SCA-stories1-msg - 4/27/94

SCA stories related before 5/1/94.

NOTE: See also the files: SCA-stories2-msg, SCA-stories3-msg, SCA-hist1-msg, child-stories-msg, SCA-authors-msg, SCA-notables-msg, you-know-msg, vanity-plates-msg, royal-deaths-msg.

************************************************************************
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
************************************************************************

From: 21464RM%MSU.BITNET at MITVMA.MIT.EDU ("R. Miller")
Date: 25 Nov 89 02:29:16 GMT
Organization: Society for Creative Anachronism

We've never had such problems with our local law enforcement, though
I've heard tell of folks in costume at events on campus running afoul
of local weapons ordinances.  There was once, though, at a tournament
long ago two FBI agents doing a security clearance check on one poor
soul - they were trying to be inconspicuous at the end of the hall in
(no, I'm not kidding) trenchcoats and sunglasses.  Someone tried to
get them to put tunics on, but I don't think it worked.  Amazingly
enough, the security clearance apparently went through...

       Roxanne of Bloekmedwe                :  R. Miller
       Barony of the NorthWoods, Midrealm   :  Okemos, MI

From: sean at ms.uky.edu (Sean Casey)
Date: 25 Nov 89 18:28:54 GMT
Organization: The Leaning Tower of Patterson Office  at  The Univ. of KY

lmacquar at kean.mun.ca writes:

|Tumbling off a bank in fifty pounds of plate is still not a pleasant
|thought, however.  I have heard of fighters who leaped out of trees 
|giving themselves SEVERE knee strains on landing.

When at my first SCA event, I watched a guy in plate lose his balance,
sidestep about 6 feet, do a small pirouette, then fall off a vertical
creek bank about 5 1/2 feet straight down onto a rocky creek bed. He
landed on his back about 20 feet from me.

There was such a *crash* that when everyone yelled "HOLD!" the fighting
had already stopped. People gathered around quickly. Someone pulled his
visor open and asked him if he was OK. He said "Yes, I'm fine, but I
can't get up." So three or four people assisted in levering him to an
upright position, he walked around the bank, and the battle resumed.

I suppose others have been less fortunate when taking a tumble in
armour, but this really amazed me. I guess they don't call it armour for
nothing.

Sean
-- 
***  Sean Casey          sean at ms.uky.edu, sean at ukma.bitnet, ukma!sean
***  Copyright 1989 by Sean Casey. Only non-profit redistribution permitted.
***  "If you'll go to Joe B's, I'll buy. How's that sound?"  "Sounds free!"

From:    Alfgar the Sententious 
To:      Stefen  
04-Dec-89 02:26pm
Subject: Re: farbiling

 >> the truth from the BS - but what the Hel, i like a good
 >> story as well as the next and biker confrontation ones
 >> seem to be our version of the ethnic joke.
 S> Only one or two involved bikers. Some were the mundane mugger 
 S> who in attacking a SCAdian got more than he bargained for. One 
Not a "story"-- This happened to Koppel funem Laksfalk directly after his 
knighting.

 * Origin: Opera=Deorum: Home of Baphonet-by-the-Sea

From:    Dave Aronson                              
To:      Justin du Coeur MKA Mark Waks
05-Dec-89 09:54pm
Subject: Re: Vis and the Serjeant

Unto all the good gentles of the Kingdom (?) of Rialto, I send greetings!
 
 > Now, the gentleman in the tower above them was a worldly sort, who had 
 > encountered emissaries from our Kingdoms before. Noting Vis' inimitable 
 > style, he called down to the Serjeant, "Hey, ask him if he's in something 
 > called the SCA."
 >
 > The Serjeant leaned over to Vis, and shortly yelled back, "He says that 
 > he is. What's that mean?"
 >
 > The fellow in the tower said, "Means you can't beat him."
 >
 > Whereupon Vis tapped the Serjeant on the shoulder, and spoke to him a 
 > moment more. The Serjeant called up to the tower, "He's says he's a 
 > Knight. What's *that* mean?"
>
 > Sayeth the tower, "Means *they* can't beat him, either."

The way I heard it, the gentle was not named, but the conversation went:
 
Tower: "Ask him if he's in the SCA."
 
Sarge: "He says he is.  What's that mean?"
 
T: "It means he knows how to use the thing.  Ask him if he's a knight."
 
S: "He says he is.  What's that mean?"
 
T: "It means you can't beat him.  Ask him if he's a duke."
 
S: "He says he is.  What's that mean?"
 
T: "It means *THEY* can't beat him either!"

 * Origin: TIDMADT 703-370-7054: WOC 'n Woad with MEDIEVAL Echo! (1:109/120)

From: whh at PacBell.COM (Wilson Heydt)
Date: 8 Dec 89 17:23:50 GMT
Organization: Pacific * Bell, San Ramon, CA

I showed the story about Visivald in Basic Training to Duke Frederick
of Holland last night.  He relates that Vis told him that the third
time, the DI had three of his assistants help try to beat Vis--and Vis
got all 4 of them . . . 

The final "exercise" of the pugil-stick training was a "bear pit"
operation.  All the recruits were given pugil-sticks a put in
a large pit.  Only one is supposed to come out.  After seeing what
Vis had done to the DI, everybody left him alone.  When there
was one other recruit left, Vis walked over to him and asked--

"Shall I hit you, or do you just want to fall down?"

The other recruit elected to fall down without being hit and Vis
walked out . . . .

Flieg is also fond of what happened to Theoderick of Skane one
day.  Theoderick pulled into a 7-11 lot and as he got out of his
car three young tuoghs came toward him.  He'd been fighting for a
few months at the time.  He reached into the back seat and pulled
out a field-legal sword.  On of the toughs took one look and told
his friends--  "Look out!  He's SCA!  He'll beat the shit out of us!"
Needless to say--the gang left abruptly.

