Ambush
W02: The Light Woods
It's Gilday, Bernfleur 18 10:56:56 1020. The full moon is up. The tide is high and rising. The sky is blue and cloudless, the sunlight is bright, and a cool wind blows from the northwest.
This gorgeously sunny spring day with its cool breezes is an enlivening day to be out in nature... or, at least, passing through it in the comfort and relative security of an enclosed carriage wending its way along a forest road. The problem with forests, though, is that they provide cover for highwaymen. It is just so that the driver of one particular carriage, one in which a particularly elegant lady has been traveling on her way to the world-famous City of Alexandria, finds itself ambushed. With no warning, a hulking brute of a man (perhaps giantborn? He is huge, after all.) falls out of a tree whose branches extend across the road some 20 feet above it. The man is massive, and his landing shakes the ground noticeably. Standing there brandishing an enormous cudgel, his sudden appearance spooks the pair of horses yoked to the carriage, and the driver is almost as panicked as he tries desperately to keep the horses from toppling the vehicle.
It is here where our scene opens.
It had been an eventful trip, Nokkela's last few months away discussing business arrangements with an engineer who had promised upgrades to their airships had gone well, but they had taken far longer than she would have liked. She was watching the woods, knowing the possibility for ambush, which is why she kept her weapons with her in the carriage. As the ride jerks and bounces on the road, Nokkela tosses her head out of the window to see the trouble. "Oh, bother," she responds in a tone that masks her instinctive response of panic. She glances to the woods, looking for allies of the aggressor. "I told him this would happen. Did he listen? No, 'the roads are safe, there haven't been attacks in weeks'." She growls in a mostly unladylike fashion, pulling her rapier from its sheath. Maybe the driver can get past him. She hopes so, because that is one big man.
There is no way that the driver would be able to steer around this brute, panicked as the horses are. As the big assailant raises his club and crouches to jump over the horses and clock the driver, all chaos breaks out. The wooden beam that connects the horses to the carriage shatters with a loud CRACK! The horses jerk free and try to run off into the woods but get abruptly halted as the yoke that connects them smacks into the trunk of a tree they were trying to both go on opposite sides of. The carriage, jolted severely as the drive beam shattered, narrowly avoids tumbling smack into the massive attacker, who is tripped mid-attack, and sent rolling into a tree where with another cracking sound, he suddenly goes limp and ends up dead of a broken neck. While all this is happening, a gang of about 8 gobbers swarms out of the woods, armed with menacing looking axes. As the carriage comes to a grinding stop, the driver is overwhelmed by four of the gobbers who take no time to hack the poor man into bloody chunks. The other four are about to scramble into the coach of the carriage, but suddenly freeze at the piercing screech of what sounds almost like a giant eagle, but deeper with a thrum to its voice. Just then, a pair of arrows appear in the chests of each of three of the gobbers, two on the unfortunate driver, the other about to open the door to where Nokkela was sitting.
"Blazes!" Nokkela lets a stream of rather unladylike words flowing from her mouth, and she snaps back as the gobber's axe strikes the door. She grabs her leather jerkin, and throws it on over her dress. It isn't very stylish looking, but it may just keep her alive for longer.
She kicks against the door, slamming it against the gobber before he can open it, and kicks off her fancy shoes. She leaps out of the carriage, unwilling to keep herself pinned in a cage to be easily dispatched. She comes out with a thrust to the heart of the bandit, and then kicks him off the rapier's blade. It's a mildly clumsy move given the noble dress that she wears. It isn't very combat friendly, and she turns to look at the giantborn, and looks for the archers who dispatched the gobbers.
