With a sinking feeling of dread, Roswita- now grey-haired and quite the imposing figure, having finally grown into her role through dint of hard work and experience- re-read the copy of the will she'd had the misfortune to find in her mailbox.
"And to Roswita van Hal, Elector Count of Stirland, I leave the twelve lakes of magical snake juice currently accumulating in the forgotten depths of Karak Eight Peaks. P.S.: You should probably contact the Colleges about this. Would be a great chance to expand your horizons and clear up some unfortunate prejudices you seem to hold against magic users. Don't bother asking the dwarves, they are well aware who to direct you to. Have fun."