The man lifts his head and regards Demilich with all the cantankerousness of an aging scholar. He lifts his eyeglasses up upon the bridge of his nose and reaches into the barrel beside him.<strong>"Fill these out, in triplicate, please."</strong>The forms in question look to be written in some archaic Dales dialect, of course there are translations on an accompanying parchment but even the briefest of perusals would reveal that the convolution and redundancy within said parchments is sufficient to make even the mind of a Demonlord, of Archdevil spin.<br/><br/><strong>"When you are done with the forms take a chair. Oh, and use black ink, or blue, no red, green, or any other bright hue, it's bad on the eyes--and place your seal upon the wavers, if you have one."</strong>