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magic-moments-msg - 7/17/13


Those "magic moments" that have occurred to others in the SCA.


"All of us who participate in the SCA have at one time or another experienced a magic moment, a point where we witness something so special that it will stay with us forever."


NOTE: See also the files: A-Study-o-SCA-art, Fndng-T-Dream-art, SCA-as-family-msg, SCA-reasons-msg, SCA-The-Dream-msg, The-Blow-art, The-Society-art, SCA-Sociology-art, A-Peer-Within-art.





This file is a collection of various messages having a common theme that I have collected from my reading of the various computer networks. Some messages date back to 1989, some may be as recent as yesterday.


This file is part of a collection of files called Stefan's Florilegium. These files are available on the Internet at: http://www.florilegium.org


I have done a limited amount of editing. Messages having to do with separate topics were sometimes split into different files and sometimes extraneous information was removed. For instance, the message IDs were removed to save space and remove clutter.


The comments made in these messages are not necessarily my viewpoints. I make no claims as to the accuracy of the information given by the individual authors.


Please respect the time and efforts of those who have written these messages. The copyright status of these messages is unclear at this time. If information is published from these messages, please give credit to the originator(s).


Thank you,

   Mark S. Harris                  AKA:  THLord Stefan li Rous

                                         Stefan at florilegium.org



> All of us who participate in the SCA have at one time or another experienced

> a magic moment, a point where we witness something so special that it will

> stay with us forever.


From: bronwynmgn at aol.com (Bronwynmgn)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: magic moments

Date: 14 Apr 1996 13:14:31 -0400


   My magic moment of record occurred in a church basement at Twelfth

Night, when I suddenly realized that absolutely everybody in the room was

doing something that would have been done in a great hall in period, in

the winter, with it snowing outside.  I was sewing; another lady had

coerced a small child into running full tilt around two poles carrying her

weaving thread (the poles were just far enough apart to measure the right

length for her warp threads); many of the lords were rehashing last

summer's battles; others were singing, talking of their current projects,

discussing the upcoming feast, etc.





From: llfarnha at uci.EDU (Lucia L. Farnham-Hudson )

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: magic moments

Date: 13 Apr 1996 17:27:14 -0400


Melisend spoke of the beauty of taking off her glasses at events.  I

concur. I am also profoundly nearsighted, but occasionally find myself

thinking I am lucky to be so.  When I take my glasses off in the middle

of the eric, I am in the middle of a glory of color with no mundanities

intruding into our pageantry.  Music, color, and conversation are all.


On the other hand, fighting without my glasses can be quite amusing.  

Many years ago (long before I had contacts) I fought in a resurrection

battle in a war between the Mists and Cynagua in the West.  When you

died, you were to return to a designated _secret_ spot to resurrect.  If

the enemy found it, they could capture it for their own.  When I died, I

grew suspicious of the enemy dead around me, and decided I'd take off in

the opposite direction from the site, just to throw them off.  I was

right, they did follow me for a bit, but I eventually lost them.  By that

time, I was totally turned around in the woods.  There were no landmarks

for me, and the battle sounds were too muffled to get directions from.  I

eventually banged into a fence and followed it too an open field from

which I could spot the encampments, and from there finally made it back

to the resurrection site.  At which time the horn was blown indicating

the end of fighting.  I'd lost more calories that day fighting the woods

than my enemies ... :)


It's little experiences like that that make me _very_ glad I was born in

_this_ century, where I _can_ correct my vision.



llfarnha at uci.edu



From: david.razler at postoffice.worldnet.att.net (David M. Razler)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: PENNSIC/power

Date: Mon, 08 Jul 1996 04:42:57 GMT




Now all of this is a con: pretending to do medieval while abandoning not a

single creature comfort of our modern world, and, like I said, my limited

system will be in place to give me relatively cooler crash space 'round

noontime, when I happen to need it. Everyone has their own justification for

not living in the style of the Enchanted Ground, such is mine.


But unless one has *greater* health problems <and therefore can get a site

with power> electricity does not belong at Pennsic: Magic Moment Pennsic XIX

<my first> Almost all of the region is blacked out Friday night. And almost no

one at Pennsic knows or cares. The lanterns work, the torches work, the ice

blocks keep things cold that we insist be kept cold....


                       Aleksandr, Traveller/dmr


David M. Razler

david.razler at worldnet.att.net



Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 10:26:34 -0500

To: ansteorra at eden.com

From: Gunnora Hallakarva <gunnora at bga.com>

Subject: Magic Moments


Sir Burke asked about magic moments. Do you remember those old children's

history specials "YOU ARE THERE"??  That's the feeling I associate with the

most magical moments, the ones that let you really believe, all the way

through, that "you ARE there", even if it's only a fleeting moment.


I'll never forget the first time I felt that way.  The event was a War with

the Midrealm (aka The Chigger War or The War the Chiggers Won) during the

reign of King Sigmund I.  The site was a lake in northeast Oklaholma.  As

the battle lines were being formed in the early morning, there was a heavy

foggy mist above the lake and swirling around our knees.  The Midrealm

lines were barely visible through the fog, which erased all traces of

mundanity, revealing colorful glimses of banners and surcoats. It was my

first war, and like any medieval soldier I was scared, and excited.  Then,

just asthe tension had built to almost breaking point for me, behind the

Ansteorran lines the haunting wail of a bagpipe skirled up into the mist...

the hair stood up all over my head and I had tears in my eyes. THAT is

sti9ll the single most powerful moment I have ever experienced in the SCA.


The next best had to be during my Laureling, when, fueled well by the Mead

of Inspiration, Sir Kief af Kierstad extemporized Norse alliterative poetry

for over ten minutes extolling my virtues as testimony to the crown why I

should be made a Laurel.  It was a moving tribute, and a spine-tingling

moment as well for the feeling of "realness" that hearing those measured

lines of poetry rolling out conveyed.


Gunnora Hallakarva




From: zarlor at acm.org (Lenny Zimmermann)

To: ansteorra at eden.com

Subject: Re: Magic Moments

Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 17:55:16 GMT


I must admit that I am still realtively new to the Society, but I find

some of the most magical moments to be some of the little ones that I

just enjoy the most. Often right after a feast sitting among friends

with a happy belly, pleasant conversation and exquisite candlelight I

find myself drifiting off into silence and just pondering and ejoying

the moment. It just seems like there is no place I would rather be

than among such fine friends at just such a time.


But, despite my great enjoyment of such a little moment, it is not one

of those moments when you are "there". There have certainly been times

at Lyonesse that have come close and at one of my first events at a

Yule Revel where we sat out in the dark of the woods in the middle of

the night listening to songs while the fog rolled in. Civilization was

not to be heard anywhere and Mistress Mari's voice lilting out Celtic

sounding songs just seemed right. Not quite "there", but still pretty



I think the hardest part for me is that I work hard to learn a great

deal about my persona and the "character" of a Renaissance courtier

and diplomat and it is just not completely "right" to be with so many

disparate cultures. Much like a stranger in a strange land, is perhaps

the best way I see it, so it's all kind of odd to me anyways. Just as

my modern sense tells me that what we participate in is out of time

and place, the feel for my persona is the same way. Perhaps in that

sense I am often "there", as well. There are, indeed, so many things

to savor and enjoy in the SCA, I hope I can always maintain that

wide-eyed wonder at the pageantry we do. (Although it can be DARN

tough at some events! ;-))


Honos Servio,

Lionardo Acquistapace, Bjornsborg

(mka Lenny Zimmermann, San Antonio)

zarlor at acm.org



Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 19:11:25 -0500 (CDT)

To: ansteorra at eden.com

From: amazing at mail.utexas.edu (dennis grace)

Subject: Re: Magic Moments


Aquilanne here.


