Troublemaker Trixie

Author’s note: This story is my submission for the April 19 2023 prompt on Iron Age Media titled “The Instigator”

Author: James Meyer

            The morning sun sprinkled through the final bits of cloud cover, blanketing the humble stone cottage. The home is a split-level design, two stories tall and extra at its highest point and neatly squared off. Surrounding three-fourths of the abode is a variety of fruit and vegetable gardens. The building’s lower, rectangular portion rests perpendicular to a dirt highway.

            Along one of the squared sides is a raised cellar door. A wooden run is joined to it. Built into one of the short walls is a small swinging gate. The run’s glass roof allows sunlight in without letting its occupant escape. The brightness and warmth showering the pen’s interior give Trixaden beautiful feelings. The dawn’s light always felt terrific. She stretches forward and backward, then rolls over both left and right before stopping on her pack to paw upward toward the sky.

            After her moments of play, Trixie rights herself and wanders outside the enclosure. Slinking lowly like a predator, she follows the house’s perimeter to the rectangular half. With the help of another convenient door, the griffon sneaks inside with nobody around. Thinking quickly, she darts underneath the nearest table. Pausing momentarily, she skulks along a long wall towards the store’s back door. She curls against the corner, poised and ready to pounce. The door opens. With a great shriek, Trixaden leaps toward her unaware prey.

            Unfortunately for the young griffon, she expected her quarry to be taller. Instead of catching her desired human target, she soars over a female Gnome. Not prepared for the flight, only a moment passes before Trixie crashes into the opposite wall a foot and a half above the floor. In another moment, she falls to the ground in a crumpled ball. Momentarily dazed, she rights herself and turns around before realizing her plan failed.

“Ha ha ha, oops. Sorry Zanna,” Her imaginary cunning quickly replaced with sheepishness.

            “You’re going to break something with your little sneak attacks Troublemaker. Or worse, hurt yourself,” scolded the little gnome.

            “I’m not gonna hurt myself,” the griffon bragged.

            “Oh, don’t admonish Trixie too harshly, dear,” Zanna’s husband Kellen countered.

            “She is a worse hellion than a displacer beast Kellen. She’ll never stop.”

            “She’s just honing her natural instincts Zanna. She’ll grow out of it.”

            “That may be true my little friend, but there will be time for proper practice later. Come Trixaden, please help put the store together,” requested Clemmons, the griffon’s master.

            The creature obeyed the polite command. Trixie couldn’t complain about living with Clemmons and the gnomes. They fed her, sheltered her, and kept harm away. After decades of adventuring, Zanna and Kellen established the Daergel Alchemy and Adventuring Shoppe a century and a half ago. Honest gnomes who enjoyed life to the fullest. Clemmons shared a similar story to them but was forced to retire after a nearly disastrous encounter. However, he liked keeping in touch with old ranger friends.

            The emporium’s workers quickly readied themselves for the day’s activities. Each day brought different odds on who could step through their doors. The visitors were often everyday travelers along House Orien’s trade road between Tarandro and Korranberg. Sometimes adventurers stopped in looking to sell or trade for unique wares. Without question though, the most special guests bore the crest of Orien and needed an emergency resupply. Helping them curried small but consistent favor, which could be occasionally leveraged for special magic items.

            The store completed preparations well early of their usual opening hour. Perhaps good luck smiled on them because an armed convoy of House Orien visited shortly after, wanting extra projectiles, shields, and medical items. Along with them followed a merchant caravan claiming to need rations, lumber, and carpenter supplies. The Orien caravan captain, Telles, said they would remove a newly built bandit outpost extorting smaller traveling parties and promised to refurbish the Daergel’s shop once the danger passed. The storekeepers thanked him for their generosity and wished them luck.

            Once this combined group left, the thoroughfare’s traffic slowed. Clemmons, Kellen, and Zanna used the lapse to finish latent projects. The first two held experience in simple alchemy and brewing, so they completed the tenth vial of a greater healing potion set. Zanna meanwhile finalized the last piece in a studded leather armor trio. This set would be shipped to Korranberg for enchantment. Magical light armor was among the most asked-about items from adventuring parties.

