From: aislainuz@aol.com (Aislain Uz)
Date: 10 Jun 1998 01:32:32 EDT
Before day break, Aislain hops out of bed and casts an annoyed glance to Agravain's empty bed. Marme was going to get him for being out late again. Flitting past her mother's suite and bouncing by the lighted doorway to Adonia's study she darts outside and runs to the Oakenshield kennels to bother Erik for a box. Erik is a stout middle age man of few words and a look as souful as the hounds he cares for. He barely cast her a glance as she
flits into the kennels.
"Monsieur Erik, may I have a box...a BIG box?" Aislain bounced past him, happily diving into a fray of adolescent mastiffs.
Erik grunted, as he pulled her from the heaving bodies of dogs before she could get trampled or nipped. He set her on her feet safetly behind him and without a world of reproach climbed a small ladder to the loft. He reached up and lit a small lamp shaped like a border collie to illuminate the early morning darkness. Callie, a young bitch and new mother, thumped her tail gently on the wood floor as he appeared. The fat puppies cuddled into her
belly; Callie looked exhausted but proud. Gently he reached in, and scratched behind her ears whispering, "Good girl."
"Erik, its important! I need to make a box seat to sell for the Short Swords so we can pay the thousand million gold pieces to each other that the TD League says we *have* to pay or we can not play! Please, please, please Erik? We are all going to make box seats and sell them to all the Short Sword's matches and buy a Pirate ship..." Aislain tumbled up the ladder behind him, straw sticking in her red curls and squealed, "Puppies!"
She skidded across the floor on her knees, reaching out to cuddle one. Erik harshly struck her hand away, just as the young mother's teeth flashed to snap the air.
"Missy, ye be respectful." Aislain's eyes filled with tears as she looked up to him, the bitch already returning to lick and sniff her pups. Erik grimaced, "Better a bruise than a dog bite missy. Tell ye what, I get ye box and tonight after supper, ye come down here and we look at the puppies?" He sighed and lifted her up explaining, "Those are Calli's first pups Missy, she needs quiet and time to adjust. It just be te way of new mothers."
He leaned over and dropped Aislain through the hole in the floor and she landed in a pile of straw with a delighted shout. She already forgot her hurt, looking up to Erik as he heaved his massive bulk down the ladder.
"Erik? How many puppies, are there lots of girl puppies, I want girl puppies, when I grow up I am only going to have girl puppies..."
Erik grunted as Aislain skipped beside him, her chatter running into a stream of nonsense. His only betrayal of indulgence came at the end of his duties, when he put the last dog out into the run and his steel gray eyes flashed in brief amusement. He retrieved a large portable dog kennel, built for the Irish Wolf Hounds, Beck and Call.
Erik placed his large hands on his hips and watched the lass drag the box, twice her size out into the main yard. As he went about his duties, he stopped every now and then to check her progress. By mid-morning, the child was soaking wet, having hauled bucket upon bucket of water out to the yard to scrub away the musk of dog. Shivering in the spring air, she whistled cheerfully, the large puddle of mud growing under the box and making a
bigger mess even as she scrubbed. Aislain and the box were filthy and she was very happy.
Somehow, Aislain determined the box clean, even though mud splatted up the sides and her small feet have left unmistakeable foot prints in the interior. She darted up to the house for fresh clothes, leaving her box to dry in the mud. It was a good size box, 5 foot by 4 foot. It had a top about five feet high and a small grated door that latched from the outside. Erik rinsed off the box and moved it to a small grassy area where it had a chance to
dry clean. He rubbed his chin then left returning with a few cans of paint and brushes. He left them by the box.
When Erik stopped by with a sandwich and an apple for the child at lunch time, she had just finished an awkwardly drawn skull and cross bones on the back of the box now coated with a glistening shade of apricot sparkle paint. It glittered gaudily in the sun. Purple, green, yellow and orange ribbons were woven into the grate doorway, tied in big dreamy bows. Erik chuckled; it wa hideous, an 8 year-olds dream house.
