Chapter Text
While the immediate vicinity of the Lower City gate was a sort of vague clear area, which connected straight into the thoroughfare to the Battlebliss Arena, the area around the Middle City end of the same gate passage was more of a square – one which even had something like a decorative water feature, though since this was Alushinyrra the 'water' in the feature was glowing hot lava that flowed down a metal-lined channel covered over with ornate grating.
Arueshalae pointed them to an exit of the square, then as they crossed it there was a sudden ripple of movement in the crowd.
Demons and visitors scattered, sensing the sudden risk of violence, and within moments vrocks, mariliths and kalavakuses formed a half-circle around Juniper and her companions.
"What's this?" Ulbrig demanded.
"This would appear to be an ambush," Regill said, glancing at Arueshalae.
"I swear – this is nothing to do with me," Arueshalae defended herself.
"I believe you," Juniper assured her straight away – and truthfully, and for reasons besides the simple fact that she felt Arueshalae had earned a great deal of trust.
Ambush or not, it didn't quite make sense if it had been done with Arueshalae's connivance.
Juniper had been the one to pick the way they'd climbed from Lower City to Middle, but Arueshalae had known about that ahead of time – and an ambush Arueshalae had been involved with setting up would have taken place right there, before the whole group had reassembled.
It was always possible that that kind of detail was part of an elaborate scheme to try and maintain trust in a double agent, but if you started thinking that way you'd never stop… and you'd also conclude that Regill Derenge was a golem.
"Well, this has gone well so far," Daeran drawled, then made an interested noise as a demon stepped up between two of the kalavakuses. "Oh?"
"A mortal with mythic abilities," the demon said, sounding calm and self-assured.
He was one of the more humanoid types, probably a cambion but perhaps an incubus or similar. He looked frail and sickly next to the entourage he'd gathered to threaten Juniper and her allies, but he also clearly felt himself to be fully in control of the situation.
"Where?" Woljif asked.
"Amusing," the demon stated, making it clear he was lying. "How fortunate that you have made your way to the Abyss… moreover, you have come to Alushinyrra, which makes things even more convenient for me. Yes… what a stroke of luck."
He smiled, slightly. "You see, I need you to be my test subject."
"Ohh, I get it," Aivu said, nodding. "This is someone who thinks he's more scary than you!"
"Who am I speaking to?" Juniper asked.
The demon… paused, remaining silent for a long moment.
"I… am Mutasafen," he said, eventually.
"Never heard of you," Ulbrig declared cheerfully.
"I would be surprised if you had, mortal," Mutasafen countered. "You are beneath me."
"Shows what you know," Ulbrig replied. "You wouldn't say that if I was flying overhead, would you?"
Juniper was frowning, and she focused her attention slightly.
A pair of glasses shimmered on her muzzle for a moment, as Falconeyes came to the fore, then she blinked away the aeon's sight again.
Two of the demons were mythic… and there was something even stranger about Mutasafen.
"You must be important to someone," she said. "Besides yourself, I mean. Hepzamirah, perhaps?"
"...yes," Mutasafen said, after a moment. "I am, at present, Hepzamirah's most trusted alchemist, and I am on an urgent mission for her. Perhaps you can even guess what it is… Xanthir Vang was working on something similar in your Worldwound."
"Be wary, Champion," the Hand said. "If this is the latest one set to conduct the transmutation experiments, he will be high up indeed in Hepzamirah's counsel."
"Of course, it was a mistake to entrust such work to someone who wasn't a demon," Mutasafen said, at the same time. "He did not fully appreciate the honour he had been given… no wonder his enhanced demons couldn't protect him. But – it doesn't matter."
The demon shrugged. "I am superior to him in all respects, and I keep better pets."
"Greetings, fellow scientist!" Nenio said, waving. "May I ask, what is your speciality? What experiments do you undertake at work, and in your spare time? Would you like to conduct a joint experiment with me?"
Mutasafen spared her a glance.
"Piss off," he said.
Nenio looked dismayed, and Juniper tilted her head slightly.
"What, exactly, is it about transmutation that makes it so that all the people Hepzamirah has trying to perform it are so unhappy?" she asked. "Areelu Vorlesh seemed pleased enough with herself, but Xanthir Vang was so annoyed by his underlings that he positively welcomed death, and you sound like a functionary trying to win a debate on the relative value of a stack of paper – one which you dearly wish had been concluded forty years ago with your own demise."
"I have to agree, my dear," Daeran contributed. "Anyone who actually knew who you were would have to know how dangerous you are, and yet – here he is, utterly unaware of that. Unless he's just stupid."
"An amusing insult," Mutasafen said, his tone illustrating that he had no such opinion. "You completely misapprehend the situation. I am in absolutely no danger."
"I disagree with your assessment," Regill noted, his tone almost courteous.
"You need me for a test subject, or so you say," Juniper mused, thinking. "But why? If you're going to be working on transmutation, I don't know enough to do it and I wouldn't tell you anyway."
"Your compliance is irrelevant," Mutasafen shrugged. "You are to be something to study. Take apart. Test."
The passion that had been missing in his voice until now made an appearance. "You see, I actually like you very much, though I doubt my way of expressing it will bring you much enjoyment… I'm afraid the demons you've met previously have given you the wrong impression about our kind. You-"
Juniper laughed.
"Sorry about that," she said, shaking her head. "I just… I wasn't expecting that."
