To the Cay

Dispatch- By Pigeon courier

Miss Connolly, I hope this message comes quickly and finds you well.

My trip to Caledon was speedy and safe, and soon I set out with my fowl-of-burden to join the voyage of discovery to the new isle of Phillip.

I paused before leaving Kittywickshire at Kittyswitch, residence of the beautiful former ward of the Bardhaven estate, Miss Kiralette Kelley. I had hoped to see her before I begun the long journey, unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found. I left a note explaining my journey, and conveyed my most tender sentiments and hope for her safety. How I shall miss her!

I pressed on through Caledon's highways, to Mayfair, where, at the Bardhaven house, again I searched for Miss Kelley to no avail. Baroness Bardhaven looked slightly unnerved by the emergence of Phillip, but seemed oddly glowing despite this, and politely offered me a spot of tea before I joined the Baron, who already departed for the Cay to ready the ship for our voyage. I declined, and pressed the wagon on to the Cay.

The ship lay waiting, the loading of provisions having begun, there I found my fellow journeyers- The Noble Duchesses of Carntraigh and Loch Avie, Their Graces Gabrielle and Eva; The Baronesses Amber and Darkling (although the last is a foreign title, I understand), and together with the Baron Bardhaven this formed a very Noble company, indeed. The learned Doctor Sputnik attended as well, with his companion Miss Lightfoot and we together formed the common element of this voyage of discovery. Barnss Amber has brought a decrepit maid-servant, much advanced in years and of questionable reliance.

I summoned my pack-bearers forward, and they seemed to draw much amusement from the onlookers- I took no notice of this, knowing their true worth and usefulness.

Baron Bardhaven deigned to converse with me by asking what wine I would drink with a penguin, I was about to answer that the penguins preferred rum to wine, when our attention was distracted by some fine barrels of provisions coming aboard.

I sensed a familiar scent as it passed, and could not place it though it distracted me greatly.

Unpacking my goods from the Pengis, and relieving them of their burdens, I combed them, then set them to a well-bedded pen, stocked with a bucket of fresh catch, with which they seemed quite content. Finding myself with a bit of time, I lit to the deck and surveyed the Infant Isle closely with a spyglass. Phillip rises into the air from a green, verdant base, a large cone capped intermittently with the flashes of fire that betray looming activity. Rumbles course from the isle, the lands of the Cay echoing it's vibrations in small shocks. Dr Sputnik has advised me the situation is dire, that this activity threatened Caledon as a whole- these calculations have been confirmed by Dr Beaker of the Society, and this danger causes me no little concern.

Around the ring of the base of the Isle I have spied small plumes of smoke that could be taken as campfires and evidence of native presence, but could also be but venting of the volcanic activity, so I draw no conclusions here. Until the isle is set foot upon, we shall not know.

I do assume the isle will not be fit for parcelling, owing to it's unstable and volatile nature. But, then again, I have seen worse lands well-occupied, so we shall see. The Boat now leaves the harbor, and we begin our journey in earnest. As I sit on the barrel of apples that so distracted me, and continues to vex me with a familiar feel, I stare back fondly at the Caledonian shore, wondering if I shall ever see it again...

I close, your servant, etc

G. Abel

The March to Bardhaven

Packing was completed quickly, assembling weapons, instruments (both scientific and musical) a reference library, stout shoes, food-rations, and many towels. These I shared out to each of my fowly sherpas, not over-burdening their wee frames.



As daylight spread we assembled for the jaunt to Bardhaven's Manse, each bird clucking and chirping happily under their charges, and eager for the journey.



I sped my noble steed, Johnny Thunder, ahead, furiously we charged across the plains and streams of Kittiwickshire, straining forward, unstopping in our gallop, the wind rushing in hair and mane as the yards hurriedly swept underfoot, the quiet morn broken only by a constant thwumping and squealing in our wake...Eventually, I turned to investgate this noise...



The sweet birdy bearers recovered from their bruises and consoled by a fine fish feast, we set out again, this time safely in a Conestoga. I scritched ruffled feathers as we drove along, a cheerful song escaping from my lips, the pengis squwaking along..



"Got a whale of a tale to tell you, birds, a whale of a tale or two-ooo
'Bout the flapping fish and the girls ive met
on days like this 'fore the sun has set
a whale of a tale and it's all true,
I swear by my "hottie" tatoo!

There was dainty Darkling..
twere a mirthsome modelin' maiden
and her eyes so sparkling
evidenced of patience fadin'
Her witchwand quicker than any tombstone gun
when they saw the wand in hand the griefers knew to run

Oh, Got a whale of a tale to tell you, birds, a whale of a tale or two-ooo
'Bout the flapping fish and the girls ive met
on days like this 'fore the sun has set
a whale of a tale and it's all true,
I swear by my "hottie" tatoo!"

