The Refulgency of Rally #1

[-Lacie-]

Chapter 1

The Valley has always been a realm of Radiance and cool breezes, but today had been a particularly pleasant Dream. The sometimes stilled air blew at times with an almost electrified charge, spiriting the Soul and pleasingly crisp to the cheek. This usually resulted in rosy cheeks and stimulating encounters with "the natives". It also, not to forget, was most effective in drying Cascara Buckthorn's beautiful azure pillow cases, errmm, Capes, to perfection and always wrinkle-free.

Sir Emory was always keenly aware of Sir Chauncy's demeanor ... they finished each other's thoughts and always knew immediately if one required something of the other. No one needed to be reminded that the ~look~ exchanged between them said only one thing, "Dreams ~do~ come true". This was the bond they shared and NOTHING would ever destroy that! Now, this conduct couldn't ever be a "bad" thing, but it did sometimes pose for some interesting situations. Sir Emory was at the Shop (that was their term for the Spa, seeing as how the business was so much more than a place to rest and relax). Sir Emory & Sir Chauncy had invested much time in the "Rally-Up Restful Retreat & Recreation" (Aye, that's RURRR for short!), but the otherwise blissful couple's tone often turned terse and tense when the topic changed to RURRR's "official" name. So, this dream, Sir Emory was found hovering over a parchment, ink-soaked fingers clutching an over-inked quill and many scratched-out names. The couple were both quite creative in their own ways, and together, they were a machine when it came to new ideas, projects and such. This, however, was NOT the case when it came to the name for their signature retreat.

Sir Chauncy was in his office... at his desk, as usual - piles of reports, order forms, journals - which, to an outsider, appeared a complete mess. But, to Sir Chauncy, it was an Ordered arrangement of "to-do's", which the everyone knew to LEAVE ALONE. The new shipment had arrived, and Sir Chauncy was taking inventory of the supplies; a piece of parchment attached to a thin, slabbed stone ... a beautiful quill in his hand.

1. 4 Cases of Crease Grease™
2. 3 Gallons of Industrial Strength Degreaser & Exfoliator - Lavender scented
3. 2 replacement Scrapers - Large
4. Large box with a label on the side, listing the contents.

The last item was what Chauncy was searching for. Sir Chauncy had heard of the recent exploits on the Mount. He had tempted Peridot with a permanent position at the Retreat. Her eyes sparkled and dazzled at the compliment. It was a shame her Stronghold forbade any forms of external employment. Sir Chauncy usually got his way, however, this situation was proving to be his most challenging yet. Peridot's skills, while helpful on Sir Drake's hairdos, were wasted and should be utilized to their fullest extent.

The men from the Mount were relieved to finally reach the Basin. Maverick and Shank were still laughing and joking about the incident which led them to the Tavern for relaxation. LeFitte glanced over his shoulder more than usual. He was keeping his good eye on Sir Slicer, curious as to what he had in the suitcase that he was lugging around. LeFitte knew better than to ask, as it would probably result in some long, drawn-out detailing of something LeFitte couldn't care less about. By the time the men got to the Tavern, LeFitte looked over his shoulder again. Sir Slicer was nowhere in sight.

Sir Slicer decided to slip behind the waterfall in the Basin to make his ~transformation~. As he traded his stiff armor for the sheer, lacy gown, his leaf-shaped feet soaked bare, loose & free in the tidal pool. He glanced at the pair of feminine sandals he had put into the bag, deciding against them & opting for a goofy pair of flip-flops he always had stuck in his own pack. He fussed a little at the wig he got from Peridot's belongings, and slung the well-styled wig atop his head, stuffed his clothing into the suitcase. He dabbed a bit of the lipstick on messily and made his way towards Totality.

The short walk left leaf-shaped wet footprints on the otherwise dry ground through Thresway. Sir Slicer wandered up the Valley towards the Retreat, eyes darting constantly to make sure he was neither discovered nor his true identity revealed. As he passed through the portal, the doorbell rung, alerting Sir Emory of a customer awaiting outside. Sir Emory set his ink-stained quill on the table and went to greet the guest.

Sir Slicer moved a few strands of his Peridot-wig from his eyes and attempted a light curtsy for Sir Emory. Sir Emory had to blink a few times, but managed a smile and a gesturing wave of his hand to Sir Slicer, then towards an overstuffed but comfortable chair.

Got your interest peaked? Oh good... tune in next week for Chapter Two!!!!