Mutasafen looked at her levelly.
"Explain?" he asked.
"I don't doubt that you consider yourself to be different to most demons," Juniper explained. "And I'd hardly think that all demons are the same – Arueshalae is just one example of how different they can be. But if you're trying to argue that almost every other demon is the anomaly, and you are the standard, then that's just… incorrect."
She waved her paw a little. "But, please, go on…"
"You may think we only want to poison or destroy, especially when it comes to crusaders and their leaders," Mutasafen resumed.
"Imagine," Daeran drawled. "Who could possibly form such a dreadful misconception? What could possibly lead to that? Perhaps it's all the poisoning and destruction?"
Then he shook his head, tutting. "No, no, how silly of me. I forgot the mockery."
"I'd think you would know about mockery," Ulbrig pointed out.
"I am not like other demons," Mutasafen continued. "I am a different breed… I love everything that is new, unexplored, untested. And I'm quite sure that if I get something of your blood and tissue, I can create something new and unique from them."
Juniper didn't actually put her hand on Finnean's hilt, but that was mostly because she didn't need to. Her paw tingled as she got ready to call the living weapon to her, because she could tell that Mutasafen was quite willing to resort to violence – and, while he might not be willing to risk himself, his claim of not being in danger had been quite sincere.
"Angels, for example, make excellent fuel for our machines," Mutasafen said. "And I've heard you sometimes show an angel's powers… but not always. What uses could be found for such an unusual mortal?"
"I don't normally like biting demons!" Aivu announced, flaring her wings. "But this one's different! I'd sure like to chomp down on him right now!"
Juniper shook her head, glancing from side to side as she did to check on her companions.
Everyone was as ready as they could be, tensed for action, and a glow of light was in her heart.
"So… just so we're absolutely clear, you are about to attack me, right?" she asked.
"I was hoping you'd surrender, but there's a reason I brought all this muscle," Mutasafen said. "Let's get started, shall we?"
He gestured. "Servants! You don't have to take this one alive. I just need the body."
The demons lunged forwards, and Mirala came to the fore. Finnean materialized in her paw, becoming a spear, and she stabbed out with him towards the nearest kalavakus as it tried to ensnare her soul.
That went poorly, and a moment later Mirala tossed Finnean to her left paw as she drew Radiance with her right. Both weapons flared with holy light as she called on the memory of Lariel's sword, and Finnean changed from spear to starknife so she could use him as a bladed shield – then murmured a prayer, guided by Lariel's memory more than her own, and sunset's light pulsed out in the perpetual gloom of Alushinyrra like a beacon to shield her allies from anything that might sap at their strength.
To her left, Woljif and Regill had both begun fighting the same marilith, using Regill's hammer and armour to keep the demon's six blades away from Woljif while the tiefling cast a spell. That produced a burst of sizzling acid the moment he finished, which splashed over the demon and Regill but only hurt the former.
Then Mirala was dealing with a vrock, one enhanced with powers that gave it control over electricity, and she raised Finnean to deflect away a kinetic blast of lightning. The attack fizzed over Finnean's metal, drawing the attack away, and he hissed.
"Ow!" he said. "That tingles!"
Mirala took a swift step forwards, stabbing out with Radiance, and the demon retreated. It flapped its wings as it took to the air, bombarding the area with a larger and wider pulse of electricity that all the demons could ignore but which hit her companions, and Aivu yelped before taking off and blasting the vrock with a wave of sound.
The dragon dodged out of the way a moment later, just before the vrock retaliated with another lightning bolt, and Arueshalae shot the demon with a pair of arrows.
Surging to the side, Mirala bundled up all her tails at once and used them as a counterweight – bolstering and adding momentum to a stab, as she drove Radiance through the side of the second marilith.
It thrashed in reply, keening and swiping out at Mirala with three of the six swords it was carrying, and she parried two with Finnean and Radiance as the third swished over her head.
Then Ulbrig managed to slip past the other three blades to grab it by the tail, adjusting his footing slightly, and flicked his head up-and-around. The whole marilith rose into the air, circling, then crashed into the ground with bone-shattering force.
Stepping back to her position in the line, Mirala considered the merits of her plan – then had a realization.
"Daeran!" she called. "Flame Strike that Vrock!"
"Manners, please!" Daeran called back, then a blast of flame hit the demon.
And so did a bolt of heavenly light, as Mirala called one down under the cover of Daeran's attack.
The combination hit the vrock far harder than Daeran's spell alone would have done, and more importantly it struck the vrock down out of the sky – forcing it to crash down to the stone and iron of the open plaza in a cloud of feathers.
Mirala stepped forwards and drove Radiance into the mythic demon's neck, slaying it efficiently, then a flask came flying in her direction from Mutasafen and she raised Finnean to deflect it.
The bomb's fragile glass casing ruptured and the alchemical mixture detonated, making Finnean yelp in shock, and Mirala glanced around for a moment to make sure how everyone else was doing.
Nenio had just finished using a deadly illusion spell to kill one of the kalavakuses, while Woljif was lining up to catch the remaining marilith somewhere it couldn't easily defend itself, and Daeran was healing Arueshalae after a dying vrock had crashed into her. Overhead, Ulbrig and Aivu were tag-teaming the remaining two flying demons, and a kalavakus who'd clearly been part of the ambush team was turning to run for it.
