Weismeira

It felt like years ago that I'd heard Nadia mention the name, and it had been years since I'd learned it. My father had occasionally traded with ships from there, and all I knew of it was second or third-handed knowledge. It was the seat of a Langrave, as I recalled, and sat next to a wide river that flowed into the sea; the men who my father traded with spoke of hugging the coast.

It, and two subordinate Belgraves, made up the nobility of the region; it might have three, I couldn't remember the details. But, despite my spotty memories, it was still the best target. I couldn't return home, I felt that would be too obvious for the Warmaiden and there wasn't much to find there. But I could recall rumors of the Langrave, he was considered an eccentric with an eclectic collection and Weismeira would hold many sorts of people.

Like a tree hiding in the forest, it might be possible for me to escape notice there. At least, until I had consolidated power.

There was a small wrinkle in my plans, however.

I had no fucking idea where I was.

I could see the mountain near Barley to the north of me; north, north-west. And judging by the size, I had made a fair distance. Unfortunately, all that meant was that I was slightly less lost than I could have been. I was also naked, unarmed, hungry, filthy, and hunted.

I looked around, the dense woods had a sort of rise and fall to them, and considered my options.

Such as my option were.