Going Up? Monday (14 Sep 2001) Tom is paid a visit by Simon while working on a project.

The Gnarly Tree
This tree seems nearly as wide as it is tall, a great mass of twining branches and leafy boughs unlike the conifers prevalent in the area, but resilient enough to weather Ainigton's cold winters. Within its boughs are many forks and nooks, and anyone properly nestled inside is granted considerable cover from prying eyes, as well as vantage-points from which to look down upon Ainigton and Danzwyck Stables, with even more majestic scenery beyond. A dirt path runs nearby, making this tree not entirely secluded from the paths of casual explorers of the wilderness, but it nonetheless offers considerable privacy for the adventuresome at heart.

For the last week, Tom has been alternating between helping to further clean out the basement of the church, and to work with his new materials for the construction of the greatest tree house of all time (or the closest he can approximate it). Toward that end, this project has required much planning and plotting, much taking of inventory of his supplies, measurements of the spaces between some of the sturdier branches, and even bringing his father along to help him survey the site. It's not entirely secret anymore -- At the very least, Mr. Danzwyck knows, along with Tom's father and mother. (Due to her proximity while helping at the stables during summer vacation, she can't help but to stop by now and then, and to bring lunch) So far, however, he's managed to keep it a secret from any other kids. Not even the rest of the "Mirari gang" has had the site revealed yet.

Tom's father has taken a particular interest in instructing Tom in how to be safe, how to build properly, and how to properly respect his tools. Tom's father's opinion on the matter is that if you're going to do a project in a spot far from "civilization", you're better off to do what work you can at home. Toward that end, Tom has been encouraged to assemble things that would require extensive use of (expensive) tools at the house, then have them hauled out in his father's truck in the evening and covered in a tarp, to be assembled the next day. Or, at least, that's the general idea. This is still Tom's project, after all, as Tom's mother has reminded his father, so the elder Winthrope has relented somewhat in any tendency to take over command.

This week, Tom has found himself much more sore than he's ever been before. As with many plans, it always ends up being a lot harder than originally anticipated. But, with his father's help, Tom has made considerable progress on the tree house. Yesterday, his Father helped pull up the sectional flooring into the branches (also with help from the pulleys Tom salvaged. That was luck!). Plus, with advice from his father, he managed to paint the underside of the flooring to somewhat match the tree-coloring, making it a bit harder to see from below. Now, Tom's moved to the next most difficult part, he's started work on the 'elevator' idea he had. He stands over the moderately large hole in the flooring near one end and looks at it. He scratches his neck and mutters, "Okay, let me see how this is going to work. Or if it could even work, rather..."

The tell-tale sound of dry leaves and twigs crunching underfoot can be heard -- Someone is coming up the path. Judging from the position of the sun in the sky ... and the humming ... it sounds like ... Mom.

Tom moves a few branches and tries to peer out, looking for the person heading up the path. If it isn't his mother, he'd better remain silent until whoever it is goes by, lest he be discovered.

As exciting as it might have been for someone else to come along, it's just Tom's mother, Sara Winthrope. She's tall, thin, but not a stranger to manual labor when the need comes for it, as evidenced by her helping out at Danzwyck Stables during the summer session. (During the rest of the year, she teaches First Grade.) She stops out in the middle of the path, amidst several trees, perhaps just pretending that she can't figure out which of the trees Tom might be hiding in.

"This looks like the place," she says, in a melodramatic voice. "I do so hope that I'm not found by the Duke's men, trying to sneak this package to Tom of the Woodland Rangers -- these desperately needed (and very tasty) supplies!"

"Hey!" Tom calls out, then rustles a few branches and says, "Up here." He makes his way over to the edge of the platform, then starts to climb his way back down the tree, his grumbling stomach causing him to momentarily forget about what he was working on. "Those supplies are desperately needed; I'm starving!" he says as he hurries down and into view.

Lady Winthrope looks quickly from side to side, as if scanning for anyone that might be watching, and then dramatically extends the package to Tom. "Mission accomplished!" she declares, then grins as Tom takes the paper bag.

Tom laughs, and opens the bag quickly. "Thanks for bringing lunch again. You know, this is awfully harder than I originally imagined. But, Dad and I have really come up with a few cool things," he says, looking inside the bag. "How's everything over at the stables today?"

