As per usual the Bears arrived in good fashion to the Violet Mages B’day with all of them singing to the Caledonia nation anthem, if I remember correctly. The first place that was visited when they all got in was the bar, as it is known that the Bears like a wee brew or two….. Some time later people outside started shouting about creatures that seemed to be attacking anyone. Some of the Bears decided to investigate.

On investigation it was found that some undead from unknown origin were attacking, I witnessed first hand their attacks & managed to get just out of its reach before it was taken down. On this unliving creature a pouch was discovered containing a small pyramid shaped object, which was later discovered to be magical.

The next few hours contained several more attacks by undead and these blue demon creatures, which later we found were invited by Joshua to attend, however they attacked us before anything else and therefore we protected ourselves. During this time another two small pyramids were discovered.

The next important thing to happen was that Teran McYokel, while searching for Yargon, discovered 3 larger pyramid shapes in the field outside the tavern and quickly returned to the bar to get anyone to help.

All attempts to use or activate the 3 larger pyramids failed. Even invoking the 3 small ones near the large ones did nothing. However after the attempts undead started appearing from this triangle shaped thing. While battling these thing it was found that the pyramids were Necromantically magical & in the end a really ‘ard creature came out. The incantors decided that a wedge was needed. On seeing the wedge slowly forming the creature turned and ran back into the triangle and disappeared.

The incantors then turned their attention to the triangle. The three smaller pyramids were placed in the triangle & with Teran at the front of the incantors wedge, the triangle was destroyed. After all the action in the field everyone returned to the bar, where I conferred with another reporter and he told ye that he had spotted earlier in the evening Donald McTottie and Craggy up to their old tricks of chatting up the bar maid….. for more ale…. They didnae deny it !

After that it went a bit quiet & everybody went ta bed apart from Teran, a few Wolves and a hart or two… which he proceeded to try and drink into the ground… he actually managed to stay awake longer than they but only by a few minutes….

Since the Gasherim Tomato People raised all of their deed creatures you may have heard that they’re heading toward Pitlochy and the royal province. Our armies are moving North as ye speaks and if they meet this army o’ undead goblins and the tomato people have no offered a satifactory explaination as to their actions (not that there is one as far as I can see) then there will be another battle around Pitlochy and the tomato people will die. That is what I promise as a wee yuletide gift, sure, you have to Reep do something tae keep warm……

After that, the armies will garrison the towns or disperse to their homes for the winter. Unlest we think o’ some other sport. Hunting the Clan McEwan would be a good sport. By the way, so there’s now a reward on their heeds. 10 Highland cattle and a barrel o’ whiskey to the "one" who brings their heeds and their kilts to me… (I see Craggy thinks one will be a match for the McEwans, I second that – Ed).

As for the VI events, weel we had a drink and insulted people at the OGC & of violets B’day we had "drinks" and insulted a few less (More ya meen !!– Ed) people as a birthday present to Joshua McTay.

I also asked why he didnae stop the tomato people from raising the dead outside o’ his tower.

To which he said, "would you like a violet?", referring to his box o’ sweets, so no clearer there. No matter we’ll deal with it oorsel’s. So ha’e a merry yuletide & a fine hogmany…

NAME – Craggle FinHorn McFinn McYokel McGregor (Craggy!)

PERSONAL DETAILS - Brother of Walfinear McFinn. All Caladonian. As a ya like !

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES – Beard (Recently modified! - Teran), War Bonnet, Very Posh Sword.

OCCUPATION - Chief o’ the McGregors, War Chieftain of Caledonia.

MOST LIKELY TO SAY – Wheres the Beer ? or Hello ya Big Poof !!!

LEAST LIKELY TO SAY– Let me buy ya a pint !

FAVOURITE COLOUR - That nice golden colour you get when you look into the bottom of ye nice pint o’ Ale.

FAVOURITE THINGS - Ordering people uboot, visiting the Dragons (Poofs) and drinking all their beer …. Oh, and twatting other armies !