Mirala could have stopped him, but let him go – her business was with Mutasafen, and she murmured a prayer to infuse both Finnean and Radiance with further holy magic.
Sunlight flowed around her like a corona, and Mutasafen quickly drank a potion that enhanced his strength in reply. He lashed out at her with a quarterstaff, unnatural strength and speed bolstering him, but Mirala saw the blow coming in time and shifted Finnean from starknife to staff.
Their weapons clashed in a three-point intersection, and Mutasafen examined her up close for a moment.
"Fascinating," he said. "That's a real halo! I can feel it burning my skin just from proximity!"
Adjusting her weight, Mirala spread her eight glittering tails out in two bundles of four to either side. She pushed against Mutasafen's strength, and he held her in place – then all eight tails whipped back behind her, and she used the counterweights a second time to push harder.
Mutasafen half-tripped half-rolled backwards, his reflexes enhanced by the alchemical drug pulsing in his veins, and threw a whole cluster of bombs at Mirala at once. There was a crash as they all went off, just as Mirala invoked a spell of protection and warding and shielded herself with a wave of solar light.
An arrow from Arueshalae snapped past her shoulder, hitting Mutasafen as he reached for another potion, then Mirala drove Radiance through the demon's breast.
Mutasafen coughed, reaching up for the weapon, then collapsed backwards off the blade.
Mirala glanced back, to make sure everyone was all right, then relaxed.
Juniper cast a cantrip, clearing off what little blood had stayed on Radiance, then sheathed Yaniel's old sword. Finnean went back to her belt a moment later, and she frowned.
"That's… worrying," she said.
"What is?" Woljif asked. "We just wiped the floor with them!"
"Mutasafen knew who I was – who we are," Juniper explained, as Ulbrig landed next to her and transformed back.
"You all right, warchief?" he checked. "I was busy with those vulture demons, but you seemed to have it all in hand."
"I'm fine," Juniper concurred. "Some scratches, nothing more. Mostly from those grenades."
"Do we continue disguising our identity?" Regill checked. "I would assume so."
"Yes, the fact that some of our enemies know my real identity isn't the same as everyone knowing," Juniper replied. "I keep coming back to the size of Alushinyrra… and I'd rather not have to face the prospect of most of the city being willing to turn me in for some kind of bounty. So long as our reputation for lethal violence stays ahead of the general knowledge of our presence, we should be all right."
"Champion!" the Hand warned. "Look well in the other direction of the gate!"
Juniper looked up, and saw exactly what he meant.
A sight she recognized, a demonic agglomeration wielding a scythe. The first servant of the first invader of Sarkoris.
The Echo of Deskari.
"I heard your toy soldier crusaders had taken over the Midnight Fane and the rift located there," the Echo said, voice shifting in tone constantly between youth and age, but maintaining a continuous stern, ominous quality. "But I never thought you'd have the nerve to descend into the Abyss."
The derakni chuckled. "I assumed you'd block the underground passages, put guards out by the rubble, and sit there shaking, waiting for someone to attack you again."
"That didn't seem like a good strategic plan," Juniper replied, with a shrug.
"Champion, be cautious," the Hand said.
His voice trembled with a rage that was out-of-place on the normally serene angel. "The Echo of Deskari cannot see or hear me, but he will pounce if he knows I am here. He hates everything related to Iomedae."
"Strategy," the Echo laughed. "Call it that if you want."
Juniper adjusted her footing a little, taking in the surroundings.
If this was going to be a fight, it would be a much more serious one than the one against Mutasafen – she'd need to be fully aware of the possibilities offered by everything around them.
"What do you want from me, Echo?" she asked.
"It may surprise you, but – nothing," the Echo declared. "You overstate your importance, mortal."
He sneered. "You probably think your victories in Drezen and the Midnight Fane have dealt us a fatal blow, don't you? But my lord's hordes are endless, and there are other rifts in the Wound that will serve our purpose when the hour comes. So no, I did not come here for you, mortal."
Daeran made a polite scoffing sound.
"So, after being defeated in Kenabres, Drezen, the Midnight Fane… oh, and having spent how many decades when the time hadn't come? Suddenly these places are insignificant. How convenient for you!"
"Look back across the history of the crusades," the Echo retorted. "And remember how many times you have been defeated. Remember how Sarkoris burned.A few scattered victories mean nothing… no, I was looking for Mutasafen. I need to speak with him. Stumbling upon you is a mere accident."
"And I can believe as much of that as I wish," Juniper said, under her breath, then spoke up. "It's a shame I killed him."
"You did not," the Echo remarked, with indifference in his ever-shifting voice. "Mutafasen cannot be killed… at least, not by conventional methods. He's probably groveling at Hepzamirah's feet by now, begging her not to punish him for wasting a few demons on such a stupid escapade."
He chuckled. "She will not be happy about that. Oh no, she most certainly will not."
"His problems leave me indifferent," Juniper countered. "So, what did you need him for?"
"Do I really need to answer that?" the Echo asked. "Well, I suppose there's no harm… Mutasafen is clever enough to work with Nahyndrian crystals. And he is a demon. We can finally stop using former mortals like Xanthir and Areelu as servants."
The mere idea clearly filled the Echo with contempt.
"If I'd known killing him would interefere with your plans, I'm sure I'd have tried to do it more permanently," Juniper replied, with a shrug.