By mid afternoon, Erik returned. He pretended to need to fetch something from the kennel, but in reality he had grown curious to her progress. Aislain was sound asleep, curled up in the spring grass with one of Calli's fat puppies curled into her belly. The inside of the box glowed a deep red, lit by the small collie lamp that *was* up in the loft this morning.
Aislain had crafted a mosaic of dried leaves onto the walls by pressing into the
paint while wet. It resembled a green jungle. Erik sighed, soon the leaves would be dried and brown; an interesting, if fragile interior.
The floor was covered with a thick Abyssin prayer rug of a dragonfly and butterfly pattern. Ellen was going to throw a fit when she discovered it missing from the great room. Small velvet pillows in shades of burnt orange, pink, and reds were tucked into the corners, Lady Catlean's if he was fit to judge. Morte's best dark green silk scarf was tacked to the ceiling giving it a caravan feel. In the back corner a small stool upholstered in
Clan MacCormack's hunting tartan supported a silver cup emblazoned with Adonai's seal set on a dwarvian crafted silver tray, unmistakably of Jeff's hand, and a gift to Lady Summer last spring.
Erik reached for the pup, only to be be stopped by the sight of the sleeping Callie lying at Aislain's back. The other pups were scattered about the dog, their fat tummy's turned up to the late afternoon sun. Erik groaned, and went off to warn the adults of the pilfering pirate.
Raising Money for SSH - Box Seats!
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From: randeladam@aol.com (RandelAdam)
Date: 10 Jun 1998 18:19:33 EDT
Randel sat on the top of a wall at his mother's family castle, kicking his legs as he thought. "A box seat, eh? Well, I guess I'd be haffin' ta get a box now wouldn't I?" He glanced around, trying to think of where to get a large enough box. The country side didn't offer any ideas, so he spun around to look at the castle. "Hmm, kitchens, sleepin quarters, warriors trainin' grounds, Da's study...Aha!" He grins as he come sup with a plan.
QUickly he hops onto the catwalk and heads off to the kitchen. He doges the cook with practiced ease, grabbing a small, solid crate, and continued on to Cabbinal's study, where he picked up his small spell book before heading towards the courtyard.
Just before he reached thecourtyard, he heard his mother call out to him. "Och Randel, what be ye upto there?" Turning around, he se's his mother Clare glancing curiously at his book in one hand and crate in the other, just as Cabbinal Joined her, slipping an arm around her waist.
"Aye son, what do ye be upto?" His father asked with a raised eyebrow.
Randel grinned up at his parents. "I'm goin' ta make a box seat fer people who want ta come an' watch us duel when we pirate slash people!" Waves the small box in his hand to show them. "I'm goin' ta make it larger, an' make it glow!" Clare and Cabbinal exchanged amused glances at their son's enthusiasm before looking back to him.
"Alright, I suppose tha' be safe enough." Cabinal said. "De ye want us ta watch ye?" Randel shook his head.
"Nope! I want ta do this all by meself!"
Clare down down infront of him with a smile. "Alright, ye jus' be careful." And planted a kiss on his cheek before straightening. With a wave and a grin, Randel Dashed out, unaware that his parents settled down on a couch as Cabbinal cast a scrying spell so they could keep an eye on him.
Randel settled sat down on a stone bench in the court yard, putting the box on the ground in front of him, the open side facing up. After considering it thoughtfully, he pulled out his knife, and after double checkin it in his spell book, casts a sharpness spell on it, and cuts away a side of the box, making it the front. HE grinned, and put the cut panel ontop of the box, and double checked his spell book once more before carefully casting a speel
to make it grow.
The box grew until it was about four feet tall, and Randel let out a sigh, sweating from the effort. "Och, tha's hard work..." He gets up and heads to the kitchen to get a glas of milk, thinking on what to do next. On his way back to the courtyard, he makes a detour to the Balcksmiths shop. "Hey, Griswald, kin I get a few hinges from ye? I'm making a box seat, an' I need hingers fer the front o' it."