Preceding the arrival of the archer, three more gobbers are impaled with a pair of arrows each, and the last one knows better than to stick around. As he turns to flee, a large beast with the enormous forequarters of a giant bald eagle wearing a shirt of gleaming mithral mail erupts from the forest, spreading its wings as it leaps atop the carriage and in pursuit if the one who would get away. Riding on the lionesque hindquarters of the monster is a male elf with a magnificent longbow in hand, nocked with not one, but two arrows. From the fleeting glimpse Nokkela gets of him as he hastens past, he has short hair, strange goggles on his face, and is dressed in form-fitting leather from neck to foot but for a cape of tawny feathers which billows out behind him. In a trice, the gobber that was trying to flee is clutched in the talons of the griffon and being pecked by its curiously metallic beak. The elf pats the griffon on the neck, then hops off, landing noiselessly on both feet with a 180-degree mid-air twist to face back toward the carriage. He looks the scene over, then, seemingly satisfied, puts the bow, fully as long as he is tall, into a short quiver over his shoulder where it entirely disappears inside. With calm, even breathing, he steps forward to approach the broken carriage, even as the griffon consumes the gobber.
Nokkela watches with wide eyes as the griffon snatches up the goblin and uses it as a snack. She winces, watching the disgusting pull of flesh, then looks away to the unexpected hero. "Um," she glances around. "Thank you kindly." She wanders on her bare feet across the road toward him, rapier lowered at her side. Interestingly, her noble girl feet look a bit more like those of a street rat, calloused and tough rather than dainty and smooth. "Oh no, Gerrtan!" She turns back to the carriage, and climbs the side to check on the driver. "Oh, you poor noble man," she says sorrowfully, reaching up to close his eyes. She kisses her fingers and places them on his forehead. It takes her a moment before turning back to the elf.
"Pardon my rudeness," she offers, brushing a stray curly lock of hair out of her face. "I am afraid you have caught me at a rather unprepared moment of stress. Thank you, thank you for your help."
Ga'Elian smiles at the woman, and merely nods in response, allowing her the time for a private farewell to her traveling companion. As she attends to that, he walks silently around the wreckage, carefully examining what happened. Then, in a thickly exotic accent, his voice a mild, almost melodic tenor, the elf says, "I sympathize for thee. Was this man dear to thee, miss?"
"He was dear to his family," Nokkela responds. "He served my family as a coachman for the last few years. He was a good man, and this fate is most unbecoming for him." She keeps her composure, though the sadness is clear on her face.
She looks back to the griffon. "You seem to be a rather successful adventurer," she confesses, wincing as it strings tendons from its meal of a corpse. "What mechanism of the creator places you aptly on course to deliver me here? I must say, when I saw the giantborn I thought I was certainly doomed."
Ga'Elian nods at the man's impromptu eulogy, then responds to the lady's question, "I wot not how work the destinies of mortals. Mayhap the gods purposed to deliver thee by mine hand, or there might have been no higher fate involved than pure happenstance. At any rate, I take it upon myself to ward those innocents who venture to travel the forests around here. Alas, that I was unable to save thy servant in time." With a friendly, perhaps even mildly playful smirk, he nods his head and adds, "I am Ga'Elian Faravanilas, and my companion," he nods toward the griffon, "is Erithamiel, or Silverbeak as this Trade tongue would have it." Looking at the driver he offers, "If thou desirest it, I will convey his remains to thy people. Perhaps they may secure his restoration to life, else they may dignify his flesh according to the customs of thy folk. In any event, we here are all that remain to clear this mess from the road, that it obstruct not the travels of others yet to come. Thou mayest assist me if thou wilt, or it shan't take me long if thou hast other things to attend to. I suppose thou hast possessions to collect, ere we seek a safer haven for thee?"
"There are many possessions," she admits. "I do not know that Erithamiel would like being a beast of burden, from my understanding of griffons. "If it is possible to restore Gerrtan, then it would be of greater value than all I carry, only allow me to bring one parcel with me. My journey was to secure business arrangements with an engineer, and the details of the final arrangement are contained in the carriage. And if I should ride with you on a griffon, it would be wise to take opportunity to change to more appropriate attire, lest I be indecent during flight." She swishes the dress back and forth, indicating that it might well fly up on them while airborne. "Will you afford me this request?"
Ga'Elian simply says, "As thou sayest." Then turns and gets busy clearing first the corpses of the robbers, then (with the griffon's help) moving the wreckage off the road and camouflaging it to make it less interesting to others who might take too much interest in investigating it. As he moves about, he is not weak, but his preternatural dexterity is obvious. He also leaves no tracks in the foliage, although the same cannot be said for the things he moves.
