With Open Lord Caladorn at her side, Kyriani's proclamation from atop Blackstaff Tower was necessary to acknowledge her legitimacy in the role of the city's archmage. The Blackstaff's proclamation became tradition when the son of Khelben took up the mantle in the Year of Lost Ships and as his long-time friend Ashemmon did in Ches of this year.
12 Nightal, Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)
The Crown of the North awoke at dawn with a woman's voice carried on the snow-laden winds. Her voice echoed through every alley, every privy, every bedchamber, every hearth house, and every nook and cranny within the walls of Waterdeep. Even those places guarded by spells and prayers heard this proclamation. Few folk recognized her voice, but more than a few had heatd this oath, or versions quite similar, more than a few times in the past decades-each time a new Blackstaff stood atop the tower to declare the assumption of power.
'Know this, now and hereafter, the Blackstaff has fallen in service to the City. Mourn Samark Dhanzscul and honor his memory. Yet the Blackstaff has been taken up once more. I am Vajra Safahr, and I am the seventh Blackstaff of Waterdeep. Hear my solemn vow-I shall protect the city, its citizens, and its futute from all those who would see it harmed. I act as Magic's eye, hand, and heart for the Lords and for the good residents of the city. My predecessor Samark Dhanzscul died due to the predations of power-hungry men. I and my friends shall avenge him, and I shall strive to be worthy of Waterdeep's friendship and respect. Know you that she already has my protection and my loyalty.'
As expected, those in the immediate vicinity around Swords Street and upper Castle Ward threw open their shutters to glimpse this event personally. Those farthest off with a high vantage point saw five figures at the top of Blackstaff Tower, four standing in an arc around a solitary figure holding a massive staff almost half-again as tall as she was. The tower gleamed and pulsed with silvery energy in every mortar crack in the tower and its curtain wall. Folk nodded, remembering this happened each time the tower found a new master. Talk flitted about the gathering crowds that the tower had never accepted anyone unworthy of being the Blackstaff-even if she were 'but a slip of a girl.'
Atop Blackstaff Tower, Vajra turned back to the group assembled around her. 'I am very glad to see all of you survived. I know now, moreso than I did before, that you are worthy allies and friends to the Blackstaff. And I'm sorry for all you've suffered and lost in my and Samark's name. Now, I can do more to help us all-and hurt those who so richly deserve it.' Vajra stepped forward, and stamped her foot once on the roof.
A flash of light and the five of them stood in a library, surrounded by walls of books save one wall with a massive fireplace. The ceiling rose higher than three men's heights, and book-laden shelves covered every span of the walls, some even floating without floors to support them. Globes of light shimmered brightly and zipped around the books and shelves to put lights over every person's head.
'There's quite a crowd growing outside right now,' Vajra said. 'More than a few have dozens of questions, not the least of which have to do with my being declared dead and Renaer accused of my murder.'
'Can't say I'm surprised,' Renaer said, 'given how Ten-Rings managed to pin every I'll he's done on others. Shouldn't your announcement take the wind out of the Watch's sails? Keep them from bothering to capture us?'
Vajra chuckled and said, 'And did your obvious innocence ever stop some less-than-objective officers from chasing you?'
'Fair point.'
'I'm all for a little banter to lighten the mood,' Osco said, 'but don't we have an over-accessorized guildmaster to stop from conquering the city?'
'Listen to you, little halfling,' Laraelra said, 'talking like a hero. I thought you only got involved in things with profit.'
'If that one takes power, there won't be much profit to be had in a city run by magic-users. All that energy goes to theit heads, makes 'em crazy.' When Laraelra and Vajra shot him hard looks, he stammered, 'Yourselves excluded, goes without saying.'
'He's right, though,' Meloon added, smacking Azuredge's haft into his palm. 'Ten-Rings must be stopped.'
Vajra reached up and touched him lightly on the arm, her head not even reaching his shoulder. 'We will, Meloon. But first we must marshall our energy. To do that, I'll need Elra's help.'
'How do you know that nickname?' Laraelra asked.
'I wasn't completely unaware of what was going on around me, and I hope I can call you that and more. I have a favor to ask, and it's not one I ask lightly. I would haveyou be my heir.'
Laraelra stared at Vajra, awestruck by the suggestion.
'You can do this, Elra,' Vajra said, leaving the true Blackstaff to hovet next to Meloon. She placed her dark hands around Laraelra's lighter, trembling hands, and looked deep into her eyes. 'I wouldn't ask this if I didn't sense you could handle the responsibility. I need someone I know and trust. Someone with a good head for intrigues.' And no romantic inclinations toward me, she added to herself. 'We don't have much time. There are very few spellcasters I can trust in this city, and you are one of them. Please help me so we can all help Waterdeep.'
'But I'm no wizard,' Laraelra whispered. 'I'm barely even a sorcerer!'
'Neither Tsarra nor Ashemmon were wizards, and they served nobly,' Vajra said, 'and I need one touched by magic to be able to carry one of these against Khondar.' She snapped her fingers and a smooth Blackstaff shod with silver on both ends shimmered into her grip.
'You can't expect us to face him directly,' Meloon said. 'He's ten times more powerful than any of us. I'm not afraid of him, but I'm not stupid either!'
'That's another reason why it's important for her to become the Blackstaff s heir. You all know the stakes and- the location of our foe. I'll best help you by remaining here in my place of power, sending power and aid through my heir. I cannot do any of this without your help, Elra. Without you, Ten-Rings may get away with it all, and we'll have to fight from the shadows to take back our city.'
'Sounds good to me,' Osco muttered, and Renaer smacked him lightly on the head.
'Will you shoulder this burden, Elra?'
Laraelra gulped, her palms sweating profusely. Thoughts of her parents raced through her head, urging her not to be seduced by the promises of power. She also hesitated as she recalled Vajra's instability over the past few days. The two women locked eyes. Despite having been nearly comatose for the past three days, Vajra's eyes held no hesitation, no doubts, only confidence and power. Laraelra heard her father's voice in her head, complaining that she was a traitor for allying with those in power, but she knew in her heart that Vajra and the power she promised needed to be held by those who wanted and needed Waterdeep to be a better place, not just a more prosperous one.
'What do I need to do?' Laraelra said.
Vajra waved her left hand, and a rune-inscribed circle appeared on the floor around them. The three men backed away, leaving the women inside the circle alone. 'Sit. Calm yourself. When you're ready, all you'll need to do is take my hand in one hand and the staff in the other. I'll do the rest.'
Laraelra and Vajra settled cross-legged within the magic circle, the Blackstaff floating horizontally above the floor between them. One intoned syllable from Vajra and the runes flashed green. A translucent emerald dome enclosed them. Laraelra heard only her own nervous heartbeat.
Vajra spoke in low tones, facing down at the staff and the circle, and her voice was a chorus again of male and female voices. Laraelra would later swear she saw eyes and partial faces within the dome's energy as she listened. She didn't understand what Vajra said, but she knew she spoke Elvish. When Vajra faced her again, her eyes shimmered and shifted, the colors swimming from blue to purple to gray, brown, hazel, and green. The Blackstaff held out her right hand and placed her left hand atop the floating staff. Laraelra exhaled, shook her shoulders, and let go of her fears.
With a silent prayer to Tymora, Laraelra gripped Vajra's right hand with her left and closed her right hand