The burly black haired man looked Randel over, and shrugged, replying in a voice made gravely by long exposure to the heat and smoke of the forge. "Aye lad, I suppose I kin do tha' fer ye. It'll jus' be another thing yer da owes me." His eyes twinkle as he winks at Randel, who grins back at him. "Thank ye verra much! Yer the Best Blacksmith ever!" With his three hinges in hand, and a small bag with nails and a small hammer, he races back to his
project.
After about half an hour, he manages to get the front on only slightly lopsided, but it looks absolutely perfect to him. "Now ta decorate it!" Grinning, he closes his eyes as he concentrates on a spell, not noticing his orange cat Dalamar sniffing at the box curiously. When he's done, he opens his eyes, expecting the box to be glowing gold. Strangely enough, it's glowing an orange color instead. Randel puzzled over this until he spied Dal, who was
rather taken aback by his now gold colored fur. "Oops... Donna worry, I'll fix ye later!" With that mystery solved, Randel decided the orange color would work just fine, and got four Short Sword Pirate flags to hang on each side, and an old cuishoned chair, slightly worn, to put inside.
Randel thought about it somemore, and decided to add one more thing. He dashed off, returnign a bit later with a small bit of gren paint, with which he painted what was suppossed to be an ivory plant growing around the top edge, and was barely recognisable as such. With a satisfied grin, Randel put all his stuff away, and teleported himself and his box to the Tree House, where he promptly curled up for a nap, exausted.
Date: 10 Jun 1998 18:19:33 EDT
Randel sat on the top of a wall at his mother's family castle, kicking his legs as he thought. "A box seat, eh? Well, I guess I'd be haffin' ta get a box now wouldn't I?" He glanced around, trying to think of where to get a large enough box. The country side didn't offer any ideas, so he spun around to look at the castle. "Hmm, kitchens, sleepin quarters, warriors trainin' grounds, Da's study...Aha!" He grins as he come sup with a plan.
QUickly he hops onto the catwalk and heads off to the kitchen. He doges the cook with practiced ease, grabbing a small, solid crate, and continued on to Cabbinal's study, where he picked up his small spell book before heading towards the courtyard.
Just before he reached thecourtyard, he heard his mother call out to him. "Och Randel, what be ye upto there?" Turning around, he se's his mother Clare glancing curiously at his book in one hand and crate in the other, just as Cabbinal Joined her, slipping an arm around her waist.
"Aye son, what do ye be upto?" His father asked with a raised eyebrow.
Randel grinned up at his parents. "I'm goin' ta make a box seat fer people who want ta come an' watch us duel when we pirate slash people!" Waves the small box in his hand to show them. "I'm goin' ta make it larger, an' make it glow!" Clare and Cabbinal exchanged amused glances at their son's enthusiasm before looking back to him.
"Alright, I suppose tha' be safe enough." Cabinal said. "De ye want us ta watch ye?" Randel shook his head.
"Nope! I want ta do this all by meself!"
Clare down down infront of him with a smile. "Alright, ye jus' be careful." And planted a kiss on his cheek before straightening. With a wave and a grin, Randel Dashed out, unaware that his parents settled down on a couch as Cabbinal cast a scrying spell so they could keep an eye on him.
Randel settled sat down on a stone bench in the court yard, putting the box on the ground in front of him, the open side facing up. After considering it thoughtfully, he pulled out his knife, and after double checkin it in his spell book, casts a sharpness spell on it, and cuts away a side of the box, making it the front. HE grinned, and put the cut panel ontop of the box, and double checked his spell book once more before carefully casting a speel
to make it grow.
The box grew until it was about four feet tall, and Randel let out a sigh, sweating from the effort. "Och, tha's hard work..." He gets up and heads to the kitchen to get a glas of milk, thinking on what to do next. On his way back to the courtyard, he makes a detour to the Balcksmiths shop. "Hey, Griswald, kin I get a few hinges from ye? I'm making a box seat, an' I need hingers fer the front o' it."
The burly black haired man looked Randel over, and shrugged, replying in a voice made gravely by long exposure to the heat and smoke of the forge. "Aye lad, I suppose I kin do tha' fer ye. It'll jus' be another thing yer da owes me." His eyes twinkle as he winks at Randel, who grins back at him. "Thank ye verra much! Yer the Best Blacksmith ever!" With his three hinges in hand, and a small bag with nails and a small hammer, he races back to his
project.
