Doing it right...

[GlytchMeister]

Glytch suddenly remembered he was supposed to return Emerauld's ladder. "I'll be back in a bit!" He called out, certain the elf was within earshot, before jogging back to the manor.
"What now?" Al shouted after the hooded youth.
"That ladder, remember?"
"Right... The one we were going to use before that murderous sodding case tried to add injury to insult..." The man took one last look around at the forest, noting a peculiar change in the feel of the area, before setting off at a brisk walk after Glytch.

Glytch gathered up the rope ladder from his room by the kitchen (he was finally starting to get the hang of navigating the huge house) and quickly set up a Crawler to look for schematics of the wedding site before heading back out. He passed the guest house where Atsali and Castela were supposedly staying.
I wonder how Atsali's doing... No doubt her mom has caught on... And Buck... Hmm. I hope they won't jump to a conclusion... I don't fancy being subjected to a Twerp Sweat by a centaur when he really doesn't have anything to worry about... Glytch put that matter out of his mind. No use worrying. If there's a misunderstanding, just tell the truth. Simple fix.

When he returned to the forest, Glytch had the impression the trees weren't quite so... touchy-feely as before. An improvement from when they seemed to lean back to avoid Al, but still different from his first meeting with Emerauld. He wandered around a while before finding a particularly large, old tree.
"Hey, Eme'," Glytch figured this was as good a place as any to try and catch her attention again. "I got your rope ladder..." Glytch smirked, listening to a rustle and a soft giggle behind him. "And maybe a little more."
"Eme'? Silly, did you forget the rest of my name?" Emerauld swung down from the big oak, alighting gracefully on the soft grass below.
"Hey, you shot first; I seem to recall you calling me Glytchie." He put the ladder down and flashed a lopsided grin at the elf.
"Hmm... Alright then, Glytchie. What surprise did you bring for me?"
Another giggle drifted from a rather fidgety little thorny bush, and Emerauld smiled.
"It seems, dear friend, I was followed by the cutest kid on the ranch!" Glytch turned suddenly and laughed as the bush tumbleweed-rolled out from its hiding place and wound itself into the form of a small, giggling girl.
"Why hello, and who are you?" Emerauld bent down, her hands on her thighs and a beaming smile on her face.
"I'm Castela, and I'm a Whatsit!" The little girl clasped her hands in front of her, returning Eme's grin.
"A...Whatsit?" The elf raised an eyebrow before her grin acquired a slight quirk. "No, I know exactly what you are..."
"What?" Pickle asked, her lip quavering and a touch of fear in her voice.
Voicelessly chanting, Eme' conjures green sparkles surrounding Castela, and flowers spring from the ground. "You're an adorable Ligrr d'l'to'ryll, and you'd best pick those flowers quickly before they go back to sleep, as it's too cold for them to be awake long."
Giggling, Castela started picking the flowers and gathering them into two bouquets.
Glytch sidled closer to Eme', speaking softly. "What's a... Um.. Ligger-deal-torrill?"
The mischievous elf smiled faintly and whispered back, her eyes following Castela closely. "Oh, it means a 'girl of the green' in the tongue of Safyr's people. Having no language of my own, I learned the one of her peoples. It's not as melodic as forest elves, nor bright as high elves, but there's beauty in it," Emerauld said wistfully.
"Words have much power, as you have seen, so I'm giving her better options than 'Whatsit'." She raised her voice and spoke clearly to Pickle. "You really need a coat, it's getting too cold to run green and free without warmth. Come back later and we'll see what I find." Handing her two ribbons from her wrist pouch to tie the bouquets, she gracefully bows to the little imp.
"Thank you, Miss Em-Eme'! I really like these flowers! They, they smell nice and they're soft an', an' I think of warm sunshine when, when I sniff them! I think mamma an 'Sali will like them too!"
"Well, I think so too, cutie! They are very nice flowers... Make sure to give them water!"
"I will!" Castela giggled before turning to head back to the guest house, leaving behind a trail of colorful petals.

Glytch watched her go, a warm feeling in his chest, before turning to Eme', smiling. "Archery practice tonight after dinner?"
Perhaps," she said smirking, "if you're not too busy with the errands you've set yourself up for."
And with that, she sent a shower of leaves raining down on him, giggling as she climbed into the nearest tree.

{Credit to Dinky for her help writing Eme'}

[DinkyInky]

Smiling as her friend went to try and complete the mountain of work he had before nightfall so he could try out his new bow, she turned and looked at the unhappy willow.

"Be at peace Lady Willow, I gather it now."

