-Cideon> roll 1d100
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d100 1,0 --> 6,0[ 1d100=74 ]4,0{74}
<@El-Cideon> --and you shortly arrive back in the guest wing with no apparent sign of misfortune. "There, see? Nothing to worry about," Crier assures you after the fact.
<Julia> "My heart would have thanked you to have kept it a secret," Julia says, resting a hand over her chest.

~

<@El-Cideon> Shortly thereafter, Franceska and Rosemund rejoin the rest of the group back in their quarters, no doubt to plot and scheme.
<Franceska> "She's ready to leave, and had no objections to our chosen method of doing so," Franceska reports curtly. "Ah, but she did want to bring the chambermaid along, so someone will need to avail of her company when it is time."
<Julia> "Crier is way ahead of you," Julia happily says.
<@El-Cideon> "So do we know when and where that time is?" Crier asks. "I'll need to tell Her Grace and the rest of the gang when to pop in."
<Franceska> "We should compile our knowledge of the premises and the defenses," Franceska muses. "Then, if there are any noticeable holes, I shall ask Miss Cook to fill them in and then we will be ready. How does that sound?"
<Julia> "Constructs and hell cats/dogs?" Julia says. "Aside from the notable personalities that seems it for defenders."
<Franceska> "I suppose. She did seem to think her employer was going crazy, so maybe he isn't as security-conscious as most devils in his position."
<Steph> "Can you guys sniff out wards against teleportation?"
<@El-Cideon> "Well, I can tell if there's magic around, but if some place's that protected in the first place then there's probably guards keeping us away too," Crier says. "I figure you probably want to arrange this ambush or whatever for a meeting in a big open room where it's easy to teleport in our whole crew."
<Franceska> "Would here do?"
<@El-Cideon> She looks up and around. "Well, we might have to bash the ship through a wall or something. The garden might be better, or if he's got some fancy throneroom or something. These bigshots usually like to show off like that."
<Franceska> "He does, but I couldn't say if it were warded. How about the garden, then? While it sets off a commotion outside, we could quickly deal with the elf that's probably lurking nearby."
<Steph> "He sure does have one of them."
<Julia> "He's been keeping well out of sight, hasn't he?"
<Franceska> "A well-developed survival sense, perhaps."
<@El-Cideon> Crier folds her hands behind her head and leans back. "Well, just lemme know when! We'll make sure all the proper carnage happens."
<Franceska> "The day after tomorrow?" Franceska proposes. "It gives me time to ask Miss Cook if there are any protections on the throne room she is aware of."
<@El-Cideon> "Sure thing," she agrees. "Everybody do your best to smile diabolically and look like you're thinking evil thoughts until then."
<Franceska> "Of course. Ah, and Rosemund, my apologies for volunteering you like that."
<@El-Cideon> Rosemund shakes her head. "I think that it turned out fine," she says.
<Franceska> "So it did."
<@El-Cideon> ~