For those who followed http://legacymactavish.wordpress.com/ you may have already read this particular backstory, and you’ll have also read how I lost the entire legacy, and now I have to start again.  I decided to go with Travis, because I’m determined to get his family to ten generations.  Come hell or high water… One day I’ll do it too.  Anywho I’ve recycled the original prologue because I’m re-familiarising myself with WordPress and stuff, aaaand because it’s a link to the previous attempt, aaaaand recycling earns you kharmic brownie points.  So without further ado, on with the story!

As you may have guessed, our story really begins in the majestic and rugged highlands of Scotland.

It is Scotland, really!  Not some stunt Scotland that looks suspiciously like the back end of Sunset Valley!  (Needs more trees doesn’t it?) 

Anyways, where was I?  Oh, setting a poetic scene, thats right.  *clears throat*  As I was saying, Our story really begins in the highlands of Scotland, specifically a lush and tranquil glen nestled in between the harsh crags and desolate moors. 

The glen provided haven and livelihood for a small family of the Clan MacTavish.  They had lived and prospered in the glen for many generations, building the family home up from the lowly cow byre it had started out from.  For generations they had fished the loch, farmed the sheep, rustled the cattle from the MacGregors in the neighbouring valley, and faced the world with typical dour scottish pragmatism.  But all that was about to change! *Dundundun!*

The Current Lord MacTavish and his lady had lived and worked the lands for many years.  They had had many fine children.  Travis wasn’t one of them.   Eventually he worked out that as the youngest, he’d be lucky if he could carve out space in the barn with the cattle (All MacGregor cattle naturally.)  There just wasn’t space for him in the family home.   In the olden days he’d would have been able to do something daring and adventureous, possibly in a kilt with other young impetuous scotsmen, these days however, his options were limited to a boring job, the dole, or an intimate friendship with the local police and the denizens of various correctional institutions. 

Declaring that he could do those things anywhere, Travis decided to do just that!  He was going to conquor the New World in the name of MacTavish!  After all it had been something like 500 years and not one of his ancestors had done so yet.  His parents were suitably dour and pragmatic and bought his meager possessions for just enough money for a one-way plane ticket to Simerica, wailing all the while about the calamities that would beset their daft red-heided youngest son.

 However as Travis gazed one last time over the drizzly hills of his ancestors he knew that he was doing the right thing!  He’d make his own way in the world, raise a family, create a legacy of his own, in a place where it never rained!  Ever! 

 

As luck would have it, his first night in the New World saw him collect a small fortune from a card game played with some friendly chaps at a shady warehouse.  Just enough for Travis to purchase a suitable plot of land on the cliffs above the ocean, but not enough to see Travis come to an untimely end at the hands of his new friends….because that would have meant the end of the story, and there is definately plenty more story to come.

Title Poem:   Farewell to Scotland