(to be continued)

Prologue to Adventure!

My story begins in the bustling town of Tombstone, Arizona. I had returned here, as I often do, to manage certain investments and examine the growth of the town, which is ever-changing and improving upon itself. Not that it is a peaceful or relaxing place; rather, it can be boisterous and murderous if one is thrust into the typical situations of mis-communication that tends to leave slow-to-act strangers either dangling from a rope or staining the street with some bodily fluid or another, too often blood-red, through some misfortune of step or speech. Therefore have I sought a haven from violence here, and found it the reading rooms of the charming and well-armed Miss Connolly, also of Regency, Caledon.

Along with Miss Connolly's station as the editor of the appropriately named town paper "The Epitaph," she also edits a fledgling world-journal of some note "The Connolly Telegraph" devoted to international interest, and covering the doings of many a civilised nation, including Steelhead, Caledon, and others. Above her offices here is a restful library, a den unknown it seems by all but the most erudite locals, and therefore is to me a sanctuary in the storm that Tombstone can be.

In exchange for use of and relief gained by this well-stocked reading room, as shelter to both relax and to review my papers while here, I have agreed to donate time to her International Journal, and aide where suited; and, as this agreement has met with both of our approval, I had once again taken advantage of this offer by stretching out on the library's well-stuffed divan with a volume of Byron, when I heard a summons from Miss Connolly as she worked in her office below..

"Mr Abel??!?"

Hearing the urgent nature of the summons, I quickly trotted downstairs where she bade me sit, with look of import in her expression, she paced a moment, then took seat at her desk across from me. "Esteemed Mr. Abel..." She began.

"Mr Abel, while I do appreciate your efforts and eagerness as illustrator, I really must question the results of your last assignment...Now, you were sent to illustrate the opening of a new haberdashery in town, but the results of this event were...well, not obvious in your depiction. Tell me sir, are you familiar with copper engraving or daguerreotype facsimile?"

I asserted "I am, but did not use that approach for this assignment..."

"Ah, you did use an approach, then?" she rejoined with a hint of sarcasm.

I replied "Yes, Indeed...lately I have been influenced by the schools of Impressionism and Minimalism, and I used a combination of these with my depiction..."

"I see, that explains why the illustration that was submitted to the printer, and reached my readers, of the opening of a hat store...comprised of two small crimson dots in a 6x8 inch square? Frankly, most readers thought they had shut the page on an insect of some sort! Tell me, sir, do you find that depiction to be a clear communication of the Business's opening and products available?" she said, a little testily.

I sputtered a trite "Art...must advance...ummm...see, the one dot was 'commercialism in bondage,' the second represents a great deal on a beaver skin tophat.."

"Mr. Abel..", she interrupted, now caressing her fwc sawed-off shotgun plainly in annoyance. "Mr. Abel, I have a different type of assignment for you that I expect you to be more successful with. I know you are literate, perhaps journalistic record would be more suited to you. Therefore, I have arranged an assignment, and a journey I would like you to partake in."

"Oh?" I said, interested in my life continuing.

"Shocking news has reached us from Caledon, a most unthought-of event has occurred and taken the country by surprise."

"SLRFL is finally over?" I giggled.

She glowered back "SLRFL is a wonderful charity that many people should be thanked for, for working very hard on."

"SLRFL is a wonderful charity that many people should be thanked for, for working very, very hard on!" I agreed instantly.

She continued, "The news I refer to is that a steaming volcanic island has risen from the Sea of Caledon, quite mysteriously, and may contain natives, jungle habitat, and great treasure, for all that is known."

"This is not Regency, then." I spoke, thinking the isle type ill-fitted for a regency romantic theme.

"Not Regency indeed, but a land already dubbed "Phillip" and ready for mapping and inquiry--for, Mr. Abel, --Our readers want to know the vital information! What are the lot sizes and are they pre-booked?!"

I nodded in agreement. "Then you wish me to travel, and investigate, report back, is this right?

"Yes, Immediately. I have pulled some strings with the Caledon Research team to get them to accept yo...er, to add your name to their team. You must return to Caledon at once to join them. You will accept this assignment, yes?"

"Certainly," I said "It is the right and good thing to do."

"Bon Voyage, then" she said as I rose and turned for the door. As I stepped outside and mounted my steed, I thought I heard her chuckling evilly, but that may just be the way Miss Connolly chuckles normally, for all I know. Chuckles vary.

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I stopped only at the telegraph office to notify the expedition's organizer, Baron Bardhaven, of acceptance and soon arrival, then lit out for a speedy ride to Caledon, to Kittiwickshire to assemble supplies for the journey.

I rode to the north coast and viewed the foreboding new isle, jutting rudely from the placid waters of the Caledon sea. What strange adventures awaited there?

I hurried home, packed a trip-sack, then gathered together my pack-penguins for loading...