            Trixaden wandered aimlessly around the shop, creating small bouts of mischief. First, she slinked behind a rack of maces and knocked them over. Then she hid Zanna’s leatherworking clamp down in the house’s cellar. Lastly, she scared Kellon by nearly knocking his most oversized potion vial onto the floor. In between these devious ploys, she played outside. Soaring to and fro from atop the store’s roof. Practicing her natural flight skills proved one of the most fun things she could do alone.

            Another group arrived at the emporium shortly before midday. This party comprised young artists going to spend a multi-night trip in the woods looking for inspiration. The whole group, especially a half-elf musician named Lancaster, was enthralled by Trixie. Seeing a griffon with their own eyes inspired them. Basking and flaunting in the limelight, Trixie strutted and posed with youthful grace. The artists departed with a happy start to their own adventure.

            A trio of gnomes from Madame Alabaster’s Jewelry Emporium visited next. Adventurers liked to pawn off small gemstones for quick coins. So the emporium paid a small premium for whatever Daergel’s collected to repurpose them. The amount for this workweek was less than the past few workweeks, but the gnomes paid their worth and quickly departed.

            The sun traveled past noon and into the early afternoon without more visitors to the Shoppe. The storekeepers kept working on their personal projects while Trixaden helped herself to more trouble. The opening scene in her second act of troublemaking was to dump out three full quivers of arrows from a high shelf. She then set her sights on scattering the housekeeping tools in the residence part of the building. This act infuriated Zanna especially.

            The afternoon sun trekked across the sky, and still no guests. Trixie wandered outside again to fly around the store. Scanning all around, she noticed nothing. She began wondering why people would be staying away. While slow days were common, today felt strangely void. All the guests arrived in the morning, while the afternoon wanderers had not visited. Where were the highway travelers? The sellsword groups? The House Orien baggage trains?

            Suddenly, off in the distance, the griffon spotted something. A herd of deer fled away from the woods. Describing the sight as abnormal undersold its strangeness. The Daergel’s shop lay about one-quarter of the distance between Thurimbar and Tarandro, closer to the larger hamlet. This distance allowed the store to receive city folk and maintain a watchful eye on the forest to the east. The latter task was a favor to Clemmons’s ranger enclave, who worked with Orien to keep the thoroughfare safe. Trixaden returned to the emporium.

            “Clemmons? The wildlife is leaving the forest,” she explained.

            “They get a little close occasionally Trixie. It’s fine. Just don’t go after them,” replied the former ranger.

            “No. The deer are actually running away from the woods. I just saw a dozen scamper away,” the griffon elaborated.

            This information caused a concerned expression to form on Clemmon’s face. He set down the herbalist’s mortar and wandered outside. The other three waited, curious to see if this was one of Trixie’s jokes or a genuine concern. Two minutes passed at most. Then Clemmons returned inside. His face changed from confusion and anxiety to worry. It was not a good sign.

            “Is she telling the truth Clemmons?” asked Zanna.

            “Yes she is Zanna. But it wasn’t just deer. Birds, bears, I think I even saw a pack of wolves. Something is disrupting the environment,” A tone of grimness underlaid the ranger’s observations.

            “It takes something huge to scare the animals. You don’t think it has something to do with the bandit group the Orien captain mentioned earlier?” spoke Kellen.

            “It must either be a large group of highwaymen, or they’re being helped by someone far worse,” offered Clemmons.

            “What do we do?” asked Trixie.

            “Remain vigilant. I’ll send a message to Thurimbar. Maybe they will know something,” said Clemmons.

