"Hello folks, and welcome to the annual Cerenis sandcastle building contest! This year is going to be better than ever, as the skies are clear, the sand is golden, and the prize smells extremely tasty... As ever, what magical ability this fabulous pie will grant is unknown, but no-one's been disappointed yet! Feel free to work alone or in pairs as you construct the best sandcastles this coast has ever seen! Do you think you have what it takes? The contest starts in ten minutes, so find your places and partners now!"
Donald Barclay, the main organiser of the sandcastle building contest, started off the competition with his typical inspiring speech. He was right - it was a wonderful day, with blue skies and bluer seas, and perfect sand to build from. Unlike last year, when it had tipped it down, and some unfortunate's sandcastle had been struck by lightning. Erik had just been put off his game, too busy trying not to laugh at his competition to work very hard on his castle. Just the sight of people chasing streams of waterlogged sand down the beach as though they could reconstruct it... He hadn't been the only one, and despite it being terrible for the quality of the castles produced, it had been a great year for simply having fun. This year though, this year his castle was going to be beyond anything they'd ever seen... With any luck, and to have that, he'd need a good spot. Some people tried to build too far from the sea, and found the sand too dry, others tried to build too close and ended up with waterlogged heaps, but he was an expert at this. He was looking forward to seeing all of the end results; even if he didn't win, he'd still get to paint a picture of the scene.
After a minute of thought, he set off running, suddenly remembering that he was meant to be finding a good spot. The beach was fairly packed, but no-one minded how far down you went, and most people here weren't seriously competitive. Erik already had a good spot in mind, and he threw himself down on it as he approached, even though it wasn't exactly hotly contested. He grinned as he saw the long line of wrecked sand in his wake. It was helpful, really, letting others see what consistency the sand was where they were going to build. Despite being surrounded by people, Erik was in good spirits, fully prepared to enjoy himself as he had done every year since he was seven. Of course, this year (like all the years) was going to be different! He was going to win! Or at least make an impression, he'd almost rather not win, as he'd seen some impossible looking castles before, and it would be sad if his offering was the best they had. He absolutely couldn't wait to see who had turned up this year, and who he'd be working near. This probably made up a good part of an entire year's social interaction for him, after all. Larry said he'd grow out of his awkwardness, which was good, as he was seriously considering relocating to the middle of nowhere.
Having found his spot with about seven minutes to spare, he pulled himself up to sit cross-legged on the beach, already coated with sand, and grinned around him as others took their places. He was tempted for a second to yell that this was a good distance to be from the sea, but that would be cheating, and would make everything more cramped than ever. He'd spaced his three buckets, two spades, thing-he-wasn't-sure-of-the-name-of-that-was-used-for-plastering, and biscuit cutters in a wide ring around him to indicate where he was building his castle. He'd have a moat there later, if he could find space for a channel for it. Maybe he could co-operate with those nearby when building his moat, so they all shared a channel from the sea which split to join everyone's separate moats?