"Now ye be careful, miss," the tillerman's usually gruff voice softened as he helped Myra into the skiff. Having spent many days at sea, Myra and the tillerman - his name was Colbert, she'd found out - had grown to be good friends. The toughened old sailor looked upon her almost as his daughter, if not simply his ward.

"I will, I promise. Always am," she grinned at him, as she settled onto the small wooden bench. The boat was lowered into water and Myra rowed her way to shore. Colbert would wait for her for as long as she needed him to, she was certain.

Making her way into town, she stopped by every local mage shop, questioning what they might know of liches and phylacteries. Many times she was met with reactions of disgust and driven from the shops. Most of the mages had not forgotten the tales of Khellenduras's madness in life, nor the tales of his new unlife.

A little bruised and very discouraged from her fruitless endeavours, she rummaged through her pack, taking out a fistsized seed of a stone. Pulling her cloak tightly about her and draping the hood over her head to conceal her features, she knelt down and buried the stone in the ground. Nervously glancing about to make certain no one would see her passing, she waited for the facet gate to shimmer into being. In her nervousness however, she could not truly make out any of her surroundings and her looking about proved useless, as many just inside town noted the shimmering portal and the small elfmaid who went through it.

***
The Mage Tower loomed above her, while it's base floated magically above the churning sea. She had visited here on two other occasions. One was a trip of sight-seeing, and the other... to find the very information that set her on her current path. Hopefully there would be someone here who could help her.

She pushed open the doors to the tower and hesitantly stepped inside, pushing her hood back from her face, looking around.