With a deferential nod, she eases back on the board and settles in beside Atal until the coach nears the posted guard.  Slipping into her commoner's accent with the ease one might pass a ball from one hand to the next, Freyja somberly calls to the nearest armed man.<br/><br/>"Blessings of the crowns, good sir.  Anything we can do to be of help?"<br/><br/>Of course, there was little that two guards would be able to do in assistance to such a large group, but offering it showed obeisance.  She gradually leads around to the question, simply and directly.  "What's befallen here?"