After the basic conversation where she pointed to her holy symbol, looked confused, and tried to get these common folk to understand she needed the local temple, she got pointed to what seemed like a nice place. She was a bit puzzled as that sounded like Njörðr, but as she approached and the feeling it was a feminine place grew, she was unsure she was even at the right place. Sure, her goddess was said to have come from the loins of Njörðr, but that was neither here nor there. It atleast seemed clean. Well, the pathway up. I hope this is not a common trek in this places to temples. Armor is not meant to go up mountains. Not this far. To be fair, it was getting dark so she was rushing, which upon reaching the door, she let out a puff of air and knocks, unsure how the local deity would treat, or even welcome her. She did hear some animals about, so she could get lucky, and possibly sweet talk her way with the local... priest? Was it a priest? For a female god a male priest seems odd... I will just have to see. Maybe it will not be so bad Its the tiny language barriers that counted.
The temple is a simple palisade church, made of split oak tree trunks driven into the earth to form the walls. The thatched roof is steep and pointed, with a similarly pointed porch protruding out of the building's longer side over the arched double doors. One door slowly swings inwards with a creak at the force of Kara's knock. For such enormous pieces of wood the door seems unusually well balanced.
The light inside is soft and warm. There is a hearth against the far wall, in front of which a robed figure is sat on a stool. They are lent over a cast iron pot, which they stir as it bubbles over the fire. The delicious smells of a freshly cooked stew fill the wooden hall. Without turning, they raise a single hand over their shoulder and beckon to Kara to come in.
Inside, the temple consists of a few ornate benches carved with Celtic designs and an alcove at one end of the hall containing a shrine to each major god and goddess. The other end is a dedicated shrine to the goddess Nerthus.
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The noble quarter is up the castle road on the clifftops and is surrounded by an ornate wooden wall. At night, two guards stand watch at its entrance.
Felix sneak up against the wall, keeping low and quiet as to not alert the guards of his presence. He approaches a portion of the wall out of sight from the guards and takes out his grappling hook. Felix throws the grappling hook over the wooden wall and slowly pulls on the rope until he feels the hook catches. Giving it one last tug to make sure the hook is secure, Felix begins to climb.
The guards seem focussed on their conversation and not on anybody not directly approaching them. Felix slips by and along the base of the wall with ease.
The grappling hook catches neatly on top of the wall and Felix begins to shimmy up the rope.
He neatly mounts the wall and squats perched on top in the moonlight as he gathers his rope.
On the other side a few richer properties are visible as well as an expensive inn for the upper class and a few shops selling more valuable wares. In the distance looking out over the sea is the royal residence. Guards patrol the streets with lanterns.
None seem to spots his shadowy figure crouched atop the wall, although for a moment one looks like he thought he saw something. It would be wise to move before anybody does.
Felix gently climbs off the wall and ducks into a near by alleyway. He observes his surroundings making sure there is no guard approaching, before moving away, staying low and close to the shadow where he's comfortable. Felix heads towards the inn he spotted, hoping to find some rich fellow who's had a little too much tonight.
Felix lands in a roll and quickly ducks into the shadows and out of sight. The inn is on the quarter's main square, but nobody seems to be coming and going right now, although the muted sounds of revelry can still be heard from within and light flickers in the windows. However, dressed as he is, it is likely that Felix would stick out if he just walked through the front door.
Seeing that no one is about, Felix gets to work. He sneaks around the back of the inn and starts to climb up the side of the building. Taking care to not make too much noise and looking for any open windows that he could sneak into.
Walks forward, shedding her arms and most of her armor bar her chest piece, as it was truthfully more a pain to get on and off than she let on. She steps in lightly, saying a prayer in Norse to ask forgiveness if she is intruding, and then comes in. For such a far off place, she recognized some of the figures, as they seemed to match many of hers back home. No wonder I can get along with them, they aren't that much godless heathens. Perhaps this person can help me. She approaches, careful to not step or knock into anything, for if one made a god mad, you never knew how it would play out. She speaks quietly, not sure how to address the person. " Elder, I come to talk faith, and to seek the guidance of Freya. I wish to seek her aid on our journey. I... I have no boar to sacrifice, but I try to spread her works where ever I go. I request her to aid us as we walk to our next place of business. I request fair game and non-mired roads." She stays behind who she thought was a priest, somewhat formal in her stance. She had her head bowed as if she was a young girl in trouble, as when she was raised she often was with the Elders of the faith.
