Castle Mudcat

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Big Mick
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 11:59 AM

The dun was white-walled, with colored thatching on the roof. The men entered it to seek hospitality and found no one there -- only a great, empty hall with pillars of cedar-wood and silken hangings like the hall of a wealthy lord. There was a table set with a sumptuous feast of boar's flesh and venison, red wine, and cups of gold and silver. So they sat down and ate and drank gaily until one of them jumped up to his feet with a cry of fear. The others looked around and saw before their eyes the tapestried walls changing to rough wooden beams and the ceiling to a foul, sooty thatch like that of a herdsman's hut. So they knew they were being entrapped by some enchantment of the Sidhe (the fairy folk).

Everyone sprang to their feet and ran to the door, which was no longer high and stately, but was shrinking to the size of a fox warren. However, Conan the Banld remained; gluttonously devouring the good things on the table, and heeded nothing else. His colleagues shouted to him as the last of them went out. When Conan strove to rise and follow, he found himself limed to the chair so that he could not stir. Two of the Fianna, seeing his plight, rushed back and seized his arms and tugged with all their might. As the men dragged him away they left part of his clothing and his skin sticking to the chair. Then, not knowing what else to do with him in his sore plight, they clapped upon his back the nearest thing they could find, which was the skin of a black sheep that they took from a peasants's flock nearby. The skin grew there and Conan wore it till his death.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Jeri
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 12:50 PM

Wool, I guess ewe could say, he probably lived out his life in shear terror...(sorry-love the stories)

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Clifton53
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 01:01 PM

What Ho! Sir Clifton de Joisey demandeth one of them thar "rare sugared dates".

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird)
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 01:08 PM

(awakes in one of the rooms in the musicians' practice-suite) Mmphf! What time is it ? Is it day or night ? Time seems to pass strangely in this house.

Matilda ? Are you still there, ghostly lass ? Ah! I can just barely hear your voice in my mind, but I can't see you anymore.

I wonder what's going on outside. Or, is "outside" even a valid concept in this eldritch place ?

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 02:34 PM

**Stepping out of character** Big Mick, I LOVE those old tales...also I like Tuatha De Dannan stories too. Balor of the Evil Eye, The Battle of the White Strand are some of my favorites. I like cool characters like Lughaid's Son, Caoilte, Oisin, Osgar, Diarmuid and THE DAGDA RULES! So tell us more! BTW just to blow me own bagpipes, I just finished my semester at ECU on Wednesday. It's my seventh straight semester of straight A's. **Stepping back into character** Aye, dost thou know of the one about Gavrin (I forget how to spell it in Gaelic!) and his cow?

--Mbo

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 05:01 PM

*stepping out of character* Congratulations, Mbo! *back in character* Milord Mick, I am once again fascinated! I shall surely set forth to learn more of the storytelling you do so well. Many thanks to you for sharing your knowledge. If anyone is still interested, I shall try a bit of a practice with the Tale of the Ghost of Castle Mudcat.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 05:23 PM

Many thanks for the laud! Continue at tht leisure, dear Lady. The porchers of mine ears lie at wait for the sound of thy words!

--Mbo Rua

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Big Mick
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 05:33 PM

Please, Lady Caitrin, we await on baited breath your telling of the Ghost of Mudcat Castle. And then I shall speak of brave Cucúlin..........Come FAIR ONE, rest your tiny, cold feet against me that they may warm, and let us hear Lady Caitrin tell the tale of the Ghost of this fine place................

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From:
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 05:39 PM

TAIN BO! TAIN BO!

--Mbo

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 09:47 PM

The tale of the ghost of Castle Mudcat begins long ago, when Castle Mudcat was first built, by a man called Ian.
Ian was a knight, a brave warrior who had made his fortune in the lists and at war. After spending several years traveling to tournaments, he finally raised enough coin to marry his love, Lady Elinor.
Elinor was a beautiful maid, with fair skin and hair the colour of autumn leaves, and eyes of pure silver. She was known not only for her beauty, though, but for her kindness. Her most marvellous trait, however, was a wonderful voice. She sang all the day, her songs rising from both her work and play. The servants would stop at their work to hear her sing; the knights in the tilting yard would pause to listen. It was said that even animals in the forests would come close just to hear her voice. Her Ian was first enchanted by her voice, and soon came to know that her soul was as pure and wondrous as her songs. Elinor waited faithfully for Ian's return from seeking his fortune, and was overjoyed to receive the news that he was at last coming home. The rest of the castle rejoiced as well, pleased to see that their lady would soon be married.
What Elinor did not know was that others were not so wishful for her happiness.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 09:54 PM

Alack-a-day! Treachery, treachery, I fear!