After about half an hour, he manages to get the front on only slightly lopsided, but it looks absolutely perfect to him. "Now ta decorate it!" Grinning, he closes his eyes as he concentrates on a spell, not noticing his orange cat Dalamar sniffing at the box curiously. When he's done, he opens his eyes, expecting the box to be glowing gold. Strangely enough, it's glowing an orange color instead. Randel puzzled over this until he spied Dal, who was
rather taken aback by his now gold colored fur. "Oops... Donna worry, I'll fix ye later!" With that mystery solved, Randel decided the orange color would work just fine, and got four Short Sword Pirate flags to hang on each side, and an old cuishoned chair, slightly worn, to put inside.
Randel thought about it somemore, and decided to add one more thing. He dashed off, returnign a bit later with a small bit of gren paint, with which he painted what was suppossed to be an ivory plant growing around the top edge, and was barely recognisable as such. With a satisfied grin, Randel put all his stuff away, and teleported himself and his box to the Tree House, where he promptly curled up for a nap, exausted.
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From: agravainuz@aol.com (AgravainUz)
Date: 11 Jun 1998 12:40:41 EDT
:: Aggy shook his head as he watched Ais from his bedroom window. He was grounded again for sneaking out. He walked back to his bed and flopped down on it. He shut his eyes and thought again about the lass he had met last night, the smell of her perfume still lingering in his mind. His thoughts were interrupted by the door to their bedroom slammed hard, an excited 'Slain leapt to hop on Aggy's
back as he lay on his bed. "Aggy, Aggy AGGY! Hurry! you must make a Box Seat so we can sell it to make a gazillion, trillion gold to pay us so we can duel!" Aislain tweaked Aggy's ear hard like she'd seen Marme do when she was impatient with him, her dirty hands leaving behind smudges on his cheek. "Hey! cut it out 'Slain!" <FONT
COLOR="#000000" SIZE=3>Aggy pushed her to the floor and hopped up, his face red and dirty now, his clothes splattered with muck. Aislain stood up, her small figure taking on a majestic poise as she frowned at him. "If you don't make a Box Seat, I will tell Marme and Monsieur Connard that you know nasty french and that you are just B A D ! They will ground you forever! " .
Aislain stuck out her tongue as far as
it would go, grabbed her clean pink dress and ducked Aggy's punch as she locked herself into their bathroom. Aggy could hear her singing "Aggy is a nasty boy, I am Marme's precious!" from her hideout in the bathroom. He stood up mutterin imprecations to the Goddess about his sister's future as he opened the door and sauntered out to find a few items necessary to make his 'Box
Seat'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aggy grabbed the pouch with the gold he had saved to buy a new sword and stalked out to the barn. One of the barn tabbies pounced on his leg as he entered the darkness of the huge barn. "Erik! are you out here?" Aggy heard the clang of someone's head hitting a metal pail and a mutterd oath when Erik's head poked out from the rails of a stall farther down. He was still rubbing his head
as he asked Aggy what he required. "Have you seen that old cart that 'Slain and I used to drive around? The one with the pony hitch?" Erik shook his head hard towards the far door. "It's out back, young scamp. Now you and your sister leave an honest man to his work!" Aggy smiled as he raced out the far door, tossing Erik a
gold coin for his troubles which left Erik smiling and whistling as he returned his chores.
Aggy found the small cart behind the barn, covered in hay and dirt. The small cart measured 4 ft. long by 3 deep and had nice sturdy sides to it. Aggy smiled and pulled the cart hard, it's 4 small wooden wheels creaking in protest. He slowly pulled the dusty cart across the field and into the small copse of trees where he had his hideout. Slapping his hand against each other to dislodge any remaining dirty, Aggy walked up the small path to the
main road to Rhydin Market, a small but growing list taking shape in his mind.