LEAST FAVOURITE THINGS - Tiptappy poofy Unicorn Swordspoofs, Bad singers + Lions (One and the same really!!).

WOULD MOST LIKE TO SHARE A DESERT ISLAND WITH ... Mavis McPooh !

WOULD LEAST LIKE TO SHARE A DESERT ISLAND WITH ... Tea total religious magic using ejuts !

LEAST ENDEARING QUALITY – None (By Order Teran).

HOBBIES – War, Drink, Buying nice swords, Building nice Castles & considering invading other lands!

‘Allo Reader’s

Percy Throwup McYokel here with this months helpful hints for the garden.

Yargon gave me a very good piece of advice ealier on – Always look after yer tool. He’s very right you know… Keep that spade sjarp so that it cuts through that tough earth properly. Of course it also serves to stave in the heads of Harts that think they can invade yer veggie patch. The other

important tool in the gardeners armoury is the mallet. Just recently I’ve had no end of trouble with Droo popping up carrots (Not you carrot –Ed). If you have this problem, just whack ‘em on the ‘ead and sling’em in the compost heap. In six months they’ll really help yer tatties along…. And they’re smell better as well.

One last handy tip. No keen gardener should be adverse to a bit of corpse robbing. If you look carefully you might be licky enough to find a helmet or two. These little beauties can be found on most common battfields and look lovely with a few choice blooms arranged in them. Now you can collect straight after the battle when they’re still warm, but if you wait a few weeks you’ll find those difficult to remove heads will simply slip out leaving only the ears and noses to clean of the insides.

Dear Mr Throwup,

I’m having trouble with that age old problen – Bears on the Lawn. No matter how many knights I put in my garden I can’t get rid of them. It really is very frustrating as they keep slaughtering us during afternoon tea. Any suggestions ?

I’m afraid there’s no cure for this one. You see, no matter how many knights you send in, the big wimps run as soon as any Celt over three years old picks up a sword. They need training a bit better…. perhaps water aerobics might help, mind you they’d sink. Lose the armour…not the helmets though.

One idea that might help is to STOP INVADING SMALL VILLAGES, OUR ANCESTRAL HUNTING GROUNDS AND ANYWHERE ELSE THAT THERE AIN’T TOO MANY (i.e. MORE THAN 2) BEARS AROUND YA PONCY ENGLISH BINT !!!

I hope that answered your query. Anyway that’s all for now …. Till next time

GET ORF MOI BRACKEN!!!

This is the second installment of that interview, last installment will be in the next edition of the Bull.

Given that you are now the Ambassador for Maar the Faceless how much allegiance if any do you have for the Celtic Goddesses?

I do not venerate the Ancestors, nor did I ever do so in life. The Witch handled the spiritual concerns of The Old Invincibles, and I was grateful for that. I did not share their concerns, I did not take part in her rituals, and I was no part of her worship of the cycle of life. I suspect she would not have wanted me to bend my knee to her powers, nor would I have done so if she commanded it. I have no Ancestors.

I am not a Celt, I was born in Preston in Northern Albion. I do not hold any feelings of any kind for their Ancestral spirits, nor did I ever, even when a member of the Bears. I do feel a debt of gratitude towards the spirit of the Blodwyn who has tried to help and protect me, even against her own worshippers feelings.

Equally I am not a Bear, though once I did serve that cause, now I take another hire. I have no feelings for Queen McBeth.

Who killed the living Thomas Finn?

The last thing I recall was an enormous ball of fire filling my vision. It was difficult to make out anything else beyond that. However it seems obvious it must have been the Unicorns, and I have some dim recollection of seeing a member of the Unicorns nearby, moments earlier.

I clearly recall, Manthar had already attacked me earlier on the battlefield after I slew two Goblins who were attacking him. His words then leave me in little doubt who must have been the ones who killed me.

No, none. Yargon McYokel spoke to me after I had been slain and at the Queens request asked me if I wanted vengeance. I replied that I did not, and the Morrigan commented that maybe I did not, but she did.

