By Sir Kyle Athel

I awoke thinking t'was an angel looking down at Me, what with her golden hair and captivating eyes. The pain in My chest was terrible and I wondered if it really hurt like this after you were dead. I tried to tell her to stop shaking Me, but she persisted, saying we had to get up and move. I could smell smoke. I struggled, almost passing out again, but managed with her help to get to My feet.

All I remember was staggering the few difficult yards to a rear building where I collapsed again. When I woke up I was in Martin's old bed. My angel was giving Me water and although I was still in pain, she had somehow stopped the bleeding from the wound in My chest. I remember her feeding Me as the fever took over My body. It was days before the fever broke and I and began to remember what happened.

My parents Lord and Lady Athel of Hampton had built a small stone manor in the forest just outside of the small village of Hampton. I had enjoyed a marvelous young life, carefree and filled with training in the martial arts from Martin, My father's servant. I also spent hours learning the structural design of buildings from My father himself. Athelhampton was His pride and joy. My mother had a single servant named Alice that did most of the chores.

I was 23 in 1313 when My life suddenly changed. The rogues burst out of the forest and were on Us before We knew what was happening. Martin, My father, and I did Our best, but the odds of twenty ruffians against three were too much. Martin went down first, a hammer blow to the head which crushed His skull. My father tried to protect My mother, but a knife tore him open from the waist up. The last I remember was the short sword piercing My chest and everything going black.

When the fever finally broke, I learned that the angel girl had lived with her mother in the village. My mother had hired her the very day of the attack to help Martin tend to the gardens, which was probably what saved her. She heard the noise in the main house and looked through a back window, watching in horror as they slaughtered, raped, stole and then set the manor on fire before heading off towards the village.

Holding a cloth over her mouth she had entered the rear of the manor and found Me the only one breathing. She had somehow managed to half carry, half drag Me to Martin's rear building while the flames tore through the manor. She had later crept into the village, only to find it ransacked and burned. There were few survivors and her mother did not appear to be among them.

It was a few more weeks until I was strong enough to rise and walk. As soon as I was able, I went through the remains of the manor, now only a few stones in a pile of rubble as the timbers had burned and failed. I found a few articles that survived the flames... My mother's ruby necklace which I still carry and My fathers sword.

As the girl bathed Me one night, it became obvious to U/us both that I was regaining My strength, as well as My vigor. She blushed when she noticed the change in My manhood, and quickly turned away. I grabbed her arm, forcing her to remain close and stared into her big blue eyes. I saw fear there, but I also saw hunger. The girl could not deny the desires consuming her young body.

She stood motionless as I pushed her loose dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, leaving her completely exposed to Me. My eyes traveled down her body and back up as I tugged her hand, motioning for her to join Me in the tub. She eased into the warm water and straddled Me, and W/we lost ourselves in the moment of passion and her complete surrender and submission to Me.

I knew then I would never let her go. Aye, twas that very night, the night of her deflowering, that I took her as My own, and vowed to keep her with Me forever and gave her the name of ~lava~. She blushes when I explain that I named her that because of the smoldering heat that lies between her smooth firm thighs, always ready to erupt for Me.

I knew We had to move; find a place to survive until I was strong enough to return and possibly seek revenge on the villains that had shattered My life. I was lucky to find My father's horse which had run off in the woods during the attack. We struck off North, feeding from what I could either trap or ~lava~ found growing in the forest.

It seemed we were not well received, considered more like outlaws, until one day in February of 1314 when we spent a night in what I at first thought was a deserted castle. But the food supply hinted that there were indeed dwellers there.

We slept on the furs in front of the fireplace that night, not knowing if the owners would throw Us out as soon as they found Us. The following morning it was still vacant so We examined the castle and realized a few chambers were being used, although the occupants were either sleeping or off somewhere.

I decided to wait and meet the owner and see if there was work here for Me. I knew that lava's serving skills would be well accepted, but strange Knights looking a bit worn and unshaven might not be so easy.

To My surprise, We were welcomed first by a lovely woman named dreamweaver. She said to feel free to partake of anything We needed from the scullery and store rooms and We could use one of the empty chambers upstairs.

Then I met the hefty Scot, Charon Styx and Duke Douglas. We shared a few drinks and a few tales and I felt a bound forming. We finally met Lord Marc and I was asked to stay and help with mapping the castle.

My ~lava~ and I had found a place to call home. That home is Castle MacLaaran.

W/we realized quickly that there were only a few MacLaaran members, Marc, Charon Styx, Duke Douglas, the Duke's wife amanda, Sir William Douglas, and of course Dream Weaver.

After several weeks, My talent at mapmaking earned Me a spot on the MacLaaran Council. I learned that Marc avidly agreed with My feelings that a medieval theme room like MacLaaran needed no King, but instead a solid, dependable Council. We spent hours discussing ways to improve the MacLaaran Council.

W/we began discussing ways to increase the population in the castle and the village. Dreamer spent hours out pursuing and dragging in new visitors. lava helped with the website Dreamer had started and within a few weeks people began requesting chambers and cottages that they saw in the maps and floor plans. Finally, lava and I were making a living, paying O/our way!

Lady Emerald, Lady Skye and James MacGregor joined in March, followed by Lady Payton, Lady Aradia and Lord Gray in April. By July, even though Charon and Duke Douglas had disappeared, W/we had 25 Members.

Over the following years, hundreds of people have visited O/our home, some have joined and a few have moved on, but the core group is solid and dependable.

Many have offered help in the development of castle games, events, and activities, including some marvelous Role Playing Games (RPG).

In 1315 Mark MacDougal (NPC) and his three brothers, who hated Dream Weaver, tried to overthrow Marc and the current MacLaaran Castle leadership, but they were repelled in a vicious battle along the main road between MacLaaran and Gaspard.

Emil Al-Fazul (NPC) made two futile efforts to regain possession of the medallion that Lord Marc brought back from the Crusades, and eventually once We discovered the meaning of the medallion, and with King Roberts support, we turned it over.

Garth (NPC), one of Emil's favorite mercenaries, kidnapped sarah (NPC) and harassed lava. He was captured, found guilty by the MacLaaran Magistrate, Alan MacRumpole (NPC) and hung. He did show up as the Castle Armoury Ghost, but a séance managed to dispel that threat.

O/our lava's mother kate (NPC) and her sister abby (NPC) periodically visited MacLaaran after moving to the nearby village of Gaspard and worked as waitresses in Randy's Gaspard Tavern. They have since moved to MacLaaran and now work in lava's Coffee Shoppe.

Rita MacLean aka cookie (NPC), can often be seen bustling around in the scullery or pursuing poor seth (NPC) around the castle grounds. Stay clear when she has that rolling pin of hers in hand. Ask James!!

We originally had that nice herd of sheep mulling about in the nearby meadow. lava made it her personal responsibility to protect the poor creatures, often having to free them from someone's locked chambers. No names are mentioned here, but W/we know damn well who that might be. Currently we've moved the flock over to the Glen where Aspen gets paid t' tend t' them.

W/we now have O/our own reverend, Friar Henry, and O/our own Fire House

For more current information, please read the MacLaaran History in the library.