The Market was busy as he pushed his way to the dressmakers shop. The woman looked up in surprise at the young man standing before her. "Can I be helpin ye, sur?" The woman raised a brow in surprise as Aggy replied with his order. Aggy smiled and bowed. "Yes, maam... I need 6 yards of that blood red velvet and 12 yards of that gold braid with the
tassels." Aggy looked around, then turned to the woman as she told him the total and handed him the package. "Be this for yer lady fair?" The woman smiled indulgently at him. Aggy just smiled and sauntered out. By the end of his buying spree, he was loaded with packages. He smiled as he loaded the dappled gray pony that had been his last purchase.
With a skip in his step, he led the pony down the road to his hideout.
Early the next morning, Aggy ran as fast as he could to his hideout. The pony nibbled at the grass, looking up at Aggy's approach. "Hey Prince!" Aggy grabbed as bucket and filled it up at the nearby stream, lugging the heavy pail to the cart. With determination, he began to scrub the small cart. After a long time, he pulled the now spotless cart into the sunlight to dry while he
assembled the canopy for his box seat. By the time Aggy had sewn the braid to the red velvet, the cart was dry. He picked up the iron bars he had bought from the blacksmith, and carried them and the hand drill to the cart. In short order he had drilled the holes in the end post and pushed the iron bars into the holes. He took the paint and painted the cart a deep midnight blue inside and out. He smiled as he tacked up the calender with all the Short
Swords matches circled on it, Miss June smiled enticingly naked as she hung above the dates. Aggy ate his lunch and admired his cart, washing down the sandwiches with a drink of cool stream water. It was late afternoon when Aggy led the pony and cart up the path towards House Oak, the deep blue cart with the blood red canopy looked fit for a king. The bench seat inside padded with a golden velvet pillow, a small table nailed to the cart. On each iron
rod there shone a white lighted candle, making the cart appear even more magical. Prince tossed his head, the red velvet blanket the covered his back shifted slightly. Eric walked out of the barn, his smile wide at Aggy's box seat. "I'll put the pony and cart up for ya , lad. " Eric chuckled when he thought of what Aislain would do when she saw Aggy's Box seat.::
¥
Prince of the Valheru
Duke of Ezogaer
Plains of Waste
Date: 11 Jun 1998 12:40:41 EDT
:: Aggy shook his head as he watched Ais from his bedroom window. He was grounded again for sneaking out. He walked back to his bed and flopped down on it. He shut his eyes and thought again about the lass he had met last night, the smell of her perfume still lingering in his mind. His thoughts were interrupted by the door to their bedroom slammed hard, an excited 'Slain leapt to hop on Aggy's
back as he lay on his bed. "Aggy, Aggy AGGY! Hurry! you must make a Box Seat so we can sell it to make a gazillion, trillion gold to pay us so we can duel!" Aislain tweaked Aggy's ear hard like she'd seen Marme do when she was impatient with him, her dirty hands leaving behind smudges on his cheek. "Hey! cut it out 'Slain!" <FONT
COLOR="#000000" SIZE=3>Aggy pushed her to the floor and hopped up, his face red and dirty now, his clothes splattered with muck. Aislain stood up, her small figure taking on a majestic poise as she frowned at him. "If you don't make a Box Seat, I will tell Marme and Monsieur Connard that you know nasty french and that you are just B A D ! They will ground you forever! " .
Aislain stuck out her tongue as far as
it would go, grabbed her clean pink dress and ducked Aggy's punch as she locked herself into their bathroom. Aggy could hear her singing "Aggy is a nasty boy, I am Marme's precious!" from her hideout in the bathroom. He stood up mutterin imprecations to the Goddess about his sister's future as he opened the door and sauntered out to find a few items necessary to make his 'Box
Seat'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aggy grabbed the pouch with the gold he had saved to buy a new sword and stalked out to the barn. One of the barn tabbies pounced on his leg as he entered the darkness of the huge barn. "Erik! are you out here?" Aggy heard the clang of someone's head hitting a metal pail and a mutterd oath when Erik's head poked out from the rails of a stall farther down. He was still rubbing his head
as he asked Aggy what he required. "Have you seen that old cart that 'Slain and I used to drive around? The one with the pony hitch?" Erik shook his head hard towards the far door. "It's out back, young scamp. Now you and your sister leave an honest man to his work!" Aggy smiled as he raced out the far door, tossing Erik a
gold coin for his troubles which left Erik smiling and whistling as he returned his chores.