--Mbo Rua

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 10:00 PM

Sir Ian rode through the woods (the same woods you all walked through to reach this place, though they were larger then), making his way toward the site where he would build his lady's house. Ian had grand plans for a castle that would be both protection and home, a beautiful and mighty fortress. He sang a merry song as he rode, knowing he would soon see his love.
Foul news reached Ian's ears when he arrived at the fair Elinor's manor. She had been kidnapped! No one seemed to know where she had gone; she had last been seen in the gardens, but none had seen her since. Ian searched the area surrounding the manor, praying to find some sign of her. All he found was one of her silver hair ribbons, clinging to a tree branch in the woods.
Meanwhile, Lady Elinor was being held captive by the evil Lord Egbert DeTraci. He was a hideous fiend, black to the core of his being. Lord Egbert was the most treacherous, disgusting, loathsome creature ever to walk the face of the earth. His finest claims to fame were the despoiling of innocents and cruelty to animals. Lord Egbert had kidnapped Lady Elinor purely from spite, for he hated to see anyone feel any measure of joy. However, he soon grew bored with merely having the fair maid held miserably in his manor. He decided it was time to taunt Sir Ian.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 10:45 PM

Sir Ian paced the floors of the manor's great hall. He knew not what to do. he hadn't even an idea of where to look for Lady Elinor. He was certain she was alive; he would know if she were dead. But there was no sign of her anywhere about the manor!
Just as these melancholy thoughts were plaguing Sir Ian, a messenger in black livery arrived at the manor gates. "A message for Sir Ian." said he. "Your Lady is held at Riven Manor; if you wish to see her alive again, you must fetch her yourself. Do not bring any knights with you, or it shall surely go hard with Lady Elinor." Sir Ian was taken with a fearsome rage. He would retrieve his lady from that dog, and Egbert deTraci would rue the day he had been born.
Sir Ian immediately set forth, riding at breakneck pace for Riven Manor. He arrived within a few hours, both knight and horse exhausted. But Ian thought not at all of his tired body; his mind was only for the safe retrieval of Lady Elinor. Sir Ian ran for the massive gates of Riven Manor; strangely,they were immediately opened to him.
Egbert DeTraci was sitting smugly in the great hall. And there, seated by his side, was Lady Elinor. Sir Egbert was whispering something to her, his hand upon her shoulder. "You will return her to me now, you swine!", Sir Ian said menacingly.
"If you ask the lady, Sir Ian, I believe you will find that she does not wish to join you.", Egbert said. "'Tis true, Ian.", Elinor said. "I have no want of you any longer. Egbert is more to my taste. What would I want with a poor knight when I could have a lord?" Sir Ian stared at her in numb shock. What had happened to the lovely maid he knew? "Go away,Ian. Your time is wasted here."
Sir Ian was certain he had been deceived. Lady Elinor had played him for a fool all along. "Good day, Lady. I wish you joy of your choice.", he said bitterly. He turned on his heel and left Riven, heartbroken.
As he left, Lord Egbert laughed a hearty and evil laugh. "The look on his face!" he cackled gleefully. "How marvelous!"
Lady Elinor glared at him. "You are the most hideous of fiends! You are not fit to lick the bottom of Sir Ian's boots! You shall rot in the blackest pit of hell!" Lord Egbert's laughter ceased. He began to smile, the grin of Satan himself. "Ah," he said, "but my fun has just begun. What did you think, that I would let you go? You shall remain here until I grow tired of you." Elinor merely stared determinedly at him. "You cannot win this battle of wills, Elinor. Guards, take her to my chamber!"

