When Azrael's patience is finally rewarded, he's greeted with the sight of a small drow in plain, nondescript clothing, stepping out of a blue portal that he neatly closes with a gesture. He's nothing special to look at; the most interesting thing is his eyes, and the fact he carries himself with an air of quiet competency - and in a city that is quite clearly hostile to not only outsiders but seemingly anyone they find easy pickings, he wears no armor and carries no weapon.

Kimmuriel is not pleased to know there's some other absurd artifact that has somehow made its way here. The ones Toril already has are bad enough. But it's not as if this stranger has made it happen, so he supposes he can save his ire for the thing itself.

"You have made all other preparations?"