I have spoken with the Unicorns and some of their faction have offered to sell me the information on who slew me, but I politely turned it down. I am, what I always was, a mercenary. All things in life have a price to pay, vengeance is dear, but so also is the food we eat. Those who buy the satisfaction of another's blood, may find they leave themselves short of enough coin to fill their belly. Vengeance is the prerogative of those who are born rich enough to consider it worth buying, the choice of those foolish enough to think it worth owning.

My father taught me that a professional soldier is a man who must gamble his life every day to earn the coin that feeds him. He cannot afford to hate or to love, he cannot afford courage or cowardice, nor honour or self worth, because most of all he cannot afford to lose.

No mercenary can afford the luxury of hating those who fight against them.

I told Chief Roo McPooh to march on Rockholme knowing the risks I took and accepting them. I took the Morrigan's gold and went into battle against the Unicorns. Some will call it murder, but that is nonsence. The Bears and the Unicorns were at war, they did what they thought neccessary to win that war, and I respect them for having the bottle to do that. I took a risk, a greater risk than I might ordinarily have taken, but then I had little choice, and besides the greater the risk, the greater the pay.

To what extent would you defend yourself against those who are out to get you?

There is nothing I will not do, to protect myself against them. This existence is all I have left now, and I will not let Yargon and Pape take it away from me, now matter the friendship we once had. They wish to see me destroyed, so be it.

My father told me a tale once. He was leader of The Old Invincibles before me, and they had a simple rule, if your face did not fit, your sword did not fit either. They knew each other and fought together as friends as well as colleagues. They had wandered through Teutonia in search of a hire all Winter and found nothing and if they did not earn gold soon, they would starve.

Finally they found a pair of bickering lords, petty nobles feuding with each other for land, but neither had coin enough to spare to hire all my father's men. So they drew lots, and one half hired for each lord, and for the price of a few meals, my fathers friends killed each other.

A man who puts his hand in the fire is burned by it, but the Blacksmith works everyday by the heat of the forge and he becomes hardened to the pain. There is NOTHING I will not do to fight those who oppose me.

The mages in the known world can be easily divided into 3 groups.

Floris Brand

Those who want to be Floris Brand

Those who couldn’t care less

There……that was easy. Mages in a nutshell (they must be small) O.k…so now I’m a target for the Mages, I will Address the subject of Mage Bolts. I think those who can cast it may need a service on their trigger runes. We can’t move for charred corpses round here. By the way, isn’t a hair trigger a bit delicate? A nice metal one (but not an iron one) would be better.

Love Halibut, the Moving Target

Halibut’s Guide to Money

Got any?

Love Halibut, the Financially Challenged

Halibut’s Guide To……… Long Distance Travel

Due to a chanting error in the ritual circle (which the druids assure us will be fixed by Wednesday), I was recently forced to travel via the InterVillage 12 point 5 to Sheeps Field. When I got there, I couldn’t remember why I had travelled there in the first place so I came home……The End.

Ok….. ok …..I’ll write the rest of it then Denzil.

Interesting things these InterVillage 12 point 5 carts. How can man (and woman) (and Faerie) survive at these "enormous" velocities (McWitch told me that word….my BIG word for this month) of over 10…..that’s right….10 miles an hour?

He goes to sleep…that’s how. I think that this is probably the greatest sleeping aid since Betty dropped a cat in the Falling Down Water. Nobody on the cart seemed to want to play any games with me, so I decided to ponder the mysteries of this form of travel. Actually I didn’t ponder for long, just have a few questions ……

Why doesn’t the conductor have the rest of his band with him? ….. I like the trombones best.

If he hasn’t got the rest of the band with him, does he just stand on the roof between stations to provide the power?

If so, isn’t this a bit unreliable as a power source….horses are better.

Why do robbers always give up and run away when you start playing even the simplest of games?

Is it really dangerous to use sleep spells on the driver when he’s driving? Surely it relieves the boredom of long journeys.

