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  Morning fog lay across the parts of the rolling hills like wispy cotton blankets covering a still sleeping landscape.  Only where the rising sun shine bright did the cool covering of lingering humidity retreat, content to stay in the dim light of the fading night. Felix found himself surrounded by the well tended fields of farms as well as the wild spaces of unworked land given over to undergrowth, wildlife and tall copses of trees.  He didn't pretend to understand the intricacies of agriculture even though he'd 'grown up' in a village not unlike the one he now travelled through.  He had been trained as a tailor, not a farmer, from a young age and had spent precious little time outside.  Instead, he'd been practically chained (metaphorically, if not indeed literally) to a workhouse table learning his trade.  Such was the lot of orphans in this world, though there were [i] worse [/i]fates.
  He had recently earned his freedom from the workhouse and been told to make his way in the world.  He could've stayed and worked in the Millhouse proper, as many had, but Felix had...aspirations. Aspirations and a talent he'd kept hidden from his masters, one he felt keen to explore out in the world.
  
  The slim, well dressed man walked in a carefree manner along the top of the stone walls that formed field boundaries, enjoying both the warm welcoming sun on his face as well as the cool dampness of the shadowed places where trees cast heavy shade over the cart rutted roadway.  He cast an odd juxtiposition to the rural setting dressed in gentlemen's attire.  No gentleman was he, though.  Definitely not where wealth was concerned...and that was what had brought him to the farm just ahead.  A paid contract through the Adventurers' Guild promised coin for his empty purse as well as travel to the capital.  He hoped from there to secure travel and admittance to the Duchy.  He'd heard tell of the wonders of the place and its otherworldly wonders; it was where he wanted to learn more about his trade and make a success of himself.

  "[color=6ecff6]Good day to you all.[/color]" He announced, hopping down from the stone wall to approach the caravan and its mistress. "[color=6ecff6]Felix Mallory DeVille, escort for your caravan, at your service.[/color]" He bowed gracefully to Marla and added a playful wink to the frail girl sitting in the cart. Felix didn't exactly [i]look[/i] the part of 'caravan guards' but looks on this world were often deceiving. The rough scar across the thin man's face  let slip that there might be a rougher edge to his apparent 'dandy' nature.