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<blockquote data-quote="Salmakia" data-source="post: 9233514" data-attributes="member: 7038731"><p>Time passed. The Blood War raged. I used my mirror and my crystals and my bones in service of my Duke, to predict where our enemies would strike and to penetrate the veils that hid from us their weaknesses. Thanks to me, we staved off a demonic incursion with forces that far outnumbered our own. If I were generous, I would say that some credit was owed to our generals who responded to the information I provided with ruthless alacrity.</p><p></p><p>But I have never been known for my generosity.</p><p></p><p>In spite of the ceaseless nature of my work, I nonetheless found moments to keep tabs on the four who had called me. They made it through the dungeon with the Balhannoth and found the relic it had been built to safeguard. Some artifact that was needed for a priestly ritual. They thwarted the schemes of a Night Hag, which was really a pity because she was doing excellent work. I’m sure she’ll find a way to return from beyond nightmare.</p><p></p><p>And then they found themselves embroiled once more in a task that required assistance. It seemed they were searching for another artifact – a weapon, this time, that had been stolen from an elf queen – and the sly bastard who took it was keeping it in a lake of acid surrounded by an antimagic bubble. Much to the cleric’s dismay, the team agreed that the best course of action was to summon an abishai that was immune to acid. </p><p></p><p>Tiamat, I’ve discovered, has a wide range of servants that are each good for exactly one task. Personally I’ve always favored a more versatile approach.</p><p></p><p>Even before the wizard had started the summoning incantation, I had struck a deal with one of the dragon queen’s advisors: 500 souls in exchange for an abishai, <em>dominated </em>by me for an hour. A steep price, to be sure, but I had been out of Infernal politics for so long that I had quite a nest egg of souls accumulated.</p><p></p><p>Summoning the abishai to me, I informed it of my commands. By this time the wizard had begun his chanting, but sixty seconds was more than enough time for the simple instructions I was imparting. Sending the abishai off through the portal I returned to my mirror to witness events unfold.</p><p></p><p>“Oh devil,” began the wizard, “foul thing from Hell—”</p><p></p><p>Really? This again? Don’t they have any respect for the value of a fiend's time? I quickly located a warlock – one of the score or so pacted to me – as I would need her for what came next.</p><p></p><p>Returning my attention to the abishai, the wizard was finally getting around to the point. “The task we require of you is this: There is a sword at the bottom of that lake. Due to your immunity to acid, you should be able to retrieve it with impunity.”</p><p></p><p>The abishai responded with the words I had commanded. “I cannot,” it hissed, “for the antimagic at the bottom of the pool would cause me – or any summoned creature – to vanish. However, I do know of one who can help you. I could give you a totem...”</p><p></p><p>“Fine,” groaned the wizard, the frustration at having to expend more magical energy written all across his face. “Give me the totem.”</p><p></p><p>“First, my price,” retorted the abishai.</p><p></p><p>The cleric started to utter something foul about working with fiends, but the wizard waved him off. “What would that price be?” he inquired.</p><p></p><p>“You must never again harm one of Tiamat’s dragons,” intoned the abishai.</p><p></p><p>The cleric stared, his mouth agape. “Never harm another dragon?” he exclaimed. “So if an evil red dragon is attacking innocent villagers we just have to stand by and do nothing?”</p><p></p><p>The tabaxi, who styled herself a bit of a negotiator, approached the abishai with a placating manner. “That’s entirely unreasonable,” she said, “especially for such a small service being rendered. How about we agree to harm no dragons for the next year?”</p><p></p><p>“Five years,” countered the abishai, as I had instructed.</p><p></p><p>“How about we will not harm a dragon <strong>in its lair</strong> for five years, or steal from a dragon’s lair, or even seek out a dragon’s lair. But if a dragon leaves its lair to attack a city or something then its fair game.”</p><p></p><p>“Done,” agreed the abishai. “Each of you must swear it in blood.”</p><p></p><p>That’s not technically true. Any deal with a devil is binding, but in situations with multiple individuals involved and promises that will last for years, it can help to have some metric of acceptance. A signature, if you will, to present as proof in case of challenges to the agreement.</p><p></p><p>After debating the benefits and drawbacks of the deal, the four of them agreed that they had no other way of retrieving the elf queen’s weapon, and that they were wealthy enough that they wouldn’t need to track down any dragons. They each spilled a drop of blood for the abishai, and in exchange the devil gave them a totem with which to call ‘the only one who could help them’ (guess who).</p><p></p><p>I subconsciously registered the 500 souls I had paid to Tiamat returning to my domain upon the conclusion of the mortals’ deal. It turns out that dragon queens are far more willing to lend their servants to a task for free if that task directly advances their interests.</p><p></p><p>I hope it isn’t too boastful to say that I am a very skilled negotiator.</p><p></p><p>I will also point out that the totem the abishai gave to the wizard was not my personal amulet. How stupid do you think I am? No, it was merely a carved piece of wood with no magical properties whatsoever. But mortals like having physical things to focus their spells. I probably did too, once upon a time.