And why did they have a sign saying no Faeries at the boarding point this morning? I was allowed and that was only a couple of days ago.

I just wondered,

Love Halibut McFee

Ainsley ( he's just the cook ! ) talks to members of the Dragons Faction about their role in the battle at Gathering 1097 in his new series ... " CAN'T FIGHT ; WON'T FIGHT ! "

A month late the Bull is proud to present details of the fauna that was omitted from last issue.

Reknowned through the Heartlands as a delicacy the salmon's bloodyminded nature is matched only by that of other Caledonian wildlife. During the mating season the slamon will fight its way past any obstacles, upstream to its chosen spawning pool - often ignoring many of the taverns along the way! Some cunning fishermen have taken advantage of such predictable behavoiur to stay out of the salmons' way at that time of year, however less canny hunters ( Mad Billy C ) have been known to lie in wait and "nut" salmon as they leap out of the water to crest waterfalls.

Not to be confused with the harts of Albion, the Caledonian stag is a magestic creature ; both more handsome and more dangerous than its southern counterpart. It can be found across the lowlands of Caledonia in search of something to mate with ; particularly during "rutting season" when the males attempt to fight and/or sleep with anything that gets in their way. It is from such a reputation that the concept of a "stag night" amongst male clansmen was born.

Amongst the most honoured of all Caledonia's wildlife, the grouse is one of the few species to have a whiskey named after it. Many clansmen seem anxious to deny rumour that the grouse's popularity derives from it being extremely slow and easy to shoot. Such denial may become especially fervant when it is noted that many clamsne do not possess projectile and are probably reduced to hunting with throwing knives.

Several decades ago settlers from Albion brought with them tales of a household faerie who visited homes at Yule and left presents for those children who had been well behaved all year. Such stories suprised the celts who had never heard of a well behaved child, nevermind some sort of overweight pixie who sought to reward such children. Over the years Caledonia has drawn the myth of Santa Claus into its own traditions, however sadly the locals' reaction to a " kindly old elf " with a sack of goodies is less than hospitable. As good children lie nervously in bed waiting for their presents, their parents lie stealthily in bushes waiting for their chance to smack the geriatric sprite over the head with a horseshoe!

Yule is one of the few times of year when Caledonia's "legendary" generosity comes to the fore with the buying of presents for family and friends. This tradition is understandably more popular amongst smaller clans (few McYokels can name all their relatives; let alone find them appropriate presents) but has been adapted by many stingier celts to include only presents for one's parents and those two siblings closest to you in age. Traditional children’s gifts are wooden swords for the boys and wooden swords for the girls whilst food, drink and the inevitable socks are most common amongst adults ... Denzil McYokel's desire to give his offspring towns in Albion is most definitely the exception rather than the rule.

Generally most celts think trees are very nice ... their main function however is to get chopped down and either (a) made into something or (b) burnt. Few people (i.e. Queen Blodwyn and Clan McPooh) see the point of wasting time and effort decorating an inanimate object with food when they could be down the pub instead.

The traditional Caledonian Yuletide dinner consists of broth, ale, haggis, mead, grouse, ale, duck, whiskey, venison, ale, mutton and/or beef (varies for McYokels and McTaffs), wine, neeps and tatties, ale, pudding (made with whiskey) and cake (made with ale) ... the Old Invincibles settle down to a nice pot of tea and some gingersnaps instead of pudding and cake. In general the only difference between this and any other meal is the silly paper hats.

Not to be confused (as the late Barking McLooney did one year) with abseiling. This is the tradition of drunken celts wandering around in large groups and singing at passers-by until they are given food or alcohol. All too commonly the festivities end in personal injury as two hordes of wassaillers meet and try to out-soprano each other.