Sir Burke asked for magic moments. I started in the SCA in

Montana/Atenveldt, in the eternally-incipient shire of Braanshelm (Billings,

MT), way, way out in the SCA boonies. I had only been playing a few months

when a bunch of us carpooled to a fighter's college in Silver Keep

(Bozeman). Some knights and other charity-minded folk from the Barony of

Loch Salaan (Salt Lake City, Utah) had traveled up to teach and share. The

event was held in the upstairs area of a school gym--fighting, feast,

festivities and all. It was the first event I'd been to where there was

dancing. They got the dancers started with a simple pavan. I was standing to

the side, watching, when I was approached by a tall, stately gentleman

wearing a (gasp, nervous figit) coronet, the first I had ever seen. I bowed,

and moved to let him by, but, low and behold, he stopped, bowed back, took

my hand and asked oh-so-politely if I would honor him with a dance. I was

absolutely agog. The *Baron* asked *me,* a "nobody," to dance! We shared a

pavan, bowed to one another again; he conversed pleasantly with me for a

little while and went on. I still remember how absolutely charmed and

excited I was to be asked to dance by someone so important and so genteel.

Years later, Baron Sir Robert de Spencer still stands in my mind as a

paragon of nobility. In that shining moment, so young into the SCA

experience, I was no longer a "nobody;" I *was* a lady at court, fortunate

enough to have had the Baron's arm for a dance.


As proficient as I like to believe myself at communication, mere words can't

begin to do justice to the magic of that moment for me.


Dennis Grace

University of Texas at Austin

English Department

Recovering Medievalist

amazing at mail.utexas.edu



Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 19:57:39 -0500 (CDT)

From: kal35810 at jetson.uh.edu (Kathy Lee)

Subject: Re: Magic Moments

To: ansteorra at eden.com


How to choose just one "Magic Moment" ... OK, so how about my first?


I had done some fencing in college, and originally joined the SCA in Loch

Sollier for the rapier combat.  At fighter practice, I met up with Rodger of

York, who was then a newcomer as well.  We knew each other from high school,

and soon became fast friends and travelling companions.  (Getting horribly

lost most of the time.)


At our first event, which was Quest for Clover, Rodger and I stumbled across

a bardic circle.  People were taking turns performing, and the candle

eventually made its way around to us.  We were clueless.  We had sung

together in high school, though, and we both knew "Today."  That was as

close to Period Music we could come.  We steadied our nerves, stood up, and

did our best.


The circle made a few more rounds, and we managed to avoid performing again.

Afterwards, a red-haired lady with a crown on her head, who had sung the

most beautiful song I'd ever heard, introduced Rodger and I to the concept

of largess.  I still have the string of beads she gave me, and Rodger I

believe still has the pin.


I later found out that the lady was Duchess Siglinde, and the song was "Come

Share the Dream."  She shared her dream with two newcomers that evening, and

it's been alive for us ever since.





Subject: My Magic Moment

From: Mark Wallace <blackfox.mwal at webzone.net>

To: Ansteorra Digest <ansteorra at eden.com>

Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997 23:04:49 -0500


Greetings unto the members of the list from Master William Blackfox:


        In response to one comment in a previous issue, not all SCA magic moments

involve poor visibility.  They do seem to revolve around bagpipes, though,

don't they?  So does mine.


        Aaaaallllrightee, then.  NSTIW, Pennsic 19, after the thursday evening

bagpipe seminar.  We managed to get about 6 pipers together along with a

motley assembly of drums, bohdrans, dumbeks, etc.  We started marching

around in the general merchanting area and nearby camps.

        Being thursday, the dancers were having their masked ball.  We were all

feeling froggy so we sauntered up to the barn and asked to speak with one of

the dance masters and offered to play for "Road to the Isles".  

        When the Known World Dance Band (gotta hear 'em to appreciate 'em) took 5,

we formed up at the barn door and struck up a short march. We filed in like

we had been doing it for years, then peeled apart into a "concert formation"

which was basically a line facing into the dance floor.  I was struck by the

fact that there were several lights that happened to spread out just where

we were standing and we certainly didn't feel like the motley crew we must

have appeared to be.

        With a quiet count-off, I started our little troup into "Scotland the

Brave" and thrilled to the sight of dozens of couples rushing into place and

starting in unison.  We played about 8 times through, falling closer and

closer into sync as the dancers jumped and shouted and pranced to the sound

of our pipes and drums.  I swear that I could feel the mutual air of pride

and joy among our entire troupe.  When I signalled to stop and we cut off

together, the roof went up from the cheers.  

        With a simple command, I called the troup to play the outgoing tune and we

marched into our original columns and out the door to another howling of

cheers. We had to come back to the door for one more bow.

        I don't know how to describe the feeling when half a dozen guys from the

ends of the earth get together and make beautiful music with such effect.

Sadly, nothing like this has recurred in my experience.

        Magic times are just that.  


Yours in service,




To: "Ansteorra Mailing List" <ansteorra at eden.com>

From: "Vicki Marsh" <zarazina at flash.net>

Subject: Re: Magic Moments

Date: Tue, 24 Jun 97 09:21:59 PDT


> All of us who participate in the SCA have at one time or another experinced

> a magic moment, a point where we witness something so special that it will

> stay with us forever.


Greetings, Sir Burke,


I have so very many special moments that it is difficult to select one or two. But I will try...


I have witnessed  lots of special times, but the ones that stand out are those that I was personally involved in the making of.


At Dragon's Fire Tor two years ago, I played the harp and sang a lullaby written by HL Mot Cather.  The bardic fire was beautiful, glinting off the strings of the harp.  The valley was quiet and cool in the mist of the evening.  The words and the notes from the harp came from me, but were not mine in the making.  It was like being able to watch it from afar.  When the song finished, the audience was quiet, then they all sighed at once.  Turning to my love, Llywelyn, I was surprised to see the tears in his eyes matched those in mine.


At a Byrn Gwlad Baronial Championship several years ago, I was involved in a Thomas of Tenby presentation of Beowolfe.  Prior to the actual performance, we had several rehearsals to prepare for the event.  One night, under a full moon, in Thomas and Clare's backyard, we did a complete run-through.  It was in regular clothes, with the lights and sounds of the city around us, but we were transported to a time before time.  The full moon, the harp, the drum, the telling of the story in Old English.....everything.  It was awesome.  When the time came for the actual performance at the event, the wind which had been blowing incessantly, stopped.  The clouds parted for the moon to shine upon us and the firelight danced upon the dragon banner.  At the end, when the story finished and the last note of harp and drum sounded, no one could speak or breathe for a moment.  The small audience was frozen in time, many with tears shed and unshed in their eyes.


I have been very blessed with memories such as these, as well as the honor to be

involved in the making of them with my friends.


Thank you, Burke, for the asking,


Zara Zina



Date: Wed, 25 Jun 1997 01:24:57 -0500 (CDT)

From: Heidi J Torres <hjt at tenet.edu>

To: Ansteorran Mailing List <ansteorra at eden.com>

Subject: Magic Moments


Greetings from Mari!


Interesting topic.  This is one my friends and I have been discussing at

great length for several years now.


Probably the climax of all "magic moments" for me occurred at a Bjornsborg

event (Fall Court, I think) a few years back when Thomas of Tenby directed and

performed "The Battle of Maldon" around a campfire.