"This metal monster is so heavy," she thought wearily, as she grabbed the bundle and carried it far from camp and trees.
No fool to warfare, though many centuries had passed, and had earned the respect and rights to her glen--and the peace that respect entitled. In principle, she understood the need for such a weapon, but found it heavy and graceless, preferring her bow and swords, though she hoped they would not be needed here.

Pulling the black sandcloth from her path, she removed the wooden pieces, and began to clean the burrs and scratches as best she can, knowing recasting the metal was simply not possible.
The last thing she wanted was for the tinkers to get their hands on such a thing. They're not openly warlike, preferring clockwork to fight for them, and would likely think this a toy, but others less scrupulous would see it, and claim it.
The monster, naked, but for the makers marks, she quickly unpacked her engraving tools and began to etch runes over every surface of the metal, intent shining in her determined face. She meant what she said, it will fail him if he ever uses it for evil again. Once it was covered, she daubed a small amount of polish, and worked it in. To the untrained eye, it would look like someone sanded it...poorly.
Next, she drew from the leylines a thread of wild energy, then used a small amount of magic to reduce the sizes to the proportions requested. She really could not risk those brilliant, naive gnomes to catch even a tiny part of this, because her home did not need this.

"The wood. That was probably the most well treated item on this entire monster," laughing bitterly.
No chemicals ever had touched it, only oils. Grabbing a writing stick, she scrawled runes all over the inside piece, remembering the look on that strange man's face.
"He WILL not ever do evil with this again, or he will feel it," she thought, hot, angry tears spilling down.
Grabbing an engraving tool in gloved hand, she heated it with a small fire spell, burning in all the pencilled runes, covering it as she did with the metal. No elegant artwork could she bear to put on it, but she couldn't leave the wood bare, so she chanted a small prayer, intending it to look like fresh spring cherry wood, with the thoughts of helping him keep a promise.
Instead of the wood changing, she heard the answer to her unspoken thought singing true through her entire body, she spoke to it with another voice, eyes sparkling with a light from within, blessing the weapon and adding a small protection on it, to further ensure it would know if it's master became evil, and to warn him to stop.

The runes, glowing green and gold, appeared on the outside part of the wood, as elegant scrollwork.

Tears rolling down, she sent a prayer of thanks, for helping a human who most likely didn't believe in them.

Completely exhausted, she reassembled the loose pieces as shown, wrapped the monster into the cloth, ran to the willow, and tucked it into the crook of the willow, who no longer shuddered at it's touch. Promising to give it a complete cleaning tomorrow, she set to quickly cleaning the mess, carried everything back to camp, climbed into the crook of the tree, falling into an uneasy sleep.

[DinkyInky]

Feeling the presense of her sister, she remained in illusion of repose, as she did not wish to quarrel on the previous subject.

Once gone, she grabbed the bowl and dry bread, and began to eat. Safyr notices the pebble, smiles, looking at the glowstone laughing, "She always forgets we don't need these."

Belly full, she draws a flask of water and a scrap of cloth, and cleans the bowl.

Not quite tired, despite the many hours awake, she decides to see if she can outwit her sister...as she already outwitted that human sparring with the steel eyed creature. She had no name for her, because she never before saw demons working together as friends, nor to keep a human 'alive'.
Leaving an old worn out pair of Ironwood sticks, fondly remembering the last scar earned while sparring with them, she wanted to see the reaction.

"What the Hate, Eme', your puckish nature's rubbing off on me."

Shadowstepping under and up, she left the protections in place, and decided to observe her sister.
"Cleaning camp...fletching...tailoring...sneaking into the house...ahhh, that explains the human tools...bell...almost got caught, should have shadow walked(here she had to stifle a chuckle), recasting their bell...knew you would...Ahh, so that's what they were talking about "oopsy daisy"...hmmm...you really will help him. Wonder how. Hide downwind of the girl, her sense of smell rivals ours...how cute, he wants to play...you're starting on that already? *sighs* of course they get involved.
"Thank you for helping her with her study of human nature, and keeping her safe," is her wordless prayer, as she looked toward the heavens.
Shadowstepping back into the camp, she cleans her armour(the real reason she cannot sleep) and stows it in her pack, dons a mottled grey tunic and trousers, dark patchwork leather overtunic, trousers, and mocassins, and lays back down, her mace in easy reach.

"Life is dull not at all with you as my sister."

Smiling, she drifts off into an easy sleep.