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Salmakia, post: 9233514, member: 7038731"] Time passed. The Blood War raged. I used my mirror and my crystals and my bones in service of my Duke, to predict where our enemies would strike and to penetrate the veils that hid from us their weaknesses. Thanks to me, we staved off a demonic incursion with forces that far outnumbered our own. If I were generous, I would say that some credit was owed to our generals who responded to the information I provided with ruthless alacrity. But I have never been known for my generosity. In spite of the ceaseless nature of my work, I nonetheless found moments to keep tabs on the four who had called me. They made it through the dungeon with the Balhannoth and found the relic it had been built to safeguard. Some artifact that was needed for a priestly ritual. They thwarted the schemes of a Night Hag, which was really a pity because she was doing excellent work. I’m sure she’ll find a way to return from beyond nightmare. And then they found themselves embroiled once more in a task that required assistance. It seemed they were searching for another artifact – a weapon, this time, that had been stolen from an elf queen – and the sly bastard who took it was keeping it in a lake of acid surrounded by an antimagic bubble. Much to the cleric’s dismay, the team agreed that the best course of action was to summon an abishai that was immune to acid. Tiamat, I’ve discovered, has a wide range of servants that are each good for exactly one task. Personally I’ve always favored a more versatile approach. Even before the wizard had started the summoning incantation, I had struck a deal with one of the dragon queen’s advisors: 500 souls in exchange for an abishai, [I]dominated [/I]by me for an hour. A steep price, to be sure, but I had been out of Infernal politics for so long that I had quite a nest egg of souls accumulated. Summoning the abishai to me, I informed it of my commands. By this time the wizard had begun his chanting, but sixty seconds was more than enough time for the simple instructions I was imparting. Sending the abishai off through the portal I returned to my mirror to witness events unfold. “Oh devil,” began the wizard, “foul thing from Hell—” Really? This again? Don’t they have any respect for the value of a fiend's time? I quickly located a warlock – one of the score or so pacted to me – as I would need her for what came next. Returning my attention to the abishai, the wizard was finally getting around to the point. “The task we require of you is this: There is a sword at the bottom of that lake. Due to your immunity to acid, you should be able to retrieve it with impunity.” The abishai responded with the words I had commanded. “I cannot,” it hissed, “for the antimagic at the bottom of the pool would cause me – or any summoned creature – to vanish. However, I do know of one who can help you. I could give you a totem...” “Fine,” groaned the wizard, the frustration at having to expend more magical energy written all across his face. “Give me the totem.” “First, my price,” retorted the abishai. The cleric started to utter something foul about working with fiends, but the wizard waved him off. “What would that price be?” he inquired. “You must never again harm one of Tiamat’s dragons,” intoned the abishai. The cleric stared, his mouth agape. “Never harm another dragon?” he exclaimed. “So if an evil red dragon is attacking innocent villagers we just have to stand by and do nothing?” The tabaxi, who styled herself a bit of a negotiator, approached the abishai with a placating manner. “That’s entirely unreasonable,” she said, “especially for such a small service being rendered. How about we agree to harm no dragons for the next year?” “Five years,” countered the abishai, as I had instructed. “How about we will not harm a dragon [B]in its lair[/B] for five years, or steal from a dragon’s lair, or even seek out a dragon’s lair. But if a dragon leaves its lair to attack a city or something then its fair game.” “Done,” agreed the abishai. “Each of you must swear it in blood.” That’s not technically true. Any deal with a devil is binding, but in situations with multiple individuals involved and promises that will last for years, it can help to have some metric of acceptance. A signature, if you will, to present as proof in case of challenges to the agreement. After debating the benefits and drawbacks of the deal, the four of them agreed that they had no other way of retrieving the elf queen’s weapon, and that they were wealthy enough that they wouldn’t need to track down any dragons. They each spilled a drop of blood for the abishai, and in exchange the devil gave them a totem with which to call ‘the only one who could help them’ (guess who). I subconsciously registered the 500 souls I had paid to Tiamat returning to my domain upon the conclusion of the mortals’ deal. It turns out that dragon queens are far more willing to lend their servants to a task for free if that task directly advances their interests. I hope it isn’t too boastful to say that I am a very skilled negotiator. I will also point out that the totem the abishai gave to the wizard was not my personal amulet. How stupid do you think I am? No, it was merely a carved piece of wood with no magical properties whatsoever. But mortals like having physical things to focus their spells. I probably did too, once upon a time. [/QUOTE]
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