General Chat

Oh No - The fair Maid is drinking far too deeply of this potion, someone take it off her please. And get those flagons of whisky away from that moose, his antlers are all bent now. Do I have to do EVERYTHING around here?

Allan has been supping the Friar's cider all evening and is now totally distraught at the wanton vandalism wrought on his valued staff, which had been passed down to him from his 27 x great grandfather. He flings his arms around the mooses neck and surruptitiously secretes one of the flagons of wine about his person. He whispers in the mooses ear. 'Willy is a bigger fool than I took him for. He actually thinks there is a plan. Yet I have a fondness for the lad and wouldst not see him come to harm. Perchance we could make a mass raid on these other land from whence we have been banished, leaving signs on trees to indicate to our would-be followers the whereabouts of our present camp. 'Twould have to be done with great subtlety and care, methinks'.

** Drinking deeply of Mrs Merlin's potion ** ** deeply ** ** deeply **

You do not need my permission Scarlett. You may do as you please. But a word of caution. I know something of the land to which you refer. It is close to the land I recently left, and administered in the same way. You may find yourself juggling a sword above your head.

Hopeful that even the hungriest outlaw will not eat green meat, the Moose ventures forth. Two wineskins of best turnip whisky dangle from her antlers.

ooooh, Willy, you don't 'arf like living dangerously!

Mrs Merlin taps Maid Joy (none too gently, as that lisp was REALLY annoying her) on the shoulder with her wand and says. Drink deeply of my potion, and thou shall sleep, but whense thou awakens, thou will be the newest recruit of Robin and his merry band of various misfits.

There are no titled men here Scarlet, speak freely. But make it quick, for I must be away soonest.

'Ah Willy,' says Allan, munching on his chunk of boar and eyeing up the pink moose with an eye for tomorrows breakfast 'I fear that our Lord is having a spot of trouble at the present time. Ever one for progress and innovation, he is attempting to devise a cunning plan whereby messages can be passed swiftly from outlaw to outlaw around the forest. Regretfully, no matter how hard he ties the vellum onto the arrow, it keeps falling off' 'Willy' yells Allan, affronted, 'what have you done to my staff? That was cut from an ancient corkscrew willow and was almost priceless - you've straightened it. Foolish, foolish boy'.

The Moose peeps out cautiously again. She knows that Robin shoots straight and true, always on the side of good. But that deer and the boar and that poor little frog have all been slaughtered. Is no one in the Forest veggie?

Robin, Scarlett Willy said he had an idea that ''we may be known as the Good Company (GC)''. Well, I subscribed to GC last year, so may I join, please? I mean prithee? :-) Joy

Allan, who all this time has been dozing quietly behind a bush and dreaming of the wonderful time his descendants are going to have when they try to trace him on the 1301 census, leaps to his feet at the arrival of his Lord and bellows at Scarlett Willy. 'Stop lifting that maids petticoats and see to the dinner' You just can't get the staff these days.

Alone again on her broomstick, the Witch cackles insanely to herself - another fearless visit to the Land of the IGILDS has uncovered a relly who married at the grand old age of 125.She truly wonders if it is worth the risk. Leaning forward, she picks hungrily at the roasting boar. It is succulent and tasty and melts in her mouth, leaving a strange pinkish/magenta stain on her lips... Has anyone actually SEEN the Moose lately.... M.

Puff of pink smoke - Stepping carefully through all the empty beercans, cider flagons, ripped tights and spent arrows, Mrs Merlin wonders what on earth has been happening during her absence. An ugly green billious frog hops out from behind a large (empty) moneybag. Mrs Merlin swats him with her wand, and pops him into her cauldron of tears. 'Just the ingredient I need' she mutters,' for a brew of the strongest kind.' Green clouds appear, above the pot, and a croaky voice can be heard as if from far away............ 'Sorry - to everyone Ive upset, I was only obeying orders from above, King John is really..........' Mrs Merlin thoughtfully stirs, her potion

My God! So much smoke. Can see nothing. Has Gisburn and his men found our hideaway and put my friends to flight, or is someone being over generous with the cooking time for the dinner?

Enter witch stage left and briskly fetches the Sherriff of Grottingham one with her broomstick. Dont we have enough trouble with your sort in the future, she yells and with a lithe twitch of the wand turns him into a bilious green frog. The witch has been long delayed in the land of IGI, seeking her ancestors who had a spell cast upon them many aeons ago by a malefactor, causing them to become invisible. She has wrested womanfully with the dreaded Page Turn, the No Results double bluff and the frankly cowardly This Page Cannot Be Displayed. But the witch prevailed and found her ancestors, pratting about in the Forest of Rossendale would you believe. She had to kill one or two surplus rellies off and therefore it is her great pleasure to offer a prize for the forthcoming Tournament - he who wins the tourney shall be dubbed Greave of Rossendale Forest, and shall henceforth be able to collect fallen wood for firewood and so shall the Heirs and successors of his bodie in perpetuity. Gentlemen, prepare your mounts - Ladies, present your favourite Knight with your colours. Let the Tournament begin! M.

The lost lass jumps up. Feeling concern for Scarlett Willy she follows him towards the river. Smiling shyly, she offers the hem of her petticoat with which to bath his eyes. He accepts the delicate lawn fabric with a gallant bow, and doffs his feathered cap in the maidens direction.

Anyone here by the name of Robin of Luxley? It appears he has forgotten to pay his horse tax/ beer tax/ community tax and clothing tax. I am here to collect the money owed to Good King John. Did you lot apply for planning permission, to erect this barbecue?

Tire Fruck sorry Friar Tuck( i knew i would have probs with that one) i hope that is Somerset cider you re supping and whats this a bout an off licence? ye can only get the real stuff from the farm

The lost lass sits down beside the Friar, amazed to find another from a land so far away. Accepting a bite to eat, she quietly surveyed her surroundings, and listens to the friendly banter of her new companions.