The Rise of Vox the Outcast II

Alas, she had arrived.

The High Marshlands had nothing on her; the foul beasts that inhabited them cowered away in their pits and the few plants that called this home shrivelled as she walked by.

Of course, the Priestess already knew of her coming.

Very good, she wouldn't have to waste any time explaining her purpose.

The Priestess was widely known for being a voodoo queen, even respected by higher beings, so it was said.

Doubtlessly that was because she knew nearly all there was to be known, yet she remained a neutral entity, not meddling in the affairs of the word.
Instead she soothed those who came with questions, even those who longed for lost loved ones. She was honest in her response and never stirred a soul that ought to be left asleep, whether that be in the hands of demons or others.

Heh.

Neutral entity or not, Vox had one thing on her mind and she would claim it one way or another.
She intended to learn the art of voodoo and even necromancy, for she knew the Priestess possessed the skills for that too, although she never spoke of it.
She had picked up a little friend on the way; his highly poisonous tentacles would certainly help the Priestess make up her mind on whether or not she'd comply.

The critter had trembled like a leaf in the wind when she had ordered it to come along.
Oh yes, it wouldn't dare lay a tentacle on her or defy her commands.

Well now, time to go in.
After all, it's rude not to introduce yourself....