[Dave]

{AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was written by GlytchMeister, DinkyInky and myself as an exercise in cooperative writing of a single piece. All I did really was tie it all togehter with Elmer's Dialogue Glue... -Alan}

The story is a fascinating one to follow.

The process by which it's being created, is equally so!

[Sgt. Howard]

Mid January, 2015

Halfway between La Rosa and Rancho Santa Maria in the Mexican Provence of Durango sits La Reserva de la Bossera Mapimi- a natural reserve of high desert. One could travel several hours without seeing any signs of man through this tractless void. Seasons and centuries have marched through here unannouced and unrecorded with little change. Creatures lived their lives within a universe often no more than a few yards in diameter heedless of anything else. The few that did cover more ground had to in order to find enough food to survive.
And the ground never moved... until today. A rumble, a crack in the soil announced something momentous occuring. Coyotes and rabbits scampered, heedless of each other, in search of safety from what was coming. Two objects errupted from the soil- about four miles apart, they were rather intent on gaining altitude. The one seemed to have a pair of hitch-hikers- two girls clung desperately to the outside until it exploded at 1,600 feet- the other continued to 3,000 feet as the ground below exploded, leaving a massive crater. The girls of the one that exploded managed to work free just before disaster, and one wrapped herself around the other, who in turn sprouted wings and flew back to terra firma.
The other, at 3,000 feet, seperated it's payload. At 1,200 feet, the first drogue 'chute deployed- followed by the second and the third and finally the three main 'chutes. Landing somewhat safely a good fifteen miles from the new crater, it's systems activated. The near-depleted stasis tube began it's process of revitalization of one who technically was not alive to begin with.

After all, clay does not live, does it?

[Just Old Al]

After the day he'd had so far, Al was feeling a serious need for coffee. Wandering into the kitchen after the draining meeting with Emerauld, he begged a cup of coffee and a small plate of chocolate-chip cookies from Rosalita.

Sitting at the counter on a high stool (he loved kitchens, they reminded him of home) Al thought about the strange meeting he'd had. Emerauld obviously despised him for what he had done as a soldier. Frankly, there were things he was none too pleased with himself from his deployments and time in the service, so he could well understand her attitude. She had agreed to help him, though, so all's right in the end, right? He just wished he could believe it. Something in his hindbrain was telling him he'd overreached on this one - it wasn't the first time he had done so trying to gain every possible advantage in a fight. As his tactics instructor had told him long ago there was such a thing as overpreparation. Al didn;t believe it for a minute.

However, needs must, as always. He had a feeling that from now on he had no choice whatsoever but to take the high road - he'd made a vow to do so, and that was nothing he would EVER back down from. Death before dishonor is not just a saying, old son - with you it's a fact.

The thoughts of the elf laboring for his benefit brought to mind the question of payment. She'd not asked for anything for this, but Al was damned if he was going to accept it for nothing. That was wrong, and rude and just plain ungrateful.

Question is, though, what do you give an elf? Especially one who lives out year round in a forest and forages.

Forages...foraging. It was coming to late Autumn outdoors - the days were brisk especially here. This was the time of year Al missed home a bit, for the milder Winters.

Hmmm...foraging gets thin in the Winter. It's cold, it's damp, and there's nothing growing. This means preserved dried things, as they can be cached and unless disturbed by animals will be fine as long as dry. So, packed in glass and metal - nothing with chemicals as that simply wouldn't go over well. That covers grains and legumes...what about protein? Al felt that meat was a part of the diet, but even if it wasn't that could simply be brought back. Dried meat - all natural with no preservatives. That might be hard to find.

"Rosalita, dear?"

"Si, Senor Al?" She was making fun of him again by deliberately using Spanglish at him. It was a game they played even though Al's Spanish wasn't all that bad.

"When are you going grocery shopping again?"

"I'm going tomorrow morning - is there something you would like?"

"Yes, please. I will give you a list of things I want you to buy for me, and a dozen all glass canning jars to go with them. These are a gift for an elf, so they must be all natural. is there a store you could get these things at for me - an organic foods store? "

"An elf? Senor Al has some interesting friends. Yes, I believe so. There is an organic foods store near where I usually shop - they will have anything you want."

"Have you a piece of paper and a pen?" She slid a tablet and a pen from a drawer, and passed them over. Al printed a list of what he wanted - small beans of four types, spelt, brown rice, dried corn, organic smoked meat with no preservatives, and dried vegetables in whatever kinds could be had all natural. Enough of each to fill quart jars, and more to refill them as desired, and glass jars for the excess. Everything to be gotten from bulk stocks, nothing in plastic bags if it could be avoided.