Nokkela opens the carriage door prior to its removal, and removes a leather bound document bag, and opens a trunk, pulling from it an outfit that looks far less expensive than her current dress. It is a pair of gray travel trousers with a white shirt, much thinner, and ideal for wearing under a leather jerkin. She places the document bag on a stone, along with some black traveling boots, and glances around. While there is a fair bit of foliage, there isn't a lot of full cover around for her to use as a dressing screen. She makes her way back from the road slightly, taking the rapier with her in case there might be a straggling highwayman who might still be lurking.
She finds a section of thick bushes which cover adequately enough, and manages to get herself free from the dress, placing it over the bushes for some extra cover of decency. She spends time redressing, pulling the trousers off the bush cover first, and then the shirt.
The girl who returns looks much less noble, and far more like an adventurer herself, albeit not so expertly equipped. She buckles her rapier to her hip, which, in and of itself is of excellent craftsmanship. Her bare feet carry her back to the boots, which she steps into before lacing them up, and taking the document bag up into her hand.
With the help of the griffon's strength, and its claws, the highwaymen are buried and the wreckage of the carriage is dragged off the road and camouflaged; the tracks are concealed and although signs of what happened remain, they would take a keen eye to discern. Returning from his labors, Ga'Elian says to Nokkela, "Now thou appearest more suited to wilderness travel. Let us load Erithamiel, then we can depart." He casts a spell upon the griffon, and sets about securing the cadaver of the driver so that there will be room still for the beast to bear Nokkela and himself.
GAME: Ga'Elian casts Ant Haul. Caster Level: 17 DC: 14
Nokkela nods. "Indeed," she agrees, mounting the griffon. "I must confess, though I have been airborne many times, it has never been aback a griffon." She climbs up, "Where should I place my legs so not to hinder him?" she asks, lest she become troublesome during the flight.
Ga'Elian instructs, "Well, just sit behind me. Thou wilt put thy legs behind mine, and I shall guide the flight. As thou canst see, I use neither harness nor bridle. Just hold on to me, especially as we take flight, and as we land. By the way, might I know what to call thee?"
"Oh, my apologies," comes the quick response. "I am called Nokkela, Daughter of Trannis." Trannis is known far better than his daughter. His family that manages shipping through airships across the region. A most certainly wealthy name to come from.
"I'm afraid that the excitement has quite caused me to forget my manners." Of course, those who have heard of Nokkela's interaction in the family know that she isn't known for the best of manners, not by noble standards at least. She puts her arms around Ga'Elian. "I must say," she comments on the feel of the owl feather cloak, "This is very soft. And you do look quite adorable in it." The comment is positive, but there is a certain degree that she seems to use the word in the way one might refer to a child looking adorable.
Ga'Elian smirks. but says nothing in response. He does tell the griffon, "Let's get going, buddy. Nice and easy, okay?" At this, the beast begins to run, then spreads his wings and uses the full power of his leonine hind legs to literally jump into the air, where his wings immediately start beating rhythmically to gain altitude. As he clears the forest canopy, all the colors of sky and landscape present a breathtaking panorama. <sildanyari>
Nokkela's face brightens as the wind strikes with the exeunt from the canopy, her blonde curls streaking behind her. "It is very different from being on an airship," she says, realizing that the griffon may be more accustomed to hearing Sildanyari. "How long have you been flying?" <sildanyari>
Ga'Elian replies, much more casually in his native language, "The pair of us have been bonded for almost 2 years. At first he could only glide, so we would practice by climbing the bridge support towers in Alwxandria and gliding down to the river, or climbing to a mountain summit and gliding all the way down to the farmlands. It wasn't awfully long before he could truly fly, though. Anyway, where would you like us to take you? The nearest community is the village of Wilderness Pointe, but we could deliver you to your family's estate if it's in the area. Or to Alexandria: the temple district, the air station, the entrance to the catacombs of the Vardaman clergy, the Soldiers Defense hospital. Where are we going?" <sildanyari>
