She slid from the back of the hay filled wagon and stood, laughing, brushing pieces of straw from her loose tangled hair. The elderly teamster, after a last seemingly doubtful glance, cracked the whip and started the team ambling down the deserted tradeway, long neglected since the invasion, leaving the slight unassuming figure, filthy from days of travel, square behind him in the dusty road, squinting thoughtfully at a distant forest. His parting advice to the wayward, and by her speech, obviously foreign, lass, the comment she had found so amusing, had been concerning her safety. Traveling alone and apparently unarmed, if a chit like that could lift, much less wield, a blade, the girl clearly had no idea of the state of affairs in Loriel, and was as like to find herself mugged and murdered, if not worse. As to finding whatever it was she had come a’seekin; he had advised her to find a man, the bigger the better. Laughter was not the response he had expected. No, the old man thought with a sad shake of his head as the team plodded farther away, the girl a smear of shadow in the distance, the lass was not like to be long for this world.

She smiled as the crotchety wagoneer disappeared in the distance. The road she stood on was surrounded by a rippling sea of tall grass with a hint of forest of the horizon; severe signs of neglect boded ill for the fate of the trade cities it had once connected. She judged it, from the information she had soaked up from various passerby’s, a three day hike to a city large enough that her search might turn up results. Her northern skin was deeply tanned by long weeks of travel and the thick layer of dust coating her long hair disguised it hue as effectively as dye. As long as she didn’t speak, and excepting the alien cut of her clothes, there was no reason she should be singled out as anything but a farm-lass going about her errands or seeking work in the more populated coastal cities. She frowned and considered her accent as she rummaged through her bags looking for more suitable attire. She tried rolling her tongue around some of the stranger words her ride had used in his lecturing, and winced at the butchered result. Definitely something to work on. Rolling out her blankets under the eves of the forest a few hours later, she decided against the fire that would announce her presence to any who chanced by in this still very strange land. She pulled the loose skirt and blouse she had settled on as easiest-to-alter-to-local-standards from her packs and set to work pulling seams and pinning cloth with the ease of long practice. As the night settled around her, a universal shadow world that made of all places one, she tailored by leaf filtered starlight and wondered what the coming months would bring.