Here are a couple of pic of me while playing with my graphics settings.
Not much to say about this Jarl and his girl yet. They have come to reside on the Aett, the Jarl lending his axe and skills to Jarl Bjorn and his girl, Asa, helping the Aetts bonds with the chores. She is, however, a fishing fiend! LOL. She may just single handed provide all of the Aett with enough fish to last the long winter through. I will post more of their bios when I get them.
Ridable Pig!! from ~*Sweet Revolutions*~
Bond races on Ridable Pigs!! I wish I could say that I came up with this idea but sadly, I did not. It was give to me by a bond friend from another village. She purchased Pigs for all of us that were there at the time. So I went looking for them on the Marketplace but could not find them. This might have been a limited time offer or something that they just carry in their IN GAME store.
~*Sweet Revolutions*~ makes some of the best low prim props for sims that I have seen. Everything from landscaping to static animals with sounds to decor for harbors and cities. We LOVE their items and have several of them scattered about the Aett. See if you can find them!!
Here is the Link to their Marketplace Store:
They have an IN GAME store located at http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Autumn%20Isle/171/168/26
Check them out! One of our favorites 🙂
Serve with Passion,
After finishing her morning chores, Adira heads to the shed to grab her fishing pole. As she is grabbing her pole, she heres Asa coming from the docks with a basket on her back over flowing with wriggling fish. She watches as one of the slippery creatures leaps from the basket and flops about on the ground. Adira rushes to snatch it up before Asa loses the rest of her days haul chasing it. Adira helps Asa get the fish into the storage barrel. Seeing the barrel full to over filling, she decides to visit the hives instead. Stopping by the hall long enough to light a torch to take with her, Adira makes her way through the woods to the hives nestled among the trees against the side of the mountain.
Walking confidently up to the first hive, she waves the torches smoke beneath the hive a few times letting the smoke waft around the papery home to the insects. Reaching her hand into the hive carefully so as not to disturb them too much, she feels around for the waxy comb that she knows is nestled inside. A few of the bees come out to greet her, landing on her cheeks and nose. She giggles a little at the tickling of their feet on her face. She finds what she seeks and pulls it from the hive, her hand coated in the sticky sweet goo that covers the comb. She takes the bowl from her bag and places the comb in it, nudging a bee or two from her acquisition. One tiny overseer accompanies her from hive to hive buzzing about her face and hands as she deftly pulls combs from each hive. Once complete, she holds up her hand as her yellow and black friend lands there.
“Do you approve wee one?” she asks moving her hand close to her face to examine the tiny insect. Its little antenna regard her curiously as it takes a step or two forward then leaps in to the air, its buzzing wings carrying it back to its hive. Adira scrapes the excess honey from her hand into the bowl and lifting it, turns to carry it back to the house. She sees Dod watching her from a respectable distance. She smiles at him, knowing how uneasy he was around the bees. He always seemed to watch over her as she collected honey. She guessed he feared for her safety. She could not really get through to him that she and the bees were old friends.
After depositing the honey in the kitchen for her to process later, she grabs the torch again and heads to the woods. Dod was in the Aett yard when she exited. “Dod, can you come with me please? I wish to examine the tarsk burrow. We have not seen a wild one in a while and I wish to know if we have killed them all.” He nodded to her. “As you wish, bond.” His voice always surprised her with its deep resonance. The two of them made there way to the burrows. Dod standing by with a spear in hand, Adira tosses the torch into the opening and runs to stand behind Dod. After a moment she peaked out from behind his arm.
“Nothing” was all that Dod said. Adira nodding to him said, “I am going to have a look inside.”
“That is not a good idea, bond. What if one is still in there?” his concern deep and genuine.
“Nonsense, they would have come out if there had been any left in there and what do you propose? You going in?” she snicker looking up at the giant of a man, his skin a black as night.
Dod bristled a bit and lowered his head and spear, then followed her to the entrance. Getting down on her hands and knees, she crawled through the tight opening into the mouth of the burrow. She reached out to take the torch she had tossed inside and held it up as much as she could to look around. All signs of the wild tarsk that were there were gone. Withdrawing from the burrows with Dod’s help, him practically lifting her from her feet. She brushes the debris from her kirtle.
As the pair head back to the Aett, Adira turns to Dod , “Will you let the Jarl know that we believe that wild tarsk are gone. I am not sure if he will be happy that the nuisance is gone or he will wish them to return as they were good hunting.” Dod gave her a nod and trotted off to find the Jarl.
Adira rises before the sun and makes her way to the kitchen. From the smell of the fresh gruel, she knows that Nara has beat her to the fields this morning. She pulls the empty pails from under the shelf and grabs the yoke propped in the corner. Hooking the pails on the dangling hooks on either side, she hoists it easily onto her shoulders and makes her way to the bosks in the field.
She arrives at the pen to see Nara gathering the grain and placing it in the feeders. The lumbering bosks slowly making their way to the trothes to eat, their huge jaws scooping up the grain and chewing it slowly. Good, she thought, will make milking so much easier if they are distracted with food. She pushes her way past the noisy and obnoxious tarsks that have become way too domesticated for Adira’s liking. They pushed at her with slimmy noses trying to get her attention for food and whatever she carried in the pails.