            The human left the storefront. He returned a few minutes later, clothed in his old ranger garb. Everything from the breastplate armor to his trusted longbow. The act stunned the griffon and the gnomes. Clemmons only retrieved his gear if he believed a severe threat would soon come. Kellen and Zanna shared a look. Silently, they agreed to follow suit. The husband collected a unique set of alchemist supplies, while the wife gathered a magical hand crossbow and cloak.

            The trio continued working on their projects only long enough to reach good stopping points. Afterward, they put up their tools and began keeping watch for more trouble. Of course, they would still greet any customer who entered, but now Clemmons, Zanna, and Kellen expected danger to visit. The following guest kindly gave himself away with panicked shouts as the familiar voice of Lancaster sounded from behind the store. The husband and wife moved to the residence to preview the commotion, returning with an exhausted bard several moments later.

            “You like you’ve run all the way from Sharn boy,” commented Kellen.

            “I feel that way,” confirmed the exhausted half-elf.

            “You’re safe now. Calm down and focus. Tell us what happened,” commanded Clemmons.

            After catching his breath and discarding his discarded overcoat, Lancaster recounted his story. After visiting the Daergel’s shop, he and his fellow artists wandered into the woods. At first, everything seemed to be calm. The troupe sketched nature, composed songs, and studied lore. Then a druid appeared. Even though his mannerisms were polite, something felt unusual about him. The bards hosted the druid for a while, but a warforged joined it and demanded all their money and goods. When the bards scoffed and tried to leave, the druid turned the forest against them.

            “I turned and ran for my life. I think a couple might be dead, but most should still be alive,” the half-elf concluded his tale.

            “How exactly did this druid control the forest?” questioned Clemmons.

            “He turned the grass into sharp vines, trying to entangle us. He also called forth aggressive animals and directly controlled a nasty bear,” described Lancaster.

            “Do you remember if either one had symbols on their clothing or armor?” asked Zanna.

            “I think the warforged had an icon on his gear, but it was hidden under a cape, so I couldn’t get a good look at it,” the bard rubbed his head uncertainly.

            “A warforged and a druid. What a strange combination to be joining forces,” mused Kellen.

            “We must be alert for more signs of trouble. Therefore, I think we should begin turning back travelers,” explained Clemmons.

            Zanna and Kellen agreed with the statement, and the trio fully armed themselves. They equipped themselves with all their old adventuring gear and offered Lancaster whatever he needed. Trixie hadn’t seen this behavior before. Clemmons had sometimes retrieved his longbow previously but for defensive purposes against unruly hagglers. Now things were becoming severe.

            Another hour passed with no new signs of activity from visitors or survivors. Zanna and Kellen left to lock down the residence while Clemmons kept watch from the store. Lancaster practiced some bardic magic using a flute. All the griffon could do was help with maintaining a lookout. The stillness hanging over the situation was abnormal to what normally overlay the shop. As she peered out the window, she spotted something.

            “Hey, what’s that?” she gestured a paw outside.

            “It’s Captain Telles,” quietly exclaimed Clemmons.

            Beckoning for Lancaster to follow him, the ranger quickly departed the shop. Still looking from inside, Trixaden watched as the half-elf began supporting the House Orien employee. With Clemmons giving overwatch, the pair helped the man walk back to the store. Preparing for their arrival, Trixie started knocking over the wares on a nearby table to make room for medical treatment.

Once inside, it became evident that Captain Telles had been badly wounded. Truthfully, he appeared like he’d been left for dead. Clemmons and Lancaster helped him up onto the newly created space. Zanna and Kellen returned just in time with bandages and salves. Telles deliriously protested, but it would be useless. The group patched him up and restored some of his mindfulness.

            “Captain Telles, what happened?” asked Kellen concerned.

            “We were dismantling the barricade when the bandits attacked. They were being commanded by a warforged loyal to the Lord of Blades. We fought hard, but nature seemed to turn against us. Most of the guards were killed, and the merchants surrendered. They took everything. I’m lucky to have escaped with my life.”

            “Aye you are captain. Now rest sir. You need your strength,” answered Zanna.

