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Re: Hello...

Poster: Vicky Rowe <vrowe@us.ibm.com>

Thyra Beiskaldi said:

In a message dated 97-11-24 magnusm@ncsu.edu writes:

 Welcome to our Kingdom!

 You neglected to tell us what part of our kingdom you live in M'lady.
 If you haven't figured it out yet, we are VA, NC, SC, MD and Augusta,
 GA. There are any number of groups waiting to assimilate you...

We are the SCA.  You will be assimilated.  Resistance is futile.

(Jeez, I'm surpriesed no one else has gotten to this one yet.)

Thyra Beiskaldi

*Chuckle* I've been waiting to see if someone would.....

Greetings, all! My name is Vicky Rowe (no persona yet, suggestions welcome) a
Scots herbwoman and brewer,
currently residing in the Canton of Elvegast. I lurk in the Rialto, and have
subscribed here at the Merry Rose, and
am most interested in getting involved in the SCA.

My current activities in this vein include attending Renaissance Faires in GA,
NC, Raleigh, and VA. I also attend
Scottish Highland games at Stone Mtn, GA, Grandfather Mtn, NC, Loch Norman, NC,
and the Flora McDonald games in
Red River, NC.

I have acquired several pieces of garb, including the ever-comfortable bodice,
chemise blouse, and multiple earth toned
skirts, leather belt and boots. I've also had made a traveling dress modeled
after the style seen as the 'Irish Traveling dress'
in the Chivalry Sports Catalog (in dark green, not that icky green green) and
have had a leine made to the pattern I found
through Cariodoc's pages. I've a muffin cap and snood, a plaid brat, with 3 yds
plaid on the way (can't wait!) to use arasaidh (sp?)
fashion. (sheepish look) I've also just recently acquired a beauteous dirk,
SwanMay, from the good gentles at Lundgaard Armoury.
I will be picking up dinnerware at wherever (prob. Pier One) shortly.

Persona-wise, I have no name yet, as I haven't figured out that blasted name
construction stuff yet. Suggestions are welcome as to
name construction.

So far the research has led me to this person:
It is the year 1556 and I am a Scots woman of between 25, with skill in herb
lore and brewing (both of which I have in RL).

I am Marsaili, elder sister to Cathall, laird of Broch Dhubh, a small holding
under Struan in the SE part of the Highlands, just north of Inverness.
Cathall, my younger brother by 8 years, having ascended to the lairdship at
the  ripe old age of 17, upon the death of our father during an
injudicious cattle raid into the neighboring lands of MacGregor. Our holding
contains some 30-40 crofts, and our lands border that of the ?clan?
and ?clan? lands. (Working on that.....)

Our father, nominally a Catholic, had fallen further and further from the
church after our mother died bearing my younger sister,
and as a result, I had learned the ancient teachings from the auld crofter
woman who half raised me and taught me herbs and brewing.
Some say she was a witch because she paid revered the old beliefs, those of the
earth. I knew she was only a kindly auld dame who loved me
like her own, and I miss her kind presence.
After she died, when I was 22, many in the district would surreptitiously make
warding gestures when I walked by, thinking I didn't see.
I knew the rumors in the town down the broch from the manor house we lived in,
that I was a witch. I discounted it, and being the laird's
daughter, nothing came of it

As I was still unmarried at the age of 25, due to our father having a soft spot
for his eldest, and allowing me to 'run wild' to
the point of learning some weapons skills with staff and dirk (the arms teacher
also had a soft spot for me). My brother, because of this,
and being a shallow and somewhat cruel person, unlike our father, and seeing
the opportunity to forge an alliance with another clan,
sought to wed me to the laird of another clan, a rough, simple man, who had a
reputation for cruelty amongst his people. I refused,
wishing only to be left alone to practice my not-inconsiderable skills with
herbs (taught me by an old crofter woman, who had half
raised me after our mother died when I was 8). My brother was furious, and
threatened to have me banished and denounced as
a witch (he had heard the rumors and being a superstitious man, half believed
them, we didna get on well, he and I), should I refuse to obey,
and him the laird of this place. I told him I had swaddled his bottom when he
was little and he didn't impress me now, either.

In a rage, (for which he was justly feared, his rages were legendary in the
district), he roared that I was hereto banished from his lands. I
told him to get stuffed (and having anticipated this when I refused his
marriage idea, had already packed a bag and stored it under a dead
tree at the edge of the woods in anticipation of his reaction) and left, taking
only my clothes, what jewelry was left me by my mother, some
small store of coin from grateful folks as I'd healed with my herbcraft, my
clothing, cloak and SwanMay, a dirk made me by the armourer,
after my father gave in to my constant pestering to have "my own blade, Da,

I am now a wanderer, sleeping under the stars when I must, in barns  and
haystacks when I can, and at homes  when offered. I ply my herbcraft,
and will sometimes spend a season or two at a castle, treating the inhabitants
and crofters, brewing mead and ale as an assistant to the castle

My clan is that of Donnachaidh, and my name is Marsaili ingen Dhonnachadh,
although since my banishing, I am know only as Marsaili of Struan,
the herbwoman.
Thus ends the story of Marsaili. I would welcome all suggestions, criticisms,
corrections, and etc. on the above story and persona construction.
I am interested in getting involved with SCA in Elvegast and would appreciate
any information you can provide.


Wassail! and Fare ye well, gentles

Marsaili the wanderer
aka Vicky Rowe

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