"I wonder if it's like a fey thing?" Ulbrig asked, half to himself. "They say there's fey who you can't kill unless you do it the right way…"
"The paths of evil can be a strange labyrinth," the Hand said, in contemplation. "They are not always rational or straightforward. The Echo of Deskari himself could once have been considered mortal… after all, the demon lord molded him from the souls of many mortal followers. Yet, despite his origins, he still despises Xanthir and Areelu."
"So to be clear," Juniper began, breaking the tense silence that had been in place while the Hand was speaking to her. "You're proud of the fact that a pure demon has finally reached the point of being able to copy what Aeelu Vorlesh has done? After she's told him, of course."
The Echo buzzed his wings. "Mutasafen will shortly surpass her, I am sure."
"I very much doubt that!" Nenio declared. "In my recent encounter with him, the demon displayed a shameful lack of interest in collaboration! While a single brilliant scientist can often advance knowledge far beyond what would otherwise be achieved, true mastery and progress comes from working and building off the work of others."
She flicked an ear. "I would say that it is like looking further by standing on the shoulders of giants, but giants actually make poor platforms for long distance observation. They try very hard to throw you off… hmm. I should try that again some time, now that I have the benefit of a tail for balance!"
That particular statement seemed to actually break through the Echo's armour of contempt, and he blinked a few times.
"...you… did not have a tail before?" he asked.
"I forgot about it," Nenio shrugged. "It was inefficient to remember such trivialities."
"Though that does remind me," Juniper noted. "Where is Eliandra?"
The Echo seemed perversely grateful for Juniper's question, as it put them back on something resembling what he expected from the conversation.
"I will say only one thing," he said. "My victim is still alive. But so much time has passed… I'll allow you to imagine the rest."
Juniper could, all too well, and she clenched her paw.
"I don't doubt you have a means to get out of here," she said. "We're both guests in Alushinyrra. Unless you have a reason to fight… we won't."
"Commander?" Regill asked.
"Begone," the Echo said, waving a hand. "And hope we do not meet again. You will still perish in the Abyss, but death by my hand will be far, far more painful than any other possible demise you might suffer here."
The Echo remained a moment longer, then left down the same street he'd arrived by, and Juniper exhaled slightly.
"Good," she said.
"Worried about the fight?" Woljif checked. "'cause I was."
"Somewhat, but there's more to it than that," Juniper replied. "Because, unless I miss my guess… if he's here, in Alushinyrra, he probably has a lair somewhere nearby."
She glanced at the Hand. "And that's where Eliandra will be, I'd think – his prize trophy."
"You are thinking to find the Echo's location?" the Hand asked.
"Not by myself," Juniper replied. "I'm too visible… we'll have to discuss it with Targona back at the Nexus. There's plenty of things to task her with, and we have to focus on priorities."
"I believe I understand, Commander," Regill said. "You are assuming that Targona may be able to follow the Echo of Deskari back to his lair. Correct?"
"That's part of it," Juniper confirmed. "Though another part is – well."
She glanced at the Hand. "Do you know why he revealed himself?"
"I do not," the Hand apologized. "He is an old enemy of mine, both vile and cunning… I do not understand his purpose, but I fear it is unlikely that he would come here just to gloat."
"That's my thinking as well," Juniper said. "He might have actually been hoping that I'd decide to stay out of Alushinyrra, but that's just a guess and not one I want to depend on… ultimately all we can really do is take this information into account."
"Oh, you mean we're not going to go home, bury the portal to the Abyss and sit around waiting for something to happen?" Daeran asked, sounding quite disappointed.
"Correct," Juniper confirmed, with a nod. "We did actually find out several important details just now… Mutafasen certainly seems to be the latest person able to conduct Transmutation, and that means that Hepzamirah is going to be able to start producing mythic demons. If she hasn't already."
She shrugged. "If we went back home, I suspect the next thing that would happen is an invasion of mythic demons – what was previously a worry is now a confirmed threat. On the plus side, such an army won't be built quickly, since mining out the new crystals is going to take time. The transmutation process itself, as we saw at the Ivory Sanctum, is quick… the crystals are the limiting factor, and mining out the entire Nexus didn't give them enough for an overwhelming offensive."
"A reasonable inference," Regill nodded. "In effect, our foes having a new transmuter now or in several months is roughly comparable, except that we may find ourselves facing mythic demons trying to stymie our investigation."
"So… are we going to do what we were plannin' on?" Woljif checked, looking up from where he'd been looting Mutafasen's body. "'cause I could lie and say this has been fun, but we were doing something, right?"
"This way," Arueshalae said, pointing. "If we're moving on, that is?"
"I see no reason not to," Juniper decided.
Now that they weren't being distracted by the sudden appearance of a possibly-suicidal demonic alchemist, Juniper could get a proper look at the Middle City and assess it – not just the architecture, but the more social details as well.
The Lower City had been squalid and full of demons begging in the streets. The Middle City, meanwhile, still had demons and other citizens travelling around on errands or standing and talking in the streets, but they were generally engaged in something other than begging or hunting for targets in a predatory fashion.
Juniper heard rumours, political and otherwise, and the occasional argument between Deskarites, Baphomites and those whose loyalty was first to Nocticula. She saw public statues that wouldn't have been out of place on Golarion, except for the fact they depicted a nude succubus demon lord, and the occasional business advertizing wares like enchanted jewellery or torture devices.