The voice speaks not in Cornish, or Saxon, or Norse. It makes nothing that could be described as sounds or syllables. Kara hears it as much in her head as through her ears... and yet somehow, intuitively, she can understand. She understands as though this were the only language she had ever been intended to know and in her heart she can feel - this is the language of the Gods.
"COME SIT BY THE FIRE."
The voice is female, that much Kara can tell. She rests her palm on a stool besides her and it is clear that this is not a request, but an instruction.
"YOU ARE A LONG WAY FROM HOME CHILD. VERY FAR INDEED."
Kara can see the woman's lined mouth move under her hood and as she turns to face the blonde warrior it becomes clear that her eyes are a blank milky white.
"HOW MUCH FARTHER DO YOU INTEND TO RUN?"
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Felix quickly sneaks by the watch's patrols into the stables and rapidly scales the inn's rear wall. One story up the windows are barred by wooden shutters with simple latches on the inside.
Shaken by the voice, she was visible stunned. She took a few seconds before she bowed and sat, keeping her head down after noticing the eyes. Everyone knew that a priestess without eyes, or blinded, was one truly blessed, and was to not be questioned. She was not a small woman, but if any of the others could see her, they would question how she appeared so small on the stool next to the woman. She was unsure how to respond, for she felt that Norse was still too crude for this, and so she thought to herself, I have no idea how to proceed. This voice... I thought I might encounter one like myself, but this... this is unexpected. She would then attempt in Norse, the embarrassment very clear in her voice as she says " Elder.. I.. I am not worthy. I ... I do not feel as if I am running. Please take a kindness to me and guide my steps back towards the glory of Freya. I only wish to do her honor." She finished in a shaky voice, a squeak of Norse really. She continued to look down, and tried her best to not pick off the lint that was now very very noticeable on her outfit.
Felix quietly peek through the barred windows to make sure there is no one inside the room. Just as quietly, he takes out his thief's tool and gets to work unlatching the windows.
Seeing that the shutter opens only onto an empty hallway, Felix begins to slowly work a thin sliver of metal up between the two shutter doors and raise the latch, but slips and clatters against the wooden panel with a thud.
After the group had split up to return to their own accommodation, Gawen had headed back to his room in the noble quarter to enjoy a good night's sleep, and prepare a few herbal potions for the journey the next day.
He was just in the middle of grinding a few berries together into a thick brown paste by the lamplight of his room at the inn in the noble quarter when Penn (the dog) pricked up his ears and softly growled.
Gawen narrows his eyes, and, moving softly, picks up his sickle and listens intently.
There. A slight clatter from the wall outside the inn.
Maybe just a bird or a bat? Gawen thinks to himself. Or maybe not. Well, better safe than sorry. He slowly exhales, and opens his third eye.
The world subtly shifts in Gawen's perception - shadows and colours grow less distinct, movements and objects become sharper. And in the direction from which Gawen had heard the sound, a subtle twisting or distortion. Gawen focuses, and the distortion resolves itself to a human-sized aura, almost felt rather than seen, clinging to the outside of the building. A slight nausea accompanying the aura tells Gawen that whatever is clinging to the outside of the building is not a natural inhabitant of this world, born from the blood of some other plane of existence.
Gawen grits his teeth and grips his sickle more tightly. He crosses the room to the window and, as quietly as he can, unlatches and opens the shutter and peers out along the wall.
It takes a couple of seconds for him to recognise the silent, shadowy shape by its garb.
Gawen exhales, the tension and fear easing slightly.
"You know, Felix," he calls softly to the shape on the wall, "if you wanted to come and visit you'd probably find the stairs easier."
Felix winces as the shutter clatters, he knew instantly that he screwed up. It is hard to remember the last time he fumbled this hard...
As Felix turns and was about to flee from the scene, a voice called out his name from behind. This startled Felix so much that he nearly fell off the wall.
A moment later, seeing that the voice came from non-other than his new acquiescence Gawen, Felix relaxes a little and recomposes himself.
Damn, he did mention he was going to stay in an inn ... and since this is the ONLY inn here... Well... this is awkward...
Felix feels a wave of embarrassment washes over him. His cheek burns as he look up to meet Gawen's gaze and presents his best smile.
"Oh...Hi there Gawen. Don't mind me, I was just... errr... practicing my craft... In fact, I am leaving now, good night."
Felix turns to leave, trying not to think about the conversation they might have tomorrow.
"Sssh," the priestess responds soothingly, lifting a wrinkled hand to gently caress Kara's cheek. This time the sound is very much more real and grounded. A sound from a tongue of this earth.
