The Heavenly Host

Trevin turned towards the alfar and smiled. “This is our guide, Chief Navigator Bealach.” The alfar — Gastropé guessed he was a nuren alfar, or mountain alfar — bowed to them and nodded politely.

Trevin gestured to a group of six dwarves laughing and joking about thirty feet away. “Cumberlin, Darowin, Farswath, Molche, Tevyn and Carnwath are over there, you’ll have time to get to meet them on the Nimbus, particularly if you play cards.” Trevin grinned. “They are my personal ground detail, even as the aetós are my personal aerial detail.”

“You see over there” — she pointed to one of the four rugs — “Tibault, our procurer.” That seemed like an odd title for the short, barefoot fellow, Gastropé thought to himself. And why was he barefoot on this rocky shore? Yes, he had disproportionately large feet but... oh. Gastropé finally realized that Tibault was a hearthean. Never mind, he thought, shaking his head and laughing at himself. “Procurer” made a lot more sense now.

Trevin was continuing, “Maude is our ship’s healer. I am sure the two of you will have a lot to talk about.” Trevin smiled at Maelen, who nodded back. “Beside her is Alicia, our combat aeromancer.” Trevin looked around, and suddenly pointed a short distance away, where a young human lad appeared to be relieving himself near the forest. “That’s Peter, one of our combat pilots.” Combat pilot? Gastropé wondered.

“There at the final passenger carpet is Trolg.” Trevin gestured to a rather ugly green fellow in leather armor. Was he an orc? Gastropé wondered. That would be rather odd. “Sylenea, who is inspecting the rug right now” — Trevin obviously meant the alfar woman inspecting the edges of the rug — “is another of our combat pilots. That is Tereth sneaking up behind her, unwisely.” Trevin chuckled as the short, brown-haired forest alfar made his way quietly up to Sylenea. “He is a combat geomancer.”

Gastropé shook his head. He had never heard of a combat geomancer; that did not make much sense. Unless maybe you were laying siege to a castle?

“Abbey, who has just pointed Tereth out to Sylenea, is our aquamaster.”

“Aquamaster?” Maelen asked. “So an animage rather than a wizard?” Trevin smiled and nodded. “I’ve never met an aquamaster; I will have to compare some notes with her, most certainly.” Maelen seemed much more interested in this person than any of the others.

Gastropé grinned to himself. He was pretty sure that in Maelen’s case it was the desire to compare notes and learn new information, and not the young lady’s very nice form that had the animage interested.

“Securing the cargo carpets are Marin and Faelen.” Trevin gestured to two other forial alvar who were busy making sure the cargo was stored and secured.

Trevin began looking around the lake, apparently searching for missing people. As she did, a loud huffing noise came from the clearing entrance they had came through. Coming down the path towards them was another hearthean, this one with a backpack twice his height. “Sorry I’m late, so sorry, just had to get a few last minute supplies!” the hearthean huffed as he came up to them.

Trevin shook her in mock disapproval. “Everyone, this is Bernaud, the Nimbus’s galley master.”

“Hello, hello, glad you’re all coming aboard!” Bernaud huffed, still out of breath as he gave a brief salute to each of them.

“You do know they’ve already tarped the cargo carpets?” Trevin asked.

“Hurry, hurry, why is everyone always in such a hurry!” Bernaud shook his head in exasperation. “If the peaberry soup is bland tonight, you’ll wish you hadn’t hurried so much, I can tell you that!” Bernaud marched off towards the carpet with Sylenea on it. “I’ll just strap it down next to me. Won’t be the first time everyone was in a rush...”

Trevin shook her head in amusement at the hearthean. Suddenly a second mountain alfar appeared beside her. Gastropé had not seen him approach. “Area is secure, ma’am,” the alfar said softly. “We are clear for liftoff.”

Trevin smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Seamach.” She looked to the rest of the immediate party. “This is Seamach, our scout and Bealach’s closest confidant. Between the two of them, we always know where we are and what, or who, is nearby.” The nuren alfar gave them a nod and then hurried over to the carpet with Beranud.

“Everyone!” Trevin called out to those around the lake. “It is time — saddle up!” Everyone cheered and Trevin turned back to their group and motioned them towards the closest carpet. “Gnorbert is in front as the pilot, I’m taking the rear as backup. You four in the middle as you like.”

“What’s with all the ropes?” Jenn asked as they approached the large carpet. It was an extremely unusual carpet; most carpets were simply large, flat rugs with some sort of pattern. One just sat or stood wherever one pleased. This one, on the other hand, had seats, or rather pillows in six positions. Those pillows seemed to be woven into the carpet along with a series of ropes, loops and pockets.