There was another point of interest, as well. While the Lower City was built in a continuous way, the Middle City had no such benefit of being built on solid ground. It was almost as large in terms of total area encompassed, but the actual built environment was much smaller.
Consequently, neighbourhoods were effectively floating by themselves on islands that hung in the air, connected only by thin bridges of floating rock or pavement or tiled stone. And the streets were universally of a higher quality than the Lower City, showing more craft or aesthetic sense had gone into making or designing them, but there was no real consistent pattern as to what was where.
A street might be paved in brick at first, then that would change to a single slab of tough stone inlaid with iron, before becoming tiled.
But more than anything else, there were the slaves.
They were all over the Middle City, immediately obvious from the enchanted collars they wore – collars much like the ones found on the giants in the Nexus. Collars that gave their designated owners power to punish or even kill them at will, and sometimes enchanted with other, harsher, measures of control.
"Hey!" a cambion shouted. "Isn't that Duster, the Mephit Slayer?"
"The what?" Daeran asked, amused. "Do they mean you?"
"They do," Juniper agreed. "An amusem*nt from Irmangaleth."
She glanced at the cambion. "Any more insights?"
"You're a feisty one, aren't you?" the demon asked. "I like it! But – a word of advice, okay? Don't look at the slaves like that."
He chuckled, unpleasantly. "Some owners don't like their property speaking to anyone else."
"An unusually altruistic comment, from a demon," Junier said. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"
That got her another laugh.
"No, no, I want you to ignore my advice," the cambion said. "As soon as possible! That way I'll get to see a proper fight, won't I?"
Juniper shook her head.
"I'll have to disappoint you," she said. "I've already been involved in mayhem in the last few hours, and if I got involved in too much of it I'd never get anything done."
"Ooh," the cambion muttered, disappointed. "Well – it's neat to see you up close, anyway. And you have such an entourage!"
His gaze flicked from one of her companions to another, alighting on Arueshalae. "A succubus in that much clothing… mortals really do have strange tastes…"
Juniper shrugged, moving along in the same direction they'd been going.
"Well, that was odd," Ulbrig muttered. "At least this idea to get well known is working, then."
"Quite," Juniper agreed, then frowned for a moment.
Their path was taking them into a cul-de-sac, and she looked up at the wall rising overhead before realizing what was going on – Arueshalae might have just flown over the wall, if she'd been by herself, but there was a small portal visible at the end of the cul-de-sac. Different to the portal arches, much weaker than the rifts in the Fane, it would be a short-range way of getting from one part of the Middle City to another nearby part of the Middle City.
She'd been worried that Arueshalae would forget they didn't all have wings, or that they'd have to fly up the wall, but if she guessed right the portal was how they'd do it instead.
Getting lost in Alushinyrra seemed very easy.
Despite Juniper's wishes to not have to fight her way through Alushinyrra, it seemed that not every demon in the city had yet heard of her time in the arena – or, if they had heard of her, it was in the 'Mephit Slayer' context rather than a full understanding of how dangerous Olivie (and, by extension, the rest of Juniper) could really be.
That led to a brief and vicious fight when a group of demons including two lilitu and a powerful gallu decided that Juniper had been eavesdropping simply by getting close enough to hear their complaints about how many mortals were in Alushinyrra, ending with the demons all slain on the floor.
"Now that was something I could appreciate," Daeran said, as he healed Woljif's arm from some minor burns caused by the gallu's magic. "Lilitu demons have a special place in my heart; I enjoy watching them die."
He glanced at Juniper. "It's one reason I was so disappointed by Minagho's… departure."
"Any particular reason for that?" Juniper asked.
She knew very well the reason for it, but actually explaining that would have been a catastrophically bad idea.
"Oh, you know, the usual," Daeran replied. "They were involved in a little matter of estate law I was associated with… a trifle, really. I wouldn't be myself if I didn't seek overwhelming retribution for a minor slight like that."
"No, you wouldn't," Juniper said. "Would this be the matter of estate law that ensured you inherited, say, that place where we celebrated the battle of Drezen?"
"Quite," Daeran agreed, his expression turning a little sour, then he exhaled. "A minor slight, as I say."
Arueshalae looked confused, then visibly realized what they meant and gasped slightly.
"The ones without eyes are a bit creepy, if you ask me," Ulbrig said. "I don't know where they're looking."
"At least they can't give you the evil eye," Daeran said, rallying somewhat.
"Yeah, they ain't got one," Woljif agreed.
"I assume we'll be moving on at some point, Commander?" Regill asked.
"At some point," Juniper concurred, looking around.
There was a signpost for the Ten Thousand Delights about fifty yards away, which was helpful, but there was something else about where they were standing right now that was trying to get her attention.
She looked again, turning around slowly to see if it would spark the right thought.
They were not far from a kind of cliff-edge constructed out of buildings, where the Middle City just ended and dropped into the void, not to reappear for at least a quarter of a mile. The Middle City continued to sprawl away in the distance elsewhere, though, and the ground rose to one of the well-controlled checkpoints to the Upper City. The base of the ramp leading up to the gate was less than twenty yards away, in fact, and done in ornate style with a miniature river of lava under iron grating on either side of the ramp.
The guards there looked significantly more alert than the ones at the Lower City checkpoint, so they weren't going to get into the Upper City that way – then Juniper saw what had been nagging at her.
