She sits in the corner of the tavern back in the shadows, willing herself to appear as just another nobody not worthy of a second glance to any of those unskilled in the art. Her eyes flicker around the room, searching for what she knows must be present in this new town she's just arrived at by sea. The journey across the water was less than pleasant; however, the rumors of what lay in store for her at Blackstone Keep were just too great for one such as herself consumed with a lust for power. Her old mentor was more forthcoming than he'd ever been about the origin of his true power once he was finally on his deathbed and worried about the legacy he might leave behind in this mortal realm. She smirks slightly as she reflects upon it all ... the very deathbed he never knew she helped create in her own insidious way ... after all, progression in the art had always been worth any sacrifice.
She continues to scan the room ... searching ... searching. She mutters to herself in frustration. The mage's guild that her old mentor once called home must be more than she could dream of if it's this hard to find. With some reticence, she stands up and heads towards the door cloaked with radiant power undetectable to all except those she seeks. She smirks slightly to herself, thinking that perhaps Foxmore will be more forthcoming the second time. Or perhaps this mage she's only heard rumors of out somewhere in the forest might know something if Foxmore continues to be difficult ... the mage Akon.
Patience. She must have patience. Power does not come easily ... nothing worthwhile does. Her eyes flare under the hood as she slips out the door into the darkness ...