Al pulled his wallet from his pocket and over Rosalita's protests that "The senora Daisy would be angry" he insisted on paying for these things himself. A gift taken from others is not a gift, so this had to come from him personally. He would have preferred to go and get these things himself, but that he would have to trust others for.

WIth the matter of a gift in hand Al felt better. He still had a foreboding about the wisdom of his actions, but that would sort it by itself. Right now what his soul needed was Daisy - it had been an eventful day, and there was more to come. Al left the kitchen looking for his lady love.

[jwhouk]

(Psst, Al: Minneapolis definitely has a Whole Foods Market - in fact, it's right across Excelsior from Punch Pie Wood Oven Pizza...)

[GlytchMeister]

{credit to Al for writing most of the stuff after the characters Glytch and Al looked at the blueprints}

Glytch returned to the office - which had become his main base of operations during his stay here - to see what his Crawler had come up with pertaining to the Pillsbury A Mills. His laptop, a beast of a computer he first got to get him through engineering college, was now the center of a web of cords - one Ethernet cord split into three, each of which went to the main router. All of his internet traffic was encrypted, split and sent through three separate Tor channels. The hard drive Sarge had given him was still hooked up, and was serving as the basis for a massive web Crawler swarm, searching for anything that might be useful, the results of which were constantly being pulled up on one screen. The second screen was doing the same with info on the Mill. The third was displaying the Crawler swarm monitoring news and chatter for any sign or advance warning in case the Golem should make a move on the Manor or anyone outside. Another cord connected his tablet to the laptop, which he was using as a secondary input device full of hotkeys and shortcuts. Alter another cord led to a printer. Everything had power cables. It was a bit of a mess.
Glytch sat down and cracked his knuckles and neck, preparing himself for the long job of sorting through everything.


Two hours later, he looked up from his screens and rubbed his eyes. He'd skimmed through every result pulled up by his Crawlers and printed off the best schematics of both the original Pillsbury A Mills and the plans for the renovation. It was the best he could do. He gathered up the sheaf of papers and went to the main room, hoping Al would be hanging out there.
No such luck... But Glytch did see the butler. "Hey, uh... mister?"
"Hmm?"
"Sorry, I can't remember your name... Uh, could you point me toward wherever Al is?"
"You may call me Edward, young master GlytchMeister. I will summon him here - you seem to have a penchant for losing yourself in the hallways. It wouldn't do to have you late for dinner."
"Uh... Thanks. I think... And, sorry about getting testy with you earlier, it-"
"I understand, sir... It was a... trying morning for many." With this, Edward turned and left, leaving Glytch to study the schematics.

