Taking a deep breath and gulping down a generous swig of his beer, Azazel approached the enigmatic figure known as Thrice-All-Three, his mug in hand.
"Hi, may I sit here?" he asked.
"Certainly, feel free, no, you can't," Thrice-All-Three said with a chuckle.
Azazel paused, honestly confused by the man's contradictory response, but decided to ignore it and took a seat. "Hello, I think I should introduce myself. My name is Azazel."
"Hi, Azazel, I am Thrice-All-Three. I have a big nose, don't I?" As he spoke, he lifted a finger to his lips. "Shh! No speaking just yet. Let's take a moment to observe the next table."
Azazel did as was suggested, turning his gaze to a Dawnbringer angel and a devil engaged in a heated discussion at the adjacent table.
"A sight like this—angels and devils sharing drinks at the same table—is a rarity, isn't it? Only in Sigil could such a thing occur. Nowhere else in the universe would you witness this. Truly miraculous, praise be to the Lady. Now, young one, uh, demon or devil, what brings you to me?"
"I have a question that I hope you can answer," Azazel said, looking earnestly at Thrice-All-Three.
"Of course, I can provide answers, but you do know that if you seek knowledge from Thrice-All-Three, you must offer something in return? I don't need anything rare or extravagant, just three related, unique trinkets. I like collecting these little things."
It was an odd request, but Azazel had no choice but to comply. After a moment's thought, he pulled three coins from his pocket and laid them on the table before them—a gold coin, a silver coin, and a copper coin. These were from the prime material plane, still shiny and new.
Here, they were known by different names.
"A gold piece, a silver, and a copper," Thrice-All-Three said, picking up the coins and toying with them in his hand. The coins seemed to come alive, dancing between his fingers. "These are great little curios. You know what you've given me, but do you know why we call gold pieces 'disaster coins' and copper coins 'green angles'?"
"I thought I would be the one asking questions, but why didn't you inquire about the silver coin?"
"Ask a devil why we call silver coins 'toxic turtles'? Don't you know? Doesn't it feel like a sting when you hold a silver coin?"
Azazel recalled the sensation he had when he held the silver coin earlier and shook his head.
"Then you must be a devil with dulled senses. Do you still want to hear the tales behind these coins?"
"Please, do tell. I'm listening."
"Gold coins, gold is the root of disaster, or so they say—the root of all evil. Most people like that saying, which is why gold coins are called disaster coins. Interesting, isn't it? And as for green angles, it's because of something on you devils and demons, your sweat, or whatever. Whatever it is on you makes copper turn green. Disaster coins, toxic turtles, green angles. Gold, silver, copper. You, me, and the one who sent you to me. Three, three, and three again. Do you not see a pattern? The truth of the universe, my name, everything comes in threes," Thrice-All-Three explained, tirelessly promoting his philosophy, which was his reality.
"I think you're right," Azazel responded, then asked, "May I now ask you my question?"
"Speak, be silent, as you wish."
Azazel was momentarily confused again, but decided to ignore the odd reply and asked, "Do you know through which 'door' I can safely travel to the prime material plane?"
Thrice-All-Three grinned, his uneven yellow teeth revealing a mischievous smile as he answered, "I don't know, perhaps, I do know."
Azazel chose to focus on what he wanted to hear and ignored the rest, "Well, I'd be very grateful if you could tell me how to get there."
"I'll tell you, in light of the delightful little treasures you brought me. Normally, I would present you with three answers, one of which would lead you where you need to go, another to the exact opposite, and the last to who-knows-where. But today, I've decided you were such pleasant company, I'll only give you one answer. The correct one."
"I can't thank you enough. Before you tell me, let me buy you a drink."
"No, don't!"
"I insist. You've been such a help, it would pain me not to offer you something."
"Alright, not one, but three drinks," Thrice-All-Three spread his hands, "As per my name, the truth of the universe, everything comes in threes."