Aggy found the small cart behind the barn, covered in hay and dirt. The small cart measured 4 ft. long by 3 deep and had nice sturdy sides to it. Aggy smiled and pulled the cart hard, it's 4 small wooden wheels creaking in protest. He slowly pulled the dusty cart across the field and into the small copse of trees where he had his hideout. Slapping his hand against each other to dislodge any remaining dirty, Aggy walked up the small path to the
main road to Rhydin Market, a small but growing list taking shape in his mind.
The Market was busy as he pushed his way to the dressmakers shop. The woman looked up in surprise at the young man standing before her. "Can I be helpin ye, sur?" The woman raised a brow in surprise as Aggy replied with his order. Aggy smiled and bowed. "Yes, maam... I need 6 yards of that blood red velvet and 12 yards of that gold braid with the
tassels." Aggy looked around, then turned to the woman as she told him the total and handed him the package. "Be this for yer lady fair?" The woman smiled indulgently at him. Aggy just smiled and sauntered out. By the end of his buying spree, he was loaded with packages. He smiled as he loaded the dappled gray pony that had been his last purchase.
With a skip in his step, he led the pony down the road to his hideout.
Early the next morning, Aggy ran as fast as he could to his hideout. The pony nibbled at the grass, looking up at Aggy's approach. "Hey Prince!" Aggy grabbed as bucket and filled it up at the nearby stream, lugging the heavy pail to the cart. With determination, he began to scrub the small cart. After a long time, he pulled the now spotless cart into the sunlight to dry while he
assembled the canopy for his box seat. By the time Aggy had sewn the braid to the red velvet, the cart was dry. He picked up the iron bars he had bought from the blacksmith, and carried them and the hand drill to the cart. In short order he had drilled the holes in the end post and pushed the iron bars into the holes. He took the paint and painted the cart a deep midnight blue inside and out. He smiled as he tacked up the calender with all the Short
Swords matches circled on it, Miss June smiled enticingly naked as she hung above the dates. Aggy ate his lunch and admired his cart, washing down the sandwiches with a drink of cool stream water. It was late afternoon when Aggy led the pony and cart up the path towards House Oak, the deep blue cart with the blood red canopy looked fit for a king. The bench seat inside padded with a golden velvet pillow, a small table nailed to the cart. On each iron
rod there shone a white lighted candle, making the cart appear even more magical. Prince tossed his head, the red velvet blanket the covered his back shifted slightly. Eric walked out of the barn, his smile wide at Aggy's box seat. "I'll put the pony and cart up for ya , lad. " Eric chuckled when he thought of what Aislain would do when she saw Aggy's Box seat.::
¥
Prince of the Valheru
Duke of Ezogaer
Plains of Waste
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From: rileylil@aol.com (Riley Lil)
Date: 12 Jun 1998 17:44:01 EDT
Riley searched the arena for some of her supplies. She left the with a hammer, nails, saw, stale marshmellows, markers, sticky stuff, a flag Jonalyn made, a pot (her helmet), several spatulas (spider killers) and the four wooden legs of a chair. It took her near an hour to drag all of it home. To her great delight her father had built her a round platform as she'd requested. She refused to tell him what it was for,
giggling all the while and whispering over "it's a sssecret!".
She gathered feathers from the ground, followed by several trips from the pond back to the manor with small bucket loads of sand. A shimmer of sweat gathered around her strawberry blonde ringlets. Riley defiantly pig headed refused to dress cooly as her Papa had suggested, instead wearing black leather breeches and a flowing cape, mimicking her father's normal garb. Of course Roland could hardly fault her for having good taste. As the production
continued it was to her dismay she finally had to remove the cape, it was sticking to everything and when she wasn't pulling it off of something she was falling over it. "Frug" she would shout at it, using her made up bad word to warn it of it's offense.
