Private Tales Watch Out For That Tree

[Asen Illfort]

Asen always prided himself on flying skills. He was the bravest man he knew, admittedly while not knowing many, and he never backed down from a challenge. He lay across Walborga’s back, hips and chest cradled by the saddle and his fingers in her feathers. The peregrine Griffin soared easily, high above Arethil, in the mountains south of the Spine. They were headed for cooler climates, after so long living in the desert. Asen wanted to see the rest of the world, and take everything in.

The stream they found in the clouds was...exhilarating. High above gods and men, a high shaft of air blew them toward the mountains. Walborga handled them with ease, her wings wide to catch the swirling air. Asen sat up a bit in spite of himself, blinking into the wind, and a boyish laugh escaping him. He put up one hand to feel the air rip through his fingers.

It went dead all too soon. The frantic rush that had been holding Walborga up in the sky went as cold and thin as though they were standing still. Asen grabbed the saddle as they hurtled downward, the Griffin struggling to find some sort of purchase in the air. She’d catch enough wind under her wings, and it would fail again, sending them earthward. Walborga screamed in frustration and clapped her wings to her side, heading in for a dive. It would be the fastest way to get them back to lower altitude and thicker air, though the change was making Asen’s stomach feel as though it was fighting its way out of his mouth.

He gritted his teeth, but he could feel the saddle underneath him. Something was wrong. He was about to shift his grip and grab her feathers rather than the saddle, when he felt the snap. The leather pad tore off of her back, and he was free.

Walborga’s surprised shriek was really the last thing he heard. The saddle was broad enough to catch some air, and it slowed his descent, but pine trees were far too damn close.

“Fuck!”

Asen struck the first tree hard, a branch snapping across his face and shoulder. He tumbled down, and got the distinct feeling of falling sideways. Branches beat him bloody, and one arm was wrenched in a way that felt very, very damn wrong. He slammed into hard packed earth, and the world went black.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

As he started to rouse he would heard small snippets of a voice speaking in elvish. One half of a conversation with a silent partner.

"[Its a human...no a human isn't an elf...I know you can't tell the difference but look at the ears...or don't because you're bored...are you flapping your wings because he doesn't have wings because he doesn't have wings because I have noticed that. Humans can't fly...oh you're bored. Fine then Vaxor.]"

The Eagle understood elvish perfectly fine, even if he couldn't copy it to communicate back. He also lost interest in elven - or human - matters very quickly.

Fynaurie turned her aether-glaive around and prodded him on the ribs with the blunt end.

"You look like you're still alive," she said in perfect human tongue. Fynaurie had been on a solo patrol. They had been ranging wide, trying to deal with some poisonous wyverns that had been seen around the mountains.

Fynaurie was wearing her flight leathers. They were thick to protect against both the biting winds and the occasional biting rohk. She was still wearing her sky elf goggles, a single carved piece of bone that covered most of the face visible.

 

[Asen Illfort]

Asen groaned. That...hadn’t been a good fall. He’d shattered an arm, at the very least. His arm was numb up to the shoulder and his ribs felt like- “AH!” He cried out as she punted him with the butt of a weapon. Those were definitely broken! He drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking at the woman who addressed him. Oh good, because he’d been sure he’d gone deaf from sheer agony.

“Oh aye...still livin’.” He grunted, blinking and looking at the Eagle. He cleared his throat a bit and imitated an injured eagle. Bit too much wedgetail and not enough Golden Eagle but he hoped the bird got the idea. He needed help. “Listen love, got me arm jammed up right nastily. Ribs ya jabbed’re broke. Got ta find my catbird. She dropped me in the air.” He grunted, and attempted to sit up. He laid back down on his back with a loud groan.

Sitting up wasn’t happening. “Give a man a hand yeah?” He squeezed his eyes shut. Gods, that hurt.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Jammed up right nastily..." She repeated under her breath. She would tell anyone that her common tongue was quite poor, but she actually spoke it quite perfectly. However, her experience of accents and slang was non-existent. She had met two humans, been to one town and spoke the human tongue as one of their monarchs might.

What was even more bemusing was the bird noise he made. Fynaurie put her goggles away and drew back her hood, letting silver hair cascade down loosely. It never stayed organised for long.

"Why are you making bird noises?" she asked. "What's a cat bird?"

She didn't feel as if he was particularly threatening, especially as she had found him. The sky elves, particularly the Dragoons were taught to be wary of outsiders. They locked themselves away in the last two towers they had and watched the outside world with suspicion.

