Being the festive season, a couple of us McYokels and one Yellow Master Mage set out to enjoy the hospitality of Lord Tiamat Genocide ; Hart, Drow-Hater and consummate psychotic. Suffice to say the beer was cheap and the food of the alcoholic variety.

An otherwise peaceful night of inebriation was livened up by a couple of late arrivals, First the wraith of Sir Bedivere turned up to herald the return of his lord, The Pendragon, by possessing one of the Harts incantors. Since it didn’t hurt anyone or try to steal the beer so it was allowed to go on its way.

Later on Joshua McTay - beloved of all Harts since their attempt to kill him at his birthday party - appeared to pay his regards. After much shouting and accusation by both sides Grand Master Floris Brand announced that he was disbanding the colour mage until he has personally investigated the matter.

Overall a good time was had by all ….. except possibly by the former Colour Mages and the late Sir Bedivere…..

"I met Thomas Finn, and wassname the peasant (Harry isn't?) at the parliament. The atmosphere was great, though it was bloody freezing, and a bit dark. Being a bear, I didn't know all the ins and outs of what was going on, but I quickly made my acquaintance with a group known as the Flames of Abraham, whose trial was due to start at the Parliament. But more of that later."

"The evening was spent, eating, drinking and socialising. I met among other people Galan de Lacy, head of the Alchemists guild, and Lysandra, more commonly known as Master Black. A pleasant lady once you get to know her. I also met a group called the Communists. They have funny accents and wear silly furry hats, but other than that seem quite pleasant people."

Dragons Parliament, as written by Jethro/Teppic

How a place changes! It was just less than 6 months ago that members of the clan assisted at the site of a great rift, spewing out undead in Norsca. Although the thought of fighting for hours on end is an attraction, endless zombies and bonies do get boring. They’re so easy to destroy.

The reason for our return. Master White is now in residence, not in the rift, which had been closed, but in a newly constructed tower on the site. Guest of honour, apart from Grand Master Floris Brand of course, was Joshua McTay the Violet mage who was celebrating his birthday. It was a fine tower, maybe not up to the splendour of Master Violets but it is a great deal younger. Anyway, there was a hearty atmosphere around the bar. Well, OK so we were enjoying ourselves, but I’m not so sure about the Wolves. Others in attendance with us were of course the Invincibles, although Willy Forbes was absent, obviously still with a hang over from our Tavern night the week before. Representatives of the House Creotha, who you know as our friends in the Tarantulas, were there, as were Conor Chuchulain, Master Yellow, Mistress Black and a host of other colour mages and faction leaders. Lord Wraith also put in a fine stand at the bar, unfortunately he also fell finely during the fighting outside.

So what else of the evening? The old saying ‘Trouble at Mill’ would hardly be sufficient to describe what would result from the lighting of 3 candles. The actions that followed have been well documented by now and I do not wish to go into details that some will find emotionally taxing. No McYokel was directly involved but some were dangerously close. As Master Violet was getting attacked I forced my shield in front of him, Yargon quickly joined me. The scene if you will, a brick wall in the stairwell leading up from the bar, Master Violet his hands still crackling from the Mage bolt he just fired, two McYokels with shields facing towards a lot of angry looking people. Amongst, these people and perhaps the most aggrieved by the loss of Alexander, was Mistress Black. Now behind her was my son Ash. It was a strange sight to see McYokels on both sides, but I suppose we would be on the side of the victor whatever happened! This was the start of a feud amongst the Colour mages, which has now resulted in the recent actions undertaken by Grand Master Floris Brand. This event caused the stressed atmosphere that was to last the rest of the celebrations. It did not however stop us from our usually medley of some of our favourite songs later on in the evening. I’m sure we made a few more friends that night, but I’m sure there are those wishing for an epidemic of sore throats to hit our camp.

What no fighting I here you cry! Well of course we got to bloody our swords, but this was only on beings brought back by foul magic’s to taint our world. The hoard of undead was spotted advancing towards the tower, word reached us and we joined the growing throng of warriors preparing to meet the foe. As you would expect the majority of the McYokels there featured heavily in the fighting, apart from Denzil who preferred to stay in the bar, Yargon and myself often taking the front rank. But a new aspect of our fighting force has emerged. No longer do we need to shout ‘HEALER’ for our healers are there by our sides, OK just behind us then, ready with there healing magic. We need never worry now with the amount of healing available through our womenfolk, we shall always be able to hold that pint at the end of the day.

Talking of ale it’s about that time to ‘ead off to the Queen’s Arms,

Till we all meet at the Dripping Porker

Nobby McYokel

Your indispensable guide to the various groups at the Gathering.

The groups are rated on their fighting (Claymores), Drinking (Tankards) and Partying (Smileys) prowess. Each category is marked from 1 to 5 : giving a total score of between 3(Lord Corvus) and 15 (Queen Morrigan).

