As it deposited the nude and inert thin human safely outside the mansion, Mud considered the previous combat. While the first two ambushes had been incredibly successful, that might have had less to do with Mud's own skills than it had initially thought. After all, the ambush failed completely against the scarred human despite the perfect setup. The only explanation was that Mud was not a skilled ambusher, and the first two targets were simply incredibly incompetent. If all three of the intruders had been as skilled and cautious as the scarred human Mud would have been easily defeated, and all of The Masters valuables plundered.

Another unwanted discovery during that fight had been the extreme pain it experienced when its arm had been sliced off. Now that it had calmed down and assessed the situation, Mud now understood the source of the agony. Avoid being damaged and seek repair if you are injured. Those were the orders of The Master. The pain was Mud's natural response to failing to follow an order, and the panicked desperation of reabsorbing the remains of its arm was an instinctual need to fix itself. Thinking back, Mud had felt a similar mental anguish when the thick human had eaten the cracker, although much less extreme. Perhaps the difference was the relative proportion of the failure, or some other factor? Unfortunately, experimentation was impossible, since it could not intentionally defy orders to experience the pain again.

Mud closed and locked the front door, and turned its focus from the past to the future. There were countless tasks that need to be done as quickly as possible. Mud needed to improve its combat abilities so it could not be defeated by thieves, finish cleaning and organizing the house, and complete a full inventory of all of The Master's possessions. Since Mud had no idea how to get better at fighting, it decided to continue cleaning and organizing as it had been doing before the humans interrupted it. It was even possible it would find something that would make it stronger. Bursting with motivation, Mud slithered towards the basement.

At the bottom of a set of worn stone steps sat a massive iron door, held closed with a thick metal slide lock. After rolling down the stairs, Mud disengaged the lock and pushed open the heavy door.

The stone room was large, fully twice as wide as any other room in the mansion, and equally deep. Along the walls lay desks cluttered in typical Cithlar fashion with manuscripts and strange tools. Despite the assortment of curious devices on display attention was a naturally drawn to the center of the room.

A lone figure hung suspended in the air, seemingly sitting cross legged on an invisible chair. Surrounding the figure lay a complex array of shapes and symbols arranged in a circle. Each line glowed in shifting colors, casting pale light on the bored looking resident. The figure somewhat resembled a human or elven woman in their late teens or early adulthood, aside from some notable divergences. For one, a set of massive rounded wings grew from her back. They resembled Hellmoth wings Mud had found in one of the piles in the 2nd floor. Each wing was patterned with several instances of a curved five-pointed shape, resembling a spear head. From its lower back, a thick tail emerged, tipped with the same five-pointed shape. Although it was hard to be sure in the shifting light, the tail, wings, and thick and fluffy hair emerging from the creature's head all had a deep maroon tint. What is this thing?

"Are you just going to stare, or do you have something to say? How rude."

Mud considered what to do for a moment. Invaders needed to be disabled and removed from the house, but judging from the door locked from the outside, this... 'demon' was likely already here when The Master died. It might even be a possession. Communication would be ideal, but unfortunately Mud hadn't worked out how to speak. Having finished its examination of the room, Mud got to work cleaning it.

"Wha- you're just going to ignore me? A beautiful maiden is being held prisoner here!" After thinking for a moment, the demon smiled wickedly. "That bast- um, nice enchanter made you to clean up the place, didn't he? You should clean up this junk he spilled all over the floor around me.” When Mud simply continued sorting a pile of junk in the corner, the demon scowled for a moment, then smiled brightly and continued. “Actually, that reminds me! Your creator told me to pass on a message to you when I see you. The message was, 'I order you to wipe away all the magic writing on the floor of this room... as soon as possible'. Those were his exact words, yup!"

Mud paused in its task and moved towards the magic writing. If the master had ordered it, then it would be done! Just as Mud reached for the nearest marking, it remembered a certain skill it had examined when it was reading the Skill Point list.

It was possible to say something that wasn't true to trick someone into doing what you wanted them to! Considering the circumstances, it was extremely unlikely The Master had left an order like that. Mud nearly fell for this ‘deception’. But the question remained, why had this demon tried to trick it? Was it an enemy?

"Isn't it obvious? I want to get out of this stupid binding! And no, I'm not an enemy. In fact, I'm your friend, so we should help each other out."

That reply was oddly specific, almost as though the demon knew what Mud was thinking.

"It's not hard to grasp the surface thoughts of something as single minded and simple as you. Look, that's not important. How about we make a deal? Surely there are things that you want. If you let me out, I'll help you with your problems. That's a good deal, right?" The demon smiled seductively. "You've got nothing to lose and everything to gain. "

Mud pondered. Already the demon had lied to it. Any future dealings with the creature would be suspect. Since it was impossible to trust the demon, it was better to just ignore it and leave it imprisoned here for eternity. As long as Mud didn’t free it, there was probably no way for it to escape.

"Wait, eternity? Why do you seem so sure I couldn’t get Cithlar to let me out? Don't tell me- he died, didn't he? Oh blast it, I could have corrupted him if I just had a bit more time... well, probably not. That guy was a freak. Um, but if he's dead and his pet golem is planning on hiding me away... eternity might actually be..." the demons face paled and a look of dread crossed her face.

Turning towards Mud, the demon flew towards the edge of the circle and slammed her palms against an invisible wall. "Listen, I understand you can't trust me, but there's a way you can make sure I'm telling the truth. That way, we can make a deal and you can let me out of here!"

Mud continued cleaning and sorting the tools.

"In that pile over there is a book on demon summoning. Abyssal Evocation. If you can't trust me, you should at least be able to trust your creator's books, right?” Getting no reply, the demon soldiered on. “If you know my true name, I won't be able to lie to you, and we can make a fair trade. My name is... " The demon winced, and then continued in a softer voice, "...Jabraxicalicomixelwalkydoopilous."

Mud continued cleaning the room.

Sometime later when it finished, Mud used some of The Masters paper and quills and wrote out a complete inventory from memory. Neither the paper nor ink were destroyed by being used, so it was fine. Besides, using an object for its intended purpose wasn’t something that called for defending. Still, Mud wouldn’t be using any of The Master’s belongings that were destroyed with use if it could help it.

Satisfied with the job completed, Mud pulled out a certain book and started reading.

In the shifting light, a demon smiled.