            “No. The bandits be coming after me. I need to leave again and go get help,” countered Telles.

            “You aren’t in a condition to travel captain. If you leave, they’ll track you down,” stated Clemmons.

            “If I stay, then you’ll be a target. The bandits may be weak, but there are many of them,” clarified Telles.

            “We know how to fight, sir. This won’t be our first dust-up,” proudly proclaimed Kellen.

            “Can I help somehow? I’m not fully grown, but I’m still fast,” asked Trixie sincerely.

            The group looked at the griffon. The idea was reasonable. Captain Telles’s caravan had been the Shoppe’s first visitors during the early morning and was now late afternoon. Trixaden could fly and get help. But, of course, that assumption lay assuming the captain had sneaked away unnoticed and bandit scouts hadn’t already closed the distance. The House Orien employee then revealed something important.

            “Before being completely overwhelmed, I managed to call the House branch in Thurimbar via sending stone. We have an agreement to station troops there to help guard the trade road and keep it clear of groups like this. They’ll have gathered and dispatched a retaliation force if they’re quick. If fate aligns, you can meet them on the road and get them to quicken their pace. Bring me a quill, parchment, and a sturdy pouch.”

            Zanna grabbed the requested items from behind the main counter and brought them to the captain. Clemmons offered one of his larger double-stringed leather bags, usually used for holding herbs. Scribbling quickly, Telles penned a note and folded it into the small satchel with an insignia and a House Orien emblem. He tied it around Trixie’s neck.

            “Follow the road south. You’ll find a force already along the road or be forced to Thurimbar. If you do, visit the Orien office and give them the pouch. They’ll know it’s me.”

            The quintet gathered around the griffon, giving her hugs and good wishes. Lancaster sang an inspiring limerick. Then, emboldened by the group’s love, Trixaden left the Shoppe and stepped out into the evening. With a mighty shriek befitting her species, she leaped into the sky. Flying about 150 feet upwards, she turned slightly to the left and began using the road as her guide. She flew with haste, with everyone’s words still ringing in her ears.

            Following the road proved easy to do despite flying into the setting sun. Keeping her head low and sideways, Trixie remained alert for possible ambushes. The bandits were terrible enough. If a druid happened to be aligned with them, she could be showered with elemental magic. No time to think about what could happen. She needed to find help.

Soaring onward, she stuck to the highway until something finally appeared. An armed convey with House Orien’s banners flapping in the breeze. With a great shriek announcing her presence, Trixie dive-bombed toward the column’s head. The leading pair of figureheads were a human and a half-elf. Her cry seemed to get their attention as she sped to the ground. She stopped and hovered only two feet away.

            “Are you in charge?” the griffon asked.

            “We are. And who are you?” asked the half-elf above the din of the stopping caravan.

            “Special courier from Captain Telles of this morning’s convoy. It’s urgent,” Trixie rested on the earthen past, sitting at attention.

            The human dismounted and untied the pouch she carried and reviewed its contents before handing it to her companion, who mimicked her actions. Telle’s words persuaded as the duo looked concerned. The human retied the pouch to Trixie and remounted her steed. She leaned down to speak with the young griffon.

            “Can you guide us back to where your friends are hiding?” she inquired.

            “Yes ma’am!” answered Trixie.

            “Then lead the way! Column! Advance quick time!” the human bellowed.

            Trixie didn’t need to be told what to do. Taking to the sky again, she pointed the way for the convoy back to the Daergel’s shop. No more trouble had befallen the group while she was gone. As nighttime fell, Captain Tellas helped dispatch scouts and coordinate forces, learning that the bandits were keeping their distance from House Orien’s troops. They waited for something, but they didn’t know what.

            Trixaden was showered with more praise. Captain Tellas promised an honorary position among Orien’s ranks as a show of thanks.

 In addition, Zanna would make her a special vest with pouches to carry messages and small trinkets. She would no longer be Troublemaker Trixie. Instead, she would become Terrific Trixie!