As is usual in many of Thomas' performances, the performers were

stationed around and within the circle.  The quality of the performance

was such that you were immediately caught up within it.  I cannot tell

you the words every one spoke, but I still remember the firelight, the

ring of their voices, the stillness of the rapt listeners -- who in

hearing had become participants.


I honestly felt their voices vibrating within me.  I wager that everyone

else at that fire did as well.  Thomas and his players swept us all up

into their performance and their world, caught up our senses then pulled

them so taut they could play our emotions like strings.


At the end of the piece, the crescendo of battle peaks and crashes, there

is a moment of silence, then -- I still have this memory so clearly -- I

can see Ragnar, the victorious Viking chieftain, his great axe hung over

his shoulder, and hear his soft, gravelly voice saying "Row, men, row.  

The monks of Ely (?) sing of their dead.  Let us row and listen

awhile....." And at that moment, Robyn Solarius' angelic voice rose from

the woods, pure and sweet, singing an old chant.  The players all pulled

back into the darkness, leaving Robyn alone by a torch, shining like a

candle flame and singing, until he too stepped back and trailed off, like

a candle going out.


The hair was standing up on the back of my neck and I don't think anyone

was breathing.


There were this long, incredible moment of silence -- none of us who had

heard and were a part of it wanted it to end -- as if everyone's breath

was indrawn, waiting; then, I don't remember how, the howling and

cheering and clapping started and I don't know how it ended.  Everyone

around me -- Athena, Galen Nicolli, Rognvald -- had tears running down

their faces.


To me, the world is often divided into those of us who were there that

night, and those who weren't.  I'm not sure those who weren't will ever

comprehend what it felt like, but I hope another chance comes along.  And

I will always bless Thomas for my chance.


Mari ferch Rathtyen



From: Mjccmc01 at aol.com

Date: Tue, 24 Jun 1997 13:31:02 -0400 (EDT)

To: ansteorra at eden.com

Subject: Re: Magic Moments


My most magic moment came at Pennsic one year.


I was in the camp of the Norselanders, a subgroup that does exclusively Norse

personna, and does it superbly.  We were sitting around a campfire in their

encampment, not a formal bardic, just general chatting.


A fight broke out among two of the younger men of the group about (of course)

a woman.  At one point in the discussion, one man called the other a fool.

The other man replied, "What is wisdom, anyway?"  


At this point, Gunnar, the leader of  group and a very large individual,

leapt up, went _through_ the fire, picked up the second man by his tunic,

pulled him up to his face, and proclaimed, "Wisdom is what Odin gave his eye

for," and dropped the offending young man, and immediately launched into a

recitation of a saga.


My retelling of this moment cannot possibly capture the scene, but for just a

moment, I got a glimpse about what a completely foreign culture (both time

and place) must have been like.  I've often thought I learned more in that

moment that in hours in a library, not factual knowledge about what the Norse

ate, drank, wore, etc., but a far more intangible knowledge about how they

viewed their world.






From: Tyrca at aol.com

Date: Mon, 30 Jun 1997 12:43:59 -0400 (EDT)

To: ansteorra at eden.com

Subject: Magic Moments


   I have a couple of things to share.  I started playing in the SCA in a

very small place that still isn't even a shire, just a couple of contact

people. As almost all of us were newcomers, we had get-togethers that taught

us courtly graces and basic costuming.  But the time came for my first "real"


   We drove 4 hours to Salt Lake City (Barony of Loch Salann) to attend the

Outlands Investure (yes, that long ago, when Outlands was still a

principality, and Artemisia was a twinkle in Atenveldt's eye).  It was the

investure of Robert and Leah as Prince and Princess, and they held it in an

historic church next to the State Capitol.  It was wonderful.  We sat on pews

with a large center aisle, and up front, the altar had been moved aside for

the thrones of the prince and princess.

   It was all so amazing to me, in my first attempt at a T-tunic.  The

herald calling individuals, the processions up to aisle to the throne, the

shouts of acclaim.  And then the newly-invested Prince Robert called Master

Gunvaldt into court.  In he came like a great golden bear, with his hair

french-braided to the middle of his back, his long golden beard forked in the

front, the representation of any Dwarf.  As he came forward, the herald

regaled the populace with Gunvaldt's accomplishments, and then read the

glorious words of the scroll of a Lion of Atenveldt.  And then my friend who

brought me to this wonderous event wiped tears from her eyes and explained

the significance of a Lion.  I found that I was crying too, without knowing



   After an introduction like that, what could I do, but continue in our



   And from another side, I have another memory.  We were in Drachenwald,

and it was the first event that Thorgierr and I attended as Tanist and

Tanista. We were in the Caer Philly castle in Wales, and I was at head

table. We had no court planned, but wanted to give some largess and

recognition, so we asked the local seneschal to identify for us their newest

individuals that were showing excellent efforts in both arts and deportment.

With this information, we had the herald call forth a man and wife that had

only been in the Society for 3 months, and were as well acoutered as any in

the hall.  We presented them with a plate that we made ourselves with the

Dragon of Drachenwald on it.

   And I began to understand the joy of surprise recognition from the other

side of the court.  The looks on their faces made all the effort and bad

politics worthwhile.


Lady Tyrca Ivarsdottir

Barony of Namron



From: sharra2 at aol.com (Sharra2)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: 2 Apr 1998 08:02:59 GMT


"sunshinegirl" <sunshinegirl at steward-net.com> writes:


>I am interested in collecting stories about special moments in the SCA.

>They might be "living the dream" memories or "Suddenly I was really in the

>1400's" etc.


Waking up at Estrella to a lone piper on top of the hill.  There was a low fog

swirling and the entire park looked like I could have been at a real medieval

tournament. All the cars were hidden and you could just see the peaks of the

bigger pavilions.



Triaria de La Riviere

Flagstaff, AZ

Sharra2 at aol.com



From: Dana Tweedy <tweedy at mail.cvn.net>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Thu, 02 Apr 1998 10:16:33 -0800


sunshinegirl wrote:

> I am interested in collecting stories about special moments in the SCA.

> They might be "living the dream" memories or "Suddenly I was really in the

> 1400's" etc.

> As an example, one of my special moments came at a weekend war that the

> Canton of Summergate sponsored many years ago.  It was at Poway Riding

> Stables, in San Diego County.  The site had a valley surrounded by small

> hills.  In the valley, we had a wooden castle set up for the castle

> battles.  There were banners flying from the castle towers.  I was on one

> hill, watching the battle below.  I glanced across the valley at another

> hill and caught my breath.  Duke Armand, in full Chain, was on his horse,

> also with barding, watching the battle below.  Something about that scene

> has stayed with me for over a decade now.  It was truly a very special

> moment for me, a vision of Knighthood made real.

> So, What is Your "special moment"?

> Melandra of the Woods


  I remember an early spring event where it was cold outside, and I was inside

the Hall near the fire, listening to the converrsations and sining around me..

The wind was blowing thorugh the crack in the doors and for a brief moment, I

could imagine that there were wolves ouside in the woods.  I found myself

feeling sorry for any poor travelers who hadn't found shelter that night.

Suddenly I realized I was at a camp in Southen PA and there hadn't been any

wolves in the area for 200 years.   The feeling lasted only a few seconds, but

it was eerie but thrilling at the same time.


                                                Karl Rasmussen of Tvede



From: hrjones at uclink.berkeley.edu (Heather Rose Jones)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: 2 Apr 1998 18:22:11 GMT

Organization: University of California, Berkeley


sunshinegirl (sunshinegirl at steward-net.com) wrote:

: I am interested in collecting stories about special moments in the SCA.

: They might be "living the dream" memories or "Suddenly I was really in the

: 1400's" etc.


