Back before they exiled me from Pandaemonium, I was many things...public speaker, social critic...and Asmodian defender, of course.

Those who didn't know me from my speeches might have sampled my cuisine--a form of artistry all too rare among our people. Here in Ishalgen, raiders like yourself must scavenge for whatever scraps you can gather. But in Pandaemonium, the Daevas feast--feast!--on sumptuous meals and potent drink.

Pandaemonium, Pandaemonium...how grand your pretensions, and how feeble your reality.

Player: "Imprisonment has made you bitter."

Bitter? Bitter! Does that make my words less true, Human?

Pandaemonium is full of graces and airs...murmurs and whispers...betrayal and lies. The Asmodian people shiver from the cold because they've lost the fire within. The older Daevas are the worst, for they've forgotten what they fight for.

Such weak thinking infuriated me. Eventually the fury of my words reached overly-sensitive ears. Rather than deal with my complaints--with my truth!--they dealt with me.

Player: "Hard to speak the truth from here, eh?"

Hard, yes. But not impossible.

Now, let's deal with something you might understand--food! Despite my...circumstances...I still have a refined palate and rarefied appetites. Luring insects close to the crystal so I can catch them is tiresome, and the resulting meal is barely tolerable.

I'd settle for simple Ishalgen fare--something like a crispy Ginseng Root, a Methu Egg, or a few Sparkie Eggs. All local delicacies I haven't eaten since the rest of the prison was abandoned.

How about it, child?

Player: "You want me to feed you?"

You'll be paid, of course. I have valuable--valuable!--items that are no use to a prisoner like myself. You can obtain the foods I crave here in Ishalgen, so you don't need to travel far.

All I'm asking for is a Ginseng Root, a Methu Egg, or a few Sparkie Eggs. You can choose whichever you wish to bring. Any of them...any of them will do.

Player: Accept.

Good. Now hurry...hurry! My mouth already longs for such fare. Too long have I had to make do with insects--or nothing at all.

Do you remember? Ginseng Root, a Methu Egg, or a few Sparkie Eggs. Nothing else will do.

Player: "You're repeating yourself. On my way!"

You've returned. I was wondering whether you'd run into trouble on your travels. It wouldn't be the first time. I've seen grown men eaten whole by some of those Ampha creatures.

What did you bring me?

Player: "Here's a Ginseng Root."

What is this? An attempt at humor?

It is unwise to anger me, child--unwise! I asked for a simple delicacy to break up the Aion-forsaken meals I otherwise stomach, and when you return, you bring nothing!

Go back...back to fetch me a Ginseng Root, a Methu Egg, or some Sparkie Eggs!

Player: "I knew I'd forgotten something...."

Ah yes, the ginseng has such a strong smell...strong!

You know the Daevas in Pandaemonium use ginseng to flavor their alcohol? And then they toss aside the root!

This is what I'm talking about--Pandaemonium and the rest of Asmodae are now worlds apart. Worlds apart! The thought of sending ginseng to the people of Ishalgen never even occurred to these "great and wondrous" beings.

I prefer ginseng eaten raw...raw! The fresh flavor is a small joy in such bleak days. Oh! Here is the reward I promised.
Ahh, Methu Egg!

A great many people think this egg tastes fishy--fishy!--when eaten raw. They go their entire life without trying it, but it's all a massive misconception spread through old folktales! Unless they're spoiled, the eggs taste fine!

You see how easy it is to influence people by planting small notions here and there? Now imagine what other misconceptions exist in Asmodian society. Those other lies...those lies aren't as harmless as fishy-tasting eggs.

I'll stop there. Thank you for bringing me this. Here, have your reward.
Sparkie eggs! Pass them here...here!

These aren't fresh at all. Sparkie eggs are supposed to be firm--firm!--and burst in your mouth when you bite into them. This one is too soft, and this other one is rotting.

A shame...but I'll shamefully admit that my palate prefers rotting eggs to fresh insects. Take this as your reward, as I promised.