General Chat

Enter the Watch, stage left.(A 22 ct gold watch, of course). She cackles fiendishly - ha ha-eth, chortles she-eth, no-one will recognise me NOW! She surveys the strange three-humped creature asleep on the ornately carved love seat and immediately leaps into action, to slay this Awful creature of Myth and Legend - the three-humped camel, an abomination in the sight of nature. 'Avast, me hearties!' she decryeth, lashing it with her watchstrap 'begone! Begone foul fiends, back to where thou belongeth, back on the Tip!' The three-humped camel stirreth not but gentle whistlings and snortings cometh from its hideous three heads. The Watch thinketh it is time to go. M

Scarlett Willy - Not you too! For Goodness Sakes You Lot! There is far too much dreaming and slumbering going on around here (the forest) Im Ready For A Bit Of Action! (Wakey Wakey) We have A Cause!!! (or have thou forgoteneth?) Sue? Jaques? Cha Cha Cha? Joy? Bring It On!! (eth)

oooh merlin ! this ire ening is nasty stuffeth ! it grows at a disturbing rate, and the only thing to quell it - is to beat it to death with hot metal- and stuff it in a wardrobe !lol. only to find, come morn, more mounds of the stuff ! sue [ who is selling an iron on e bay if anyone........]

Puff of...... Lost Lass! Thou is always resting thou head, think its about time,thou stopped all this laziness, and put in a bit more effort, in finding thou lost friends, and returning to the Land of Yips. (Drama Queen) Here - have a silver goblet of my cauldron contents.

Thue! (I mean Sue of course) Wondered wher you be - eth! Have a wee dram of what is in my cauldron - eth! It is very warming! What is this 'Ire ening' that thou dost speaketh of? And would it go down well as an added ingredient in my cauldron? Open to all offers......... (is that nasty witch still here? O she doeth scareth me)

As darkness falls, the lass from Downunder, exhausted from the days happenings in the land of Gen looks for somewhere to rest her weary head...........she spies a cloak thrown carelessy over the oak loveseat, and wonders if the owner would begrudge her the use of it.

someth ofeth useth haveth been flippin' ironing all night , while you lot have been cavortething [?} on the boards- did anyone come to my aid ? NO ! you rotteneth loteth.... now you have made me spiteth all over my keyboard- [must get these teeth fixed !] sue. pithed offeth !!!!

Joy Could you tidy yourself up a bit please, instead of sprawling all over the only bit of greensward that is left?And wipe that silly smirk off your face, its not your dress he is interested in.... Slander is a spoken insulting untruth, libel is a written insulting untruth. (Witch gazes longingly at the starry firmament above her head. She longs to fly, free as a..a..well, witch, to Other Places held in fond and wistful memory, where excommunicants once were Kings (and Queens) of the Board, where merry laughter floated across the balmy air. Actually, she thinks she had better hurriedly stop being a witch, she really doesnt want to be ducked and then burnt alive at the stake. Hm. She will now ponder her new persona before the dawn) M.

** stretches elegantly, looks around, can see no one, lies down again, and sleeps **

Mistress/Lady/Maid Joy of Kent. (puff of pink smoke - nearly forgoteth) Are you asking of me Riddles? Take a (nother) dram of this new concoction I have inventedeth! (Hell Fire - Think Ive caught your lithp) I have been sampling it all evening and am feeling rather pithed. It has - JD Cokee, and Rose Hips - from the Land of Yips! (yes I was there tonight, on my R.H. picking mission!! Shhhhhhhhhhh)

hello, Ms Merlin! sorry about the divorce. My lithp has gone - must have been due to your magic!! the forest is darkening. Methinks (oops, ith back) I shall lie down here on this grassy knoll. [yawn (behind hand) ] ** stretches herself elegantly on the bracken, and drifts into a gentle, dreamless sleep** :-) Joy PS what's the difference between slander and libel?

(Puff of pink smoke) Young Scarlett!! Stop thou matchmaking! (Settles herself on the ornately carved loveseat) As You Can See - Me n Merlin are splitting up! He has gone over to 'The Other Side' And was very angry, because The Witch turned his master, the Sheriff into an ugly green frog. (which I actually thought was an improvement myself) Anyway, I digress, Lady Joy, wherefore art, has thou been? And Allan (me laddo) it was MY potion thats been getting everyone a bit worse for wear! NOT the witches! (I DO wish some folk would read their scripts properly) Ms Merlin, whips out her cauldron, and begins to chant whilst adding various spirited concoctions, from a later century. Well she is a Magician dont forget!

Scarlet Willy ?? !! :-) Joy ** must just nip up to John Trim's to buy some venison **

Many have now settled for the night Will, verdicts elsewhere have them exhausted. I must sleep now too, a difficult day tomorrow.

Oh, Robin, thank you, what a relief. I feel quite protected with you around. To sleep, perchance to dream of a wonderful GC place with no cares [not Neverland though, please!! ]. :-) Joy

M'Lady Joy. You are as impatient as the wind. A light will soon shine, I promise you. Meanwhile rest for the night and dream of more agreeable times ahead.

Thank you, Allan, mmm, that's lovely. I made it all myself. Aren't I clever? Oh GC, which is the way? :-) Joy

'Ah, Fair Maid of Kent,' says Allan, returning from his sojourn by the stream and gazing around the semi-deserted clearing, 'It doth appear the our band of Good Company hath not yet returned from their daily tasks of righting wrongs; hunting down those that bear false witness to the evil Sheriff and all enemies of our great and noble true King, Richard Coeur de Lyon; and shooting a couple of deer for tea. Come, Fair Maid, have a cooling draught of this delicious ale and tell me who your dressmaker is, I have seldom seen such exquisite stitchery in all my travels'.

Will some kind knight, or anyone else, show me the way to GC, please? :-) Joy

Allan A’Dale crawls out from under the bush where he has been sleeping since the previous night’s revelries. The inside of his mouth feels like a cat’s bed. He recalls that he has learned before that he has no head for strong drink. Shame he did not remember this earlier. Looking around, he spies Robin resting against a tree, yet watchful as ever. A lost lass sits sadly gazing at a pair of scarlet knickers trimmed with white lace. The fabric is very fine and delicate – Allan has seldom seen anything so exquisite. Beside her stands the Maid of Kent, dusting herself down in a very irritated way and looking distinctly dishevelled. Where was she the previous night? Allan seems to recall that she drank some of the witch’s potion and disappeared. That witch has a lot to answer for. Allan turns his head rather too swiftly and immediately regrets it. Round and round in front of his eyes fly tiny winged green frogs, pink mooses and a purple cat. What on earth was that wine made from? Swallowing bravely, he opens his eyes again and stands up. His hose feel very hot around his legs, and are inclined to wrinkle when he sits down. He wishes he could change into something more comfortable – but alas, that cannot be. Having donned this disguise when he fled for his life, Allan now must perforce continue with the charade. He wanders slowly off to the stream, looking for a cooling drink and a place to ponder quietly.