Inside the bag is a roast beef sandwich -- reheated leftovers, that is, from the pot roast last night -- wrapped in a baggie, with some celery sticks, a couple of cookies, a banana and apple. "Well, your father did warn you it would be a lot of hard work. But I'm sure it will be worth it," she comments, then pauses thoughtfully. "Oh! Goodness -- I don't want to forget! Your friend Simon is over at the stables. He's been asking after you. I know your tree house is a secret -- but I'm not certain about from whom. Should I give him directions to your secret hideaway?"

Tom pulls the sandwich out and takes a big bite, chewing slowly as he listens to his mother. He swallows a minute later and answers, "Sure, you can tell Simon how to get here. I was going to show him this when I was done, anyway. As for the others, don't tell them if they ask, okay? I'll surprise them when I'm ready. I think Agatha will figure it out anyway. She knows I hang out in this tree often and it's one of the better places to build one anyway."

Mrs. Winthrope smiles. "All right. Ah ... I don't quite know how to play along with your games and such, dear, but do I need to introduce him to you as Tom the Woodsman, or whatever it is you play at being? I wouldn't want to spoil the fun, after all."

Tom grins. "Nah, you don't have to. Just show him out. I'm trying to take a break from the games right now, anyway." He takes another chomp out of the sandwich.

Mrs. Winthrope seems to regard Tom with a skeptical look for the briefest of moments. Most people wouldn't even notice such a thing, but Tom has been in the Winthrope household long enough to know the "I'm wondering if you're not telling me everything" look. However, Tom apparently has also used that time to perfect his own act. She seems to accept that everything's just fine, when she smiles again. "Well, I'll head back and give him directions. You be careful, Tom!"

Tom nods and smiles. "Thanks, Mom! I sure will be. Dad was right: it was a better idea to build the complex stuff at the house and all it out here. I'd have never been able to do what I wanted if I built it all here. I think I should have it mostly done by next weekend."

"That's wonderful, Tom!" his mother says, genuinely. "Maybe then I can lend a helping hand in furnishing it." She looks upward, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Oh, but if we make it too comfortable, then you might never want to come home! Well, I suppose we'll just have to take that risk. Take care, dear." With that, she waves, and makes her way back down the path.

Tom waves. "See you later! Don't worry about helping decorate! You and Dad have already helped a lot!" Tom then thinks, "Plus, I don't want too 'girly' of a tree house, anyway..."

Tom sits down by the base of the tree and works his way through the rest of his lunch. He looks at his cookie, then sticks it in his pocket, saving it for later. "Back to work!" he declares.

Some time later -- enough time for Tom to have finished off what he cares to for now of lunch, and to resume his effort to engineer the elevator, he hears more sounds of leaves and twigs being crunched underfoot. Another visitor!

Tom quits hammering on the elevator cage the moment he hears the twigs snap. Like last time, he goes over and peers through the branches, wondering," Who now?"

A younger boy walks up the path, dirty brown hair cut in a pageboy style; bits of twigs and dirt adhere to his flannel shirt and fraying old jeans. He looks about, casting his gaze about the bushes and undergrowth, but apparently sees nothing unusual. He stands, puzzled, for a moment.

Tom waits, observing. "Okay, Simon, lets see if you can find me," he thinks, grinning.

Simon calls, "Tom! You around?" He studies the tree a moment, since it is rather distinctive ... but the camouflage of the tree house evidently succeeds most admirably, for it slips right past his gaze, and eventually the younger boy begins to trod down the path, perhaps convinced that this is just another tree, and the correct tree lies farther up the hill.

"Cool, it works!" Tom calls out, delighted that Simon failed to see the partial tree house.

The younger boy stops in his tracks, then looks around. "Tom!" Again, his gaze sweeps past the tree house.

Tom shakes a branch. "Up here," he replies, "I guess the paint job and location are working well. C'mon up!"

"Whoa! I completely missed that," the younger boy says admiringly, as he finally catches onto the paint job. He casts about for a rope ladder or something of the sort.

"Uhh, you do know how to climb a tree, right?" Tom asks.

Simon snorts. "Give me a minute and you'll see!" He sets his foot to the bark and starts working his way up, rather nimbly.

One might be impressed at Simon's climbing, though Tom -- an expert on the climbability of trees -- happens to know that this tree is one of the best trees he has ever found for climbing. The lowest boughs are especially low, the bark is very rough and gives considerable purchase, but best of all, it has a lot to climb to.