I think the one that still stands out most vividly in my mind -- even

after a decade or more -- was a Sunday morning at an event in the northern

"fog-belt" of the California coast. The camp was just beginning to stir;

the rising mist blurred the edges of everything outside immediate view;

and out in a grassy field, a group of children -- all dressed in

wonderfully ordinary everyday medieval clothing -- were playing a game of

tag. I felt like I'd stepped into a Breughel painting.


For me, it's never the outstanding, dramatic, heroic moments that take my

breath away -- it's those ordinary, everyday moments when you feel the

eternal connection with what makes people people when all the modern

accoutrements are stripped away.


Tangwystyl verch Morgant glasvryn



From: DDFr at best.com (David Friedman)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Thu, 02 Apr 1998 10:59:44 -0800

Organization: Santa Clara University


"sunshinegirl" <sunshinegirl at steward-net.com> wrote:

>So, What is Your "special moment"?


The crown tournament that Asbjorn eventually won ran out of light while we

were still in the first fight of the finals. The finals were continued

twice--I think I calculated later that the three fights ran to four and a

half hours--we knew each other pretty well. The final bout was held on

Staten Island, in a field near the sea, with Angus (then King), Duke

Akbar, the two of us and a few others. There was nothing modern around,

just fields, trees, perhaps the sea in the distance, and a few people in

period garb. I remember walking out towards the fight through the field.

Akbar was some distance ahead of me, and I was walking after him for some

reason--to kill him, to bring him some news, I didn't know what, but I

felt as though I was suddenly in the middle of one of the Icelandic sagas.





From: bellatrix2 at aol.com (Bellatrix2)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: 3 Apr 1998 04:00:58 GMT


   There are so many stories and events that make me feel as if the world we

recreate is real.  My childhood goals dreams and memories were not thoseof the

modern child.  I have related myself in many ways to the child of the medieval

world who growa up working toward knighthood, having the desire to make a name

for themself and aspiring to be king.


  I attained those goals and the times were so real and life fullfilling that I

could not even explain.  There are also battles and chivalric acts galore that

stand out and the bardic circles that have transported me back are too numerous

to list (later).  Of all those that have been so important to me there is one

that stands out the most, and although it starts in combat that is not  the

moment alone.


   I bring you you to March Crown AS XXIV, in the Kingdom of the West.  I was

facing Sir Drew Fortesque.  I had lost to him ealrier in the day.  The first

two bouts were split.  We faced each other for the final bout and I turned to

my Lady Niobe.  I had been inspired the entire day by her, but for some reason

this time it felt different.  I lost the second fight because I said to myself

that if I win I will be King.  This time I saw the love and support she felt

and saw her mouth the words "I Love You."  At that moment I was transported to

another time.  I was facing a long time friend and one of would fall, and one

of our ladies would soon be Queen.  The Bout went on for oonly a few moments.

The Final blow launched and before it landed I knew the outcome.  As Drew fell

I dropped and felt my lady behind me.  I rose and kissed her.  The area was

misting and the hills were a wet green.  No mundanities were in view.  The

wreath was handed to me and I was placing the wreath on Niobe's brow, and I

could not help think about that child who dreamed of Knighthood and of someday

being King.  The one thing, though that the child never dreamnt of was finding

his true love.





From: mok at mdi.net

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Fri, 03 Apr 1998 01:55:13 -0600


"sunshinegirl" <sunshinegirl at steward-net.com> wrote:

> I am interested in collecting stories about special moments in the SCA.

> They might be "living the dream" memories or "Suddenly I was really in the

> 1400's" etc.


Every year at Pennsic I get the same chance for this experience to happen, and

after eight years it has never failed to sustain me untill the next year.

Standing in line before the start of the great field battle. It is the most

incredible feeling that has ever come over me. To be in the company of your

comrades in arms, to hear the chink of mail and the slap of plate. The smell

of the mown grass and the leather and sweat. To gaze across the field and see

the "enemy" with painted shields and a forest of pike waving in the still

morning air. Pennons fluttering, the standards of all the great houses and

kingdoms. The jests of soldiers, the shouts of commanders trying to get their

lines into some semblence of order. That feeling that I get when the two

minute warning is up....it starts in my toes and seems to go straight to

Walhalla...everything seems to feel and look and sound and smell so much

sharper and clearer...I have never been so alive in my life at that point, and

every year, without fail it becomes more and more. This is a dream i have

searched for all of my life and finally found, and I count myself so blessed

because of it.


Lord Cruaddon

AKA Crow




From: Reed <"mihaloew" at mitre.org (A. Reed Mihaloew)>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Fri, 03 Apr 1998 08:40:49 -0500


> So, What is Your "special moment"?

> Melandra of the Woods


I've had several "special moments" over the years.  


The first one I remember was in my first fighting Pennsic (VIII).  We

were marching out to fight the woods battle, with a piper skirling in

the lead, the populace cheering us on.  I was wearing armor, bearing

sword and shield, my helm pushed back on my head.  If I looked ahead or

behind, I saw an armored host marching two by two on a dirt road--to

either side was nothing but a medieval-looking (to my glasses-less eyes

at least :-) crowd.  For just a second, I felt like the whole thing was

"real"--that I had been trasnported in time.  An amazing thing!  I get

(literally) goosebumps remembering it. (I have goosebumps *now* just

writing about it! :-)


For the others, perhaps another day...


Rolin Thurmundsson

       mka Reed Mihaloew



From: Storm <tjhortman at earthlink.net>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Fri, 03 Apr 1998 08:08:04 -0700


> So, What is Your "special moment"?

> Melandra of the Woods


It was in a small mountain park with a shelter resembling a hunting

lodge. A few of us had arrived just before sunrise to set up for the

day. The horizon to our left was a glory of color but much of the slope

before us and to our right was still in shadow. Mist rose from the

slanted pocket meadow just below us. The smell of wildflowers, grass and

pine was rich and sweet. My lord came up behind me and wrapped me

in his cloak as we watched a small herd of deer, including a magnificent

stag, step from the woods and wander, breakfasting, across the grass.

A pair of hawks spiraled above us. No modern intrusions disturbed us. It

was the perfect opening for a day of hunting games, questing, feasting,

dancing, singing and storytelling.





Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

From: ojirelan at localhost

Subject: Re: special moments

Organization: Xerox

Date: Fri, 3 Apr 1998 18:53:35 GMT


>So, What is Your "special moment"?


I'll give you two:


The first Coronet of AEthelmearc was held during Hurricane Hugo at a

4-H camp just outside of Rochester NY.  The camp had unheated cabins and

a large dining hall with a huge fireplace at one end.


During the feast, we had shut the window shutters due to the cold and wet.

We had a large fire going in the fireplace and the only light was from that

and the candles on the table.  Several people had brought their dogs to the

event - between the lighting, the dogs and children running around the hall,

period music being played, and general conversation, I was transported back

to a medieval hall during a dinner or feast.


To top it off, the next morning we came into the hall for breakfast and

found rows of sleepers curled up near the fireplace, dogs too.


My second was the Pennsic where I was 8 months pregnant with my second child.

For some reason, I was much more connected to Orianna that Pennsic and I think

being pregnant and mostly confined to camp did it.  One night, (as is usual with

being that pregnant) I had to get up to use the privy.  As I was walking

back down the hill to camp, I had the oddest feeling of no longer being

in the 20th century - I was barefoot, wearing a loose gown with a shawl thrown

over it, it was moonlit and quiet...it was wonderful!






