The Countess Almathrada's page

On this occasion they're turning out exactly how I expected.
One way or another that idiot wizard who jostled me and then failed to apologise at a very important social event is shortly going to be hit by something that will make him wish he had never even begun to dabble in necromancy and had died centuries ago.
He had thirty thousand years to attempt to track me down and apologise, whilst other people climbed slowly to the top of my 'to do' list ahead of him.
Did he even begin to make an attempt?
No.

Evil cloaked in the deepest and most terrible shadow of the oldest and brightest light sits on a nearby mountaintop, observing events at the adjacent Eyrie by means of a brass telescope.
At length The Bane of Avsilar, personally responsible for the destruction of the honour and fall of the first and greatest ever dwarven empire with a few well-placed truths, passes the telescope to one of her two companions and picks up her cup of tea.