:What's your Mindspeech range? You don't speak the language so you won't be able to ask for things from any of the Palace staff, but you're welcome to Mindspeak me anytime:

:A few miles, less if the other person isn't a Mindspeaker:

:You can talk to un-Gifted people too? That's kind of rare here, except for very strongly Gifted Mindspeakers - is there some special technique they taught you?: 

:It didn't seem very special at the time but you do need some oomph for it. I wanted to be able to Mindspeak to my parents and one of my friends:

Dara nods. :Neat. All right, I'll walk you over to a guest room and we'll deliver you some extra clothes there - sound good?: 

Aza nods.

Treven stands as well. :Oh! You're not dressed for the weather, are you? Here, let me lend you my cloak -:

Jisa gives him a fond and slightly exasperated look. 

:You don't have to, I'm a mage, but that's very kind of you:

:He gets all gallant when he's nervous: Jisa sends privately. :Just let him: 

And Dara hustles her out of the meeting-room and back outside for a brief jaunt across a path to another building. The path, at least, is mostly cleared of snow. 

Aza lets Treven loan her his cloak. It's a nice cloak. She slips on ice but catches herself with magic before she hits the ground and manages to right herself all right.

Dara offers Azabel her arm after this. They reach the building without further incident. 

Dara flags down a random Palace servant, who unlocks a door. :Here you go. Bathhouse is at the end of the hall. Should be paper in the desk drawer and extra blankets in the wardrobe:

The room is furnished with a bed and desk and washstand. It feels small and somewhat dingy, definitely not as nice as the rooms in Urtho's Tower. 

Things should have gotten... better... in two thousand years, though Aza's not sure what in particular she was expecting. When she's handed back the cloak she puts a blanket over her shoulders and notebooks till someone comes by.

She's left alone all afternoon. Eventually Jisa knocks on her door. :Azabel? Wondered if you wanted to come have supper with us at the dining hall: 

:Sure: Out she comes.

The dining hall is crowded with other white-clad Heralds. All of them looked stressed and underslept; many are absorbed in quietly-muttered conversations, or clearly Mindspeaking each other. 

Jisa seems preoccupied, and doesn't say much, just points out the table at one end where Azabel can collect her food. 

Aza collects food. She is not really clear on how long they are planning to feed and house her just because she was school chums with their enemy two thousand years ago. She'd consider going back to White Winds but they have some kind of unpleasant asceticism going on there. She should be scoping out places to go make a living if she needs to but she is not sure how since she can't read, which is really unpleasant.

The food isn't as good as the fare at Urtho's Tower, though it seems likely this is partly about the season; there's a minimum of fresh fruits and greens available, it's mostly beans and root vegetables plus a meat stew. 

Shortly after she sits down, Dara strolls in; she's arm in arm with a dark-haired man who looks like he could well be twenty years older than her. :Azabel! This is Herald Tantras, he wanted to meet you: 

Herald Tantras nods with a tight smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes, which look vaguely suspicious. 

:Um, hello, it's nice to meet you:

:Nice to meet you too: He sits. :Dara tells me you knew Ma'ar and he didn't seem evil: 

:Yeah: She doesn't like the past tense, but, well, it was two thousand years ago.