"HUSH CHILD, THERE IS NO NEED FOR SORROW... NOT ALL THOSE WHO WANDER ARE LOST."
Steam wafts from the stew, filling Kara's senses with the scents of roots and meat. The priestess lifts her ladle from the cauldron and holds it up to the paladin's lips.
"DRINK CHILD, TASTE THE BOUNTY OF THE EARTH."
As Kara drinks a haze envelops her. Her vision dulls even as her other senses are heightened. She feels the papery skin of the priestess's fingers against her cheek, tastes the bitterness of the roots in the stew, hears the wind howl outside about the temple walls.
"LET ME SHOW YOU YOUR PATH CHILD. KNOW THE DESTINY THE GODS HAVE WRITTEN FOR YOU."
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A long wooden hall filled with golden light. At a long feasting table legendary warriors drink, make merry and tell tales of battle. At the end a spear rests against an empty throne.
The hall darkened and empty. Cold wind blows across the once feast filled tables and snow drifts build on the threshold. A one-eyed raven sits on one corner of the cracked throne and squawks.
A bearded southerner carrying a staff kneels before a burning bush.
A horned man in the garb of a northern priest follows a white-robed southerner through a rocky desert.
**************************************************
When Kara awakens it is morning. She is lying on a bench, her head cushioned by one woollen blanket, while another covers her where she lies. The priestess is gone. Across the hall a single robed man sweeps the floor in silence.
When she awakens, she shakes her head, her hair curling to her shoulder. She felt rested, but recalling her dreams she pales. None of those were welcomed sights. The southerner and the bush sounded familiar, but what frightened her the most was the empty hall. It first needed a leader it seemed, and without one, would fall to ruin and scatter. The raven was obviously Odin, and as she puzzles it out, she feels that it means even if they fail, Odin will persist, but it will be a hollow shell of its former glory. And that would not stand.
As she stood up, and rebraided her golden hair, she knew what she had to do. She had to ensure that long hall was not empty, even if she must pick up the spear herself. She looks about and sees the robed man, asking him in Saxon " Do you know who was the elder last night? I wish to thank her. I also wish to know if you have any horses that you can spare for travelers, or even possibly a cart? I have a task I must attend to, and I do not wish to be slowed by foot travel."
She was hopeful for a positive answer, as she felt to truly lead, she needed to ensure Freya was pleased, and that the fight was not finished until the christian scum was wiped from the face of the lands.
The man smiles and nods friendlily... and then continues sweeping, clearly not having understood a word Kara has said. However, outside she can hear the sound horses neighing.
After hearing the sound of nearby horses, she goes out into the stable. Unsure if she should enter, she looks around for a sign or something similar, for this could be horses kept for the use of traveling priest. If not, she could be in great trouble. Maybe it had a sign up.
Kara finds no sign, but does see a balding old monk pottering about the stables feeding the horses. He is a small, but wide man wearing a simple brown cassock, and smiles broadly as he sees Kara approach.
"Rydych chi'n deffro plentyn! Beth alla i ei wneud i chi y bore da hwn?"
He exclaims loudly in Cornish clapping his hands about her arms affectionately. Kara towers over him.
Speechless, Gawen watches Felix slip away.
I wonder what that can have been about, he thinks to himself as he closes the shutter and returns to his potion preparation.
Flushes a bright red, not sure at all what he was saying. She fumbles and brings forth her gold pouch, with the remainder of all her funds. She then points to the horses, and then to her coin pouch. She was hoping he would understand. The Horses would be a blessing to have, and would speed up the journey. However, the dark feeling of the second vision still haunted her, and the longer she thought on it, the more she felt she would either make the first or second vision come true.
Freya guide me towards the glory of your fields, and allow the vision to pass with someone leading. I will carry your spear into battle, and will bring glory to your name with it. Guide your humble servant.
The monk shakes his head and pushes Kara's coin pouch away, instead turning and beckoning to her to follow.
"Dewch. Dewch."
He leads her to a large gate, which he swings open with a heave to reveal a carriage.
"Dintagell?" he asks. "Dwi'n dod. Dwi'n dod."
Frowns softly and follows. When she sees the carriage she nods. She still was unsure what he meant, and knew that she must repay the kindess. She points and then hands him the coin pouch, giving away the last of her wealth for the party she was with. She would not let him give it back, as she had no need. If her goddess was going to bless her enough that she need not to pay for travel, she wanted the coin to help out the shrine. It would hopefully help them out. She tells him in Saxon
" Thank you blessed one. Please accept the coins and we will do our best to repay this kindness and the blessing you have shown us. May Freya continue to bless you."
