Welcome to Gaia! ::

Having successfully brought down a manic turkey and carved its rather raw flesh out (being raw had not been part of the plan but it would have to do), Lucille was ready to call it a day. Perhaps an utterance of thanks from the hungry villagers and a comfortable room for the night would be great too.

But no. Apparently not; for as soon as they had fell upon the raw meat and cleaned it within seconds, they had another task up for her.

“This is starting to feel more and more like an Adventure,” muttered Lucille as she followed a beckoning villager.

“Help the dragonseer,” rasped the old villager who had called her over.

“What’s a dragonseer?” asked Lucille warily. Anything with “dragons” in a name had got to be bad news.

…

Look at it this way, if a turkey had given her that much trouble, imagine the damage and devastation a dragon would cause!

“Dragonseer watches from above,” supplied the old villager helpfully.

“That sounds rather ominous,” said Lucille with a suspicious glance upwards.

The old villager made an impatient noise. Clearly he hated wasting any more words than he had to.

“Dragonseer sprained leg,”

“Uh-huh…,” said Lucille encouragingly.

“Need help…,”

“Go on,” prompted Lucille.

“You go up for him,”

“Wait, what?!”

“You will go up into the sky in place of the injured dragonseer to lookout for danger from sand whales!” shouted the villager, clearly upset that such a lengthy explanation was needed to send the irascible child up into the air.

“Oh umm…sure,” said Lucille. “How do I…,”

“You will have to remake the basket for the hot air balloon,” grunted the villager grudgingly. “The last one broke,”

Probably that was how the dragonseer got hurt thought Lucille to herself.

“Will you do it?”

“What?” asked Lucille astonished that a choice had actually been given. She had assumed that the villagers would just take it for granted that she could be imposed upon whenever and however they liked. Clearly she had a lot of learn about these gnarly bunch.

“I said…will you do it?” repeated the villager impatiently.

“Y-Yes I will,” said Lucille. “How do I start?”

“Fix the balloon first,” said the villager. “Materials over there,”

Then deeming that he had helped enough, the old villager then shambled off into the mist, leaving Lucille to her own devices.

“Well then,” said the reaper as she took stock of what was available.

“I guess I should be thankful that the balloon is still in one piece,” mused the reaper. “Next item on the list would be…as the villager mentioned;- to build a sturdy basket and…go on a lookout from above. Not a bad idea actually, considering that I would be able to get a general idea of this place. And if it is possible to catch the next bus out,” said Lucille to herself. “For all I know, Aunt Myrtle’s place is just a walk away,”


“So let’s see…,” said Lucille. “We have… snake leather, thick rope, flaming carpet,a basket of foxfires, a white cloth, carved sand whale bone, a net a table, a door, five golden rings, a pine tree, a trash can, and a really really really really big bottle…,”


“Well, I would definitely need the basket of foxfires,” said Lucille as she set the item aside. “We would need a source of heat to raise the balloon up after all. And as for the basket…,”

“The trash can would have to do,” said the Reaper unhappily. “It is already a sturdy container as it is and there are harnesses from the balloon which can be tied to the trash can,”

Upon closer inspection, the trash can seemed…comparatively clean.

“That’s a blessing, make no mistake,” muttered the Reaper as she worked to get the heated air from the foxfire into the balloon.

Slowly and gradually, the balloon began to fill up.

“This might actually work,” said Lucille, thoroughly surprised with herself. “Well, here it goes…,”

Scrambling into the trash can just as it was about to lift off, Lucille gripped the edges of the can tightly as the inflated balloon brought her ever higher and higher until…

“Gosh! The scene here is pretty clear this high up,” exclaimed the Reaper as she took note of the landscape beneath her. “And what an odd shape this town is… it looks almost like the letter “S”. Is it following a river or a road?” said Lucille who knew a thing or two about geography. Usually small towns and stuff tended to follow the shape of the river or if that were not the case, the shape of a road passing through.

“I wonder if I can leave if there is indeed a road to take me out of this place,” said Lucille to herself.

Then remembering the task at hand, Lucille made a quick scout of the landscape below in search of the terrifying sand whales. Having found none (and feeling pretty cold this high up), Lucille began to lower the balloon bit by bit through the gradual removal of the foxfires from under the balloon (water manipulation was clearly an advantage sometimes).