Edward returned shortly with Al in tow. Glytch stood and handed him the sheaf of papers. "There's an online tour thing too, but eh... The office is a bit of a spider web at the moment."
"These are good enough for right now... Hmm..." Al frowned, his brow furrowing as he squinted at the schematics and plans. "From what I can tell, there's two types of blueprints here: the ones showing what the Mills used to be, and those detailing the completed renovations."
"Yeah... And I noticed there were inconsistencies even within those groups." Glytch pointed out the different positioning of various elements, right down to obeying different building codes. "Honestly, I don't know what we can do besides vague ideas with this. I dunno about you, but three inches can be the difference between a headshot and a haircut. I'd prefer the haircut."
Al nodded. "And I'd rather not get a haircut or a headshot." The old sergeant thought for a moment before breathing a deep sigh and making his decision. "We need boots on the ground. How about it, Glytch? Fancy a bit of recon?"

~~~

Al checked in with the true mistress of the house - Rosalita - and found out his lady love was out for a walk in the paddock. Heading back out he spotted her waliking, in earnest conversation with Cinnamon. He yelled and waved - both looked up and trotted in his direction.

"Hello, dear. Good to see you back - missed you this morning. What's up?" He reaced his arm over her torso join and gave her a quick squeeze of affection, and accepted the peck on the cheek she bestowed in return. Cinnamon reached down and gave him a quick hug, then excused herself and trotted back for the house.

"I need some advice. Where does one get an amulet?"

"An amulet? What For?" Daisy was truly puzzled. She'd never heard of a human who had to hide from anything - that typically was a para thing to hide from humans.

"Dear, Glytch, Billens and I need to go to the Pillsbury A-Mill complex and look about. I need to see this place for myself. The plans and drawings that GLytch got for me are wonderully detailed, but they don't show it as it really is - plans rarely do, especially in a place that is under renovation. Neither of them is on the list the vermin have, but I am. I need to hide."

Her demeanor sobered at that statement. She understood what this was about, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "This is planning, isn't it?"

"Someone has to do it, old oater...and that someone is me. Greg and General Neil are working intel last I heard, so the boots on the ground at the site for intelligence is down to me. Do you have a camera - a good one?"

SHe was a bit confused by the request. "No, I don't. It's not something that ever interested me. Did you think to ask Amanda if you're going to the A-Mills? Her studio is there and I'm sure she'd have something that would suit your needs."

"Good thought. I'll send her a text and ask to borrow a Nikon snapshooter or something - I need detail but not difficulty. Now, about that amulet..."

"Well, that's going to be a bit difficult. Let me contact the mage and tell him what you need - these things are all pretty special-purpose - for example mine would do you no good as it simply wouldn't work - you're not a centaur and you don't need to look like a human - you are a human. I'm not sure anyone has ever done an amulet for a human to look like another human - it's simply not something that would come up."

"Thanks. If you could do that right now I'd appreciate it - time is of the essence here. Billens is going to be back here soon, and then we're off to the mills."

They hugged again, and Al, mind on anything but reconnaissance when around his love, walked off to text Amanda while Daisy, lost in theought, wandered back to the house. She went to her office and picked up the telephone, dialing a number no human would ever get.

Billens rolled onto the property after seeing Joe and his wife home and into the care of Suzie. Having borrowed an LTD from the local field office (why couldn't they poit CARS? He hated borrowing) he rolled up to the house and went inside. Checking in with Rosalita, she found Al in his usual niche next to the bay window. He and Glytch had been discussing the visit and how best to accomplish what they needed.

"OK, so you want me to do what exactly?" Glytch sounded somewhat incredulous at what Al was asking him for.

"You heard me, I expect. I need you to keep the engineers and foremen focused on you so I can skulk about with a camera and get what I need. If they're focusing on you I can wander around with a camera and get a good set of photos of the place - or at least the main halls and such. The lofts are partially occupied, so I won't be able to get up there."

"Why do we need to sneak? We go in with Mr. Billens here, he greases the skids and we go anywhere we want."

"True, we could do that. However, word will likely reach the arse...villains of this piece and that we would much prefer not happen. If they know we're setting up...well they could try for us here, and that I would MUCH prefer does not happen. I love it here, and plan to spend the rest of my life here. I infintely wish that to be more than the next few days."

"Good point. So I do the yelling, Billens does the intimidating, and you do the sneaking?"

"Correctly put, young man. Bravo."

Always infinitely polite to strangers, Billens asked "Are you two ready to go, Mr. Richer?"

"Not quite yet I'm afraid - there is still the matter of disguise." Practically on cue, Edward came toward the trio, holding a small box.

"Mistress Daisy sent this to you sir. It was just delivered by courier - she said you would know what to do with it."

Al was a trifle disconcered by this. He'd expected that Daisy would come and let him know what was up, not send Edward.