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 17 Dec 99 - 11:23 PM

If someone would be so kind as to fetch some cider...my throat, 'tis quite parched from the telling of so long a tale. (And pray, take my apologies if it has run over long...I am but a novice at this art, and my telling is without practice.) But fear not, the conclusion of my tale has come...
Lady Elinor sat in the chamber for a long time. Her brave front collapsed, and the fine lady sat and wept like a babe. She had crushed the heart of her one true love, and now sat in the chamber of her enemy, facing the prospect of being his toy until he was bored with her. And the powers only know what might happen to her then. Elinor contemplated her situation. She would never see her love again, and could not live in dishonor. The fair lady walked over to her window and climbed out of it, walking out onto the wide ledge. She stared out into the sky. But as she looked over the land, a change came over her. Elinor had something to do before her time on this earth could end.
Lady Elinor exited the room and quickly dodged the guards, heading for the stairs. She raced down them, and as she reached the great hall, she grabbed a sword from the wall. Elinor had no idea what strength came to her to do this deed, but come it did. She raised the mighty sword and struck down the drunken evil Lord Egbert before he could even turn about to face her.
At that moment, the guards caught up with her. She was captured quickly, and instantly killed. Elinor died knowing she had revenged herself. But she still had unfinished business. She believed her knight still thought her false.
The story of the brave Lady Elinor's deed spread far and wide, reaching all the way to Sir Ian. He was grief stricken when he realized that he had believed her words, knowing what type of woman she was. He built Castle Mudcat, the home they had planned to share, as her memorial. Those lovely music rooms off to the side of this one were built for her. But Ian could never bring himself to live in the house he had dreamed of sharing with the woman he believed he had betrayed.
Soon after Castle Mudcat's completion, people claimed to hear a beautiful, melancholy song down the halls of Castle Mudcat. Then a few servants said they saw Lady Elinor wandering the castle. She appeared to be looking for someone, they said. Elinor's also been spotted in the music rooms in more recent times, always singing her sad, sad, song, trying to find her Ian.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 10:27 AM

That was a right good tale thou told, Lady Caitrin. Alas for poor Elinor. Dost thou think she would enjoy a lay or a burden, while she haunts the corridoors and halls in her winding sheet?

--Mbo Rua

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Jeri
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 10:49 AM

If Catspaw were around, you'd be in trouble, Mbo. On with it, man - haven't heard a good lay in ages.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 11:44 AM

Don't put thy mind in the midden, Lady Jeri. Here be a good lay that I learned from the author, a Sir Ronald Tolkien of Northmoor.

An Elven-made there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
A light was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lórien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf on linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.

The elven-ship in haven grey
Beneath the mountain-lee
Awaited her for many a day
Beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Norhtern lands
Arose and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.

Of old he was an Elven-king,
A lord of tree and glen,
When golden were the boughs in spring
In fair Lothlórien.

From helm to see they saw him leap,
As arrow from the string,
And dive into the water deep,
As mew upon the wing.

The wind was in his flowing hair,
The foam about him shone;
Afar they saw him strong and fair
Go riding like a swan.

But from the west has come no word,
And on the Hither Shore
No tidings Elven-folk have heard
Of Amroth evermore.

--Mbo Ruadh

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Ali_UK
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 12:10 PM

Alistair heres the strain of elven poetry floating through the forest, he follows its eldritch path and is suprised by the cyclopean edifice that is Castle Mudcat. As he has wandered in the wilderness for many, many moons, he is overjoyed to once again find his way back to this Camelot, this eldorado, this valley of the blue moon. Many travails has he passed and illness laid him low. But now he knows he is back amongst the warm friendship of good people. He enters through the castle gates and is greeted by the warmth and music of the main hall. He unslings his harmonica and suts by the roaring fire. His face lights up as he sees his old comrade Big Mick...still lusting after the fair but coquettish Alison.

Alistair draws off a mug of nutty brown ale and relaxes once again. Hi everyone.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 12:26 PM

Good day, and how is it with you, Sir Ali? Welcome to the Castle Mudcat. Over yonder is the gentle Lady Caitrin, a shanachie of the highest order, and our Hostess. Dost thou love Elven music? Then let our instruments harmoniously blend as we play "Song of the Pookah" or mayhap "The Faerie's Lament"?