Coming Soon...

Creature Comfort

(Sung to the tune of The Ballad of Davey Crockett)

Bored on a primmy lot on the Caledon Sea
Made a green Estate, to keep the airways free
Rezzed him a woods, so's he knew'd every tree
Found him a Bahr-cub to keep him company!

Gnarleee...Gnarli-hotep! He's the guy we're singing bout here!

Gnarli always felt he should treat the critters fair/
So he took it off to Steelhead, and they set to drinking there/
Then over to the brothel ,where he pushed it up the stair/
It went up the steps a cub, and came down a bear/

Gnarlee..Gnarli-hotep! Is buying another beeer!


He Paddled back to Caledon a-when the evening fell/
A-running into banks, being drunk as hell/
Opened up the door and was hit by a smell/
And an angry mother bear who was waiting thar as well !

Gnarlee...Gnarli-Hotep! Is Hidin' up in a tree!

Gnarli's Av: Stop!!!!! I've had it! Post after post of these ridiculous situations!! These posts should be about your experience in SL, what you've learned, not just contrived narratives, right?!!

Gnarli's Av: You could post about the fun you're having- your rediscovery of Tombstone and how much it's changed, or the great Skating party at Kittyswitch and how much fun that was..Or for heaven's sake, the adoration you feel for Miss Kiralette and how you you are filled with bliss every moment you spend with her! These are real posting subjects, not Keanu Reeves, bear-debauching, or a senile old coot spouting!


Gnarli's Av: Well, I've had it!! I insist that you start posting about items of of relevance and stop making me look like a fool!!!



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Princess Gnarlikitti was a kitty with a very special secret...

Interview With a World Warrior

43 years later -


One summer day in 1897, a Steam-Car approaches the parked wagon of an encamped grizzled old man vending from the riverside. As the auto sputters to a halt, it disgorges a smartly-dressed journalist clutching notepad and pen, who nods and chortles a greeting to the old man.



Interviewer: Good day, Sir!

Gnarli: Howdy! Can I interest you in a penguin?

Interviewer: Pardon?

Gnarli: Penguin, son! Finest of the fowl! these dance, too! I can let you have one for 15 Lindens.

Interviewer: ...How amusing.. but actually..Pardon, sir, might you be Mr Gnarlihotep Abel? of Caledon Kittiwickshire?

Gnarli: Aye, that I be! How may I help you, son?




Interviewer: Well, I understand you witnessed the Alien Attack incident of '54? The battle for Caledon? I'd like to record your story about what happened.. about the defense, what happened that day?

Gnarli: Ish!..a sad day! ...then a penguin perhaps?

Interviewer: Yes, perhaps. Do you have recollections of the day?

Gnarli: Well...why sure, young man, I can tell you about that...But these are mighty fine penguins, you may want to consider buying one..

Interviewer: I understand you were residing there when it happened?

Gnarli: Well, let me think back..yep, It was just after I had worked on the Abeldown estate, got it in order. I recall I then had some fool notion about running a steamship service between Steelhead and Caledon (they were two different lands back then) but had no idea how to man that ship, being used to the sail. The engines baffled me and I was casting about for an engineer and chief..Now I recall..




Gnarli: It was a July morning in 1854, I had..., let's see, already taken delivery of a steamship and was refitting it - my, I cut a dashing figure back then! I was not with the militia, as was normal in that day, balking at being ordered about since my calvary days (did I mention I was in the US calvary? anyway...) I recall the militia had split into two factions, with an argument about the best way to suck eggs, or some such...I was never much of an egg-sucker myself, so I payed no mind..anyhoo,




Gnarli: I remember that day I was fitting out the sternwheeler, and had jumped in the lagoon to pull out some pesky bullrushes, I remember that distinctly, when I heard an alarm raised- Aliens in Caledon! Not knowing what to expect, I ran aboard the steamer, grabbed my shotgun and went a-running, my clothes dripping, sopping wet, a-to the village, where I could see some kind of commotion from afar.




Gnarli: Coming into the village and looking down the street, I saw shiny figures with long draping legs or tentacles hanging and writhing, massive, high as a church steeple, hovering and menacing, moving near the main square above running, scattered, people below. I heard shots ring out, and as I watched, these beasts held aloft some sort of disk from which leaped bright fire, jetting forth to building-side and street-face, bursting flame everywhere. I stood in shock for a moment, not summoning myself to move until a great lash of fire struck near me to one side..I ducked and ran- I could feel the searing around me as I sped for the waterfront, my wet clothes now steaming and drying as I leaped past the flames.



Gnarli: On I ran..half dazed, till I met the shore and in the water I went, soothing, collecting my wits. The screams, shouts and shots continued, I heard ricochets and calls for stronger arms. Hopeless wailing in a case or two were shouted out by rallying calls. My shotgun had been emptied to no avail, I reloaded, and considered what could be done with these small arms in the face of the fiery threat.