Date: Sat, 04 Apr 1998 21:05:53 +0200

From: Jan Frelin <jan.frelin at wineasy.se>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments


At the Visby medieval fair some 7 or 8 years ago, my lady and myself was

walking along the town wall (in garb, as almost always during the fair).

As we walked down the path, we met five or so knights from one of the

jousting groups, as they were trodding towards the jousting fields for

the night. Without speaking, my lady and I stepped aside and bowed. A

very eerie feeling ensued...


Hartmann Rogge                          Holmrike, Nordmark, Drachenwald

Jan Frelin                                      Stockholm, Sweden

jan.frelin at wineasy.se



From: "Chris K. Hepburn" <chepburn at calcna.ab.ca>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments

Date: Sat, 18 Apr 1998 11:07:17 -0600

Organization: Calgary Community Network Assoc.


I've had many, many special SCA moments and most of them seem to have

happened at Clinton War...


One of them happened at my first Clinton.  I was waterbearing during the

war and at one point I looked over to see a lord in armour apparently

battling the world's largest dust devil.  The cone of this thing must


stretched a hundred feet up and there was this guy  right in the middle of

it. I'm certain the only thing that kept him from being carried away was

the weight of his plate mail!  The dust devil moved on to suck a couple of

sun hats right up into the sky.  I still remember the way they slowly

circled each other as they ascended into the heavens...and then the crows

attacked them.  Quite a surreal moment.


Another Clinton a few years later it had rained all weekend.  Pretty much

solid, grey, cold.  I found out too late I had parked my tent right beside

a giant ant mound.  And the rain caused all the residual horse puckey to

float around my door.  And of course my tent leaked like a seive.

Merchant sales were down, I was really poor, and everyone around me was

cranky because of the rain.  I had brought only canned goods to eat and

had forgotten my can opener at home.  So in this pathetic state I remember

wandering up the main road one morning searching for some way I could get

something warm (and hopefully caffeinated) to drink.  I wandered by a

sturdy tent and a voice beckoned me to enter.  A man, whose name

unfortunately I forget, sat me down and gave me coffee and listened

patiently while I explained my woes.  It was such a small act for him to

do, yet it cheered me immensely.  


And the third magic moment (yes, I know I'm rambling) is *any* camping

event at night.  It's too dark to see the cars, the blue tarp pavilions,

the Reeboks.  A sea of shadily lit pavilions stretches on into darkness.

Someone's playing one of those belly dancing drums, the dancers are

spinning, sparkling in the torchlight.  Someone hands me a cup of

homebrewed mead.  The stars overhead are more brilliant than they ever

could be in any city.  There is an intangible sense of "otherness", a kind

of magic that seems unreal in the light of day.  This, to me, is what the

SCA is all about.



Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 13:26:01 -0500

From: Berwyn <lordberwyn at ibm.net>

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Subject: Re: special moments


RMorrisson wrote:

> Greetings from Myfanwy!

> Mine was the Pennsic (I don't remember which number) the "chalk"

> horse that someone had made with sheets the night before.


That would have been 21, the year before I got to go. From reading the

descriptions here on the Rialto at the time, I could almost feel I was

there, although my first Pennsic was 23.


   My magic moment came last year at Warriors and Warlords in Osseo, WI.

Two things will help you understand this tale.  There is a Mistress of

the Laurel, Mistress Morganna bro Morganwyg, who is a renowned story

teller. There is also a household of fearsome visage, called Shadewes

Company, lead by the Big Bad Visigoth, Olaf Blodhox.


Now it came to pass that one evening, Mistress Morganna happened into

Shadewes camp, where the fierce warriors sat around the fire quaffing

great horns of ale. The crowd became silent as the old woman began to

speak, and sat in rapt attention as she spun her tales of the Norse

gods, and of the bringing of light into the world.  The real world faded

away and the past came to life in the circle of flickering firelight

illuminating the faces of those listening to the wisdom of the elder.

And when the woman had finished her tale, the mighty warlord Olaf knelt

weeping at her feet.





From: Jay Rudin <rudin at ev1.net>

Date: July 18, 2007 10:23:45 AM CDT

To: "Kingdom of Ansteorra - SCA, Inc." <ansteorra at lists.ansteorra.org>

Subject: Re: [Ansteorra] Help with a project (favorite SCA stories)


I had joined the Barony of the Steppes, and was fencing, performing, and a

few other things, but didn't really understand the SCA yet.  I had talked

to the Knight Marshal, Master Lloyd von Eaker, about starting to fight

heavy, but had never actually made it to a fighter practice.


Then came Steppes Warlord, our big tournament.  The morning of the list,

Master Lloyd came up to me and said, "You've said you wanted to start

fighting. We've got 23 fighters in the list.  Would you like to make it an

even number?"


This was the seventies, and there was no such thing as "authorization" in

Ansteorra. I said yes, and they found me some armor.  Squire William of

Weir gave me two minutes of shield practice, and I was called to the

tournament field, my first time in armor, having never actually swung a

sword before, to face...  His Royal Highness, Count Jonathan De Laufyson,

the Crown Prince of Ansteorra.  There's only one fighter in Ansteorra who

has ever won Crown tourney, and he's done it twice.


He was very polite.  He let me throw a bunch of blows, then he threw one

... to the leg.  You know all that lovely leg armor we wear now?  I didn't

have any of that.  I think I screamed.


I got on my knees, he threw away his shield, and then he killed me.


I walked off the field in pain and sweat, feeling stupid and miserable and

confused -- and worse yet, it was double elimination and I had to do it

again. And I had no reason to.  I was hot, embarrassed, and in great pain.

I was wondering why I was there, and considering getting in the car and

going home.


And then a messenger came over to me -- the Crown Princess wished to see



I was scared to death.  The Crown Princess didn't know me from Adam's off

ox. She only knew two things about me:


1. I have just tried to kill her husband, and


2. I was appallingly bad at it.


I didn't know the protocol. I had no idea what I had done wrong; I was

quite certain that I hadn't done anything right.  So I walked over to her,

scared, confused, and lost.


I bowed to her, awkwardly (thereby exhausting my entire store of courtly



Her Royal Highness, Princess Willow de Wisp, having seen my miserable

excuse for a fight, told me, "My lord, I saw that you faced my lord in

combat, even without having practiced before.  I know that he can only earn

glory because there are those who have the courage to face him, and I thank

you for that.


"I also saw that when they called the fighters to salute their ladies, you

had no one to salute.  Will you do me the honor of carrying this my favor

for the remainder of the day?"  And she handed me a simple ribbon.  All of

her ladies-in-waiting added their favors as well.  I proudly entered the

list in the second round with seven favors on my belt.


That was more than a quarter of a century ago, and I've fought in many

tourneys since.  I've had my share of victories, won my share of prizes,

and gained my share of glory.


But I have *never* had a victory to match that defeat.



From: Susan <swieland3 at austin.rr.com>

Date: January 20, 2008 4:25:41 PM CST

To: "Kingdom of Ansteorra - SCA, Inc." <ansteorra at lists.ansteorra.org>

Subject: Re: [Ansteorra] Magic Moments


Jay Rudin wrote:

> Imagine two people watching the same fight:

> Person A: Look at that.  Sir John is wearing sneakers.  And Lord James's

> fighting technique is so mundane.

> Person B: Sir John is using Fiore de Liberi's longsword technique, and

> making it work!  And isn't Lord James's fluted armor stunning?

> 1. Who is focused on the 21st century, and who is focused on the  

> period?

> 2. Who will encourage more people to do authentic things?

> 3. Who would you rather listen to?

> 4. Who is having more fun?