It turned out that as always his love had a reason. He opened the box to find a small plain amulet, and a note that said "Have Edward touch the amulet in the box. Pick it up by the chain and put it on."

"Thank you, Edward. Please touch the amulet."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. Please touch the amulet - it will not harm you." Al wasn't sure of that last bit, but he was reasonably comfortable that Daisy wouldn't deliberately damage Edward.

Edward reached into the box and tapped it with a tentative fingertip. Reassured, he touched it again with a firmer press.

Al reached into the box, pulled the amulet out by its chain and slipped it on after doffing his fedora. At once a crawling sensation passed over his skin, and disappeared almost instantaneously.

Al looked at Glytch, who was guffawing unahamedly. Edward goggled at him, looking like a jacked deer. Billens, ever impeturbable, simply remarked "Quite effective."

Al walked over to the fireplace - there was a mirror over it. When he reached there, he too started laughing uncontrollably - looking out at him and wearing his clothes was Edward.

"Well, I guess they figured out something - quite a handy toy. I wonder if it's reprogrammable, or if it's just good for me being Edward?"

Edward muttered "They simply do not pay me enough for this..." and wandered back to the kitchen area muttering imprecations about mages, humans, centaurs and the bad decisions those in love make.

After a ride into Minneapolis in the LTD the trio arrived at the Pillsbury Mills complex. Parking in the lot, their first stop was ythe construction trailer parked to the side. inside, Billens waved his ID and introduced Glytch and Al as Messrs Chase and Sanborn - inspectors for construction.

Thoroughly intimidated, the construction supervisor and the site foreman took them into the site, starting to give them the grand tour. Al lagged behind a moment on the usual excuse, and took the elevator to the 7th floor. "704, 704....where is the wretched thing...Ah."

There was a note on the door - "Camera on table and memory. Don't let the cat out. - Amanda"

Slipping in, Al marveled for a monent at the fantastic view out her windows - the Mississippi River, the city landscape, all from the clean heights of the building. Pocketing the camera and the SD chips, he exited the loft.

Back on the ground floor, he walked through the cavernous public spaces there, snapping madly the entire time. The construction workers, warned there were inspectors on site, did what any sane being does at a time like that - they looked busy and minded their own business.

What he saw didn;t please him. The construction was still at a very incomplete stage. The public spaces supposed to be dance studios, performance spaces and the like were still cavernous, open holes with the finshing in process. Ceilings were open, the floors unfinished, and there had been obvious water problems - with stacks of sandbags building channels along the walls, supporting sheets of concrete sheeting.

This wan't ready for a wedding, by any stretch of the imagination.

Stepping up to the mezzanine, Al continued to photograph, deliberately oblivious to the furtive looks of the workmen around. He did take note of the many open junction boxes, wiring protruding and the roughness of surfaces. The windows looking out were also overdue for replacement and the replacements were in cases in the construction yard - that likely to happen after the interior work was firmed up as a last step. Filling an SD card with images, he slipped in another and proceeded to photograph at random, to disguise his intentions.

Slipping back to the elevator, he dropped off the camera, retaining the SD cards in his pocket. Back down to the first floor, he followed the loudest collection of voices, to find Glytch - Inspector Chase - in full cry at an attentive group of supervisors. Billens, looking impassive as usual, stood back a pace or four but Al distinctly though he detected an undercurrent of humor in his gaze.

"WHAT do you think these ceiling supports are all about? I understand that they're to code, but the attachment methods are simply WRONG. THere are six bolts there for each - I have yet to see one with more than four."

"But -"

"BUT Nothing! FIX THEM. And when you go home tonight, look up the word 'Redundancy.' Do you honestly think you should suspend nearly a ton of material over an area that can contain hundreds of people AND ONLY USE JUST ENOUGH BOLTS? This wiring is another issue - there are open boxes everywhere and NO - repeat NO tags as to whether these circuits are live or not." He swelled his chest, deepening his voice to a near perfect impersonation of R. Lee Ermey's iconic voice. "THIS IS DANGEROUS! WHAT PART OF DANGEROUS DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? DO I NEED TO GIVE YOU A VOCABULARY LESSON?"

"But-"

"NO BUTS! And these sandbags and berms of concrete sheeting - is this an architectural detail or are we simply planning on rerouting the river in here for a pleasing water feature?"

Spotting Al out of the corner of his eye, he went into conciliatory mode. "Look, I realize how hard it is to do things like this properly - but you gentlemen need to be paying attention... You guys are trying - I will give you that. However, you need to deal with this. Please, PLEASE get these things straightened out. We'll be back before you open the main floors for a final walk through - PLEASE get this stuff sorted out by then."

They headed for the exit, and Al was thrilled to see he hadn't even been significantly missed. No handshakes punctuated their departure - the site supervisor was visibly pleased to see them heading for the door.