--Mbo Ruadh

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Big Mick
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 12:50 PM

The warrior bard arises to greet his long lost comrade, Alistair of the UK. Then he turns to face the assembled warriors...................I would sing to thee of warriors lost, and friends who stand listening beyond the veil, using the words of an unknown bard, who comes to us only in this song............

In a quiet water'd land, a land of roses,
Stands St. Kieran's city fair:
And the warriors of Erin in their famous generations
Slumber there

There beneath the dewy hillside sleep the noblest
Of the clan of Conn,
Each below his stone with name in branching Ogham
and the sacred knot thereon

There they laid to rest the seven Kings of Tara,
There the sons of Cairbré sleep--
Battle-banners of the Gael, that in Kieran's plain of crosses
Now their final hosting keep.

And in Clonmacnois they laid the men of Teffia,
And right many a lord of Breagh;
Deep the sod above Clan Creidé and Clan Conaill,
Kind in hall and fierce in fray
Many and many a son of Conn, the Hundred-Fighter,
In the red earth lies at rest;
Many a blue eye of Clan Colman the turf covers,
Many a swan-white breast.

Micheál Mhor returns to his seat with she of the icy cold feet, and revels with his old friend, Alistair. THE FAIR ONE bids him to tell the tale of the naming of Cuchúlin. He agrees to do so, but first he must take of the mead with his friends in order that he not seem inhospitable..................

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 01:04 PM

OOH OOH, MICHEAL MHOR! I love that one! I was just telling my family that one! Please, tell us about how Setanta go his name!

--Mbo Ruadh

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird)
Date: 18 Dec 99 - 01:05 PM

Ho, fellows! Is it time for luncheon ? Have we salmon from the deep ?

Matilda, the ghostly saltatrix, has gone somewhere on a ghostly errand, so if you think you see a ghostly presence by my shoulder, it is not she, it is too much drink in yourself!

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 02:12 PM

Is the merrymaking over?

--Mbo Ruadh

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 02:31 PM

It would seem that feasting has tired our company. Perhaps removal to another place is in order?

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 05:06 PM

Well, if everyone is going, my men and I shall take our leave, for we have many miles before us, and glorious conquests unknown await us! Up, Clan Buide Theamhdaigh! Piper, sound the tune "The Theamhdaigh Highlanders Farewell to Castle Mudcat." Claymores sheathed, targes up, and in file...yes, all is in order. My Lady Caitrin, thou hast been a most kind and generous (not to mention entertaining) hostess. May I be so bold as to kiss thy hand? Then, away, my brave boys! Out into the snows, me boys, and until we meet again, my lords and ladies...SLAINTE!!

--Mbo Ruadh

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Willie-O
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 05:31 PM

Well, there's a schooner just lately been sighted heading southeast out of the Bay of Fundy....mayhaps its worth catching...off to sea once more?

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Caitrin
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 06:52 PM

To sea, perchance to dream! Or something like that.

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Mbo
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 06:58 PM

But oh, what dreams may come?

--Mbo Ruadh (**as he nips out the drawbridge**)

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird)
Date: 19 Dec 99 - 07:24 PM

My Lady gives me the impression that I can stay as long as I like, just so I don't get fresh with the wenches and stay out of the castle staff's way as they clear away from the banquet, send for the privy-cleaners, and see to the other chores of shutting up a castle for a time.

I so wanted to play "Lamento di Tristano" on my hurdy-gurdy. I think I'll go up the the musicians' gallery and play it there. Even if there is no one to hear but the two ghosts, Matilda and Elinor, still, I so enjoy playing it...

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Big Mick
Date: 20 Dec 99 - 02:06 AM

The revels came to a stop as one by one the warriors, the ladies, one and all watched as the giant warrior bard rose and stood facing the fire. He was lost in thought as he recalled the old days, and the old ways. Some say he speaks through the veil. He turns and looks at no one, and says "It is a long night, and the veil is thin"....."Aye" they muttered as the old ritual begins. It is almost a litany. Aye, it is a dark night and I feel the presence of our people on the other side.........begging that they be remembered, if only in a story.............................