Robin, your missive reminded me of a one of my own, "you are there"

moments. It was a Pennsic.  I was fighting in the main battle.  Barn &

Kat were Crown.  The "moment" was a culmination of several moments.  I

had never been in an army before.  But as we stood shoulder to shoulder

before the "Lay on" cannon was fired, there was a roar that began to

sound. It started slowly and engulfed us like a wave.  Sword and shield

folks were yelling and beating their shields.  Spearmen were raising

weapons to the sky and yelling with excitement.  As I joined the

throng, I had several memories pass through my mind;  the previous

evening when we all met with King Barn to discuss tactics;  having armor

inspection from Sir Baden;  reminders from Sir Kein to stay hydrated;

Then the boom from the cannon.  We followed Sir Kein who began running

across the field.  I wasn't Susan anymore and I had forgotten that I

didn't like to run.  I was Damaris of Greenhill, serving in the

Ansteorran Army and my goal was to help my comrades in arms, take the

hill. Alas I was one of the expendable ones.  But the "moment" will

always be with me.


I don't remember if I even saw anything mundane.  I was in the

Ansteorran Army.  And I was proud to serve.  It was glorious.


Thanks for reminding me of that time.



Mistress Damaris



From: Susan McMahill <sueorintx at hotmail.com>

Date: January 20, 2008 8:03:17 PM CST

To: "ansteorra at ansteorra.org" <ansteorra at ansteorra.org>

Subject: [Ansteorra] Magic and favorite events


Magic is what you believe with your heart, not neccessarily with your eyes. Personally, I find magic in virtually every event I attend. It may be only a moment or two, but it is there, no matter how 'mundane' the site.


I will celebrate the sixth anniversary of my first SCA events this year and I love the 'game' now as much or more than I did the first time I went to an event. My heart and mind CHOOSE to make each event magic, whether others see it that way is their problem.


In the long history of this organization, we have grown in so many ways. No longer do our fighters use carpet armor and freon can helms. Our safety record is amazing considering the kinds of game we play. Fighting has changed. Armor has changed. There are reasons for this. Once upon a time, fighting was 'real.' People got hurt, sometimes seriously. My own Lord was a victim of these days when he took a blow to the knees back when knees were not protected by hardened knee cops. As a result, he had surgery and had months of convalesence and has not been able to fight for many years because of the damage done. I am glad to see the improvements.


I don't get a chance to watch as much fighting as I would like, often because I am on the archery range, marshalling. The fighting I do see, however, doesn't look particularly unreal to me. I still hold my breath when a shot looks particularly hard or seems to cause a fighter more than a routine bruise, and cheer (at least inwardly) when both fighters rise and shake hands and leave the field as friends. This is magic.


I love the A & S displays. Wow! what amazing abilities some of our friends have. I want to learn it all, but know that I don't have the time, discipline, money, or skill....Magic...it's here, too.


Watching as a gentleman, without a word, picks up or takes a burden from a lady. Perhaps she is new enough to not even have her AoA, and he a knight or duke or a typical teen also without being asked, offers to help set up a pavilion or serve a feast....these are magic.


I have dined with the King and Queen as the guest of the newly appointed Royal Huntsman...WOW!!! that was a magic moment!!! How many people sup with a Queen and share child-rearing and childhood stories. It's been three years and I still am amazed!


I have watched as my friends were called before their sovereigns and were awarded rank, precedence, and honor. I can't think of anything more magical than that....unless it has been getting that summons myself. Each time it has happened, I have been awed, overwhelmed, swept up and away....Yep...magic.


Each Coronation that I have been able to attend, I cry with sadness at the departure of the old Crown and weep with joy at the crowning of the Heirs as they take the Sable Thrones. The Lion's challenge, The Roses welcoming their new member, The releasing and renewing of the fealty of the Knights and Peers.....I often shed a tear at each. If this isn't magic, I don't know what you would call it.


I have met the most amazing people. Count Simon and His lovely Countess, Tessa. Sir Karl and Mistress Kasilda, Master Don Robin of Gilwel, Master Modius and Countess Sara, HL Jean Paul de Calmont, HL Moreg (who sadly has moved to Meridies) Count Gunthar, I could count people by the hundreds and still have more to mention. Most of them, I only see at events somewhere far from our home, or theirs. This is the only chance we often have to catch up on each other's lives, both SCA and modern. I'm sorry if our chat of life outside the SCA disrupts the ambiance for some, but quite honestly, tough! Mostly we talk of things that have been going on around us, but we do share things about our non SCA lives, too. If it takes that little to 'ruin' things for some folks...well they need to re-evaluate what the SCA is about.


A couple of years ago, I met my knight in shining armor. He may not be in armor anymore, but he is a Knight and he shines with all the light in the world for me. Sharing the dream together is definitely magic. Finding a soulmate is magic. Being proposed to at your first Gulf War and having a shooting star slice the sky during court immediately afterwards...magic.


And finally, at the close of every court, having my heart swell with love and pride...Long live the Queen, Long live the King, and Long Live ANSTEORRA!!!! 100% pure unadulterated magic.


Lyneya de Grey.



From: Fernando Vigil <fvigil at AOL.COM>

Date: December 18, 2009 11:06:19 AM CST

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu

Subject: [CALONTIR] Medieval Moments


Close to three decades ago, I attended the 10th Pennsic War.

Pennsic was a bit different back then. It was essentially a weekend event with all the activities happening on Saturday and Sunday. We fought on the Runstone Hill (though it did not come to be called that until after that year, which is when the rune stone was presented.); the archery field was down by the lake; and we parked on what is now the Sarengetti. But this wasn't just a foreign war - it was THE war.

In any case, I was sick (I found out when I got home that I had mono) and spent my war either wandering in a daze, or in front of a roaring fire wearing every stitch of clothing I had, wrapped in a sleeping bag, and shivering.

On Saturday night however I decided to walk the circuit of the camp just as a fog came down. As I came over Runestone Hill, the fog thickened and the tents (remember this is way before almost anyone had a pavilion) became nothing more than outlines or shadows, with tiny pockets of light from tiki torches.

Everything came together at that moment.

I remember the smells - bread cooking at the Sated Tiger (the first commercial food enterprise at the war), over the smell of wood smoke.

The sounds - to one side someone was fixing armor and the tink tink tink of the hammer came in. On the other side a group was singing in the distance. And as partway through my walk a bagpipe started playing (the first time I had ever heard on at an event) and the fog and the hills made it difficult to even be sure where it was coming from.

During that moment there was no sign of the modern world. Maybe it was my fever induced stupor. Or maybe it was a teenagers imagination. But it truly felt like I was actually in a medieval city.

I had heard the term medieval moment before, but that was the first time I experienced one.

Despite the misery of being sick, you can bet I did not miss that next Pennsic. Or the one after that, or the, well you get the idea....

So have you experienced a medieval moment?  A point were things seemed to come together for you to generate a moment (or longer) of coolness?


From: "Eowyth (Tiffany Parrett)" <tiffparrett at GMAIL.COM>

Date: December 18, 2009 11:18:58 AM CST

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] Medieval Moments


On Fri, Dec 18, 2009 at 11:06 AM, Fernando Vigil ‪<fvigil at aol.com>‬ wrote:

<<< So have you experienced a medieval moment?  A point were things seemed to come together for you to generate a moment (or longer) of coolness?

Fernando >>>


I have...


It was at the William Marshall event this past May.  Angharad and Etienne were kind enough to allow me the use of their little wedge tent so that I would be allowed to camp on the "period" side of the trees.  And thanks to our coordination with Wayne of the Heights and Equestrian Marshals, a couple of us were lucky enough to have our equines camping with us...