Back in the LTD, Al remarked "Glytch lad, you missed your calling in computers. You should be on the stage. You had them all captivated - they never knew I was there or gone. You did a marvelous job."

"I have a lot of callings... Computers just happen to pay better than most. Did you get the photos?"

"Got them - a few hundred detailed images - I really need to buy a Nikon like the one I borrowed. Let's get back to the farm, let Mr. Billens get back to his life and upload these pictures to your computer. I think the General, Greg and I have some work to do."

[AmriloJim]

Arthur and I approve of the aliases you came up with in an instant.

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[DinkyInky]

After trying unsucessfully to nap, Emerauld decided to finish the job she agreed to. Taking the bundle from the tree, she crept along to the clearing she'd used previously, unrolled the bundle, and dismantled the monster.
Drawing a small pouch from her pack, which was in serious need of organising from her constant haphazard pulls, she opened it to find her flute cleaning tools, and selected one of the ragmop heads that had the most wear that could be sacrificed.
Next, she took the holder she had made that was always too big for the pipes...she wouldn't exactly miss it. Closing the pouch, she returned it to her pack, then assembled the cleaning tool.
The next part was truly going to be unpleasant...cleaning the monster with what he called solvent.

Tying a scrap of cloth around her face and wearing the gloves that were no longer able to be fixed nicely, she covered them in what he called plastic gloves.
Taking the assembled tool, she dipped it into the solvent and cleaned the long tube, blotting it clean on scraps and repeating it until no more blackness came out.
She then repeated the process with every piece shown to need it, and finally swabbed it out with it cleaned and wrapped this strange oil cloth on it, and wiped the interior to insure the moving parts were lubricated. To finish, she took another and wiped the outside all the way to just outside the wooden area. Putting all of the detritus into the plastic bag given, she took a dry scrap and wiped it of all excess oils and cleaners to finish it, then placed the monster back onto the cloth.
Pulling off the gloves and mask, she tossed them into the bag tying it closed with a wail, cast a quick thorn trap, and sprinted to camp to wash the foulness off her with her soap, made from oils and woodash, and scented with lavender and sage.
Satisfied she could no longer smell it, she emptied the bucket into a diseased stump, thinking the poisons in those "cleaners" might kill off the disease in the stump before it corrupted the live trees.
Racing back, she dispelled the trap and took up the finished bundle and the bag.

"I might just give it to him early just to get it away from me, this thing is so horrible," thought the elf with a shudder.

Placing them in the camp, she decided to not inflict it upon Lady Willow further, instead she put them into a stump nearby, and drawing wild energy from the leyline, cast her thorn trap on it.
Shuddering with relief, she washed her hands again, and decided to do more pleasant things.

Taking out a roll of pale, soft green leather, she set to work on making a warm coat for the sweet child Castela that visited earlier.
To further insulate, she lined the insides with the last of her lavender dyed spider silk(she smiled, because she finally found a worthy use for the expensive fabric bought on a moment of impulse. It was tough, and should be able to withstand most of the shock of thorns, and almost as lovely as she that would wear it), which was backed by a spider silk quilted piece, to keep her sooo warm.
She made a quilted lined hood, a half cape around the shoulders, and worked lavender silk forget-me-nots all around the edges of the hood, cape, sleeves, button placard, and bottom trim to make it match.
Finishing it off were button loops, and the "tiger claw" buttons, made of ironwood, which she had carved floral patterns on a whim. It was apparent she had made them for this moment, this coat, this girl. Instead of gloves, she made a quilted lined muff, and matched the edging with the rest of the coat. "Do they even use these here?" she wondered. "I hope so."

With the thought of warmth, she placed a blessing for Spring on the coat, with the fervent wish to warm and protect her.

Wrapping the coat in a festive fabric, she tied it off with ribbons she thought Castela would like.
Clearing the mess from this was lighthearted fun, and when she was done, she happily carried the bundle to Lady Willow, who eagerly took it. Climbing up into the highest part, she fell into a calm restful sleep, dreaming of a cute little plant girl picking flowers.

[TazManiac]

It does me good, and it does me well, to be even the littlest part of this... taz

[Warrl]

Nitpicks:

(Dangit, doesn't this forum do spoiler tags?)

Glytch: Is the guy's name Edward, or Edwards? You're inconsistent.

Dinky: One grammar thing that tripped me up:

Naked, but for the makers marks, she unpacked her engraving tools

I'm willing to believe that Emerauld sometimes does her crafting naked, but I doubt if she would in this instance - and does she really bear maker's marks?

[DinkyInky]

Waking from her nap feeling energised and rested, Safyr decided to see if her "stalker" had set anything new.
She donned her light chainmail(which she covered with leather overtunic and trousers), leather boots, green and brown patchwork cloak, chanted a quick spell to let her float, and cloaked herself in shadows, before striding to where she found the sticks.

As she approached the clearing, carefully moving within the shadows dancing from the canopy of trees, she noticed a few things.
