Gawen also remains Branok, Theli, Isolde and the wagon, reluctant to abandon them for an unknown foe.
The eagle dives after Jowan, attacking him as best it's able.
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Muttering a few soft words in Welsh, Gawen's eyes cloud over and his shadow shifts slightly as he calls an eagle forth from Annwn.
From on top of the wagon, Gawen frowns. He was sure that Magan and Felix must have seen Pen at least, but they were apparently more focused on something else. Unsure of whether he should go and find them, or whether his presence would tip off their quarry, he keeps watching. "Think I saw Magan and Felix," he says down to Kara. "Still following that man, perhaps. Did you see who they were following? What did he look like?"
Gawen sighs. "If burning a pirate ship is what will speed our journey, so be it. We should consult with Magan and Felix though, no doubt they'll..." He is interrupted by a bout of frenzied barking from the roof of the carriage. "Beth ydyw, bachgen?", asks Gawen, clambering up and looking in the same direction as Pen. Welsh: "What is it, boy?"
Gawen reluctantly parts with a small part of his earnings, and returns to the wagon. "The guard will keep an eye out for the others. We should get moving now."
Gawen offers a silver coin in exchange for the guard's kind assistance.
Gawen thanks the guard and asks whether he'd be willing to keep an eye out for Magan and Felix returning in order to point them in the right direction.
Just what we need, thinks Gawen to himself, another set of mysterious foes chasing us. Out loud, he says, "I see. Stay close to Kara, she is well qualified to protect you." He looks around for any nearby guards or shops where he can ask for the location of nearby workshops.
Having already dismissed her as the source of the arcane threat, Gawen doesn't respond immediately to Theli, continuing his quiet conversation with Branok. "We should get the wagon out of sight and repaired as soon as possible. If all they've done is prevent us from leaving, it may be that they're waiting for something - perhaps reinforcement. I'll see if anyone can direct us to a repair shop that will get the job done quickly." Turning now to their new passenger, Gawen says "Theli. What is the nature of the threat you face?"
"The wheel has fae residue upon it. I do not believe the wheel was cracked by a pothole, but instead by some cantrip or sorcery." He notices Theli sitting inside with Kara and Isolde. "Who's the new passenger?"
Gawen's eyes widen as he realises the origin of the residue. He glances up at Branok with concern to see if the priest has noticed anything amiss, then carefully surveys the area and crowd around the wagon with his third eye, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
"Where's Magan?" he asks the Branok quietly. "I don't think this was an accident."
"Hmm..." Gawen bends down and inspects the wheel further.
Gawen was on his way back towards the temple when he spots the broken wagon in the middle of the road, with Branok cursing beside it. Gawen raises a hand and calls out to him. He strides up next to the Branok and bends down to inspect the damage himself. He winces as he sees the damaged axle. "Do you know anywhere near here that could repair it?"
On his way back to the meeting place, Gawen stops at a couple of other stands in the same market to buy another couple of weeks' worth of trail rations, and a few bits of meat and vegetables to make stew for the group for the next few nights. He also keeps an eye (and an ear) open for any merchants who look like they might have come from further abroad, in the hope some of them might have news from Kent.
"You also, and thanks for your help." Gawen nods his farewell, and heads off to find the others. He suspects, given Tregereth's apparent satisfaction, that he probably undersold the potions, but he wasn't too fussed. He had enough money to continue his journey now, which was his main concern - the money was just a means to an end.
"Two-ten if you throw in replacement skins for the ones I'm selling."
"Two fifty. Do the druids from the Circle come around here often then?"
Gawen makes a noncommital gesture with his hand. "What'll you give me for them? And what's a Seeker? We don't have those where I'm from."
Gawen realises he may have come on a little strong. He found it easy to forget how intimidating he likely was to those who didn't know him. "Apologies, as I said I'm not from around here. I have a potion for enhancing the senses briefly, and a couple of healalls I have no immediate need for." He doesn't mention the potion of Concealment from Animals he made for Felix a few days earlier, suspecting it wouldn't find much use outside of burglary. "I'd hear what you can tell me of Lowenna and the Circle?"
Gawen raises his eyebrows. This wasn't the reaction he'd hoped for, though perhaps the one he should have expected. Certainly the fact that the man was running a market stall rather than acting as adviser to the city's leaders had not been a promising sign, but he'd hoped for a man who at least had the gweledigaeth. Instead, this man seemed likely to be a mere herbalist at best, a charlatan at worst. He sighs, hoping that his morning won't have been wasted. "I'm to take that as a 'no', then? A shame, but you may be able to help me yet. I've some concoctions that I've no current use for, do you buy as well as sell?"
