The Curious Tale of Panache and the League of the Moderators

[macwilkin]

A study of the relationship between European Heraldry and the development of Clan Tartans within a context of Regimental Symbols and the interplay of the Military History.

How did you guess the title of my Master's Thesis? :mrgreen:

T.

[davedove]

It was a traditional light Scottish breakfast of fried slices of haggis and other sausage, fried eggs, fried bacon, fried ham, fried potatoes, fried tomatoes, kippers, thick slices of toasted bread, rich clotted cream and tea. Like all the fare served within the great Hall, the meal was excellent, though somewhat dangerous to one‘s blood vessels that felt noticeably hardened and clogged by the meal’s end.

What??? No fried butter??

[starbkjrus]

Where do you come up with this?? Brilliant!

Of course now I'm hungry.

[Freelander Sporrano]

Oh Yummy! It must have been our chef Old Robertsons special :Wink:

[way2fractious]

Certain parts have the lingering aroma of autobiography. However, the best yarns are but multi-layered embellishments piled atop the core experiences. Write on!

[Weasel Mender]

More, More!!!!!!! I once thought I told a good story but I yield both horse and foot to a true master:yes:

[Panache]

The Curious Tale of Panache and the League of the Moderators

Chapter 10

Second Challenge: Teacups and Cabers

Rob tapped the side of the battered tam and the paper slips again began to shoot out of the hat. Dee caught them and read the order in we would proceed to the next challenge.
“Mr. Red! Mr. Malt! Mr. Plume! Mr. Dove! And last Mr. Derek!” Dee shouted as he grabbed each one. Mr. Red gave a jaunty wave and proceeded through the next door carved with “X” symbol of the League of the Moderators.

We waited in silence as Mr. Red faced whatever lay behind that door. After some 10 minutes had passed there was the sound of a small bell. Rob turned to Mr. Malt and said, “If you are ready you may proceed”. Mr. Malt rose and gave us a wink and he to went through the portal.

Mr. Derek and I were quiet as we awaited our own turns, but I noted that Mr. Dove was happily humming to himself. He went on to produce a small brown bag from his voluminous sporran. Opening the bag he removed one of what appeared to be a number of small steel ball bearings. He dropped the metal marble back into the bag. But before I could ask him if this was some type of good luck charm there was another bell ring. Dee inquired if I was ready to proceed. I rose and entered through the door to the next challenge.

The door shut behind me and I was in a large darkened room. A dim light appeared in the distance and slowly moved toward me. As it came closer I was able to observe it was the gleam of a disembodied grin that turned slow cartwheels as it grew nearer. Reaching me, the smile stopped it’s gyrations and the rest of the Moderator Rufus materialized. Just as before, he spoke not a word. He pointed at me. I looked down at myself and wondered if perhaps there was something wrong with my attire. I looked up at his grinning face and shrugged. He pointed again at me. I again regarded my person and brushed away a small piece of lint on the lapel of my Argyle jacket. I looked at Rufus and shrugged again. For a third time he pointed at me. Feeling a bit bewildered I ventured “I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?” The Moderator walked forward and clasped his hands on my shoulders and firmly turned me around that I might look at the wall behind me. I came to the sudden realization that he had been gesturing to a bronze plaque that hung there. On the plaque was inscribed “A Moderator must be able to walk carefully and with sure footing amongst the trickiest situations”. I turned to face Rufus who clapped his hands and the lights came on it the room.

I beheld numerous teacups and saucers stacked carefully atop each other into tall towers 6 feet high. These delicate porcelain columns were arranged to form a large maze. Further examination showed that from many of these stacks of china were attached thin wires that stretched to the high ceiling. These wires were in turn looped and twisted through an elaborate series of pulleys and counterweights to suspend a great number of cabers high overhead. Now being of a willowy build and somewhat fragile constitution I have personally never competed amongst those brave athletes in the tossing of these great logs. But by reputation knew of their considerable weight. Rufus pointed at the door on the far side of the room. His body then dematerialized leaving only his grin which then too slowly dissolved from view.

Now I should at this point make mention that I have a great fondness for teacups. I am highly proud of my modest collection. And as a collector my first emotion was not fear of the danger of the cabers hanging from the ceiling above, rather I felt giddy delight and excitement at the prospect of viewing the wonderful collection before me. I entered the maze and gently strode amongst the bone china. I was saddened that I could only give a lightest of perusals to these delicate works of art. How I longed to reach out and hold some of them to the light that I might give proper inspection to the intricate patterns and subtleties of some of the brush work. I contented myself to quickly admire as many of the works of Lenox, Royal Dalton, Royal Albert, and many others as I could as I made my way through the maze. Such is my love of china and acquaintance with the delicacy required in it’s handling that I found little effort in traversing the labyrinth. In fact it was with great reluctance I gave a last look at the teacups and saucers and exited through the door to the next chamber.

This room was exactly the same as the one that I had come to after my interview with Todd. In fact, I felt a momentary confusion and wondered if I had gone to the beginning of the maze by mistake. The presence of Mr. Malt and Mr. Red assured me that I had succeeded. I took a seat and we three waited together. I attempted to share my delight at the collection we had passed through. I suspected that Mr. Red and Mr. Malt did not hold the same enthusiasm to porcelain. This was made evident when Mr. Malt said “You're bloody daft Man! We coulda been squashed as flat as a’ Yorkshire pud by a muckle big caber and all he wanna spake o’ is the bloody teacups!” Chastised I attempted no further conversation and we waited quietly for Mr. Dove.

Our wait was not long and Mr. Dove joined us, humming and grinning as he sat down. He returned a now empty brown bag into his sporran. A moment passed and we all jumped up at the most tremendous sound of crashing logs and shattered china. For many anxious minutes we waited for Mr. Derek. But we waited in vain. Eventually a somber looking Dee and Rob came through the door. Dee said briefly, “I am terribly sorry to note that Mr. Derek was not successful in completing the second task”. Rob then added, “please don’t worry about Mr. Derek. The doctor says that while he is a bit flattened he should mend. A course of walking tours and plenty of liquids should help rehabilitate him.” We were all saddened to hear that our companion would not be continuing on with us. At least Mr. Malt , Mr. Red, and myself showed distress at Mr. Derek‘s misfortune. I saw that oddly Mr. Dove’s grin didn’t waver at this news. Now I certainly would not wish it felt that I possessed a suspicious mind, or bore ill will to any of my comrades. Still I could not help but think of Mr. Dove’s apparent lack of empathy, Mr. Derek’s accident, and the small empty brown bag. This train of thought was abruptly broken when Dee held up the sorting tam and Rob asked us “are you prepared for the next challenge?”

To be continued…

[The F-H.C.A.G.]

...Such is my love of china and acquaintance with the delicacy required in it’s handling that I found little effort in traversing the labyrinth...

On our honeymoon, we had to visit every shop in Carmel that sold fine china. The term "bull in a china shop" has a certain relevance to myself, yet every clerk would, of course, come up to me and ask "may I help you?". I would just keep my hands at my sides, stand as close to the door as possible and say, "Talk to my husband-he's the one who collects teacups." They always looked so confused !

Be well,

[cloves]

"Talk to my husband-he's the one who collects teacups." They always looked so confused !

Be well,

so he collects teacups...AND bladed weapons?? How interesting. Very divergent taste in things.

[Retro Red]

I've been enjoying the yarn you've been weaving, Panache.

Great character development. In fact, I particularly identify with one of the characters (& what a character!)...

Though I was sorry to read about Mr. Derek falling on "shard" times in the Great Hall of China. Poor Mr. Derek, in his cups; a victim of "saucer"-y, you might say...
.