Having not had any experince with a carriage outside of riding on one, she would lead it down to the inn where Magan was staying, her face bright and cheery, but in her mind still lingered the dreaded dream she had. A cracked throne and no warriors... she shivered slightly waiting on Magan and the rest.
The monk sighs, half in exasperation, half in relief.
"You could have just told me you spoke Saxon girl," he laughs kindly. "You spent the whole night mumbling deliriously in Norse."
He stops and counts out the coin. Eighteen gold pieces.
"I am Brother Branok. Where exactly is it you're trying to get? If you're trying to get down to the village I'm headed there anyway, but this much is enough for passage all the way to Caerwysg!
He laughs again at the notion and as he chats with Kara the monk continues to ready two horses and harness them to the carriage. Eventually he is sat atop it and ready to leave.
"Shall we?"
He offers his hand to help Kara up before setting off for the village.
Magan wakes early, stretches out his muscles from the uncomfortable bed and checks everything is still in place in his bag. You can never be too careful here. He'd never had a problem in this inn, but the best way to avoid trouble was to be prepared for it.
There is a moment of surprise when he sees Felix in the next cot, but he wakes him with a soft kick.
"Time to go lad, don't want to waste the sun."
He steps out and blinks in the sunlight. The sight of a carriage heading down the road towards them makes him sigh in disappointment at the thought of the length of their journey. As at slows in front of him he does his best to push concerns of being caught on foot by those who surely still hunted him to the back of his head.
Shrugs as she rides in with the brother. She is chatting with him in Saxon, trying to learn a little bit more about the area, but when she sees Magan come out, she points to him and states " No matter how much of a warrior I am, he knows where we need to get to. I am unfamiliar with our direct after it is on some south route." She looks rested, but her hair seems more... golden white than normal. Probably a trick of the sun. She still was clearly defering to Magan as he knew the locations better.
Brother Branok pulls the carriage up outside the Hungry Trickster with a soft "whoah" to the two small and sturdy horses. They look more like Errol than true horses really.
"Hail, my son!" he calls. "Our friend here seems to be looking for you. Can you explain to me where she's trying to get?"
Felix deftly works his magic on the treasure chest, unlocking the mighty complicated looking lock and disabling the well hidden trap. With one swift movement, he flips open the chest and finds...a kick to the ribs??
Felix bolts up, startled, half dazed and pulls out a dagger by instinct. A few seconds later, his eyes focuses on the figure that woke him, who turns out to be Magan and resheathes his dagger with a disgruntled sigh.
I couldn't even score big in my dreams... How annoying...
Felix stretches and follows Magan out of the inn.
Waking as the sun rises, Prasutagus looks about the stable. Why more people don't sleep with their mounts I do not know....
Standing the horse warrior gathers his gear and saddles his mount, checking it over and feeding it from the stables stock.
Shaking the straw from his clothes, Prasutagus grabs Aurelius' reins and walks over to the inn, paying for the stabling as he goes.
Magan looks up to see Kara and a grin spreads across his face.
"Here for one say and already making friends. Outstanding."
He turns to inspect the cab driver.
"Well firstly we need to meet our friends and collect my horse from the dockside. Then we are heading to Kent, I don't suppose you were expecting such a long ride. There are five of us in total, and we have 2 horses of our own, so you will be carrying 3 passengers. How far are you willing to take us? I'm sure Kara would be eternally grateful for any small part of that journey that you would make for her. As would we all."
Carriage is a little attention grabbing, but still it is faster than being on foot. So long as I'm not inside we should be fine. Maybe we can lose it by London anyway.
Branok brow raises and lets out a low whistle when he hears Kent.
"Well Kara here has donated a fair amount of gold to our temple. Certainly enough to see you to Caerwysg, I can probably even take you up as far as Worlebury. I can't leave Dumnonia though. The temple will need its carriage eventually."
He glances over his shoulder and makes to turn the carriage.
"Shall we go find the rest of your friends then?"
As if on cue, Gawen arrives, a large pack on his back and accompanied by his dog. He raises a hand in greeting as he draws nearer.
"Have we found transportation?"
Walking up to the group, Prasutagus takes in the scene with the cab.
So we have a cab driver now? Ah well, I shall be riding Aurelius anyway...