Vaxor also cocked his head to one side. The great eagles, large enough to carry a cow in one claw, and their riders had very one sided conversations. They were intelligent creatures and understood elven almost perfectly. However their riders could only pick up the rough intent of their cries and none of the nuance.

 

[Asen Illfort]

Asen looked at them with some exasperation. “Askin’ yer bird for help yeah? Ain’t sure I got the accent right. Birds’re different; don’t like the language messed up if you can help it.” He muttered. He used his good arm to slowly push himself up into a sitting position, letting out a slow breath. It felt like someone had lodged a blade into his ribs. “Catbird, yeah?” He thought for a moment. People called them something else... “-Griffin. Fell off a Griffin, love.”

He grinned at the eagle, and made another noise for aid. He was trying to be endearing, but lord knew what the giant eagle heard. He’d never encountered his kind before. He switched and made a distinct sort of chortling whistle in his throat, trying to compliment him like a female eagle might. “Ya got a handsome bird there, love. The eagle ain’t bad either.” Asen winked at her. She was a pretty thing. Of course he’d be rescued by a beautiful girl who also rode the skies.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

She might have found the play on words amusing of it hadn't gone over her head. Vaxor was entirely unimpressed with his continued noises. The proud eagle had spotted something moving above the canopy. He didn't like anything being airborne above him.

"[He says you're very handsome,]" she called to Vaxor. The vain bird rather suddenly switched to being interested in the matters of small creatures. He spread his wings, as wide as a house, to try and show off the feathers that had been dyed crimson and turquoise to show his rank in the Dragoons.

Fynaurie rolled her eyes. She set the butt of her glaive into the ground and used it for support to crouch down beside him.

"Didn't see a Griffin. We can find them. What's broken?"

Her kind had a much shorter life expectancy than most elves. Not for anything genetic but because they lived dangerous lives. Few made it past three hundred. They were also very pragmatic about broken bones and injuries.

 

[Asen Illfort]

Asen laughed, undaunted at Vaxor ignoring him. He saw how the eagle spread his wings and showed off his plumage. “Oh aye, right pretty.” He chuckled, grinning widely. Wally got like that too, ignoring his noises until he started complimenting her. The elvish girl grabbed his attention kneeling down like that.

“Ach, just an arm and the old heart cage. Set this right quick, get it splinted and my ribs wrapped and I’ll be good as rain in a week. Few weeks.” Asen told her. “Ain’t likin my chances layin’ here though.”

Walborga was scanning the trees above them, trying to find Asen. She was cursing herself for getting carried away. She’d been able to glide down. Lord knows where that silly human had gotten to after the saddle broke. She couldn’t see him, not through the dense tree cover, but she tried anyway.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

Fynaurie's mouth moved as she repeated his words inside her own head. The old heart cage took a moment for her to kill over. She spoke the trade tongue, but he had a strange way of using it.

"I will help you find your griffin and set your arm," she declared plainly. He didn't seem like a particularly threat, but her people were deeply suspicious of other creatures in their skies. Some dragons had moved in a year ago but had long since departed.

"[Watch him,]" she said to Vaxor sharply in elvish. This time the eagle paid attention. He knew the difference between idle chatter and a command. Not that he always paid attention to commands. She set the lance down out of his reach and knelt down on the side of his injured arm.

Fynaurie was not particularly gentle in rolling up his sleeve.

 

[Asen Illfort]

“Thanks love.” Asen smiled at her. Must be an off day for him; she was acting completely immune to his charms. Her eagle snapped at attention hearing elvish, though. He smiled at the bird; he liked birds. All sorts. Eagles and other raptors were standoffish and proud, often vain creatures. Catbird or no, an eagle was an eagle. If he wasn’t mistaken, one that would absolutely take his head off if he said the wrong thing.

“Aye me love, ain’t gonna hurt her. Harmless as a jay.” He said soothingly to the great eagle. “Pretty one ain’t ya-ow!” He flinched when she yanked his sleeve up. Those were black spots at the edge of his vision weren’t they? He blinked them away, stunned by the pain that shot across his arm. “Gods pissin’, woman. Give a man a flag first yeah? Fuck me sideways.” He grumbled, but let her look at it.

The flesh was beginning to turn sickly shades of green and purple. His humerus was shattered badly, but the speed of his fall had helped with a clean break. Asen glanced at it and went a bit pale. That was...not good. “Easy on me, pretty bird. Dont guess in’ you have any poppy? A nip of somethin’?” He asked, a little shakily. He feared getting that set without a tug of whiskey.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Would that they let us take drink when on patrol," she grumbled. Fynaurie ensured his arm was resting comfortably on his chest and stood up. This time, after seeing the break, she used at least a modicum of care.