Gnarli: As I looked up on Mr Mako's dock I saw my answer- a twelve pounder howitzer laid idle. Once having had the acquaintence of an officer of artillery, I had studied the firing of these guns, and knew it could be managed by one, so I gathered my strength and lit upon the dock, pressing and pulling the gun carriage to the street as the battle continued around the salty mermaid. Dashing back to retrieve a wheel-barrow of cartridge-made shot, I returned to the gun...

Interviewer: And then?



Gnarli: I poised the gun with a guess at elevation and opened my own barrage at the tall squid-like mechanism. Shot after shot I loaded and fired, flame-rays raining close on two occasions...I recall one monster made it's way over me, the other haven fallen at the mermaid under combined fire- I wheeled the gun around and opened up again, missing wildly, I am sure...At that time I heard the song of the beasts as they past overhead--"OohLahLah" it moaned. I felt the heat rise around me, and ducked for cover as fire burst up to either side... I took refuge behind a brick step and then, at once the remaining beast had departed..I learned later they had left to ravage other caledonian lands, but I hoped at that point they had gone for good.



Gnarli: I remember suryeying the destruction done, burning fires, injured defenders, a crumpled mechanism down which some continued to blast at. The call went up that these beasts were afoot elsewhere, had destroyed a militia camp and were still eager for mischief. I knew we must take the fight to them.




Gnarli: Not willing to settle for any less armament than this cannon, I fetched my horses, riding the Roan, I strapped the gun carriage to the strong bay and lit out in pursuit. Nightfall found me in the moors where I met the injured Baroness Amber, Dr Darien and Mr 98. Soon a troop reassembled after a stirring defense of Tammorach, the division mustered again at the Moors where Field Marshal (he was then but a leftenant colonel) O'Toole described how he had 2 of his favorite steeds shot out from under as he defended his own home and harried the machines throughout the lands of Caledon. A messenger arrived, announcing the beasts were marching on Mayfair, as the Militia formed for march, I sped off as fast as my steeds would allow, through the empty streets of Victoria, north through Cantraigh Duchy..hoping to lend defense through a flanking attack upon entry to Mayfair.

Gnarli: Well, to my surprise, as I neared the square of Cantraigh, there were two giant forms waiting there. I could see them easily, though they could not yet spy me. Hauling the gun up a local prominence, I sent word the beasts were near..then taking aim...

Interviewer: Yes?





Gnarli: I sent volley after volley of twelve pound round, some at blank range, I was savage in my attack, a machine fighting machine, the shot flew, the smoke filled the air, I heard it's song grow louder as it came toward me, the other fled, but one great shiny monster menaced me, casting it's heat shot below and around me, but obscured by the smoke, missing me, as I loaded and fired again and again. In a flash, it was gone. I do not not flatter myself it was destroyed, but the victory for me was sweet-simply to be alive. I held the last of my shot in my hand, one left..which I loaded and waited what seemed endless minutes for it's return. Finally I heard the alarm bells of Mayfair ring out, and, deserting the gun, grabbed my scattergun and sprinted for Mayfair town.

>

Gnarli: The battle raged on, I found myself making for the Bardhaven House, for my own reasons, choosing it as the halls I would defend. The monsters filled the skies with thier roars, the defenders of Calendon..Sir Edward was there, of course, and his troop, and many an angry landholder,.. as they fought the beasts with ingenious and deadly devices,



Gnarli: Oh, what a day was that bloody defence, how the beasts cried and bellowed, the men and women and tiny furry things of Caledon would not be removed with ease, and with the will of a nation fought back handily. The beasts tired, and damaged and denied, withdrew. Nevermore to be seen, to my knowledge. A WooHoo and Hurrah rang forth the town, echoing amidst both debris and unscathed structure as the Flag waved proudly on.



Gnarli: I feared for my lands, having not been back since early that day, so hiring a balloon, I made a hasty way back to the steamer, landing to find her thankfully safe. The battle was over for me only then. The frogs had not taken or sunk her.

Interviewer: Frogs? Ah..yesss..Mr Abel, It has been reported that you have the unique notion that these attackers were of nearby terrestrial origin? that is, from Earth?



Gnarli: From Earth? hell yes, from earth! They were Frenchies, I keep telling folks! I tell ya, I heard them sing "Ooh-Lah-Lah" after each man went down.. have you not seen Mr Eiffel's tower? the spitting image of these beasts..

Interviewer: Yes Mr. Abel, you did express that notion at the Ministry of Defense, and the Academy of Sciences...

Gnarli: The blowed-up cuss fools!

Interviewer: And..How many years were you at the Sanitorium later?

Gnarli: Mmmm.....


Gnarli: Say, you gonna buy a penguin or not, young feller!?

No Bert.