Two white-gloved hands reached around his torso, and he felt someone hug against his armor. "I didn't think that anyone in Antras could afford a griffin," the voice added.
"But what did I expect? Even an ex-communicated member of the Fulgur family should have at least this much."
"I told you. No." Vondell tried to unwrap the intruder's arms from his chest plate, however that was proving to be a difficult task with only one hand free to move.
"And I returned the sentiment. No, as well," the voice added, as the arms tightened around VOndell. "We can stay up here, no-ing each other all the way to The Plains. However, I think planning will be a better use of our time."
Vondell scoffed at that. "I don't work with strangers. I'd rather keep the holes in my back to the number they are," he said, still trying to unwrap the arms.
"Absurd. A handsome man such as myself would never resort to such underhanded play. And I certainly don't need to," Gregory replied. "Besides, I wouldn't want the blood of one of the biggest rising names on the continent on my hands."
"I'm landing this thing, and throwing you out. Don't struggle if you want to keep your hands," Vondell warned, before tilting his body slightly forward. The griffin dipped and began a slow descent towards the meadows just outside of Antras.
"You aren't just famous in Leeds, you know. You're famous in The Plains too. I wonder what the Tigerna will think when a giant adorned in full black armor and a nasty personality lands a griffin on his field," Gregory replied. "Nothing apparently."
Vondell stopped struggling with a sigh.
"But, what If there was a way for you to look different? To look more... handsome and less... you," Gregory continued.
Vondell pulled the reigns slightly, and the griffin banked up, starting a new ascent.
"What? You know how to polymorph?" he asked.
He'd planned on leaving the griffin a distance before The Plains and moving under the veil of the night. Though if this Gregory fellow knew how to sculpt flesh, then it would be another story entirely.
Though he hadn't suspected someone who had a commandment to have such a unique grace as well. The gods seemed to be quite interested in this guy, which was all the more reason for him to have his body sculpted and leave.
"If you're wondering whether this is my real face. It is, that I swear. And yes, I can make you look less conspicuous," Gregory replied.
"Fine. Then we'll land and you'll prove to me you aren't lying."
Gregory began laughing at that, a controlled sort of fake laugh. "And I'll also let you hold all my money while I go to the gentlemen's room. Surely there's no treachery abrew," he said.
"You'll keep riding, and I'll keep telling you why you need me. After that, I'll tell you why I need you, or at least any other high-level scion. And after all that's done? Maybe you'll clap for me," he continued.
Vondell's mind felt heavier just listening to him talk. However, he was going to hear him out. Perhaps he had better ideas, and in that case, he would just steal them as well.
"No protests? Good. I'll begin."
"Firstly, I've already arranged for two aliases as cleaners in the Tigerna's council room. It was saddening to find out how little it takes for a men forsake his people," he started. He began fidgeting behind Vondell, and a moment later, two white straps wrapped around Vondell's chest in an X.
"There we go," Gregory whispered, before unwrapping his hands, and fishing through his pockets. He retrieved a couple of bronze marbles and held them in front of Vondell's chest.
Vondell looked down, and reached for them, using his shoulders to shield them from the crashing winds.
"In Mechalos they call these recorders. If we place them in a room and say a special word, they'll capture all the sounds and play them later," he explained. "One of them even allows distant sight. All without the need for being Mechos's scion. A truly strange but wonderful god."
Vondell scoffed at that and handed the balls back to Gregory.
"Those are all nice tricks. But you activate any of those around me, and you'll mark yourself as an enemy," Vondell warned. It was unlikely that Mechos would just randomly be accessing his gifts so far away from his main city, but Vondell wasn't going to risk it.
"And thirdly, I know all about your dramatic need to be dark, and shadowy. I'm willing to make a gentleman's promise and keep everything I find out a secret," he said.
"Surely there's no treachery afoot," Vondell scoffed, mimicking Gregory's playful tone.
"We can swear it on truthsayer's bond. I have a contract irons here with me," Gregory replied.
Vondell went silent for a moment. He had to admit, Gregory made it hard not to partner with him. Truthsayer bonds basically enslaved one party to the other, based on the terms agreed upon. With a single sentence, he could say 'never betray me' and Gregory's mind would be flooded with maddening magic.
"Your tongue's as skilled as a whore's, I'll give you that. But you still haven't explained why you'd go through all this trouble," Vondell replied, shifting his body weight to the left. With that, the griffin banked left and rode on a jet stream of air blowing north towards a massive river.
River Conmael, named after the first Tigerna.
It drew a massive line across the continent, separating the pink and red meadows of Antras from the great green grasslands of The Plains. Even though they were technically in The Plains already, it would still take a few hours before they arrived at the city.
"That leads me to the next part of my little speech, my foul-mouthed friend."
"Why I need you."