“Alright, time to meet people,” Trevin said. “You already know Hethfar, Danfaêr, Treyfoêr, Lythdaér, Raêfaér and Foéren.” She gestured to the six aetós. “This is Gnorbert,” she said, gesturing to a young-looking gnome coming up beside her. “He’s the Nimbus’s chief engineer.” Although young was an odd term for any gnome; they all looked old by human standards.
“Hulloo!” Gnorbert said.
“You met his father yesterday, Gnorman,” Trevin said. “Standing behind him is his apprentice, Gnermin.” A smallish, apparently shy gnome peeked out from behind Gnorbert and waved hello at them.
A very tall, thin alfar with long, brilliantly white hair walked up behind Gnorbert. He was dressed in a rather ornate long coat with a frilly mauve shirt underneath.
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.
As Gnorbert sat down and started moving the ropes around him, Gastropé realized the ropes were really harnesses to keep one locked onto the carpet. That was very strange; normally carpets had their own magical field that kept people stable on the carpet, and you did not need straps to hold on.
Trevin smiled and answered Jenn’s question. “These are combat carpets. We do not have the normal stabilization spells on them that consumer-grade carpets use. Obviously we do have some, but not to the point that they interfere with maneuverability. Combat carpets have to be very agile and so we have harnesses and handholds for people to hang on to.” Trevin chuckled. “You will also notice a number of pockets and tie loops in front of each position. These pockets are for material components, wands and other paraphernalia that the occupants might need during battle.”
“You mean wizards are strapped to this thing casting spells and blasting lightning bolts?” Gastropé asked in wonder.
“Exactly!” She shrugged. “Casting from a carpet isn’t that uncommon, but in those cases the carpet is being used more as a floating platform. In this case, we are diving in, striking and then pulling out fast.”
“And this is a common occurrence?” Maelen asked with concern in his voice as he tried to figure out the harness.
“In Astlan? Not since the days of the Anilords, with some of the other adjacent planes, on occasion. In particular, some jötunn tribes can be problematic.” She paused. “Here, let me help you with that.” She came over and helped Maelen adjust his harness; she then went around and ensured everyone was secure.
Trevin sat down in the rear seat and fastened her harness. “Very well, Gnorbert. Take us away!”