Large Fierce Mammal

“… let not us that are squires of the night’s body be called thieves of the day’s beauty. Let us be Diana’s foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon, and let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.” ~ W. Shakespeare, Henry IV, Act 1 Scene 2

What ho Goode Reader, and well met! To the delight of our Comrades and the dismay of our Enemies, we find ourselves here again to experience the start of this most delightful of seasons — that being called Dark Sentiments. One that begins in the breathless anticipation born of hoping old and Esteemed Friends will announce their survival of the year past by a resounding knock of sword pommel or pistol butt against the door, and ends with the whirlwind of Lust that is the celebration of the LFM nuptials on the blessed day called Hallowe’en. The night on which the veil between the Worlds, and that obscuring Mrs. LFM’s Polish pulchritude, are at their thinnest.

For those of you who’ve made the pilgrimage, please know that we look forward to hearing the story behind the new scars, both inside and out, you’ve acquired on the road that brought you to join in this year’s sport and revelry. Should anything you find here invoke the beloved, “That reminds me of a story,” response, please do inform the assemblage in a comment. For now Goode Reader, take your ease while we endeavour to slake all your thirsts.