The buildings they were standing next to were particularly tall, and in fact formed a continuous edifice that led all the way up to the Upper City. The climb would be, if anything, harder than the journey to the Middle City, but it was still useful to know.
"Huh," Caitrin said. "Nenio, mark this on a map! If you've got one. Otherwise, take a note."
"What is it, girl?" Nenio asked.
Caitrin made a flourish. "This is a perfect spot for social climbers!"
Daeran looked up, then gave a genteel little round of applause.
"Did you really take control just for that joke?" Regill asked, his expression distinctly unimpressed.
"I could hardly tell that joke somewhere else," Caitrin replied, with a shrug. "And we're here now, aren't we?"
Juniper had been to the Ten Thousand Delights once before – or, rather, Olivie had been once before – but she'd arrived by the arch inside the building, led there by Yozz, and so she'd never actually seen the outside.
It was a curious example of advertising.
The expansive building had no gaudy decorations on the outside specific to what it was, marked in and of itself with nothing more than a plaque on the beautifully decorated door set in tasteful surrounds, but it did have a pair of succubi striking poses by the door.
"Come to the Ten Thousand Delights, baby!" one called. "You won't regret it!"
"Your forbidden fantasies will all come true in the Ten Thousand Delights," the other added. "You will always remember your visit with shame and excitement."
"Forbidden," Juniper repeated, tasting the word on her tongue. "What an interesting word to use."
"Why's that?" Aivu asked. "Why forbidden, especially?"
"Because a forbidden fantasy is one which you're not allowed," Juniper explained. "Either legally, or culturally… and the mention of shame is interesting as well. In both cases, what it means is that the demons and other customers of the Ten Thousand Delights are expected to have a sense of ethical and moral right, and that that sense is consistent."
Regill was frowning, which was normal, but it looked more thoughtful than was typical for the gnome.
"I had not considered that, but you are correct," he said. "I am unsure how to use this information, but it is interesting."
"Well, of course!" Daeran said, airily. "How exactly are demons supposed to enjoy a guilty pleasure without knowing what to feel guilty about?"
"I understand the principle," Juniper conceded. "It's just that it's… interesting."
She glanced at Arueshalae. "Do you have any insight?"
"I think… I think before, I would have just thought of that kind of announcement as a dare," Arueshalae said. "Challenging those walking past to enjoy themselves, in gleeful mockery of what those on other planes would view as forbidden… but I never would have considered the shame side of things."
She shrugged, apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't really know."
"That's okay, Arueshalae," Juniper assured her. "I was mostly curious… though it might touch on your own thoughts, as well. After all – shame is the feeling of knowing you are doing something that you are embarrassed by. And if enough demons feel that to make it a point of discussion for the Ten Thousand Delights – you might not be so alone as you would otherwise expect, after all."
Arueshalae nodded her understanding, and Juniper stepped forwards – between the succubi, to the door of the Ten Thousand Delights.
It looked impregnable to attack, and a small inscription declared that it was a gift from Vellexia the Wonderful to Chivarro the Beautiful.
Vellexia was a name Juniper had run into before, once from the Storyteller and then more recently from Bhurgaz, and in both cases it was a name to be wary of… someone who had been at the top of Alushinyrran society for thousands of years could hardly be anything if they were not very dangerous.
When she tried the handle, though, it did not budge.
"Curious," Juniper murmured. "You would think they'd appreciate customers."
"Get your hands off my handle, you vagrant!" a stern voice said – a voice coming from the door itself. "This is a place for respectable citizens, not restless beggars."
"A talking door?" Woljif asked, surprised. "Cor, that would trip me up."
"Better a door than a dolt!" the door giggled. "Lady Vellexia had a hand in my creation after her rest in the Ten Thousand Delights was disturbed by an overzealous admirer. She presented me to Madam Chivarro to keep out the rabble."
"Mr. Door, sir!" Nenio said. "May I ask you a few questions?"
She produced a scroll. "I am interested in your expert opinion. How do you feel about the political and social situation in Alushinyrra?"
The door made a creaking noise. "Same old, same old, really. We have more and more beggars in the back alleys, and fewer and fewer clients in the brothel. Shamira struts around the city like a princess, nose in the air, demanding that red carpets be unrolled wherever she deigns to step. Meanwhile, Nocticula has holed up in her palace and doesn't seem to give a rat's ass about the hardships of the working class."
There was a sound like a heavy sigh, as played by someone whistling through a keyhole. "Life's pretty terrible, really."
"Thank you, Mr. Door," Nenio said, then caught Juniper's eye. "I have reached a conclusion! This door's thought processes align with those of the lower classes, while his internal support of the status quo and love of gossip demonstrate his natural aptitude for gatekeeping."
"You're not going to say he's a-door-able, are you?" Daeran asked. "That's such a low effort pun! At least say that, as he's part of a brothel, he must appreciate a pair of knockers."
Nenio gave him a vaguely confused glance, then shrugged and continued. "In short, from this we can conclude this is not an artificially created golem, but a living individual transformed into a door."
"I…" Finnean began, sounding sick. "I'm going to… you shouldn't even exist, this is wrong! This should never happen… this cursed dark magic, it's too dangerous…"
"Easy, Finnean," Juniper reassured him, glancing down, then returned her regard to the door.
It looked solid and sturdy, and was clearly enchanted… Vellexia would have had every reason to make the door at least reasonably durable.
"I take it you're not letting me in, then?" Juniper asked.
