Captain FitzLyon

Brian Tanner
 - Captain Remo Fitzlyon, Gentleman at Arms: Former Captain of Scouts
and Guides in the Highland Guards of Vandalia, Captain Fitzlyon is
currently employed by the Dowager Duchess as High Constable {and
anything else Her Grace can think up for him to do} of the Realm.
Copious amounts of whiskey were required to obtain the following
transcript from Captain Fitzlyon, himself; “I was born on the boat
betwixt Glasgow and Belfast, so stow yer gruff about me “strange
accent”! Me folks had a farm in the Pale of Ireland for a bit, but we
lost it to marauders. They got sick on the boat back from Ireland and
died while our ship was quarantined off Port Glasgow. Not wanting to
wait for me own demise, I swam ashore and made due on me own till I fell
 in with a bunch of Reivers under “Black Jack” Douglas, a bastard son of
 the Lord of Galloway. We had a merry run of the borders, collecting the
 “black mail” or stealing cattle, horses, other stock from those who
dinna pay up. We’d do a spot of kidnapping when needs be, but t’was more
 for collecting wives and sweethearts than for cash. I was part of the
troop under Black Jack’s oldest boy, Patrick, when our young laird
decides he wants a certain lass who’d been betrothed to some school
teacher. So, off we ride to make our “objections” at the wedding. Now,
the bride’s kin were nay tribble a’tall; the groom’s side of the aisle
t’were another story. It seems the “school teacher” was personal tutor
to the Duke of Rothesay, himself. Who’s the Duke of Rothesay? Bleeding
ferners! I bet ya keen who the Prince of Wales be, as heir to the
Sassenach throne; well the Duke of Rothesay is the heir to the throne of
 Scotland. Silly flatlander! So, there we were up against the royal
guard of the son of Mary, Queen of Scots, and it was Her Gracious Mercy
alone that saved us from the gallows- or worse! But, she did banish us
to the New World; only we missed our boat. So, here comes THE MacLeod,
Kin of the Fae, with one of his fairy uncles to have us magically
transported. As this uncle is working up his magic to transport us-
seems shipping a troop of reivers, arms and all, tis nay easy doings-
what do I see but a bonny lass WITH WINGS! Now, I’d seen me share of
lasses by that point, but nay any with wings! Well, I suppose I gawked
long enough she caught me staring and smiled at me; so I smiled back.
Then she waved, so I waved back. When she fluttered her eyelashes at me,
 I winked back at her. Well, that’s when her Da, the bloody Fairy King
himself, caught what we was doing. He didn’t keen it well that a ruffian
 such as me should be making eyes at his daughter, so I get’s a “special
 treatment.” What “special treatment”? Lad, ya dinna bring a big enough
jug of whiskey t’make me recall that nightmare! Lets say, I ended up
about 200 or so miles to the north of us in the land of Vandalia.
Fortunately, the Lord of Vandalia needed someone to skulk around and
protect his cattle and lands, and I, having experience in such skulking,
 was more than up to the task. Soon, I became the Captain of the Scouts
and Guides, being made an officer and gentleman by the Lord himself.
But, in time I began missing me mates, and decided to come south to find
 them. The rest of the story? Ah, laddie, that’s a tale for another time
 and another jug!”