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[Knightfall]

Thunderport, Isle of Black Dogs:
Elyiniia, the Betrayer of Amylinyon, paced back and forth, deep in the hidden basement of the House of Filrand, mulling over everything that the agent had conveyed to her through the mirror of insight. She already knew more than the man had consciously seen and heard. The mirror transmitted not only his memories of The Ishtar and her crew, but his perceptions as well; even those he didn't recognize as being important.

The mirror had seen to that. It kept a mental record of his experiences that she could tap at any time. A useful tool that only the highest ranking members of the Opposition had access to. The agent and those like him didn't even know that the sending mirror many of them were given was designed to read and transmit their thoughts and experiences without their knowledge.

The mirrors were only given to those that had the potential to become more than just pawns in the games of the Opposition overlords. It was the best way to intercept up and coming rivals before they became a real danger.

She couldn't help but wonder who the young female, who'd sneaked onto The Ishtar, had been. Elyiniia had noticed the skulking form while cycling through the agent's memories. He had been so focused on the ship that he hadn't noticed the clandestine form. This girl, whoever she was, had the potential to be an excellent thief and spy. A thought that intrigued the ancient, elven necromancer.

If she could only discover the girl's identity, then she could use her to bring down Dabuk Tigerstorm and his companions. Yet, something seemed to be blocking her magical skills. Divination had failed to reveal anything, which was unusual, and no matter how hard she delved into the recorded thought patterns of the agent, she was unable to get a clear image of the girl in her mind.

This worried her.

Still, Elyiniia the Foulsoul had gained more than enough information to plan her next move against the miscreants that had thwarted her plans in the West. Onaway had been a grand prize that the Opposition wanted to capture for decades, and just when the plan was near completion, her old nemesis and his unruly spawn had to arrive and ruin everything. Garth Tigerstorm and his companions had been the bane of the Opposition's existence for decades, and now it seemed like the next generation would cause them just as many problems unless something was done.

Elyiniia would see to that, personally, and the Black Death would be her weapon of choice. The ancient witch deactivated the magical mirror with only a thought. She gathered everything she would need before ascending the cracked-stone, spiral staircase to the main floor of the House of Filrand. Elyiniia had been pretending to be the Pirate Queen of House Filrand for nearly a decade and easily masked her true self with that of the now deceased Captain Avana Filrand.

Her First Mate, a sniveling man named Dullman, met her at the door of House Filrand. He truly lived up to his name and had no idea who she truly was. He was in love with his Pirate Queen and would die for her in heartbeat.

“Mistress, the crew of the Black Death awaits yer orders, with glee,” the man drolled.

“Prepare to set sail, Dullman. I've learned of a new fat fish to fry, and I want to be underway as soon as possible.” Elyiniia spoke with the painful accent of an Islander elf, something she'd gotten use to in this role. “Make sure that the men are prepared for a war. Move it you old sea dog!”

“Y-yes mistress,” Dullman bowed and scraped, nearly to the ground, before running off towards the docks of Thunderport.

The pirate city was at its worse and the sky above it was filled with the smoke and smells of the unclean and worthless. The souls of this stinking pool of filth were some of the worst. They had little to redeem them to Elyiniia beyond their gifts for making evil and suffering in the world. She'd be glad to be free of Thunderport and its horrid streets. No, nothing would keep her here, now that The Ishtar had set sail.

“I am coming for you, whelp of Garth,” she whispered into the air. “You and your friends shall rue the day that you crossed me.”

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