Meanwhile, in a much less depressing conversation across town... "Tregereth, well met. My name is Gawen. Myself and some companions are travelling east to investigate the Christians who have landed there. On our way here across the moorland, however, we were attacked by what I believe to be hounds from the Otherworld. So, my first question is whether you've had any news here, either of the Christians, or of happenings that suggest an imbalance og the natural order."
Gawen approaches the man. "Mae gennych rai nwyddau gwych. Efallai y gallwch chi fy helpu - dwi'n chwilio am druid a ddywedwyd wrthyf fywydau yn y gymdogaeth hon." Welsh: "You have some fine-looking wares. Perhaps you can help me - I'm looking for a druid who I've been told lives in this neighborhood."
Gawen thanks the folk at the temple, and heads towards the river looking for Cowick.
Gawen heads off to find some druids.
"Perhaps you could take on them all by yourself, Kara, but for myself, I think I'd struggle!" Gawen says with a soft smile. "But I think if those bandits continue to cause problems they'll be dealt with anyway. Bletius didn't strike me as the kind of man to let bandits have free reign in his lands, nor did he strike me as one incapable of dealing with them. They'll reap what they sow no doubt, but we have our own task. Speaking of which..." The druid looks slightly smarter than usual this morning - he's clearly made some effort to brush back his normally wild-looking hair, displaying his circlet of office more clearly. "I would indeed like to speak with the druids here, and I agree that replenishing my funds would be welcome. I won't be much use defending caravans, but I could perhaps try and make some coin here by selling potions or suchlike. We could split up for now and meet at noon?"
Gawen thanks the members of the temple as they dress his wound, then settles down to sleep, well aware that rest is the best medicine for most ills. Pen settles down in his customary position at the end of the bed, and is fast asleep within minutes. Gawen takes longer to drift off as he reflects on the journey so far. When he does eventually sleep, his dreams are haunted by dark stormclouds and a distant howling.
He grimaces in pain as his arm throbs again. "I think I'll leave the news-gathering for the morning though. Did you say there was somewhere I could clean this wound?"
Gawen nods in agreement. "Part of why we're heading that way is to find out how much of a cause for concern they are. It may be that they are weak, but if they have the ear of the Sacsonaidd King it could cause trouble for us all."
"My thanks. I'd be interested to hear more of the men from Rome - if I wanted to find some merchants or travellers who've come from that way, where would you suggest I go?"
Gawen nods in agreement. "The skilled arms of my companions were enough to fend them from us thankfully, though not entirely without cost." He gestures to his injured arm, which still throbs with a deep ache where the hounds' teeth had rended his flesh. "Have you heard any news from elsewhere in Prydain?"
"Goði, on the moor we were attacked by Cwm Annwn, fierce hounds from the otherworld. Have there been any other reports of travellers attacked in this manner?"
Gawen nods his head in deference to the man. They may follow different faiths, but good manners transcend religion. "Indeed, and I thank you for receiving us, Godi", Gawen replies, hoping he has used the correct honorific for the priest. "As Branok has no doubt told you already, we are passing through on our way to Kent, to investigate rumours of the arrival of a new Christian priest on our shores. However our journey has already been beset by more trouble than I foresaw - perhaps unrelated to our purpose, perhaps not. But as for what we seek in this city - any shelter, aid, knowledge and news that can be spared."
Gawen, watching Branok and the high priest intently, nods a distracted assent to Magan. When Branok gestures to Kara, Gawen also approaches, keen to speak to the man.
"Rydych chi'n gyfarwydd â'r ddinas hon, Branok? Ydych chi'n gwybod lle y gallaf ddod o hyd i druid leol?" Welsh: "You're familiar with this city, Branok? Do you know where I might find a local druid?"
"Faint o amser fyddech chi'n hoffi aros yma?" asks Gawen as they approach the city. "Hoffwn weld a oes cylch druidig lleol. Efallai fy mod yn gallu gwerthu ychydig o adferiadau hefyd, i wella fy sefyllfa ariannol rywfaint." Welsh: "How long would you like to stay here?
I'd like to see if there's a local druidic circle. I might be able to sell a few restoratives too, to improve my monetary situation somewhat."