A bit of bark scrapes free, and Simon skids down the trunk a few inches here and there, but it's a very forgiving tree. While he may not have quite the look of dedicated proficiency that Tom might, he nonetheless is surprisingly agile, and able to scale his way up to the underside of the platform, and to the 3-foot-square hole in the floor near one side, thus gaining entry into Tom's secret base under construction in respectable time.

Tom claps! "Cool, you can climb a tree!" Tom says, grinning. "It's not much yet. Just a floor and a few bits of frame, but it's getting there. I've been spending a lot of time on an easier way to get up and down for those who can't really climb, like Alice."

As Simon gets into the tree house proper, he can see a few tools about (which could explain some of the especially loud woodpeckers he thought he heard a while ago), plus a contraption consisting of some rusty pulleys, rope, and a number of two-by-fours, with a small bucket of nails safely off to one side.

The younger boy grins as he pulls himself up and into the tree house. "Whew! This is a big tree, Tom. Are you going to put in a rope ladder or something? Oh hey..." His gaze falls upon the pulley mechanism. "Is that for an elevator? And you made me climb!" He looks around the tree house, surveying what's been done already.

While the bottom of the platform has been painted in woodsy colors, the upper side of the platform is thickly coated with white house paint -- all the better for handling the weather, no doubt.(It is, incidentally, dry paint, so Simon needn't worry about that problem.)

Tom nods. "Well, yep, there will be an elevator. I'm finishing nailing it together up here. Dad and I built most of it at the house. He designed a lot of it, so..." He moves over to the small frame and tells Simon, "Take a look!"

The base for the "elevator" is about three feet by three feet. Salvaged two-by-fours go up on each corner, forming a cage that's about five feet high. On three sides about midway up, he installed railings, at his father's insistence. On the back railing, the old wench for lifting the "Flying Angel" has been affixed.

At the bottom, near each post, is a hole, with a makeshift wheel (It doesn't really spin; it's just an edge-rounded two-by-four) in it, with rope going through. One side of the rope is firmly attached to each of the posts, the other runs up, and hangs over the top. At center of the top of the top of the elevator cage, what appears to be a rope feeder is in place. Again, a makeshift wheel is set, made from the scrap. Lastly, two small seats have been constructed out of the leftover two-by-fours that were cut to make the posts.

Tom mutters out the workings slowly, to re-assure himself that this will work, "Okay, the four ropes go up into the tree house and through the pulleys. They then come back down and through that center guide in the cage there and around the winch and its pulleys, attaching to the railing for better support. Dad said the pulley ratios should make this pretty easy to crank and still lift a couple of us up. I think it'll also make it go down slower once the winch is released. So, when I turn that winch, it'll roll up the rope, which will pull along the four ropes, ultimately pulling the cage up ... Cool! Man, Dad was right, this should work. And! With those four ropes, it should hang pretty steadily, because it'll balance the load."

The smaller boy looks properly impressed. "This is just incredible," he says. "Have you tried it yet?"

Tom grins and shuffles his feet. "Well ... it works, in theory. We haven't tried it yet."

A grin appears on Simon's face. "No time like the present!"

Tom laughs. "It needs to have the rope threaded through the pulley up there..." Tom points to the one above the hole in the floor. "... then attached to the place inside the cage. We made it slightly smaller than the hole in the floor, so provided we can square it up when we reach the top, it should go through okay. You wanna have the first ride?"

"You have to ask?" Simon says with a laugh. "I'll shinny up and put the rope in, if you want."

Tom nods. "Sure!" He quickly collects the ropes from each of the posts and hands the bundle to Simon and says, "Toss this back down to me when you get it through and I'll get it in place down here."

Simon collects the ropes, putting them over his shoulders, and starts up the trunk. It takes a little ticklish work, making sure everything is squared away properly, but eventually he gets the ropes threaded, the ends trailing down to the cage floor. "Over to you, Tom," he calls from the pulley's branch.

Tom snatches up the dangling ropes and threads them through the makeshift rope guide, trying to be careful not to tangle them together. Next, the rope is threaded through the other pulley, then up to the winch and slid under the guide bar that ensures the rope actually winds up so the winch doesn't just spin inside a rope coil. He ties off the ends tightly, then gives a thumbs-up to Simon. "Got it!"

Simon shinnies back down the branch and over to the tree house. "How does this thing work again?" he asks, eying the winch, but apparently eager to give it a try.