To Magan, "Bydd y cludiant hwn yn ein gwneud yn y band mercenary mwyaf amlwg ym mhob Dumnonia. Cawsom geffylau'n gyflym orau."
Getting into Aurelius' saddle and testing how his weapons, armour, and shield sit, Prasutagus says to the group, "Bore da pawb. Os nad oes unrhyw wrthwynebiadau, yr wyf yn awgrymu, pan fyddwn yn dod allan Magan ac yr wyf yn arwain. Os bydd unrhyw beth yn mynd o'i le bydd yn rhoi amser i chi fynd allan o'r cerbyd a dod o gymorth. Dim pwynt yn y cario yn taro'n gyntaf."
Branok looks visibly unnerved at the talk of 'getting hit'.
"Uhm... we're not expecting any trouble, I hope?" He calls down from atop the carriage.
Looks away, a bright red under her golden hair. She mutters what sounds like its not an issue, was the least I could do, or something similar. She just hated walking enough that she was glad to not have to walk the whole way. Unfamiliar with the area she wasnt sure how far that would leave them from Kent, but she figured it was better than nothing.
" Was just trying to help. One must not forget the duty one has to the gods, for Freya truly blessed me." She had asked the brother on the ride down about the burning bush she saw, as it was familiar slightly to her, but as the company gathered and started to leave, Those who had previously traveled with her noticed she didn't make her normal prayer for safe passage, as even though she prayed in Norse, the words were not the familiar tone, nor were they said with the same ease.
Freya, veiled oss i dag på en trygg reise, og hjelp oss til å være tro mot dine læresetninger. Jeg spør deg om å hjelpe meg med å fortsette mot veien du har satt i butikken for meg, og når jeg tar opp spydet i ditt navn, veiled min hånd og mitt hjerte til din herlighet. Jeg vil drepe dine fiender, og i ledd vil de føre dine hærer. Jeg ber at i døden vil jeg ha møtt deg med ære som min siste handlinger.
Magan nods at Prasutagus' words. They had been travelling together a fair time now and thought the same in terms of safety when travelling.
"Roeddwn i'n meddwl yn union yr un peth. O bellter gobeithio y byddwn yn ymddangos fel gwarchodwyr ar gyfer y cludiant. Ond wrth i ni groesi i diroedd eraill gall cerbyd gwarchodedig dynnu mwy o sylw nag y dylem ei hoffi. Fel y dywedwch erioed, byddwn yn teithio ymlaen a'n llywio ni'n glir o unrhyw drafferth posibl."
" I was thinking exactly the same. From a distance hopefully we shall appear as guards for the carriage. But as we cross into other lands a guarded carriage may draw more attention than we should like. As you say though, we shall ride ahead aand steer us clear of any potential trouble."
He hops on the carriage and instructs the monk to stop in down the road so that he can pick up Ealing and Errol. He pays the stable hand, and ties Errol by a loose rope to the back of the carriage. The mule objects a little at first to being separated from his mother, but after a brief pat and calming word settles into his new place at the back of the train.
Magan pulls alongside the front of the carriage, and gives a reassuring word to the father.
"Worlebury would be ideal if you would be so kind. As for trouble, we anticipate none but the usual problems one encounters on the roads in these parts, and don't fear, we are more than set up for dealing with such things."
Tightening his stirrups and adjusting his weapons for easier access whilst riding, Magan takes his place alongside Prasutagus at the front of the group.
"Byddwn ni?"
"Shall we?"
He gives a slight squeeze into Ealings sides and sets off at a trot.
"Ddim yn disgwyl ei frawd, dim ond paratoi. Os ydym yn barod, yn sicr ni fydd dim yn digwydd. Os nad ydym yn barod, mae bron yn sicr y bydd rhywbeth." Prasutagus says back to Branok before nodding to Magan and trots along with him.
"Mawr, does neb eisiau brecwast? Iawn, yna, nid yn meddwl i mi."
Felix jumps into the back of the carriage, finds a comfortable spot and takes out a piece of meat jerky and starts chewing on it.
Brother Branok huffs, not entirely reassured, and clicks to the horses to get them moving. With Kara still sat up top besides the monk, Gawen and Felix occupy the carriage. Pen is sat at Felix's feet trying to be a very good dog, his tongue hanging out and his eyes hopeful as he watches Felix eat his jerky.
The carriage rolls on and out of Tintagel village, with Prasutagus and Magan riding ahead as they forge their way out onto the open road. Branok explains to Kara that they'll be heading through the neighbouring village of Bossiney first, about half a mile up the road, and then out deeper into the woods as they cross the breadth of Dumnonia.