It chance one day, when Setanta was about seven years, that he heard some of the people of his mother's house talking about King Conchubar's court at Emain Macha, and of the sons of kings and nobles that lived there, and that spent a great part of their time at games and at hurling. "Let me go and play with them there," he said to his mother. "It is too soom for you to do that, " she said, "but wait till such time as you are able to taravel so far, and till I can put in in charge of some one going to the court, that will put you under Conchubar's protection." "It would be too long for me to wait for that," he said, "but I will go there by myself if you will tell me the road." "It is too far for you," said Deichrire, "for it is beyond Slíeve Fuad, Emain Macha is." "Is it east or west of Slíeve Fuad?" he asked. And when she had answered him that, he set out there and then, and nothing with him but his hurling stick, and his silver ball, and his little dart and spear; and to shorten the road for himself he would give a blow to the ball and drive it from him, and then he would throw his hurling stick after it, and the dart after that again, and then he would make a run and catch them all in his hand before one of them would have reached the ground.

So he went on until he came to the lawn at Emain Macha, and there he saw three fifties of king's sons hurling and learning feats of war. He went in amoung them, and when the ball came near him h got it between his feet, and drove it along in spite of them till he had sent it beyond the goal. There was great surprise and anger on them when they saw what he had done, and Follaman, King Conchubar's son, that was chief among them, cried out to them to come together and drive out this stranger and make an end of him. "For he has no right," he said, "to come into our game and without asking leave, and without putting his life under our protection. And you may be sure," he said, "that he is the son of some common fighting man, and it is not for him to come into our game at all." With that they all made an attack on him, and began to throw their hurling sticks at him, and their balls and darts, but he escaped them all, and then he rushed at them, and began to throw some of them to the ground. Fergus came out just then from the palace, and when he saw what a good defence the little lad was making, he brought him in to where Conchubar was playing chess, and told him all that had happened. "this is no gentle game you have been playing," he said. "It is on themselves the fault is," said the boy; "I came as a stranger, and I did not get a strangers welcome." "You did not know then," said Conchubar, "that no one can play among the boy troop of Emain unless he gets their leave and their protection." "I did not know that, or I would have asked it of them," he said. "What is your name and your family?" said Conchubar. "My name is Setanta, son of Sualtim and of Dechtire," he said. When Conchubar knew that he was his sister's son, he gave him a great welcome, and he bade the boy troop to let him go safe among them. "We will do that," they said. But when they weent out to play, Setanta began to break through them and to overthrow them, so that they could not stand against him. "What are you wanting of them now?" said Conchubar. "I swear by the gods my people swear by," said the boy, "I will not lighten my hand of them till they have come under my protection the same way I have come under theirs." Then they all agreed to give in to this; and Setanta stayed in the King's house at Emain Macha, and all the chief men of Ulster had a hand in bringing him up.

There was a great smith in Ulster of the name of Culain, who made a feast at that time for Conchubar and for his people. When Conchubar was setting out to the feast, he passed by the lawn where the boy troop were at their games, and he watched them awhile, and he saw how the son of Dechtire was winning the goal from them all. "That little lad will serve Ulster yet," said Conchubar; "and call him to me now," he said, "and let him come with me to the smith's feast." "I cannot go with you now," said Setanta, when they had called to him,"for these boys have not had enough of play yet." It would be too long for me to wait for you,"said the king. "There is no need for you to wait; I will follow the track of the chariots," said Setanta.

So Conchubar went on to the smith's house, and there was a welcome before him, and fresh rushes were laid down, and there were poems and songs and recitals of laws, and the feast was brought in, and they began to be merry. And then Culain said to the king:"Will there be ny one else of your people coming tonght?" "There will not," said Conchubar, for he forgot that he had told the little lad to follow him. "But why do you ask me that?" he said. "I have a great fierce hound," said the smith, "and when I take the chain off him, he lets no one come int the one districk with himself, and he will obey no one but myself, and he has in him the strength of a hundred." "Loose him out," said Conchubar, "until he keeps a watch on the place." So Cualin loosed him out, and the dog made a course round the whole district, and then he came back to the place were he was used to lie and to watch the house, and every one was in dread of him, he was so fierce and so cruel and so savage.

