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.

************************************************************************
NOTICE -

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.

                                    Bronwyn 


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.

Cyrie 
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

<snip>

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
Herskerinde


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
close.

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.

-Katerina


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,
Wm


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.

Fondly,
Siobhan


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"
event.
     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
why. 

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

     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.

Krista
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.

David/Cariadoc


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.

Stephan


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
BMDL


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. 

Wyndylyn


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!

Orianna
AEthelmearc


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
have
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.

Berwyn


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 
me.

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 
protocol).

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.

Regards,
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?
 
Fernando
 
 
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.

Silfren
- 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.  

Erzebet
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.

Murd


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.



Really....

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, 

Fernando


 

 
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
bothered.

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
welcome.

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
enough.


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?
Magic. 
(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.  

Murd

<the end>
Edited by Mark S. Harris	magic-moments-msg	Page 26 of 26