At last!

Introducing Morgan, and some updates.

Umm, this is Sara writing at the moment. We caught a virus on MySpace, and apparently we aren't the only ones; at least six other people who have Spaces there have had their computers go belly-up. I really don't want to spend too much time on this as we are free of it and it's getting a little redundant for the Community. I've had enough of it, anyway!

Speaking of MySpace, I will be managing the main Outlands Community board for a while. Roy says he's sick of the place and I don't blame him. I have some ideas for blog entries there that would be similar but different from the ones we have across the Internet. Not qute sure just what. Oh yeah, by the way, Roy stumbled over a blog service offered by MSN, so we have one just sitting in limbo for the moment. Actually, they all have been sitting in limbo since (roughly) September 24. That's when we got infected.

We got a new lady into the Community today and her name is Morgan! And claims to be of the bloodline of Morgan Le Fey. Our angelic crew passed her as squeeky clean...we've had a few rogues in the past, which is a story Roy ought to tell on Morion, right, Roy? ...Roy? ROY! [ mmm-huh? oh, yeh ] That's a new one, sleeping while channeling me. Jon Klimo oughta here about that one. Morgan, would you like to try entering something here?

MORGAN: This is so odd! It is far...far from...scrolls and quills! But it does the same. I cannot believe how fast you taught me how to write, and to - to - well, I have never seen anything like this. This community. And this world, so far from the one that I left behind when I died. Yet some things never change, like your old rascal having desires for someone like me! [laughs] And you having desires for me! And everyone for everyone, it seems, how deliciously mad! I never thought to have pleasures like that again! You see, I found that I could not seek vengeance on priests and all, it's a - looking for word - a knowledge I have because of my blood-heritage. I am almost loath to say, after how you've told me of the distortions this world has applied to my ancestor's sacred memory. My grandmother's mother was Morgan Le Fey; I am of Percival, not Mordred. I knew of Mordred and may have met his kin, but I am not sure. We were on islands quite a bit, the people from the Frankish tribes were starting to come over and we had a bounty upon us, they were afraid of our skills, so-called. Nowadays I think they are called "Scilly" and "Manx," they were off Brittania's shores. There were other islands, peopled by Celts like myself, some more sunward, some less so, some quite inhospitable but for the fish, whales and seaweed which we drew in abundance from the waters.

I knew little of my honored ancestor's life and this was because by being kept in ignorance if captured by Franks or those of the northern seas, there was little knowledge to confess under torture. From what little I learned in my life, my family was supposedly a living repository of all Celtic "magic," whatever that may mean; or that we knew secret traditions of the Druids. What we knew everyone knew, even the Franks and northern sea-raiders. By the time of my birth the Druids had been dead for a very long time. Also, the Church would have considered us a choice capture, for supposedly we knew where Joseph of Aramatia hid the Grail. If my honored ancestor knew, she took that secret to the grave. Then we were supposed to know the cave where Merlin slept. Now here was something about which I did know. However, Merlin was not sleeping in that cave, he was buried in it. I was shown the place once, it was in that part of Brittania where Cornik is spoken. I do not know if I could find it now. Of Merlin's ethereal whereabouts, or that of Arthur, I know not.

My life was spent always about, on land and sea, never calling one place a home. Sometimes we traversed the land with the Wanderers who spoke a strange tongue, and of which we knew a portion. Because of my skill with cloth and birken bark I was always welcome within this closed little band. In truth, they provided the only real home I may ever have had. I would have liked to have passed from the "mortal" realm whilst among them, but as it was I died after thrown from a coracle near shore to some small isle, and struggling as only a weary old woman might, made shore but expired alone. At least I lay upon my back and closed my eyes with the stars overhead. I was greeted shortly after by the stately guide Escaurus, with whom I have wandered our sad fair world many a year. And now, for one so long without home, I give thanks to That Which Is for Their mercies in tendering me a place at last.