The small ferry pulled into the harbor to rising tensions and guards running here and there, checking citizenship papers and conscripting most everyone able to hold a sword, or bow if they were elven, and generally being annoying. They were like flies buzzing around the violet-haired woman’s head that she could never swat no matter how often she swatted at them. Annoying flies that carried rather potent venoms if provoked. It was too bad she couldn’t just eradicate them here and now; they certainly deserved everything that would be coming to them. No matter where her command took her, the blood lust of the Reaper of Cities would finally be sated once again. It had been too long. It had been far too long.
Click… tap… click… click… tap…
As the people from the ferry meandered down the unloading plank, a small bubble completely devoid of people formed around one woman. This peculiarity invariably drew attention of the worst sort, but she wasn’t worried. It was only natural that people avoided the blind. The rattle of plate mail and the ring of steel boots against the hard paving stones failed to set her on edge; she knew exactly why a few soldiers had come to her. All she needed was… “Aah!”
It never failed. It also never failed to hurt. When squeezing sympathy from those who would normally avoid it like the plague, all she had to do was fall down like she had been tripped or misplaced a foot. It was the misplaced foot this time, placed perfectly to catch her toes on the latest paving stone her walking staff found for her. The myriad of rings that lined the top section of the black staff sang their chorus as her hands abandoned the worthless weapon and flailed toward the unseen ground below. Sheer panic couldn’t have been faked better by an actor. Though her eyes were hidden behind the violet mask that covered from her eyebrows to the bridge of her nose, she extended her farce to her golden pupils just in case someone had a way of seeing beyond those things. It had happened before.
A strong hand on each arm halted her descent and for a moment the blind general was genuinely worried. Not quite panicked, but worried. Could they sense her pact with Xem'zûnd? What were they going to do to her? How could she kill them and get away with it? All of her questions were answered in a soft voice coming from the man on her right. He spoke tradespeak, thankfully, and expressed genuine worry as though he had no idea that her fall was a distraction.
“Are you all right, maam? You should- oh, I guess you couldn’t tell that stone was there, could you.” Fine, fine, just let go already. She wasn’t a baby; she could stand on her own. At least he hadn’t asked… “Where are you headed? We don’t get many people traveling by the ferries this late.” Every muscle in her body went limp. It was protocol, after all, to ask where travelers were headed. What could she say? She had only come to this place because she felt an impossibly strong sensation of evil all the way from Corone. If she didn’t give an answer, she’d probably have to play the fainting card, too.
“Eluriand.” What? Where had that come from? “I heard there was someone who could help me with my eyes in Eluriand. This was the first ferry from Corone I could find passage on.” Well, at least the explanation of why she was headed there was her own. Rigidity returned to her arms and legs after she finished speaking and, after the guards retrieved her staff from the ground, the two spoke some well-wishes and let her be on her way. After all, what could a blind traveler do to help them? She had already proven useless by being unable to even catch herself as she fell.
You’re welcome. The unbidden voice assaulted her mind once more. Used to the being’s intrusions, her step never faltered even as she walked through a cloud of poison ash. The voice was stronger now, possibly because he had more control than she first though on this land. And you have your final destination as well. Creatures like us need more than just words as proof, as I am certain you understand, so I will show you your next step. You’ll see what I’m talking about. The gas drifted away from her mind as the necromancer’s voice left, and with it came a terrible sensation. Flames consuming her eyes wouldn’t have hurt this much, but the pain was almost what the blind woman expected. It was certainly more than she wanted. However, necromancy was the magic of the dead, and restoring something always meant taking from something else… or a few somethings.
She blinked.
What had been scenery blacker than pitch under a new moon was now a harbor village dotted with small details. It was like someone had taken a piece of chalk and drawn the outlines of everything onto her mind. Certain paving stones “glowed” more than everything else, and it was only natural that the violet-clad woman followed them. Every step closer to her destination brought her miniscule increases in the detail, but even the smallest increase was enough of a pull to guarantee her loyalty to the path laid out so clearly before her. It was almost a disappointment when she saw her rendezvous location. It had taken her quite a long time to follow the meandering trail through main roads and alleys alike, but she never encountered another sentry the whole time. It was strange, but very welcomed. What disappointed her was not the location, nor was it the physical appearance of the building. Places that blended in to the rest of the city were always the best places to hide, but what did disappoint her was the fact that she wasn’t alone as she walked through the main door and into a large… void.
Teleportation magic, illusion magic, wards to keep certain do-gooders away… not to mention wards to suppress the magical signatures of the other wards and more wards to dampen the other suppressing wards on top of self-destructive fields that would collapse the whole array if anything unbidden tried to force its way in. Each one had a distinct “color” to it in her eyes, though she couldn’t quite tell when she learned what each color meant. What she did know was the sort of ecstasy that she was experiencing as she floated through the netherspace between the ends of the portal. When the strange transportation placed her at the base of the most massive black tower she had ever seen, and she had seen quite a few massive black towers in her conquering days, her jaw almost dropped.
“I’m here, Xem’zûnd.” She could have made the coldest Salvar wastes feel like a sauna with her words. “And I’m ready to raze everything that stands in my way. Just give the word.”
“Go.”
Through the semi-transparent mask, golden eyes danced with darkness deeper than the blackest night. Viola Darkstalker, Reaper of Cities, was back.