My little wedge was set up right next to the post that Kacey was tied to.  I remember settling in one evening, after a long day of helping coordinate fun equestrian activities and a few drinks with friends.  Needless to say, I was exhausted.


I cuddled up in my sheepskin rugs, and fell asleep to the sounds of the campfire & revelry not too far away and the gentle munching of hay right outside my tent and across the way (Sir Saito was camped next to me with his 4 equines.) The gentle huff and munch of a horse contentedly eating his dinner is music to my ears (for those that don't know me. lol.)


Being an equestrian, we don't often get those opportunities to experience the fullness of a medieval event - but that evening, I most definitely did.  I will always hold that feeling in my heart.


-Eowyth þa Siðend



From: "<Eadweard Boicewright>" <boicewright at AOL.COM>

Date: December 18, 2009 1:31:53 PM CST

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] Medieval Moments


In a message dated 12/18/2009 12:04:09 P.M. Central Standard Time, stew31r at YAHOO.COM writes:

<<< So have you experienced a medieval moment?  A point were things seemed to come together for you to generate a moment (or longer) of coolness?

Fernando >>>


It was a few years ago, Giles, one originally from Calontir, won the crown of Drachenwald.  He had the good fortune of attending Lilies as Prince and boldly announced in Court, " If you happen to be in York two weeks from now, come to our Coronation.  We'll pay your site fee."  Our house mate decided that this was a great idea and made arrangements for the two of us to make the journey. How that occurred is a totally different story.


The event was held on a nicely secluded site, scout camp if I remember correctly. The Coronation was to be a torch light Ceremony, held after dark. With the setting being in the English Midlands, in late June, Sunset did not occur until after 1030 PM.  Torches, Candles and fire barrels were the only light that could be seen at 11 PM when the transfer of power commenced.

After Court was adjourned by the new Monarchs most of the people moved to the clearing in the woods where a nice fire had been started hours before.  We had found a place to sit upon some stumps and enjoyed the lively conversations that ensued, cementing bonds with new comrades of distant lands.  In a lull of the conversation my ears started to pick up the background sounds of different accents floating in the air; the Queen's English, Irish, French, German, Swedish and Danish.  As I turned my head to look over to the fire I was transported back 500 to 600 years.

Kneeling on the ground, back lit by the flames of the fire, were two men engaged in lively discussion, sketching troop movements in the sand.  While 4 or 5 others stood about in wrapped interest adding their comments.  Each voice tinted with the accent of their homeland, as it might have occurred many times long ago.


Date: Sat, 26 Dec 2009 11:38:20 +1100

From: Zebee Johnstone <zebeej at gmail.com>

Subject: Re: [Lochac] Alternative membership ideas

To: Melina Hall <melinahall at optusnet.com.au>,    "The Shambles: the SCA

        Lochac mailing list" <lochac at lochac.sca.org>


I recall an evening in a tent at Tara where a man in a white Friar's

robe was taking a service that could have been somewhere in the more

pagan parts of 7thC England as he preached about how to keep your

faith in a world that wasn't Christian, A gaggle of tuniced saxon

types hung around the door and across the green  the raucous tavern

noises were counterpoint to the simple ancient message.  Combine that

with the glorious soaring music of a thousand years later sung at

points during the service and I had one of the most amazing

experiences of my SCA life as I felt history and the Church entwine in

the lives of people hundreds of years dead and right beside me and

felt I was living in a magical place, a magic I had never thought to

find in the SCA again as I was too old and jaded.


Now that man showed up to one event.  As far as I know he's done

nothing else in the SCA.  But his presence and his words and the

things done that wouldn't have been there but for him gave more to me

that evening then almost any other single person at a single point in

time in my SCA career.


Maybe another "just to Festival" type will come next year and

transport me again for a golden moment.



- who doesn't go to many events and probably doesn't enrich that many

experiences when she does.  After all in the enriching experience

stakes I bet most would take a good cook over a fencer any day!



From: Liz Orwig <elady1 at SUDDENLINK.NET>

Date: May 10, 2010 1:18:48 PM CDT

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] Some Moments in the SCA


One of the neatest things I saw recently was a knight called into court who was still in his full battle regalia.  Helm included.  After disarming to the guard posted at the door of the assembly hall, he removed his helm, tucked it under his arm and proceeded to stop halfway down the aisle, then bow.  Then, asked permission to approach further.  Since he had been called into court, I found this odd, but knew it to be entirely period for him.  He never made eye contact once knelt in front of their majesties, but kept his head lowered.  It was eery. But it was so neat to see.  



Barony of Blackstone Mountain, Aethelmearc

Formerly of Axed Root, Calontir



From: Bruce Lapham <murdochst at MSN.COM>

Date: May 10, 2010 1:42:19 PM CDT

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] Some Moments in the SCA


My story may not truly fit the "period" qualification, but it was definitely a magic moment for me.



My good friend Baron Magnus was to wed Baroness Winnifred at Lilies.  Their families arrived on site to be greeted by mild Lilies weather (just rain, no lightning or tornados).  


As the time for the wedding approached, the family grew more nervous.  The rain continued and soon lightning began to fire in the distance.  We waited, hoping that things would change and the sun would peak its head out.


Eventually it was decided.  Today would be a wedding day, weather be damned.


Magnus' "men" limbed aboard the long ship, with Magnus standing at the bow. We rowed out close to the point and waited.


Here's where the "magic moment" starts to come in.


Magnus raised a horn to his lips and let blow a call to shore.  The reply came, and we knew that all was well.  We would be greeted as friends.


The rain fell lightly on our backs as we bent over the oars.  Magnus stood proud at the bow, surveying the land as we approached.  With a might pull, the boat lurched forward the last bit and drug to a stop on the shore.  We lept into the water and drug the boat up the bank.


At that moment, a miracle...the rain faded, the sun shone, it was as if God smiled down on the betrothed.


Words were spoken.  A song was sung.  Then, Magnus and Winnifred swore their oaths. Being the only one of education amongst those assembled, I translated into the common language so all could know the words that were spoken.


With those oaths sworn, the couple was blessed.  All assembled welcomed them with applause.  



Needless to say, I don't think there is anything cooler than rowing a viking boat through the mist and rain.





Date: Mon, 10 May 2010 14:10:21 -0400

From: Fvigil at AOL.COM

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] Some Moments in the SCA

To: CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu


Here's another example (though this time we were being periodly jarring on purpose).

Reprinted from a post I wrote last year:

Late on Thursday afternoon at the twenty-third War of the Lilies I happened to walking on the battlefield where I came across the pavilion that had been prepared to house the knighting vigil of H.L. Reimond of Ipstones later that evening.

A glance inside showed the beautiful appointments. Outside was an armor stand holding his harness, sword, and shield, while inside there was a table set with traditional Calontir objects of contemplation. But there was also a trestle table containing a beautiful cross, and a pair of nice chairs, and much to my surprise, and perhaps even horror, a bed!


Quickly I marched up to Reimond's Knight, Sir Halidar - a true peer of ancient blood. Unto him I said, "Brother, how is it that there comes to be a bed in the vigil chamber?" Before the good Knight could respond, I continued, "only the weakest of French Knights would have a bed in their vigil chamber.  I tell you, it is an affront against God himself!"


Of course Sir Halidar, tried to respond in defense of his squire, but in my outrage I turned to several other Knights present and said to them, "Quickly brothers, before this vigil begins we should go to the pavilion and take this bed... and the chairs... and the cup of gold...  and other luxuries... We should remove these base goods and have them sold.  We can then give one half of the proceeds to the Church, and divide the other half among ourselves. It would be the _pious_ thing to do!"