"The temple district should hopefully have a cleric," Nokkela answers. "I should like to see Gerrtan tended to immediately, so that his life might be spared. Perhaps a priest there can help us." She looks down over the woods, and asks, "I'm afraid I have not learned your name," she admits. "What do you go by? And so you say you raised this griffon since it was a juvenile?" <sildanyari>
Ga'Elian nods. "I am Ga'Elian. Before my Dreamwalk, I was named Elian, meaning 'gift of Eli'. This is on account of my having been born on Midsummer's Day; 'Eli' is the Sildanyari name for the god known to humans as Daeus. I added the 'Ga' to indicate the calling I received on my Dreamwalk. It signifies my role as a warden of the wild places. My tribe is Faravanilas, and it dwells deep amid the Perianath forest close to Llyranost. And yes, Erithamiel wasn't quite his fully mature stature when we bonded." He guides the griffon to climb altitude, and after a while, the highest towers of Alexandria become visible as miniatures against the backdrops of mountain to the east and sea to the south. By now, the forest below is starting to noticeably thin as it transitions to the farmlands of rural Alexandros. Away toward the southwest, a horrible vortex gashes the sky above a forest of twisted black trees. <sildanyari>
"A noble calling, to be sure," Nokkela compliments. "You have warded well this day. My name has no such complexity. I was named for a girl in a legend, one of three sisters who had great beauty and were cursed to become swans. The curse was lifted after 500 years, but then they were old and died. I could not tell you why my parents chose that name. I cannot lie, I would not mind to be bonded to a griffon. It is a remarkable experience." <sildanyari>
Ga'Elian nods his head. "I believe I know a version of that story." He begins to sing now, the lyrics in Sildanyari, the tune simple and animates, not the tranquil melodies of the Dawn Elves. No, this is a song of fae magic, and the singer quite effectively imitates the hooting call of the trumpeter swan at places in the song. <sildanyari>
GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Perform/Sing: (9)+17: 26
Nokkela smiles, "A tutor of mine once sang that for me when I was younger. You sing it much better than she did." She glances down at the city ahead. "Do you often have cause to come to the city?" she asks. "It would only be right that I reward you for your kindness. And your actions may yet save a second life, and I would certainly repay you for that as well, though I cannot begin to give you what your deeds are worth." <sildanyari>
Ga'Elian chuckles. "I come to the City often enough, although not often with Erithamiel, as horses are the natural prey of griffons and the many horses there don't know that he's trained to not hunt in the City. Anyway, on the matter of payment, You needn't do much. This is what I do, and it didn't cost me anything. On the contrary, I got the pleasure of becoming acquainted with you. If you really want to do something, then how about if you see me in the city about to fall victim to a trickster's schemes, and it's beyond a harmless prank, rescue me from it? There are many aspects of civilization that catch me unawares, and I frequently run afoul of them." By now, the famous northern gates of Alexandria are distantly visible, and a small outcropping of buildings lies at the intersection of a pair of country roads. <sildanyari>
A wry grin crosses Nokkela's face, "You are like many who have, so do not feel alone, but if you need to do business in the city, please, do let me know. Speaking of trickster's schemes, I would be happy to see you paid, if only to cost my father's trip advisor some coin for having tried to play the journey so light in the wallet that it put us in danger. He sees end financial results better than he see people." <sildanyari>
Ga'Elian shrugs, "Thats fine. Whatever you think is just, then. I tell you what, donate it to the Ygdrassil Union, alright?"
Nokkela laughs, "Oh, it won't be just, and I think that we can arrange a donation to that," she says. She catches sight of a deer outside the city, and her head follows it, leaning over and holding a little tighter to Ga'Elian rather than lose her balance. "It would put a nice terd in his tea," she says with a laugh. "We have to interact with the logging business frequently."
Ga'Elian laughs. By now the flying group is descending toward the Temple District, specifically the temple of Gilead. Ga'Elian explains, "We're landing at the temple of Gilead because there is a blessing upon it that settle peace over the animals. Erithamiel won't spook any horses there."
"That seems Prudent," Nokkela agrees. She reaches back with one arm, patting the body of Gerrtan, "Hold fast," she tells him. As they land, she dismounts and helps unstrap him from the griffon. "Thank you once again," Nokkela reiterates. "Your bravery will not soon be forgotten, and should I ever be able to help you, please let me know." She offers a soft smile, and a kiss on the cheek of thanks.