There were many more "eyes" set up than last time, and centered almost certainly in an obvious trap for them, were the other sticks, and some food. Also, he was hiding nearby, watching.

"Challenge accepted, human." She thought with a grin.

Climbing into a tree, she searched through her pack, and found her other Ironwood practice sticks, and two pair of thick Oak tonfa, which she had recently learned to craft.
Since she now knew how to make them, she could easily make them from the more durable Ironwood, or even metal, making it no sacrifice to part with...plus, she really wanted to see the creature...Tina, spar with them.
Wrapping them quickly in a scrap of fabric so as not to make obvious noise, she closed and shouldered her pack.
Leaping from the tree, she gently floated down, and chanted wordlessly, drawing the shadows and a thick, creeping fog to the spot with the "bait".
Shadowstepping under the spot, she reached her hand into the fog covered clearing, and placed the bundle, before removing the sticks and food(which she was sure her sister would be grateful for).
Shadowstepping back to the tree she had been hiding in, she climbed up, and dispelled the clearing, before returning to camp, and resuming her spot in the safe haven her sister had made.

"Ussta yah, Eme'," she thought with a grimace, "This is what you do for fun?"

[DinkyInky]

Nitpicks:

(Dangit, doesn't this forum do spoiler tags?)

Dinky: One grammar thing that tripped me up:

Naked, but for the makers marks, she unpacked her engraving tools

I'm willing to believe that Emerauld sometimes does her crafting naked, but I doubt if she would in this instance - and does she really bear maker's marks?

Nope. Highlight them and select font colour white is about your best option.

I'm doing all of this on a seven-inch tablet, coupled with Mom duties...I don't always pick it up right away.

I do try to correct them as I catch them. Thanks for the heads up.

[GlytchMeister]

Nitpicks:

(Dangit, doesn't this forum do spoiler tags?)

Glytch: Is the guy's name Edward, or Edwards? You're inconsistent.

Whoops! I really need to write up that cheat sheet...

Post-Edit:
I collaborated with Al on that chunk, and did my typing on an iPhone 4 during lunch at work, so I forgot to make the credit note at the top. As it turns out, it was Al who said Edwards.

I had to go and check one of Sarge's earlier posts to make sure, but the head butler's name is Edward.

Easy mistake to make, Al.

Heh... I wasn't being inconsistent after all!

[Just Old Al]

Re: Edward/Edwards...picky, picky, picky...

I notice that earlier on as well and hadn't gotten back to deal with it. My bad.

I am having SO much fun with this. I would never, ever have thought that I could write cooperatively with other people in a story, never mind in a scene. Wow.

Also, kudos to Jim for recognizing the names...that came to me in a burst of caffeine-fueled enthusiasm. The one thing Al and I do share is a love for our coffee.

[Just Old Al]

(Psst, Al: Minneapolis definitely has a Whole Foods Market - in fact, it's right across Excelsior from Punch Pie Wood Oven Pizza...)

Oh, I don't doubt it....but while Al is a resident of Minneapolis, his food tastes don't run to shopping at Whole Paycheck. He's more of an artisan shopper - bread at the baker's, meat at the butcher's and so on. When you're alone you don't have to hurry with these things, and the butcher he deals with is one that also is a grocery and general foods store - great quality and most everything's locally sourced.

That, and they do the best bangers....

The place he goes is much like this one - this one's in northern Massachusetts, but you get the idea...

http://www.alpinebutcher.com/about/

[jwhouk]

Lund's is pretty close to that. And the Co-op that Monica loves (okay, mostly the bananas).

Regardless - there's plenty of those types of stores in Minneapolis. And if they're not in MPLS, they're somewhere in the greater Twin Cities area.

Oh, and as the one who's compiling the entire story, I think I know what to get Al for Christmas: a spelchekr.

[jwhouk]

Tuesday morning:

"Wait, you mean I gotta stay here eight more hours?"

"Well, unless you want to stay and deal with these children during the daytime while I go home and sleep?"

"Razzzin-frezzin-bettergetpaidDOUBLEforthisduty..."

[GlytchMeister]

John breathed... And he was immediately assaulted by the smell of tile floors, plastic, and an old rug. The intensity of the smells sent him reeling, and he tipped backwards, almost falling back into the portal cloth. Monica managed to grab him by the collar of his cloak just before he made contact and went back to Hades' gruesome castle. "Steady there, John... What's wrong?"
"The smell..." John managed to choke out before a fit of coughing brought him to his knee. "I haven't smelled anything besides Gibil, Tepoz, and smoke for... For..." John floundered, struggling to quantify time. "A long time..."
Monica cocked her head. "The... Smell?"
"Have you ever spent a... Long time... Without smelling anything but creatures? The visitors carried hints of scents, but nothing this powerful... Though that Musk Ox guy was pretty pungent..."
"Not as long as you... I will say I particularly enjoyed smelling Geo- uh..." She cut herself off, blushing slightly.
"Sensei, I think we're past the point of you being bashful about Jet around me." John raised an eyebrow at her as he stood, drying his watering eyes. "Ok, it's not so bad now... Let-"
John didn't finish his sentence. Monica poited the two of them to a large room with a large empty table. The smell of wood, dust, food, dirt, grass, leaves, and more assaulted him.
He keeled over sideways and hit the ground hard, unconscious before he was done falling.