Sir Colin, hearing this turned and said, "But if he is so impious as to have a bed in his vigil chamber, perhaps we should have the goods sold and give _one third_ to the church, saving two thirds to divide among ourselves." But even as we contemplated the brilliant and knightly thinking the virtuous Sir Colin had presented we noticed that the bed was gone from the vigil chamber.


It seems that Duke Tristram had lead his squires forth and to save the soon to be knight from even the appearance of impiety had removed the bed to his own camp.


Moments later we noticed one solitary star appear in the heavens, burning bright as the fire on Reimond's shield. For God in his wisdom had acted through his knights to ensure Reimond's night of testing and rebirth was a pure as the phoenix on his shield. 

We are sure Reimond will be a Knight as good and true as any, and if necessary someday he will join us in stripping such goods from another vigil chamber.



Sir Fernando the Pious....

PS.  If you can't tell this is all in fun: It is.  

The bed was in the pavilion only because Baron Trevor was living in it prior to the vigil, and they did not have a place to move it until His Grace, Tristram offered a tent in his campsite nearby. 

But, as odd as it seems to us, this thing we said as a joke, would have been exactly how some period Knights would have thought (and been praised for acting upon.) Sometimes, 


From: "Miles Grey" <Kahn at West-Point.org>

Date: July 14, 2010 4:20:45 AM CDT

To: "Kingdom of Ansteorra - SCA, Inc." <ansteorra at lists.ansteorra.org>

Subject: Re: [Ansteorra] I have a question


Having spent 4 years in Germany as a kid clambering all over ruins of

medieval castles - they're everywhere - I always had an interest in things

medieval. During college back in 1982 in the East Kingdom, a group of us

attended an event.  We watched the fighting, we asked questions, we danced

courtly dances, we bought things from the merchants.  Day turned into

night and the feast was wonderful.  It was loud and joyous.  Someone

shouted to a man to sing a song.  Sadly, I cannot remember his name right

now, but he demanded cheap red wine as his pay.  Much was proffered.  He

selected one, poured out a goblet, and drank deeply.  And then . . . he

sang. And I was there.  The song was "Catalan Vengeance," and God himself

must have touched the man.  Never has a song been so moving.  I swear the

very ground shook as the French Knights charged, that I was among those

who dispatched the trapped enemy and then plundered their remains to

acquire the pay owed us.


I learned to brew mead.  Honestly, it isn't a lot of fun.  That honey gets

everywhere. Racking and bottling are a pain.  And then you hand a bottle

to someone whose face lights up at the first taste, and you know why you



Mundane life caused me to quit for 20 years.  But when circumstances

removed the obstacles, I joined again.  I bought two carboys and had my

first (dreadful) batch of mead going before I attended my first event.

Try as I might, I cannot brew enough mead.


I've attended good bardic at many events, either formal or informal, at

competitions, in camp, at the Green Dragon, sitting outside the main hall

at Canton at 2 in the morning.  I've listened to many talented bards

perform very well.  But I have yet to hear anything that comes close to

that moment, when in the midst of the noise and revelry of a delightful

feast, someone yelled for a song and for the price of a single goblet of

cheap red wine (burgundy in a gallon jug), we were witness to something

wonderful. Before the first verse was finished, the near-roar of

conversation and laughter was gone completely.  There was utter silence as

he finished.  The cheers and applause came only after several moments of

stunned silence.  I hope to hear a song like that again, but it's possible

that we only get to experience such magic once.


Now I show up at fighter practice and people welcome me.  I arrive at

events and people call my name.  I join the fighters for the battles at

BAM and Gulf War and people tell me they're glad to see me there.  I help

set up or tear down, or serve feast, or do dishes, or help in the kitchen,

things I feel we should all do from time to time, and people thank me for

the help.  I set up a little grill and share some food and people

appreciate it.  I put out a couple spare chairs so others can sit down and

people appreciate it.  I pass around a bottle or two and people appreciate

it. I schlep across site to deliver a message, drop something off, or

retrieve something and people appreciate it.  I'm forgiven when I do

things wrong, laughed at when I'm late again, and always made to feel



I joined the SCA because I got to scramble around ruined medieval castles

as a child.  I'm in the SCA because I belong.


Miles Grey


PS - this question seems to have arisen because of a bit of heat on the

list. In my family, some harsh words, arguments, and a little anger from

time to time were normal.  We remain family.  To me, a list where tempers

didn't flare every now and again would seem incomplete.  It seems to me

that if you don't care enough to get angry sometimes, then you don't care




From: Brendan Talbot <talbaine at hotmail.com>

Date: July 16, 2010 5:31:22 PM CDT

To: <ansteorra at lists.ansteorra.org>

Subject: Re: [Ansteorra] I have a question


Why did I join the SCA?

An interest in history.

Why do I *stay* in the SCA?


(Stay with me here!)


   I refer to moments that happen, not at every event I attend, sometimes not even at most events I attend, but often enough that it keeps me coming back. Moments that transport me from the modern, mundane world, to a different place and time... Sometimes it's the kinda stuff that takes your breath away, sometimes it's the kind of stuff that will thereafter follow the words "No ****, there I was..."


   My first exposure to the SCA was when some friends invited me to an event some 15 years ago. It was a close drive, being held at the recently opened "Castle" in Muskogee. I had no idea what to expect, but made an attempt at garb... a folded over piece of muslin, sewed up the sides, with a neck hole, and a long piece of plaid flannel, wrapped around my waist. After a long day of meeting new people, I was sitting around a campfire with some of my new friends, (Some of whom were drinking something they called "Grizzly Piss", wish I could get ahold of some of THAT!), watching this fellow in a tunic and bermuda shorts, dancing around barefoot and playing the bongos. He stepped on a stick, and cut open his foot. Everything ground to a halt, and the fellow sat down right next to us. He asked for a pull off the bottle, and poured some of it on his foot. He asked if we had anything to bandage it with, and I offered a piece of my "kilt". He bound it around his foot, and hopped up and danced away, picking up his playing where he had left off. I said something to the effect of, "Well, that was interesting, he seemed like a nice guy... Who was he?" and all of my companions kinda stared at me... One of them said, "Oh, that was the King of Ansteorra..."


   More recently, I was walking through the hall at a Northkeephad  event, having a "meh" kind of event. The hall was largely deserted, and I happened to look dawn toward the other end of the hall. Sitting in a ray of sunshine, motes dancing, I saw a young Lady, sittinng quietly, staring out the window. Everything, from her garb, he way she sat, with her hands in her lap, and legs tucked up under her chair, to the sun haloing her hair in copper, was right out of an old master's painting. It breaks my heart that I cannot paint portraits. It was Magical.


So, magic, the magic of moments, is what keeps me coming back... well, that, and all the friends I have made in these last 15 years...


In Service to the Dream,

~Ld. B. Talbot, of Northkeep



From: Bruce Lapham <murdochst at MSN.COM>

Subject: Re: [CALONTIR] CALONTIR Digest - 5 Apr 2011 to 6 Apr 2011 (#2011-94)

Date: April 6, 2011 9:12:42 AM CDT

To: Historical Recreation in the Kingdom of Calontir <CALONTIR at listserv.unl.edu>


Rowing the Yrsa [a reproduction of a Norse knarr - Stefan] in for HE Magnus' wedding was one of those magic moments you live for.  The rain was slowing down.  The sky was hazy.  We heard a horn call in the distance.  We answered the call and rowed to shore while Magnus stood at the prow looking for his betrothed.  




<the end>

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