"He doesn't understand human I'm afraid," she said as she walked around to the bags Vaxor carried. There were some tinctures in there that might help with the bruising. There wasn't anything that would help with the pain.

"You seem to be talking a lot because of the pain," she observed, trying not to smile in amusement. He wasn't dying but it still wasn't fair to laugh at his misfortune. Especially as they still didn't know where his mount was.

"But you're probably going to want to bite down on this," she said, snapping a stick into some smaller pieces.

 

[Asen Illfort]

“Oh aye, plenty birds don’t speak man’s tongue but that ain’t mean they don’t understand tone.” Asen grunted. At least she’d been more careful touching his arm this time. He winced looking at it; that wasn’t a good break. No wonder he couldn’t feel anything but pain past the elbow. He didn’t dare move the arm; twitching so much as a finger would likely knock him out.

It seemed he wasn’t lucky enough to get any drugs either, but at least he’d made the woman smile. “My mum tells me I chatter like a damn gull.” He said, his cheery tone belying the pallor in his face. “What’s life without a convo yeah? What brought you over here then love? Thought I was the only one ridin’ winds.”

Asen watched her snap sticks with no small amount of trepidation. If he was going to be biting down on those, passing out was going to be a real possibility. He already felt dizzy. “Catbird will be lookin’ for me. She’s a right handsome thing; built like a falcon, got them hard mean little eyes. Wally’s a good’un, just ain’t got time for a lot of my prattling.”

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Understanding and paying any attention are very different matters," she huffed. Vaxor was as stubborn and troublesome as she was. They were a good match. She put the stick down beside him along with some bandages and the tincture.

The un-stoppered the bottled and rubbed some into the skin. There were only minor breaks, but they would aid in healing and help prevent infection.

"We've been watching for some wyverns in these parts," she replied. Her kind were very protective of the locations of their towers. Those towers had been built long before elven civilisation, far taller than anything even the humans made. Her kind kept themselves to themselves.

"By 'we' I mean myself and Vaxor," she replied a little too quickly.

"Bite," she instructed firmly, holding the stick in front of his lips. "I'm not very good at this it might take a few goes."

 

[Asen Illfort]

Asen smirked at her little slip. We. “Oh aye, partner’s feathers are rank-stained just for a bit of show. Scare the wyverns.” He chuckled. “Ain’t none of my business what clan ya come from, love. Ain’t got no ties to no one myself. No one to tell your secrets to. Though might want to tilt your head a bit; Wally and I explorin’ these areas means we’ll see your people eventually. No hidin from a peregrine.” He patted her, and turned his attention back to the task at hand. The task he was absolutely afraid of, since that tincture didn’t appear to be numbing.

“Fuck me, ya lead with ‘I’m not good at this’? You don’t have any healers do ya?” He took the stick and winced. Nothing for it but to just bite down and hope for the best.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Alright time to stop talking now," Fynaurie said, rolling her eyes.

Fuck-damnit

She ran her hands as gently as she could along his forearm, but there was a limit to how much she could avoid the injury. She was strong for her size, but still a slight elf. Fynaurie felt around the break.

"Sorry, it isn't set well," she said, bracing herself. Fynaurie met his eyes as she put all her weight into trying to set it straight.

 

[Asen Illfort]

A loud cry tore from Asen’s throat, and the branch cracked in his mouth. With a loud sound that disturbingly reminded him of rocks grinding on each other, his bones set. Asen spat out the stick, screamed, and promptly passed out.

His cry carried high above the trees, and Walborga caught snatches of it. The scream. That had to be Asen! She drifted close, ears pricked, and saw the eagle. Her ears pinned against her neck and she dove, wings to her sides and talons out. They weren’t large, but her kind killed by hitting other objects at high speed. If that eagle had so much as touched Asen, she’d give it a slow death!

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

Fynaurie gently laid the arm back across the man's chest. She didn't feel at all queasy, though she did wish she might have had to strength to set it more quickly.

Broken bones were very, very common among her people.

She stepped away and picked up her glaive. Vaxor turned his head sharply. Fynaurie caught the silhouette moving through the canopy.

Vaxor was immediately in a panic at having another flying creature above him. His weapons were his talons so he spread his wings ready to give himself life to strike back.

It was big. Her instinct was to cry out in elven, but if it was the man's mount then it stood to reason it would not understand. Fynaurie had only met dragons and rohk. She didn't even know if a Griffin could understand a language at all.