"Well, the theory is that as you crank the winch here, it'll coil up these ropes. It goes through those pulleys that are part of the winch, then up to the other pulley. As you wind, it'll pull on the rope, which will seemingly pull the winch up, but because the ropes go back down, and attach to the cage, what you end up doing is to pull the cage up as you coil the rope around the winch," Tom explains. "Dad said that with the right pulley ratio, you can lift a lot of weight easily. It just takes lots more turns of the winch to do it. The 'Flying Angel' set turned out to be about right for this."

"How do you get down, though?" Simon says, looking uncertain about how this all works.

Tom starts spinning the winch and winding up the rope onto it slowly. "Gotta get it to the right length up here so when we scoot it over the hole, it doesn't go crashing down," Tom says. He then adds, "To go down, you slowly turn the winch and let rope out. Your weight plus the cage weight will keep the rope taut, and as more rope comes off the winch, it'll lower down."

Simon ponders all this. "It's a two-seater, isn't it? Why don't we both get on? Then we'll both have gotten the first ride on it."

"Yeah, it can hold up to two people," Tom considers. "I can't make it huge, not with the size of this fort, anyway." He starts to push the cage over toward the hole at the side of the platform, and says, "Let's get it over there and give it a shot."

The younger boy looks out over the side of the tree house and realizes, perhaps for the first time, that it's a marvelous view. "Whoa... You can see everything from here-- uh?" He moves over to lend a hand.

Fortunately, being that the cage isn't that big and is mainly comprised of plywood, it isn't terribly heavy to move. Tom looks over at Simon and says, "Yeah, I think this'll be really neat when it's done. I wonder who I'll actually show it to."

"Yeah, you didn't say anything at all about this the other day," Simon observes. He frowns a bit as he peers around the edge to make sure it's lined up, remembering why Tom might be a bit reticent to share this information. "Are you still feeling down?"

Tom pauses in pushing a moment to spin the winch again and roll up the rope that has gone slack in the few feet they have moved the cage. He glances over at Simon, then nods. "Well, I can't say I've been exactly thrilled. I'm happy to have this project to keep me busy so I just don't think about it."

Simon grimaces. "Okay, I won't talk about it then." He looks up at the pulley and then around, to make sure everything seems in order.

Tom starts pushing on the cage again and it starts to slip over the hole in the base. "Well," Tom says, "you can talk about it. It's just that I'm not sure I can trust Elinor, or even Agatha, now. As for Alice, she could get so hurt, darting off into the unknown to see 'her' unicorn. It's not a game anymore."

The younger boy ponders this a moment, while testing the floor of the cage to be sure that it will support weight, which apparently it does quite well. "I can see why not Elinor, but why not Agatha?"

"She knew a lot more about what was going on than she told us," Tom says, pausing to again wind up some more rope, moving the cage a bit more slowly now. "And as for Elinor," Tom says, "it bugs me how easily she got me to just change what I was doing. It was for her own benefit, and I just did it." He shakes his head. "I turn to mush around her. I don't know why."

A pause as the younger boy thinks this over, and then Simon asks, "But isn't Agatha still your friend?"

"I don't know," says Tom. "Something as important as what happened, I thought I would be told about sooner, instead of wandering around like a dope. Step away from the cage a moment, will you?"

Simon backs away, curious what's going to be done now. "Maybe. I don't think she did it just because she wanted to, or didn't like us, or something. She still seems like Agatha to me."

Tom picks up a small rope ring around the railing and slips it tightly over the handle on the winch. He gives the cage a firm push and it slips the rest of the way into the hole and drops a few inches with a loud creak!. It then hangs there, base just below the surface of the platform. "Yeah, she still seems like Agatha," Tom agrees. "So, we'll see. I've got to decide what to make of Elinor and how much to trust her. Like that cave up in the hills? The Siege she claimed to have come through, I think. If 'House October' is dangerous, we should find a way to seal it off."

Simon continues to look troubled, though he brightens a moment as the cage seems ready to use. "Just because Agatha hid something from you doesn't make her stop being a friend, okay?" he says. "I don't want you to stop being the best friend I've ever had, because this came up. I want to stay friends with you all." He nods slowly at the thought over House October, however.

Tom nods. "Well, I don't intend to stop being your friend, Agatha's, or Elinor's. I'm just ... shocked ... I guess. I was thinking maybe enough cherry-bombs shoved into some cracks of that crawlspace-tunnel may be enough to collapse it. I'm going back there sometime, alone. I don't need to endanger anyone else." He takes a breath and looks to the cage. "Now or nothing, eh?" He steps out onto the platform, holding his breath.