“Not for you, you foul beasts!” she hollers at them, brushing the slime and dirt that they left on her legs. “Ick! Nara, how can you stand these things?” she makes her way to the first female bosk. Touching her lightly on the haunches to let her know she is there and talking gently to her. “There you go girl. Nothing to be skidish about. ” She rubbed and patted as she sank to her knees and pulled one of the pails under the cows udders. She rubs her hands together to take the chill from them before grabbing the old girls teets. This she had learned that hard way when she was kicked by the first bosk she tried to milk. Gently wrapped her hands about the udders, she began to slowly pull and squeeze, having to do it a couple of times before the warm stream hit the bottom of the pail. With consistent and rhythmic motions, Adira drains the udders of the cow when humming a tune that her father used to sing to her. She gathers up the pail, giving the old bosk hug and a small larma before moving to the next one. Out of the three grown females one the two could be milked for Nara had the third on the ground, birthing the cows first brood.
After gathering all of the milk from the Bosks, hoists the yoke with the full pails on her shoulders and takes it back to the hall to pour the contents into the large vats in the cold storage. Rinsing the pails in the creek, she again takes the yoke about her shoulders and heads to the Verr at the base of the mountain taking the route that will take her the furthermost from the wild tarsk burrows. Cresting the hill where the herd was, Adira plopped the buckets on the hillside and begin her work. She loved the gentle Verr. For all they were wild, they were playful and gentle creatures and the young were like pets sometimes. She scratched behind their ears and ruffled the coats of the males who gave her a contemptuous look. She set about milking all of the females except for the couple that had recently birthed as she would have had to compete with the eager mouths of the babies. She noted that a few of the males coats were getting long enough to shear. She would send one of the others back up here to shear them. Gathering the over full pails again on her shoulders, she made her way painfully slowly so as not to spill the pails back to the Aett to store the milk.
Adira finished her chores early in the evening, the sun still high enough to warm the waters of the creek. All of the girls where off finishing their chores and the Jarl was busy with the business of the Aett. Adira had hung the last of the laundry on the line moments before. She looked down as realized how filthy the days work had made her. Slipping out of her kirtle she walks to the waters edge and dives in. The crisp cold water that flowed from the mountain springs mixed with the warmer water of the inlet but still took her breath away. She rose to the surface and swam out away from the shore a bit seeking warmer water. She hovered there treading water as she looked at the mountains beyond marveling at their beauty. Flipping over onto her back she stared up at the sky with its hues of oranges and purple as the sun was sinking towards the horizon.
Her thoughts drifting towards her life, towards the comments made by a distraught Nara over what she saw to be an unfair world. She wondered what sort of world had Nara, Skye and Snow all come from to feel the way they felt about being collared. Adira had always feared it because her father had feared it for her. But all women on Gor knew that being free from the collar your whole life was something that was not practical for anyone save the women that were fiercely protected behind the high cylinders of the southern cities, and then, what were they but prisoners in their own homes. Yes, she wore Bjorn’s collar of steel about her neck. Yes, she had to work hard on the Aett and harder to please him. But she was free, free from the need to conceal her body. Something that she was keenly aware of at the moment as the water lapped over her naked form. She was free to walk the markets without fear for she wore a collar that told others that she belonged to the Jarl Hammerhand of the Aett of Ursa. They would not dare touch her or steal her without his wrath. Granted, her Jarl was a good man and a kind Jarl. He never punished his girls out of anger. He was good to them all. He treasured them. As a free women, who had treasured her? She was liked for her skills as a brewer but who would have come to her rescue had she been taken by the Kur or a raiding party? No one.
Yes, she was more free now then she ever was as a free women of Torvaldsland. She understood by the look in her Jarl’s eyes when he looked at her that he was smitten with her and had taken her to protect her from others who would not value her as he did. She could not nor would not complain. She was happy even it meant not bearing the man she loved the sons he desired. She rolled over and dove down into the water, scrubbing the dirt and grime from her hair and body as she did so, the cold water refreshing her for the evening chores.
Adira rises from her furs early and slips into her kirtle. The air in the hall is chilly as she makes her way down to the hall below, bare feet padding across the rough wood flooring. Once down the ladder, she pokes at the embers still warm from the night below. Adding some wood and dried dung to the pit, she stokes up the fire slowly warming the room about her. She pulls on a coverlet to warm her body as she waits standing by the growing fire. Satisfied with her work, she moves to the kitchen and begins to make several pots of gruel for the morning meal for the girls placing the flour meal and water in a pot. She chops some larmas and adds them to the pot with some spices attempting to flavor the bland porridge. Scooping out a bowl for herself she eats it quickly and set about the task of spinning the huge amounts of wool that they had gathered into thread for the loom. She gathers up the carded wool, pulling it into small lengths, piecing it together then wrapping it about the loom wheel to get her started. Once enough was added, she begins to work the peddle of the loom, spinning the wheel, holding the wool as it twisted into thread, adding pieces little by little until the entire basket of wool was gone. She examined her work. The thickness was consistent and fine. Pleased with her craftsmanship, she carefully removes the thread from the loom rolling it into a ball and placing it in the thread basket to await it turn on the weaving loom. She sits back down at the wheel with a sigh, looking at the other 20 baskets that need to be spun and begins to work again.