The skies above the mountains of northern Cawanor were clear, nary a cloud to be seen. It was but a few hours past dawn, but already Urd Raudhfell was up and on the move. She had stayed the night in the wilds, for no suitable inns were to be found, and she did not trust most villages. Too many therein were distrustful of strangers, in particular those able to wield magic.

There was only one reason she went near the villages at all: She hoped to save others from the fate she had almost had. Being burned at the stake was not a good way to die. Not even the worst of criminals deserved such in her mind. Except maybe those who raped. For them, no punishment was too harsh.

At her side half-walked, half-hovered her favorite spirit shade, the one bearing the shape of a large wolf. Right now, she only had half-focus on keeping it there, thus it was not truly physically present, though it could become so faster than the blink of an eye.

She truly hoped the people would get over their fear of magic soon. There is nothing worse about dying at the hands of magic than by dying from wounds caused by weapons. If only people would understand that magic in itself was not evil. Sure, there were occasional dark mages, but they were swiftly dealt with as they were discovered. Wandering down from the mountain pass and through the foothills was a nice journey. Nature was good. Peaceful. Quite unlike what she had heard the royal courts were. Even at this moment, she suspected there was fighting going on somewhere between the various claimants to the throne, though she had not really paid much attention to who they were. It did not matter to her, nor did it matter overmuch to the common people she moved among.

It probably would be wise to go by civilization soon. To check what was happening and see if there were any messages. In this region, she knew, that meant going to Nyhem, the capital. She certainly saw no reason to cross the mountains again just to get to Cawaport. Besides, if her family had sent any messages, they’d be in Nyhem by now. Thus, going there was the only sensible option. If only such hadn’t meant crowds…

~| A week later |~

At long last, the walls of Nyhem were in sight. Though it was her nigh-constant companion, she dismissed her lupine shade, for there was no telling how magicians would be treated at any given time. With the king dead, policy could have changed. She did not think anyone would easily burn her now, but she would rather not have to kill people to escape such a fate if she could avoid killing altogether.

She wandered up to the gate, where she tagged along with another group of travelers, tinkerers by the look of them, probably off to buy new goods to sell to the more remote villages. There were armed guards by the gates, but not much was to be learned from them, for they wore the usual colors of the Nyhem City Watch. But at least it told her that nobody had taken the town by force.

Her first order of business was to go to one of the richer areas and find the inn she usually stayed at, for her family was not even remotely prominent enough to maintain a residence in the capital. That would also be where any messages would be kept. There were several messages, some of the usual ones about the state of the lands back home, the usual well-wishes and such. Unfortunately, there was nothing at all on the state of the realm, so she would have to go to the innkeep and others like him for the latest gossip concerning the court.

~| later that day |~

It seemed that a much had happened since the king died. She had expected as much and was pleased not to be proven wrong. She had gotten some information from the innkeep, a kind fellow called Hiram. He told her of the two claimants to the throne; Lord Andrew Manshrew and Lord Duncan De Reimer. He had offered his opinions, but they were clearly biased in De Reimer’s favor, for they painted Lord Manshrew as little more than a treacherous imbecile, whereas Lord De Reimer was apparently without flaws.

She had thanked him for his information, before leaving to find other gossipmongers. A city like Nyhem had no lack of such, fortunately. The second told of tales of pitched battles in some of the other nations, of villages, towns and even a city sacked. She, however, did not trust Duncan, though she called him by his less-than-flattering nickname, the snake.

The rest of the people she spoke to either had little new to tell, or spread themselves out among the two candidates or professed neutrality. No doubt the last group wanted to wait until a candidate had proven himself superior.

In the end, the clearest thing she got out of it all was that both candidates had supporters in the capital and that the populace was uncertain. To learn more, she would to present herself at the court. She had hoped to avoid such, but it was the only way to get the most recent and reliable news. The question was whether to go to the court or the mages’ council first. Both options had value. After much thought, she decided to take care of that decision tomorrow. It was already approaching dusk and getting information had taken what little remained of the day after her long travel. In hindsight, it might have been wiser to have traveled by shade rather than on foot. But done was done, so she returned to her inn, where she bought a meal and retired to her room for the night.