About twenty minutes later they are rolling through the middle of this smaller farming village. Children playing in the middle of the street that runs through the middle of the place dart to the side, giggling as they go, as the carriage rumbles past them. Here and there Branok greets the locals doffing a non-existent cap on his balding head. He seems to be popular in these parts.
The village is quickly left behind them and the carriage heads east into what is ironically known to those native to these parts as the Westwood. The road through the trees is less well kept than around the settlements and the going is a little slower. Pot holes mire the earthen track and after another mile or so they find a large fallen tree-trunk blocking the road.
Felix spent much of the journey avoid eye contact with Gawen, instead he focuses his attention on the scenery outside. Noticing Pen staring at his jerky with burning intent, Felix shakes his head lightly and throws the dog a chunk of his unfinished jerky.
Not long after they entered Westwood, the carriage came to the a halt suddenly and Felix pokes his head out of the side window to see what is going on.
As they come upon the tree in the distance Magan turns Ealing around, signaling to Prasutagus to do the same. Trees very rarely block the road neatly like that by themselves and the Red Wolves had used the tactic themselves a few times, though neater he hoped.
He spurs back to the carriage hoping to stop it before it comes into sight of any scouts, his bow already in his hand.
Pen catches the jerky deftly in the air and chomps down on the dried meat gleefully. It keeps him occupied for several minutes, after which he curls up affectionately by Felix's feet.
Felix's nose twitches as he catches the smell of smoke on the wind coming from the west.
Magan doesn't see or hear any bandits lurking nearby. Nevertheless, Branok quickly pulls his horses to a stop at the signal.
"Is there a problem?" he asks fearfully.
Seeing a large tree blocking the way, she starts to get down to investigate. She wasnt sure how well traveled the road was, but knowing the dangers that faced travellers, she got her spear and shield as well. She had her armor on already, as Branok mentions that it would be a long journey, she thought to take the chance to don it, though it had taken a bit of time to do as she was careful to not fall off while riding through Bossiney.
Seeing Magan come back she asks him " Does it look like a trap?'
Following Magan's lead Prasutagus turns Aurelius, and follows. Prasutagus has his shield stowed and spear in hand. Encumbered, Aurelius can not go as fast as Ealing, but Prasutagus is glad of the gap as he falls a bit behind and gets the space he desires for combat.
Should've brought javelins. Can wear a shield with them...
When he gets about 30 feet from the carriage, Prasutagus stops and turns back down the road.
"Mae mwg ar y gwynt. Yn dod o drosodd yno." he mentions to the group, pointing westward. "Ac nid ydym yn hoffi edrych y goeden honno." He says pointing to the downed log.
Felix gets out of the carriage, turns his gaze west towards the smoke.
"Someone's set up camp over there, I am guessing a group of bandits and this tree means there's a scout nearby. Let me go take a look, stay here."
Felix sneaks into the bush and stealth ahead, looking for any signs of bandits.
Creeping ahead through the trees at the roadside, Felix scouts a couple of hundred meters up ahead. He finds no bandits hiding in the forest so far, but as he sneaks onward can hear the sound of a stream flowing further to the west. Eventually he reaches a treeline, opening up onto a clearing where a farmhouse once stood - now a smoking wreck. The stream flows through the clearing in front of it.
Gawen had been intending to ask Felix about the previous night, but the carriage ride had been something of a novelty for him and he hadn't got around to broaching the subject before the carriage drew to a halt at Magan's signal. He peers into the trees, and sniffs the air ( ), also smelling the smoke on the breeze.
Taking his heavy oak quarterstaff in hand, and ensuring his sickle and sling are available on his belt, he cautiously walks forward a little way to get a better view of the tree, curious to see whether it looks like a naturally-fallen tree or a deliberately-placed one ( ), and how long it might have been sitting there.
Seeing the wreckage, Felix relaxes a little, but still aware of his surroundings. He turns back to meet up with the group and report his findings.
The tree still bears its roots and hasn't been cut. It looks like a tree that was uprooted by the wind - likely during the stormy weather yesterday afternoon and evening. Nevertheless, it is unusual for a tree to fall so exactly across a road and it is of course possible that it could have been pulled over by horses if a rope were wound around it. Gawen could see if that were the case by inspecting the bark of the fallen trunk, but to do that he'd have get close enough to actually stand besides the tree.