As the day progressed, the circular platform was covered in sand a small outter edge held the substance in, a poorly painted wooden palm tree stuck out of one side. The lovely silky pirates flag that Aunt Lady Jonalyn had helped her with hung off of the opposite side. Riley had especially requested her pirate have not only an eye patch, but pointy teeth. Her facination with pointy teeth had yet to be explained. Next came the rubber ducky floating
in the make believe pond (bowl) in the middle of the island (about 5 foot by 5 foot), this was only after three attempts of getting a real live pond duck to stay there using licked stale marshmellows as adhesive, to the side of the bowl. Instead of live ducks she ended up with what looked like bloated bird poo, which of course never occured to her as she declared "Ducky food, Braron Rolly" the name she'd given her toy ducky. Rolly (the duck) was
dashingly clad in his own bar towel cape, following the Sal Roa family theme. Feathers were strewn about for added mood, Riley firmly believed that wood ducks often frequented deserted islands. Riley's most triumphant touch was the wooden chair legs poking partway out of the sand and declaring loudly "Spare peg legs!". The only other detail she could think to add was a very misplaced gang plank, which extended to about 3 feet off of the island and
three feet in the air, also know as her father's or highest bidders seat (until they tried to sit on it at least). Written on the plank in neon pink was simply "Princess pyrate's trezur eyelund"
After such a glorious day Riley returned home shouting to her father, "Papa it's done it's done...tha secretz dun!!!". Her father moved out from his room to hear the great news, only to laugh by what followed, "Papa....I can't move it! How will I ever zell my boxseat?".
Date: 12 Jun 1998 17:44:01 EDT
Riley searched the arena for some of her supplies. She left the with a hammer, nails, saw, stale marshmellows, markers, sticky stuff, a flag Jonalyn made, a pot (her helmet), several spatulas (spider killers) and the four wooden legs of a chair. It took her near an hour to drag all of it home. To her great delight her father had built her a round platform as she'd requested. She refused to tell him what it was for,
giggling all the while and whispering over "it's a sssecret!".
She gathered feathers from the ground, followed by several trips from the pond back to the manor with small bucket loads of sand. A shimmer of sweat gathered around her strawberry blonde ringlets. Riley defiantly pig headed refused to dress cooly as her Papa had suggested, instead wearing black leather breeches and a flowing cape, mimicking her father's normal garb. Of course Roland could hardly fault her for having good taste. As the production
continued it was to her dismay she finally had to remove the cape, it was sticking to everything and when she wasn't pulling it off of something she was falling over it. "Frug" she would shout at it, using her made up bad word to warn it of it's offense.
As the day progressed, the circular platform was covered in sand a small outter edge held the substance in, a poorly painted wooden palm tree stuck out of one side. The lovely silky pirates flag that Aunt Lady Jonalyn had helped her with hung off of the opposite side. Riley had especially requested her pirate have not only an eye patch, but pointy teeth. Her facination with pointy teeth had yet to be explained. Next came the rubber ducky floating
in the make believe pond (bowl) in the middle of the island (about 5 foot by 5 foot), this was only after three attempts of getting a real live pond duck to stay there using licked stale marshmellows as adhesive, to the side of the bowl. Instead of live ducks she ended up with what looked like bloated bird poo, which of course never occured to her as she declared "Ducky food, Braron Rolly" the name she'd given her toy ducky. Rolly (the duck) was
dashingly clad in his own bar towel cape, following the Sal Roa family theme. Feathers were strewn about for added mood, Riley firmly believed that wood ducks often frequented deserted islands. Riley's most triumphant touch was the wooden chair legs poking partway out of the sand and declaring loudly "Spare peg legs!". The only other detail she could think to add was a very misplaced gang plank, which extended to about 3 feet off of the island and
three feet in the air, also know as her father's or highest bidders seat (until they tried to sit on it at least). Written on the plank in neon pink was simply "Princess pyrate's trezur eyelund"
After such a glorious day Riley returned home shouting to her father, "Papa it's done it's done...tha secretz dun!!!". Her father moved out from his room to hear the great news, only to laugh by what followed, "Papa....I can't move it! How will I ever zell my boxseat?".