The caravan slowed to a final halt as they reached the blockade.
The fallen logs sprawled across the narrow forest path like giant limbs of some old, dying beast—some cracked halfway, others split and crushed, with bark peeling from their sides in long, rough strips. A hush briefly fell over the knights as they all stared ahead, the quiet crackling of tree branches under paws the only sound among them.
Commander Valerie raised a hand and dismounted her tiger with practised ease. Her boots struck the soil with weight and certainty. She stepped forward, hands resting on her hips as she inspected the obstacle for herself.
Sure enough, the trunks bore no sign of clean cuts or scorch marks. Jagged edges, rotten cores, and the exposed marrow of old wood all but confirmed what her scouts had reported. Natural. Most likely brought down by storm, rot, or the relentless passage of time.
She gave a short nod and called over her shoulder.
"Bring the teams forward. Let's get this cleared."