"No! No!" she shouted out. She darted under Vaxor's wings and pointed her glaive to the sky. She was so small before the span of his wings.

 

[Asen Illfort]

Get away from him! The Griffin screeched, crashing into the eagle talons first. She was face to face with the other, but her small ripping beak was faster and more maneuverable. Her claws clutched his feathers, wings out to help her keep her balance. She felt something small glance up her chest, between her shoulder and neck. The glaive didn’t bite deep, but it did bite. She backed away and landed, shaking her head and fluffing her feathers. What are you? Slavers? She snapped at Fynaurie, in perfect Common.

Walborga spotted Asen laying on the ground. He wasn’t conscious. Blood dripped from her cut, but she ignored it. She circled around to Asen, standing over her rider and mantling her wings in a clear display of ownership. She hissed at the pair of them, and bent her head to nip at Asen’s hair. He was out. She didn’t know how injured he was. Could he even be moved? She tucked her head further and touched her cut; now that she was standing still it was incredibly painful. She looked up with her own blood on her beak, ears still pinned.

I’ll fight the pair of you!

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

Fynaurie was trained in fighting with Vaxor, but to be in the air and on his back. Down on the ground the sense of power the two creatures clashing conveyed was terrifying. The beat of a wing could have snapped her in half.

Still, she darted beneath Vaxor and levelled her glaive as the Griffin darted to her rider. Vaxor turned with a hop but he wasn't moving right. Fynaurie could sense that even seeing him move in her peripheral vision. He was hurt.

Tiny Fynaurie drew her lips back into a snarl. She anchored the glaive against her outturned foot and levelled the point at the griffin. The patterns etched into the blade started to glow a dull orange as the magic was focused.

If it was the choice of Vaxor or the Asen she would choose her rohk in a heart beat.

"We found him hurt and I looked after him!" Fynaurie snapped. "Stop it! Don't want to fight!"

"Calm down," she snapped at Vaxor in elvish. The feathers across his chest and neck were soaked in his own blood and he still drew himself up.

 

[Asen Illfort]

Walborga fluffed up the feathers along her neck and back. She was trying to look bigger, even if it made the cut along her shoulder and neck more obvious. She couldn’t lose Asen. Not now. She had her ears pinned, mouth agape slightly. That bitch could just try and stick her with that! She did listen to what the woman had to say, however. She cautiously stepped back enough to look at Asen, specifically his arm. Someone had set that for him. She could see the bruising. She looked back up at the woman.

Yes, she could see her being the type to get lured in by her friend’s pretty face and easy words. She sat down next to Asen, giving Vaxor a glare. The girl might have helped her friend, but was the eagle just hovering nearby in the hopes of a free meal?

He can’t stay here and he can’t fly with that arm. Walborga said slowly, keeping her eye on the glaive. He needs a healer, and a bed. We have coin. Or, I should say he has coin.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Okay then," went Fynaurie. She stood upright rather suddenly. She was quick to make up her mind and even quicker to change it again.

Turning sharply towards Vaxor, her concern immediately went to his injuries. The stubborn Eagle wasn't done yet.

He let out another shrill cry, drawing himself up ready to strike out. The griffin had come from above. Now it was at his level he wanted to be the first to attack.

Fynaurie rattled off a string of sharp elven words. Before the enormous rohk she was a sliver of silver thread. She held her ground.

Upon explaining the situation in elven, Vaxor seemed to calm down. When he sharply reared again Fynaurie wagged a finger at his face and made a harsh sound in the back of her throat. It looked as if Vaxor was going to bite that hand, eyes locked on her and beak open.

"Can't fly?" Fynaurie finally asked over her shoulder. "It's only a broken arm and some ribs. Tsch, he can walk with me to the nearest village but it's a good few hours."

 

[Asen Illfort]

Walborga saw the great rohk behind her rise up and fluff his feathers. She did the same, her little ears flat in her feathers. Thankfully, his handler seemed to calm him. Walborga hissed a bit, and nibbled a bit at Asen’s hair. He lost the saddle, and he needs both hands to hold on. She explained a bit snappily. The next village? Would they even understand? She weighed her options for a moment and eyed the woman. She trusted another flier over backcountry hedge witches and their healing magic any day.