"Felix," calls Gawen as Felix passes the front of the wagon. "Rydych chi'n iawn i fod yn sâl yn rhwydd - rwy'n sicr fy mod. Efallai mwy nag yr wyf yn ymddangos. Rwy'n credu efallai bod hyn yn amlygiad corfforol o'r anghydbwysedd yr ydym ni wedi ei deimlo, ac os felly, mae'n sâl i bawb ohonom. Ond does fawr ddim y gallwn ei wneud ar hyn o bryd heblaw am y wasg mor gyflym â phosib a chadw'n effro am berygl pellach. Efallai y bydd yn fwy ac yn anos i'w ladd na'r cŵn allan. Byddwn yn eich cynghori i beidio â sgowtio yn rhy bell." Welsh: "You're right to be ill at ease - I certainly am. Perhaps more so than I appear. I think perhaps this was a physical manifestation of the imbalance we druids have been feeling, and if so, it bodes ill for all of us. But there's little we can do right now other than press on as fast as possible and keep alert for further danger. There may be more and harder to despatch than the hounds out there. I'd advise you not to scout too far ahead."
Gawen sits uneasily at the reigns, keeping his senses open for any more otherworldly intrusions. He doesn't say anything to the others, but the encounter has left him thoroughly shaken. It was one thing to know that the rhythms of the natural world were slightly off-kilter, but quite another to see that disturbance leap at you with a mouth full of slavering teeth. His mood isn't helped by the pain in his arm, now a dull, deep, ache that was impossible to ignore, despite Branok's administrations.
Stares off into the middle distance for a moment, and smells the air, hunting for any further sign of otherwordly threat. Sensing nothing however, he relaxes slightly. The plants to the side of the road uncurl and lose their unnatural vitality, their roots no longer drinking from the essence of Annwn. "Byddaf yn cwympo - gweler i Magan yn gyntaf, bydd ei iechyd yn fwyaf defnyddiol os byddwn yn dod ar draws mwy ohonynt," he tells Branok. Welsh:
"I'll mend - see to Magan first, his health will be the most useful if we encounter more of them." He removes one of the small vials from his pack and pours a thick green liquid into the wound, wrapping it up with a strip of cloth he cuts from the end of his blanket.
Gawen protec.
Gawen swings at the nearest beast again (remaining wary of its teeth), whilst Pen continues to worry the creature from the other side.
Gawen cries out in pain as the hound's teeth pierce his arm, and attempts to keep it at bay with his staff.
Pen takes advantage of the distraction to lunge again at the creature.
Drawing his quarterstaff, Gawen aims a swift hit at the wolf that clipped his leg.
Gawen's staff whistles through the air, but the creature sees it coming and dodges the swipe. Seeing his master in danger, Pen leaps down from the trailer and, with a snarl to rival those of his sable foes, attempts to sieze the throat of one of the hounds attacking Gawen.
Again though, the hounds prove too quick. The beast nimbly dodges away before circling to face Pen, its fearsome teeth bared in challenge.
"Cŵn Annwn!", calls Gawen, gesturing to the underbrush. Welsh:
Concentrating, he channels the vitality of the otherworld through himself into the brush between themselves and the creatures. The plants start to warp and grow.
Gawen stands up in the back of the wagon, his eyes a clouded grey as he searches for the source of the land's unreset.
By the time Felix is down and ready, the wagon is hitched and ready to go. "Ah, bore da Felix. Eich meintiau aur heb eich arafu i lawr Rwy'n gobeithio?", says Gawen with a friendly smile as Felix approaches the others. Welsh:
"Ah, good morning Felix. Your quantities of gold not slowing you down I hope?" "Rwy'n credu y dylem wneud Caerwysg erbyn y noson hon, gan rwystro unrhyw drafferth pellach." As he speaks, Gawen unconsciously touches the wooden side of the wagon to guard against his optimistic tempting of fate. Welsh: "I think we should make Caerwysg by this evening, barring any further trouble."
Gawen finishes his porridge and goes out to help Branok with the horses. After a few minutes he sees Prastagus and Magan approaching, and waves a friendly hand in greeting. "Bore da, fy ffrindiau. Sut oedd eich noson yn y llwyni?" he calls when they get nearer. Welsh: "Good morning, my friends. How was your night in the bushes?"
Gawen ladels out a large bowl of the porridge into a bowl and eats it slowly, taking his time to enjoy the simple meal. "Any sign of my companions yet this morning?" he asks the innkeep conversationally. "Or are they still asleep?"
Gawen wakes at sunrise, the sun's rays tracing a path through the dusty air from gaps in the timber wall across onto the bed. Gawen yawns and stretches - like most beds, this one was far too short and his feet had been sticking off the end the entire night. Despite this, Pen had apparently decided that there was room for him on the bed too, and was currently still asleep - legs splayed akimbo and head drooping off the side of the cot. It didn't look comfortable to Gawen, but he supposed that dogs must have different ideas as to what was comfortable or not. As he moves to get up, Pen jerks awake and rolls over, almost falling off the bed in the process. Gawen laughs and ruffles the dog's fur affectionately, before heading downstairs to see whether there was anything available for breakfast.
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