Now, as to the boys at Emain, when they were done playing, every one went to his father's house, or to whoever was in charge of him. But Setanta set out on the track of the chariots, shortening the way for himself as he was used to do with his hurling stick and his ball. When he came to the lawn before the smith's house, the hound heard him coming, and began such a fierce yelling that he might have been heard through all Ulster, and he sprang at him as if he had a mind not to stop and tear him at all, but to swallow him at one mouthful. The little fellow had no weapon but his stick and his ball, but when he saw the hound coming at him, he struck the ball with such force that it went down his throat, and through his body. Then he seized him by the hind legs and dashed him against a rock until there was no life left in him.

Whe the men feasting within heard the outcry of the hound, Conchubar started up and said: "It is no good luck brought us on this journey, for that is surely my sister's son that was coming after me, and that has got his death by the hound." On that all the men rushed out, not waiting to go through the door, but over walls and barriers as they could. But Fergus was the first to get to where the boy was, and he took him up and lifted him on his shoulder, and brought him in safe and sound to Conchubar, and there was great joy on them all.

But Culain the smith went out with them, and when he saw his great hound lying dead and broken there was great grief in his heart, and he came in and said, to Setanta: "There is no good welcome for you here." "What have you against the lad?" said Conchubar. "It was no good luck that brought him here, or that made me prepare this feast for yourself, King," he said; "for from this out, my hound being gone, my substance will be wasted, and my way of living will be gone astray. And little boy," he said, "that was a good member of my family you took from me, for he was the protector of my goods and my flocks and my herds and of all that I had." "Do not be vexed on account of that," said the boy, "and I myself will make up to you for what I have done." "How will you do that?" said Conchubar. "This is how I will do it: if there is a whelp of the same breed to be had in Ireland, I will rear him and train him until he is as good a hound as the one killed; and until that time, Culain," he said, "I myself will be your watchdog, to guard your goods and your cattle and your house." "You have made a fair offer," said Conchubar. "I would give no better myself," said Cathbar the Druid. "And from this out," he said, "your name will be Cuchailain, the Hound of Culain." "I am better pleased with my own name of Setanta, son of Sualtim," said the boy. "Do not say that," said Cathbad, "for all the men in the whole world will someday have the name of Cuculain in their mouths." "If that is so, I am content to keep it" said the boy. And this is how he came by the name of Cuchulain.

Mícheál Mhor turns away, and stares once again at the fire, lost in his reverie, seeking the approval of the old one's in the telling of the tale, then returns to the side of THE FAIR ONE, she of the tiny icy cold feet...................

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: catspaw49
Date: 20 Dec 99 - 02:40 AM

Well, I just ate half a dozen of Karen's cookies while reading this sucker and I must say its creative although I personally hate this period of history. The only parts that intrigued me were the possibility of fixing up Lady Elinor with the high hard one and gettin' nekkid with Irish Aussie. On the other hand, it was refreshing(?) that Big Mick has the openess and honesty to admit his breath smells like fish bait and that Bert can remember the lamest of old jokes.

Spaw

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Roger ye skiffler
Date: 20 Dec 99 - 04:06 AM

Yes it's your poor cold fool here again
A riddle my masters?
If you get olive oil by pressing olives between two stones, how do you get baby oil?
Yes, I have come from the Neil Young retirement cave for old jokes.
I am cold because they make me sing on the battlements as the sun goes down
They call it Jester song at twilight
I'm great friends with the torturer, when his victims don't respond to the rack he gets me to sing "Puttin' on the Style" to them, works every time.
As a reward he got me two tickets for the Prisoner's Ball. I thought it was a dance, but apparently it's a raffle
If a tinhorn is made of tin, what's a fog horn made of?
Meanwhile, back to the sagas...
RtS

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird)
Date: 20 Dec 99 - 01:16 PM

Farewell, Castle Mudcat. Farewell, Matilda and Elinor. Matilda, I'm glad you'll be visiting Elinor often. I hope the lady Caitrin will allow me to return, for I have enjoyed my stay here, and have hardly begun to learn the ways of this place.

Maybe I can rent a boat and catch up to that schooner...

Subject: RE: Castle Mudcat
From: Okiemockbird
Date: 29 Dec 99 - 11:29 AM

Ho, doorkeeper! I came by to fetch my instruments, which I didn't have room for on my boat-trip.

Convey my compliments to your lady, when she returns.

T.