"Of course not!" the door said, sounding offended. "Do I recognize you? No! You're clearly just up from the Lower City and have a complete lack of class."
"Listen, you!" Woljif snapped. "This city's supposed to be where anarchy, chaos, and freedom reign supreme, but all I see is another bunch of rich jerks usin' their lackeys to keep the poor at arm's length!"
"I quite agree," Daeran provided. "Arm's length is clearly too close, you can smell them."
"Now that sounds more like a Camellia kind of thing to say," Juniper observed. "Been borrowing material?"
Daeran made a dismissive gesture. "Sometimes I work with what I get."
For his part, Woljif was still going. "You should be ashamed at not lettin' us in! You're not demons, you're... sheep, that's what you are!"
Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "That's it. I've hit rock bottom, bickering with a door… boss, can't I just pick the lock?"
"Honestly, I'm surprised you don't recognize me," Caitrin said, tilting her head a little and flicking her ears expressively. "You don't know who I am?"
"No, I just said," the door replied.
"Well, I've been here before," Caitrin declared. "And I was welcomed quite well, so you must be mistaken. Are you sure there's not something wrong with you?"
She reached behind her and patted Aivu's head. "How could you fail to recognize someone accompanied by a dragon?"
"Huh?" the door asked. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, I see what it is," Caitrin declared. "You see, last time the dragon was quite a bit smaller, that must be it. But you really should make sure you pay attention – after all, if you're going to turn away people who Chivarro would rather not see, aren't you going to be better served by making sure that you don't not permit the people who Chivarro would rather not avoid seeing into the Ten Thousand Delights? Or not?"
"Umm…" the door began.
"Here we go again…" Regill muttered, and Caitrin glanced to the side.
Then smirked.
"Besides," she added. "Can't you see how urgent this is?"
"Urgent?" the door asked.
"Actually, can you see at all?" Caitrin added. "I want to look you in the eye when I'm talking to you but I simply can't see where that is. It's very difficult to handle but I suppose nothing actually hinges on it… but as I was saying before I got distracted, this is very urgent!"
She waved a paw at Regill. "Look at this poor gnome! Can't you see how very jaded he is by everything else that can be found in the Abyss? On a purely experimental and scientific level, surely there's no way you could possibly decide against this gnome's participation in whatever very inventive forms of debauchery would be necessary in order to recolour that sadly bleached hair?"
Regill's expression could have called down thunder from a cloudless sky.
"And, beyond all that, how do you know I'm not here for a job interview?" Caitrin added. "I mean, look at me, how can you tell me that this isn't the result of a succubus taking on a disguise? Don't I not look like a succubus?"
"You… don't look like a succubus?" the door said, now completely lost.
"That's why it's such a good disguise," Caitrin said. "I'm collecting door to door, and you're a door, but I really need to collect from other doors as well. I've heard there are doors inside, so if you'd be so kind as to unlatch that would be very much appreciated."
The door was silent for several seconds, and Caitrin rummaged around in her bag.
Eventually unearthing the key from Blackwater, which was now totally useless owing to the fact that all the doors it unlocked had been melted down for skymetal, Caitrin twirled it in her paws.
"Door?" she said. "See this? This is a key. It's mine, and I'm making a gift of it to you. Congratulations!"
She pushed it into the lock, and twisted it. There was a faint click, and the door unlocked.
"What?" the door asked. "How did you-"
"Did I, or did I not, just use your key to unlock you?" Caitrin demanded. "Really, what kind of door would you be if you didn't unlock for your key? And this is certainly your key, since I just gave it to you. I don't understand what you could possibly be confused about."
The succubus hawkers were both still trying to work out what Caitrin had meant back when she'd been talking about Aivu.
The inside of the Ten Thousand Delights looked roughly as it had back when Olivie had visited, months ago, and Juniper quickly scanned the lobby looking for differences.
As before, it was an expansive room, with plentiful doors – some of them just ajar, showing plushly appointed rooms behind them, others closed and anonymous, and Juniper knew there were corridors that led onwards to more and more rooms for every kind of pleasurable activity.
The assemblage of people present was different, as well, a flow of possible clients and recurring clients being tempted by some of the prostitutes present or negotiating to access the more exotic treasures of the expansive brothel.
"Well," Ulbrig said, blinking. "This is… quite a place."
He frowned. "I understand how this works, but I don't… understand it, not really."
Daeran made a humming noise.
"...no, makes no more sense the second time I think about it," he said. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" Ulbrig began, waving his hand. "I mean, what's the point of all this? I get the idea, you pay for sex, but… doesn't that cheapen it? In a manner of speaking."
"They don't care, here," Arueshalae said. "It's purely physical pleasure that they seek."
"I don't think it's just that," Juniper amended. "As we just discussed, they do like the idea of doing shameful things – it's a point of pride, as it were."
She tapped a paw on the floor, trying to think about how to phrase what she wanted to say, then drifted over to the side a little so they weren't in the way so much. "Sex work, in itself, isn't actually a negative thing – it could even be considered positive."
"Really?" Woljif asked, eyes bright. "You hear that? We're doing somethin' good if we-"
Juniper held up her paw.
"I wasn't finished, I'm afraid," she said. "There's several possible issues that can get in the way of that. One of them, the one most likely to be found on Golarion, is the coercive power structures involved – which means that the people actually making the decisions aren't the same as the ones whose bodies are being sold for carnal performances."
