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The indignation Gerald felt towards the Grand Master for having revealed their secrets was, contrary to what one would be tempted to believe, caused almost entirely by the intent behind the revelation. What angered him was not that Jillian had learned these things about him, but that the information was revealed as a means to spite them. These parts of the warlock's past were personal, certainly, and by no means things that he wanted anyone to know about, but ultimately they had no practical importance. Besides, if he was going to be teaching Jillian necromancy - or at least try to do so, if she was indeed still interested - she would inevitably come to have a much greater insight in his core nature than any amount of unveiled secrets could give her. That was one of the things he had been the most surprised about when he had been taught by the Black Tribunal's emissaries; the exercises of a fledging necromancer under the tutorage of an experienced one, when done right, laid bare their souls to one another and forced them to share their innermost beings with one another. His teachers had not been alarmed by what they had witnessed, apparently, since they kept teaching him, but Gerald's resolve to betray them had been reaffirmed greatly through the boundless greed and ambition he had witnessed in his teachers. Perhaps their lack of suspicion came from them seeing that very same greed and ambition in him? He would probably never know, and he suspected that he really was no better than them, but it did not matter. They had been a means to an end, a way to obtain necromancy in a world that abhorred it, nothing more. He needed their knowledge to acquire the skills required to fulfill his goals; he did not need [I]them[/I].
Of course he was a little worried how the witch might react to learning that the source of his necromancy was none other than the notorious Black Tribunal, and that he had tricked, used and betrayed them, but not too much; if she wanted his necromancy she had to stay regardless, and if this made her reconsider her decision to learn... well, he would be alone again, but she would never have made it through the training anyway. He would do things differently with her than the Tribunal had done with him - teach her through self-devised methods that were less macabre and cruel, but were likely to take longer time - but necromancy was a disturbing magic to learn no matter what, not to mention extremely testing in regards to one's mental, spiritual and moral fortitude. If something like this put her off, she would never be a true necromancer, and she would soon leave him anyway.
He was slightly more concerned about the revelation that Jillian had apparently killed the witch that had taught her black magic, which undeniably was at least one step worse a betrayal than he had wrought against his teachers, but hot as her temper had proven to be he doubted that she would kill without good reason. Additionally, her reaction seemed to suggest a sincere disagreement with the Grand Master's claim... but he doubted that the demon, Lord of Lies or not, would lie about this. A murder that was not a murder... an accident, then? Black magic was extremely volatile and dangerous, after all; it was only a few hours ago that she had warned him that her spells might hit themselves in addition to their intended targets. If so, he would be far less worried; necromancy was probably the [I]least[/I] volatile school of magic, and while it could kill, he had never heard of such a thing occurring accidentally.

When the Grand Master posed his demand of something to be paid in return for the information they needed, Gerald's mind was already racing before the demon had even finished his sentence, trying to work through various possibilities of what they could think to offer that would be seen as fitting recompense by the infernal salesman before them. Power demands sacrifice, after all, and for something as incredibly valuable as a means to end the Withering he suspected that the sacrifice would have to be great indeed.
His initial reaction to Jillian's hasty and arrogant reply was outrage and panic, thinking that a response like that might put the Grand Master off the deal entirely and make him refuse to bargain with them on principle unless they offered even more. [I]What did I just tell you about not being stupid, girl? You just ruined everything![/I] But as she explained just why it was that they would offer nothing for the knowledge, the withered man's expression quickly softened as he inwardly chastised himself for thinking her stupid and started wondering if she was perhaps even more insightful than he had already given her credit for.
[I]Overconfident as she may be, there is truth to what she's saying. The demon causing the Withering is not one of his servants, which means it's one of his rivals; aiding someone in obstructing this demon's work would actually be beneficial for him. This knowledge is extremely valuable, certainly, but this definitely lessens his sacrifice in revealing it.[/I]

Turning his attention back to the fiendish mirage on the water, Gerald found the Grand Master staring blankly at Jillian, his head cocked to the right. His arms no longer hang down his sides but were crossed over his chest.
"My minions are... oh, you mean Hazzergash's puppets!" He laughed, a strangely human and almost likable laughter. "The so-called crusaders are Hazzergash's, Jillian, not mine. Surely you can't expect me to hold that dog's leash while I'm still stuck were the Nomad put me? No, I have nothing to do with what Hazzergash and his minions are doing. But..."
He paused, staring at both of them with frightening intensity. "Yes, you are rather insightful for a mortal. Very few realize that the truest distinction between myself and the Lord of Darkness is that while he seeks to destroy, I merely desire to rule. It would sour my eventual return as ruler of your world significantly if you mortals had been wiped out before then. I do want the Withering to end, and my Crimson Dawn has indeed tried to act upon my knowledge... tried and failed.
But surely you see that this information is still much too valuable to give away freely?" he explained with a vague gesture of his right hand. "And it is a deal I will likely only ever be able to make once... and even if I do tell you where to go, there is no guarantee that you succeed. My agents failed; why would you not? Then I will have gained nothing."
He sighed. "Tell me this: how am I supposed to believe that two mortal mages could have any hope of vanquishing a demon with the power to kill millions? And who, as I'm sure Gerald will have figured out already, has bolstered its own strength with the power stolen from the victims of the plague? I do enjoy a good gamble, Jillian, but you have to admit that the odds are not exactly in your favor. And I don't make bad bets."