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The year is almost 810 by Valdemar’s calendar, and Haven is preparing for war.
This morning in particular, though, Haven is also preparing for an ice festival! The sun is just starting to rise, in (thanks to candlemarks of fiddly weather-working the night before) a perfectly clear sky. The Heralds stationed in Haven and the Guard are out in force, setting up a perimeter – it’s a risk to have the monarchs of two kingdoms out in public, surrounded by thousands of people – but the atmosphere is festive. Four of the Baires mages are out and helping set up the checkpoints, where they can run their their mage-sight over every single entrant to look for dangerous artifacts while the Guards search them for mundane weapons. Knots of servants and blue-glad Guards are exchanging banter and laughing as they work on sweeping the river-ice clear, and local street-vendors cheerfully join in as they set up their stalls and carry in their wares.
Outside the perimeter, in the city proper, nearly every room in every inn is packed full. The festival was announced on the Mindspeech relay a fortnight earlier, and (with the help of some distance-casting through the Web as well as non-magical efforts) the roads are clear of snow enough for travel into the capital.
All eight active Herald-Mages are already awake and already keeping half an eye on the Web. Any unexpected discharge of magic will be detected in seconds.