She flicked a tail. "Then there's the cases where what's going on is not merely the pursuit of pleasure but the pursuit of – well, violating taboos for the sake of it. Or where the specific activity someone is buying is incompatible with morality for other reasons – which comes back to the coercive power structures."
"But none of that is goin' on here, right?" Woljif said. "Except for the bit about taboos, I guess, but does that really matter?"
"I'm getting there," Juniper told him. "Because what's going on here is that something which is… inoffensive in principle has been twisted in all sorts of ways to encourage and promote negative behaviour. Because, yes, the Ten Thousand Delights does get involved in coercive power structures – it would be absolutely incredible if it didn't, given what it is and where it is and the large slave market in the same city. They just don't generally put the slaves out in the lobby – there's an archway over there, it would be far too easy for the slaves to try and escape, and the whole point is that access to the slaves has to be purchased."
She made a gesture. "Then there's the issue of – well, addiction. Addictions aren't just chemical… I'm guessing Nenio has something about that?"
"You would be correct!" Nenio said, nodding. "According to my notes, I once gave myself a gambling addiction to find out what it was like!"
She frowned. "Of course, I do not remember what it was like, but my notes say I did, and I doubt I would make things up."
"I'm quite sure you could if you put your mind to it," Daeran suggested. "Perhaps consider it an experiment to see if-"
"No, Daeran," Juniper interrupted, quite firmly. "I'd prefer for our wizard to know the difference between right and left."
She waved a paw. "But, anyway. What I'm trying to say is – it's not that the Ten Thousand Delights is a brothel that makes me wary. It's that there's all kinds of ways that that word can cover bad things, and I have every reason to think it's doing all of them."
Ulbrig was nodding.
"Fine words, Juniper," he said. "But – tell the truth? I'm mostly wondering about why they pay for something they could get for free."
"The same reason as with any good or service – it's an exchange of money for effort," Juniper replied. "Like how it's easier to buy a bottle of wine than grow the grapes and build the press you need to make your own. That's a simplification, but there it is…"
"A difference in quality, perhaps?" Daeran asked. "Though I have to say, it's one that I actually don't want to partake in."
Regill made a gloomy noise. "This is the most dangerous place I've seen in the Abyss so far. I would rather an army of hungry demons awaited us."
"What's the problem, Reg?" Woljif asked. "Afraid to enjoy yourself, in case it spoils your colour theme?"
Regill folded his arms. "I am not afraid of fire. But I would still not run eagerly into a burning building."
"I'm quite sure that the reason you don't do such a thing is fear, isn't it?" Daeran mused. "Unless you put labels like self-preservation on it."
Aivu had been scratching her head.
"What do people do in this place anyway?" she asked. "I don't get it."
"It's okay, Aivu," Juniper told her. "It's best I explain when you're older, I think. Or maybe give you the basics when we're not actually here."
"If you need more reason why you should be wary, Woljif," Arueshalae said. "Remember – Nocticula is the demon lord who represents succubi, including their skill in subtle killing."
"Hey," one of the kalavakus guards said, coming over, then coughed. "Ah – esteemed guests. No talking politics, that's the rules. No brawling, no moderation, no talking politics."
"See what I mean?" Arueshalae asked, quietly. "Murder isn't brawling."
"Oh dear," Juniper said. "Well, I'm afraid I believe that all things should be in moderation – even moderation."
"Please tell me we aren't going to see Caitrin again so soon," Regill grumbled.
The guard had been frowning a little as he tried to puzzle out what Juniper had said, and as he did Juniper's gaze flicked to the weapon he was carrying – a little magic wand, about as big as the finger of the demon holding it – before going up to the chain around his neck.
The chain had some peculiar magic on it.
"So… what does the wand do?" she asked. "As you're a guard, I assume it's your way of dealing with those who are rowdy?"
"It's a teleportation wand," the demon replied, with some disgust. "Chivarro has grown concerned about security recently. She said something had happened, and we should expect unwanted guests."
Juniper's ears pricked up a little.
"She ordered the guards to arm themselves with these things," the demon went on. "And toss any troublemakers onto the street at the first hint of danger. Since then… ah, I no longer get any pleasure from my work. No more crushing heads, no more gutting… who are these guests who've got Chivarro so scared?"
"That depends," Juniper replied. "Among other things, it depends on how long ago she made her decision… but what about the collar? There's something magical about it?"
"That's none of your busi-" the demon began, then the collar clanked ominously as it tightened by a link.
The kalavakus gulped. "We call them politeness collars," he said, his tone much more courteous and touched with a little fear. "Chivarro ordered all the guards to wear them. If we're rude to the guests or allow them to break the rules, the collars start to tighten until we're decapitated."
"Interesting," Regill said, regarding the results. "It is apparently the only way to instil something resembling discipline in demons."
Woljif groaned.
"That's it," he said. "Once we're back on Golarion, we'll all be wearin' collars. Ol' Reggie's got himself a brilliant idea from the demons."
Regill raised an eyebrow. "I made a comment about demons. You interpreted it as applying to you personally. How very revealing."
"That's context for you," Juniper said, thinking about the association between Minagho and Chivarro.
The upcoming conversation could be very dangerous.
"Thank you for your time," she added, glancing at the guard.
"Get lost," the demon said, then looked worried as the chain collar clanked again. "I mean – have a good night."