Not only that, but she didn’t know if she could balance him on her back for a few hours. He certainly wasn’t up to standing. Walborga sat next to her rider. Do you have healers where you’re from for this sort of injury? I can’t imagine you don’t fall off those things a time or two...such short backs. She flicked her long, tufted tail in irritation. I don’t have much faith in country healers. Asen is a beloved chick to his mother. If she were to see him now I’d lose both wings. He needs to be healed, and healed well, not like those farmers who have clicking wrists.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"He is only a bit broken," Fynaurie replied. It was a phrase they told the young flyers on their first crash and break.

She reached for Vaxor but the giant Eagle recoiled.

"You've hurt Vaxor. Home is far and I'm not flying there until I've checked him over," she said, this time her voice was hard. For another of her kind she would have pushed him, but she wasn't about to risk their lives for an outsider.

"You know what they'd say for this? Lots of rest. I haven't got anything with me for the pain."

She sighed. She already felt bad for not being helpful. Her people were pragmatic and not exceptional with magic.

"We could...make a sled and drag him to town and find a bed and some ale to keep him comfortable."

 

[Asen Illfort]

Vaxor hurt me. I only saw the rohk, not you. If you saw a Griffin next to one of your fallen riders, another predator, what would you think? Walborga said sharply. She had no pity for the great eagle. If the situations were reversed, there was no doubt in her mind the bird would have come crashing down through the trees with his talons out, ready to rip her apart and save his master.

She nodded at the sled idea and walked around the area. She was limping slightly, but she could feel the blood clotting already. The weapon was sharp, and that had been a good thing. She couldn’t feel any ragged edges to the cut. She needed stitches, but she wasn’t about to let the girl anywhere near her with a needle, and Asen wouldn’t be able to coordinate that for a bit yet. They’d also lost their saddle, with their saddlebags, somewhere around here.

I will find branches for a sled. You look for our saddle, it should have a small bottle of poppy in it if it didn’t get smashed. It also has a feather from his mother; I’d really rather not lose that. It’s long, flat and wide like a child’s sled, with two rectangular bags on either end. Use your eagle, he’s got good eyes and he can still toddle around. Walborga told her, and began gathering long boughs. Some of which were probably broken by his fall. She kept an eye out for the saddle; it would have one gigantic down feather tied to it like a charm.

The Griffin who raised Asen was an albatross, the largest species in Arethil. The down feather Asen had helped her shed was one of her smallest...and still the size of a dinner plate.

Fynaurie

 

[Fynaurie]

"Sorry for stabbing you," she said quietly before turning away to look around.

Fynaurie huffed. The jumped up flying kitten was right, but she didn't feel happy about it. Yes, Vaxor would have attacked her. Yes, she had suggested finding a sled and now it was the griffin's orders. It wasn't entirely rational, but Fynaurie didn't tell well to orders no matter where they came from.

"We need to look for some bags," she told Vaxor in elven. Whether the Eagle agreed or not was another matter.

It could not have gone far. Fynaurie looked up to see the path he had smashed through the canopy. That must have hurt, but at least it meant he was more than a bloody smear across the grass.

She tried beyond his landing point, to see if it had fallen further, but found nothing. Fynaurie doubled back to try the other way. She checked the man and he was still unconscious. Thinking back to the griffin's comments, Fynaurie supposed she could see how he could use his looks and charm to get his way. It had been rather less effective whilst he was lying broken in a crater.

It didn't take as long as she might have thought. It rather stood out with the feather.

"Found it!" she cried out. It seemed rather heavy so instead she found the bottle of poppy, still in tact.

"How much of this should he have?" she asked the griffin as she marched back to Asen, kneeling beside his head. "Oi, wake up for a bit."

 

[Asen Illfort]

Dont be sorry. I’m not sorry for attacking you. Walborga sniffed, and turned to investigate the area. She would need help to lash the boughs together but she was off to a good start. She carefully measured the first against Asen’s body to make sure she was picking the right lengths, and began making her pile. She also gathered moss from the tree trunks to pad it and make it a little more bearable. It was likely she was going to be the one pulling him, and...well...she wasn’t much of a dray beast.

Thank the gods, the woman had found the saddle. She brought back the poppy bottle and Walborga immediately went to fetch the saddle. It was important to Asen, and it had been difficult for him to make. She wasn’t about to abandon it. She came back to find the woman attempting to wake him.

Asen grinned sleepily and patted her thigh with his good hand. “Eh, not like ya to disturb a man sleepin. Feel like I was in a damn fight...”

You fell off, remember? Give him a few drops. Nothing too much or he’ll throw up. Just a bit on his tongue. Walborga instructed.

“That my catbird?” Asen chuckled, and winced.

Fynaurie