Erithamiel and Airships

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It's Tariday, Pryntar 14 11:51:05 1019. The full moon is up. The tide is low and rising. The air is damp and cold, the sky a translucent grey, brighter to the south. Nothing casts a shadow.

H03: Eldwyn Road


Ga'Elian is riding his griffon companion through the air, approaching from the west. He comes in for a landing near the edge of the river, a little off from the road proper, where the mount goes to drink. The elf looks around, first at the ferryboat, ehich is about half-way across at the moment heading toward the eastern bank, then back toward the stables.

Garak is standing outside of the stables speaking with another Arvek Nar, a female, and the latter's horse. In fairness Garak seems to be saying as much to the horse as he does the rider. All three turn and look when the Griffon lands, and first the Arvek and then Garak put a hand on the horse's neck, from opposite sides. Garak says a few more things and then heads over to Ga'Elian. He raises a hand in greeting as he approaches. "Good afternoon."

Ga'Elian dismounts and nods at the approaching priest. "Well met, Vanguard. Is all well this day?"

Garak nods in return. "More or less," he replies. He glances back towards the stables, by this time the other Arvek has led her horse inside. Garak seems to relax slightly. "I don't think I've seen you and your mount here before." He glances up at the skies briefly, then towards the city. Then his gaze traces up to the mountains and the airstation and then finally back to the sky, above the stables area...mapping out the path Ga'Elian and his griffon may have taken, perhaps, but as one not accustomed to flying himself might do.

Ga'Elian bows. "Then I assume we've simply managed to not cross paths ere now, at least not here. I am Ga'Elian, a hunter, and this," he motions to the griffon, "is Erithamiel, or Silverbeak in the Trade tongue. In the last year or so, I have had much occasion to pass through or over this place, as many people do, going about business, and from time to time I keep watch on the traffic hereabouts or hunt in the woods not far from here."

Garak nods in understanding. "I believe we've met before. And perhaps even adventured together. In lands outside of Rune or Dun Mordren. Or even both. Although I suppose there were so many adventurers in the so-called 'Irregulars', and you would stand out more than I," he nods towards the griffon. Then he ventures, "Have you always been a rider of such creatures?"

Ga'Elian rubs his chin, "Perhaps. And, no. I remember always being attracted to griffons, but Erithamiel is the only one I've ridden consistently. When I first ventured away from the lands of my tribe, I traveled on horseback frequently, or on foot, but Erithamiel is more to me than a mere steed. He is my comrade in battle, my companion in the hunt, and a special sort of friend. And while he is physically a superior specimen of his race, he has the mind of an animal rather than the intelligence of most griffons."

Garak raises his eyebrows. "I see. And how long have you been together? I don't remember ever seeing you without him, so before you came to Alexandria I assume?" He glances back towards the Airstation. "I must admit I was a bit surprised when I first learned how Alexandria has made flight and air travel so accessible, to everyone." He considers for a moment and then adds, "'Mystified' might be a better word."

Ga'Elian smiles. "It wasn't long after I first came to the City. That is true, but at first, he was yet too young to have full flight, and for a while we would practice gliding down to here from the mountain summits. And yes, more than a few times we have had air traffic to deal with, between the aeries of the egalrin over by Fate's Spire and those bulky artifice contraptions that are constantly arriving and departing the City's northeastern quarter."

Garak chuckles. "Bulky perhaps, but they can carry a company, at least. If they're archers or rifleman, they never have to get close to the enemy. To say nothing of siege weaponry affixed to the hull." Garak seems more and more excited as he goes on, but then seems to come to his senses. He chuckles. "Forgive me, when I say I was excited at the idea, I'm afraid it was mostly for the military applications."

Ga'Elian shrugs. "You're right, I'm sure, but I still find the ways of the City... um, alien. Which is to say, I am not accustomed to these things, or the thinking that produces them.