Not to be confused with Wassailling. Thankfully "Carol" is not a common name in Caledonia for every Yule hordes of young celts set out across the Albion border to try and be the first to capture and return someone of that name. Often a degree of coercion and subterfuge are involved as participants bring back random women, men, livestock and even furniture, and try to convince the clan elders that their prisoner is a Carol. Generally the competition takes place within a single clan, with the winner acquiring everyone else’s unwanted Yuletide presents (usually the socks).

Denzil McYokel, Cormac McTaff, Piglet McPooh, Smallfry McNut, Dougie McFinn, Dai McTaff, Carrot McYokel, Callus McYokel, Laghlan McYokel, Canny Wee Angus McYokel, Breaca McYokel, Ainsley McYokel, Taliesin McYokel,

(That’s about enough; the list goes on for another 3 pages!!! - Ed )

Rumours were circulating this month regarding the formation of the "Caledonian Child Support Agency ". If stories are true then not only are they investigating Denzil McYokel's lack of support for Tigger McPooh and their 4 "McPookels", but there is possibility that the unit may also be called in to deal with a couple of higher profile cases ... If Queen Morrigan is carrying the child of the late Thomas Finn, should Dave the Unliving be called upon to contribute towards the child's upkeep ? Does the Tome of Air have any plans to provide financial aid for Lady Agnes Morrisson and her child when it arrives ? Will charges be brought against the Baby-eating Butcher of Rockholme ? Will someone put the Sporran of Fertility in a cold shower and leave it there ? Answers to these and other questions as the news breaks ... only in the McYokel Bull.

Just in case anyone was having any problems thinking of appropriate presents this Yuletide, the Bull has thoughtfully compiled a list of suggestions. Hope this helps...

Chiefy Denzil 

Cold-Forged Iron Weapon

Uncle Yargon

10 minutes alone in a room with Dave the Unliving

Captain Carson

A Pack of Twinnings Specialities

Betty McYokel

Denzil's attention

Editor McYokel

A Spelchek Goblun (Thank ya Ash htat would ba nyce ! –Ed)

Dai McTaff

[SHEEP JOKE CENSORED ] (thank you - Ed)

Ash

Control of Reality

Lord Rhino

A Proper Beard

Smallfry McNut

Fake Birth Certificate

Piglet McPooh

The Stormbulls (interpret that as you will !!!- Ed)

Connor C'l'ch'l'n

Some Vowels

Joshua McTay 

Ellias Karlennon Action figure (with eagle eyes)

Dafydd McTaff

Caitlin McYokel !!!

Mr Turnip

Mrs Turnip

Duke Scafloc

A 150 gallon tub of Armour Polish

Clan McYokel

Speech Therapy

Badger

Reincarnation as something more useful

Elfar McPhee

A Damn good kicking

Clan McEwan

18" of steel, blade venom and a nice headstone

Dave the Unliving

Peace on earth and goodwill to all "things" (allegedly).

Craggle McGregor

Northern Albion

Ainsley the Cook

One of those cool chef's Hats

Rock McTottie

A Bigger Clan

The Exiles

Kilts

Roo McPooh

Christopher Robin

Lord Arcane

A Spare Army (for wet weather use!!!)

Fetish McYokel 

[CENSORED] (urgh! no! we'll get shut down - Ed)

The Gasharim

A Copy of "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes"

Lord Severedhead

Some friends !!!!!

The McYokel Bull would like to send its sincerest condolences to the friends of the late Clan McEwan (formerly of the Lions faction) and anybody attempting to defend them. Recent reports suggest that the entire clan is soon to die in a series of freak hunting accidents. We hope everyone shares the same fond memories of how they betrayed Caledoia and joined the Lions ; stole Craggle McGregor's kilt ; and murdered a member of House Karlennon. On behalf of Caledonia and Albion, the McYokel Bull salutes the memory of the Clan McEwan.

( to the tune of "The Holly And The Ivy" )

Zzap!, Rowan, Ash and Turnip

When they are come to town

Of all the mages are in the clan

It's the turnip lets us down.

McWitch's hat is stupid

And Elfar is insane

But the turnip is just a vegetable

And as such has no brain!!!

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