Clan McYokel (Bears)

The all singing, all-dancing celtic horde. Exiled from Caledonia to west of Albion, only to be returned generations later by a freak teleportation accident. Now hanging around bars in southern Caledonia, masquerading as respectable citizens. An otherwise perfect score is sadly let down in drinking department by the disgusting performance of certain individuals (Jethro, Callus).

Claymores = 5 Tankards = 4 Smileys = 5

House Creotha (Tarantulas)

The drow with the tartan. A fine bunch of lads (although some of their womenfolk are less than happy to see us). The mind-flayer and their defection to fight with the Bears in 1095 both do wanders for their Claymore rating, but sadly drow just don’t seem to party in the same way as celts (although they both apparently play twister.

Claymores = 4 Tankards = 3 Smileys = 3

The Old Invincibles (Bears)

Calendonia’s favourite armour wearing girlies. Led as mercenaries from Albion by Lord Wraith, they bring with them novel ideas such as battle tactics, gate guards and compulsory tea drinking. Despite their reliable attendance at almost every party in the continent, sadly they get marked down for the armour and the rumour that some of their number are tea total!

Claymores = 3 Tankards = 2 Smileys = 5

The Wolverines (Harts)

Albion’s noblest thugs, bandits murderers. Dumped on the Caledonian border to keep them away from the rest of the harts, The Wolverines have found (Like the Celts) that fighting and drinking are the best ways to pass the northern winter. Don’t tell them their standard looks like a sheep!

Claymores = 4 Tankards = 3 Smileys = 3

Clan McPooh (Bears)

Caledonian finest. Allegedly hard drinking, although we’re not sure that drinks with names like "Taboo" count. Sadly they avoid combat for fear it might interrupt their partying ….. But then again, if your not in favour of inviting this group of nice Caledonian ladies to a party you are obviously either mental or someone’s girlfriend!

Claymores = 2 Tankards = 4 Smileys = 5

The Raggers (Wolves)

Lord Thorvald’s entourage. Brash and abusive, they seem to spend a shocking about of time getting drunk and singing in a sort of disorganised manor. We can’t of course condone this sort of terrible behaviour but maybe it shows that even some Wolves are worth partying with.

Claymores = 3 Tankards = 4 Smileys = 3

This seasons - or indeed any seasons - hottest item is undoubtedly The Kilt. It cannot fail to impress in any of the various colour schemes currently available (Although this reporter suggests black, white and red on grey will be the combination for the coming year.).

Just over the knees seems to be the length favoured by the Celtic male, with hem lines rising high for the women. Despite such conventions however Kilts have been sighted ranging from mini-skirts (Wertigo) to floor-scraping maxis (unisex).

Both men and women can accessorise there Kilts with a variety of belts and sporrans but, of course, underwear is right out. Some fashion insiders have followed this theme to suggest that phallic adornments maybe a way to spice up an otherwise plain Kilt…. but by all accounts many of the McYokel males are amusing enough sky clad without such measures.

Castle genocide, Naseby

A spacious hall in the upper levels of castle genocide houses Baron Tiamat’s small but perfectly formed bar. The escape convict on the otherwise of the pumps leaves you in doubt that any peasentry trying to gain access will be suitably dealt with. Tables of foods cross the back wall and the staff make a point of showing everyone which cakes are alcoholic.

Although the selection of Ales is very low (no Stout or Cider), so are the prices. This -coupled with restrictions on the carrying of weapons - means a good brawl is on the cards… but watch out for the Barons viscous headbutts.

Popular bar games include "Wraith chasing" and "Taunt the Colour Mage."

We give castle genocide a big 4 claymores out of 5.

The Manky Spider

Well, it’s not often I go drinking in the under dark… but in the interest of journalism (and possibly alcoholism) I suppose we all have to go and make sacrifices. This time I took little Ash with me on my travels since he’s got some good songs about Drow and knows a bit about dodgy dark-elf poisons.

The most noticeable thing about this pub is that we’re the only people in it. Rumour has it that the Drow heard that there were celts in the bar and were afraid to go for a drink in case someone shouted something nasty at them. Mind you, there’s no-one to complain about the singing and with no bar man the beer seems to be free.

The favourite ale here appears to be something called "Drow Courage". Although it tastes worse than Ash’s home-brew, after a few pints you start thinging you are really important and that everyone should be afraid of you (whilst really you’re swaggering around making a pratt of yourself). It also seems to have made my hair go sort of white and bouffant… but Uncle Yargon says he’s got a ritual for that.

We give the manky spider a pitiful 1 claymore (‘cos the beer was free!).

In January the Sea Voyar set sail with a small crew of 76 one of which was our own Dag McYokel, Their Voyage will take them 6 months and we hope them all the best.

This Paper Was Brought to you by Editor McYokel

With Contributions by:

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