Creak! The rope tightens from cage floor to pulley to winch, but the cage seems ready to bear weight. Simon joins Tom on it, taking up one of the seats. "Cool!"

Tom takes a seat and lets out his breath slowly. "Whew!" He grips the winch handle and pushes it, finding it not too difficult to crank and says, "Cool so far..." Holding the handle, he slips the restraining circle off it. Then slowly, he starts to turn the crank and let the rope out.

"I don't think you should go by yourself," the younger boy cautions, as he remembers Tom said something before stepping onto the platform. Perhaps the descent of the elevator reminds him of the steep drop there. "There could be a guardian down there, like that Scare-Crow Elinor talked about. We should both go, then I can watch your back for you. Besides, if you have an accident, someone should go for help!"

The forest wobbles a bit from the viewpoint of the elevator, as it descends through the level of the leaves, but the four ropes seem to do an adequate job of keeping the cage stable. With only a three-sided railing around the platform, it feels marvelously open, just ropes keeping the two boys aloft. At any moment, the ropes might snap and drop them ... or not, since the mechanism and the ropes have been inspected by Tom's father, but it's more fun to imagine that the risk exists than to actually be subjected to it.

Tom looks at Simon and says, "Well, I don't want to risk your safety because I'm paranoid. If there's a Scare-Crow, I won't go in, simple as that." He then adds, "And honestly, I want to know more about Elinor's house."

"Huh? Hey, if I'm volunteering for it, it's because I know you won't get us in trouble, but if you won't do it if I'm along, I know it's too dangerous for you," the younger boy says with a grin.

"And I've been having a few weird thoughts about this whole thing, and why we're involved," Tom says. "I'm probably losing my mind."

Simon looks back at Tom with a grin. "Well, I knew that, but what weird thoughts do you mean? The whole business is weird."

"Have you wondered why we've been able to tap this?" Tom asks.

Simon scratches behind his ear as the elevator descends. "Actually, no, I haven't. I just thought we were, like, special or something.... What do you think, then?"

"Well, think on this. It sounds really freaky, and kind of scares me, but ... Alice looks like a member from House April: fair hair, blue eyes. Look at how Elinor looks: black hair, and I think she has green eyes, like me. And look how many of us have green eyes: Rebecca did, Agatha does, I do. Aren't green eyes in folk tales symbols of fey? What if somewhere in all our lineages, we have fey ancestors?" Tom says slowly.

Through the leaves above, a few dark-colored birds can be seen, drifting across the sky lazily. The forest is mostly quiet save for the chattering of squirrels and other small creatures, and the ground is not far at all now, perhaps an easy jump if the boys weren't inclined to wait for the elevator to complete its descent.

Tom pauses to look about, admiring the view. The grin on his face is indicative of how pleased he is that the elevator works. He's going to be thrilled for days ... and probably going up, down, up, down, up, down.

Simon blinks hazel eyes at Tom. "Whoa! My eyes aren't green. I wonder if that's why I wasn't included in that vision? Maybe I'm just tagging along for the ride." He grins wryly. "Scary idea, though."

Tom nods. "Yeah, but doesn't it seem to explain things? About how we tapped this, how they know of us?"

"It does! I wonder if they have prophecies on their side too?" Simon muses. "Hey, how are you going to find out about House October from looking at that cave? Isn't it just going to be filled with junk, and scary growling things?"

Tom, noting that they aren't too far from the ground, releases the winch handle to test how fast it will descend without someone manning the handle, hand near it in case it starts to fall quickly.

whirrrrr ka-thump! The cage plummets the last few feet to the ground, definitely faster than Tom would like. "Oof!" says Simon, who then gives Tom a reproachful look.

"As for learning about them, I don't know," Tom says after recovering from the thump, eyes glaring at the winch. "Sorry, I wanted to test that. Anyway, look for clues, I guess, perhaps watch for awhile and see if anyone comes through. If all else fails, just get Elinor alone and ask her."

"Elevator rule," Tom declares. "Someone must always be at the winch."

Simon eyes Tom as he gets up. "You weren't planning on going through by yourself, were you? Oh! So that's why we fell through the last bit." He nods assent to the rule.

Tom starts to crank the winch, coiling up the rope and says, "Sit back down, please? I want to see how hard it is to go back up, okay?" He glances over at Simon. "Now, would I do something that crazy?"

"Yes," Simon answers as he sits back down, and grins.

"Well, I had considered the idea. But there's no way I could go through. It takes massive magic to open, remember?" Tom says, shrugging. "Plus, it would be seriously dangerous." With a creak, the cage slowly starts to ascend.

Simon hangs onto the railing as the two ascend, the cage floor becoming slightly wobbly again. "Whoo! We're up and away, like the birds!" The younger boy glances sidelong at Tom and points out, "You were thinking about going down into that cave by yourself. I'm not sure mere danger would stop you from going through, if you figured out a way to do it, huh, Tom? Maybe if they left it unlocked..." It doesn't sound like Simon is actually trying to discourage Tom from making the attempt, more that he's interested and most likely would want to come along.

"Well, if it was already open and unguarded," Tom admits, then adds, "or lightly guarded." He then looks out over the landscape as they rise, expression giving away that Tom's been caught.

Simon laughs, and then looks up at the platform over them. "That really is a nice camouflage job ... but, you know, you should paint it brown on top."

"It's not done yet," Tom defends. "It's going to have walls and a roof. The white is to just make the inside look bigger." He then looks back over at Simon. "So, think Elinor would be mad if I try to spy and learn about her house?"

"What for? It's only what she tried to do with us," Simon points out. "Wow, though-- walls and a roof? That's going to be a lot of work! Are you going to want help with it then?"

"Dad's been helping me out with it, but I could always use more. I feel bad dragging you in on my odd project, though," Tom says. "Well, maybe I should just talk to her first and hear about it from her, then see it for myself and compare. You know, that'll show whether or not she's been honest," he says slowly. "Though, Alice had a spell that was to 'Force the Truth from Others'. She showed it to Elinor, who showed it to me. Think she was trying to make an offer of good faith?"

Simon frowns at the mention of the spell. "No, I like helping you, but I don't know about spells ... even if it really did work, and not in a nasty way." He looks deep in thought, as the cage is slowly powered upward by Tom's hand on the winch.

Tom cranks the winch and the cage continues to creep upward, slowly disappearing into the leaves. Finally, the silence gets to him and he says, "Penny for your thoughts? ... You know, I always thought that was a dumb phrase."

"I'm just thinking, if you want to really find out about House October and what they want, the best way to do it is to go there," Simon says. "And if you tell them you're going to, well, they're not going to let you see anything they really want to keep hidden, right?"

Tom nods. "Stands to reason, yes. So, you feel we should sneak in before talking to Elinor, then?"

Simon grins. "It'd be an adventure!" He pauses. "But would we want to bring along Agatha? Or Alice?"

Tom frowns. "I don't want to endanger Alice. Agatha is a possibility, but the fewer of us the less likely we'd probably be seen, right?"

"Right," Simon agrees. "Alice should stay behind. Agatha might want to come along, though, and she's been there, hasn't she? Maybe we should talk to her about it."

Tom nods. "This is true. Since she's been there, that would give her an edge." Above them, the platform now looms. Tom slows down cranking and lets the cage settle and line up with the opening.

Simon watches the process in fascination. "This is just so cool," he enthuses. "A tree house with an elevator!"

Tom laughs. "Well, I thought it would be. I just wasn't sure I could pull it off. But hey, it's working better than expected." He looks back at Simon, pausing the ascension a bit to rest. "So, when do you want to attempt the ... raid?"

"Ummm..." Simon thinks about it. "I've got to be back home in a little while, but maybe you should talk to Agatha, then tell me when you want to do it?"

Tom nods. "Oh, you want me to talk to Agatha, huh?" He resumes cranking the winch and the elevator starts sliding through the opening. "Well, I guess I could always find her at the stables or manor," Tom says, "but I don't want her near that horse when I talk about it."

Simon nods. "Well, it is your expedition, Explorer," he says with a grin. "It wouldn't be right for a humble jester to invite people along, would it?"

The elevator settles back into place, and Thomas slips the rope-restraining ring over the winch handle. The elevator slips a bit back down when he releases, but it steadies out again. Tom reaches over and pokes Simon. "Okay then, you have to follow all my orders." He grins ands says, "Now, before you have to go, I'll fill you in on the layout of the rest of the tree house..."

"Yes, sir!" Simon says with a grin, throwing back a hearty salute.

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.