     --Hal

        Hal Ravn, Province of the Mists, West Kingdom
        Wilson H. Heydt, Jr.,  Albany, CA 94706,  415/524-8321 (home)
=======================================================================

Hal Heydt                    |Surely the end of the world is at hand: 
Analyst, Pacific*Bell        |   Children no longer obey their parents 
415-823-5447                 |   and *everyone* wants to write a book.
whh at pbhya.PacBell.COM        |     --from a Babylonian clay tablet

From: Algernon.Hartesmond at lcs.mit.edu, O.Troub. at lcs.mit.edu
Date: 12 Dec 89 18:24:24 GMT
Organization: Society for Creative Anachronism

} Date: 8 Dec 89 17:23:50 GMT
} From: Wilson Heydt <pacbell!pbhya!whh at AMES.ARC.NASA.GOV>
} Subject: Re: Vis in Basic Training
} 
} I showed the story about Visivald in Basic Training to Duke Frederick of
} Holland last night.  He relates that Vis told him that the third time,
} the DI had three of his assistants help try to beat Vis--and Vis got all
} 4 of them . . .

I told Vis that the "pugil-stick in basic training" story had been
retold on the net.  He asked me which version.  "The one that ends
`...Means they can't beat him either,' I reported.

Vis says that one is false variant #4 -- he wasn't a knight yet, after
all.  We agreed, however, that it *is* a really good story, even better
than the original.  He admitted that it was so good a tale that he
himself tells it that way on occasion.

All the versions agree that after receiving such a thorough whupping,
the pugil instructors had Vis give them lessons.  They were large,
powerful fellows, in excellent condition, and fiercely determined never
to let this happen again.

There's a story to follow this one that has never been heard: What ever
happened to the next SCA smart-guy at that camp who thought he could
show these instructors a thing or two about pole-weapons?

+-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: whh at PacBell.COM (Wilson Heydt)
Date: 5 Dec 89 00:39:19 GMT
Organization: Pacific * Bell, San Ramon, CA

While we're trotting out old stories . . .  Here's one I
was told by Master Harold of Breakstone (mka Clint Bigglestone)
some years ago . . .

Clint was learning the Japanese art of the sword from a venerable
old Master.  Indeed, clint's sensei was the one that taught Toshiro
Mifune how to use one properly.  The sensei spoke very little
English and Clint spoke essentially no Japanese.  With translation,
they had a discussion one evening about the relative virtues of the
Western and Eastern ways of the sword.  Clint--having fought in the 
Society--offered to demonstrate.  The only thing available to use for
a shield was a garbage-can lid.  At one point the sensei made a very
nice, low, cut. clint blocked the move by pinning the sensei's wrist
to the floor with the rim of his sheild.  The sensei left the room,
making some remark in his native language.  Puzzled, Clint asked
the translator--the sensei's daughter, as I recall--what the old
man had said.  Supressing giggles, she replied:  "Master say, 
'Western Warrior very sneaky.'"

     --Hal

        Hal Ravn, Province of the Mists, West Kingdom
        Wilson H. Heydt, Jr.,  Albany, CA 94706,  415/524-8321 (home)
=======================================================================
Hal Heydt                    |Surely the end of the world is at hand: 
Analyst, Pacific*Bell        |   Children no longer obey their parents 
415-823-5447                 |   and *everyone* wants to write a book.
whh at pbhya.PacBell.COM        |     --from a Babylonian clay tablet

From: whh at PacBell.COM (Wilson Heydt)
Date: 5 Dec 89 00:48:44 GMT
Organization: Pacific * Bell, San Ramon, CA

While I'm on the subject, he's another from long years ago.  I was
at the "climactic" event--the first Crown list I ever fought in,
but I wasn't involved in the conversations . . . 

Years and years ago--in the dawn mists of the Society (my Lady Wife
could probably supply the dates, but all I can say is "pre-'70s),
several Society members lived in a "slan shack" in the Haight-Ashbury
district in San Francisco.  Among them were Clint Bigglestone (Master
Harold of breakstone), Ken deMaif (sp?), and Steve Perrin (Comte Stephen
de Lorraine).  They were fond of practicing Society combat in a nearby
empty lot--to the interest, amusement and such of of their neighbors.

Among the neighbors were active members of the motorcycle club Hell's
Angels (of whom you have probably heard).

June Crown of 1970 was held in San Anselmo.  The site was right on
some local streets, so it was no surprise when the local Police
dropped by to see what was going on.  After the usual explanations
and cries of "if only I weren't on duty . . ." they departed.  While
there however, they mentioned an unusual reason for not being able to
stay and watch.  It seemed the Hell's Angels were due to blow through
town that day and the Police were planning to meet them at the edge of
town and "encourage" them to pick on somebody else.  We later got news
that word of the Society's precense in town had gotten to the Angels,
and they went *around* San Anselmo instead of trying to go through . . .

Now *that's* a reputation.

      --Hal

        Hal Ravn, Province of the Mists, West Kingdom
        Wilson H. Heydt, Jr.,  Albany, CA 94706,  415/524-8321 (home)

From: samlb at pioneer.arc.nasa.gov (Sam Bassett RCD)
Date: 8 Dec 89 21:52:59 GMT
Organization: Old, used, Steward (Thanks, Flieg!)

        I heard a variation of that one from Clint:

        It seems that they were all out in the back yard of the Hashbury
house, happily bashing at each other, when a group of angels roared up on
their hogs on the other side of the fence.  Hearing the sounds of an
evident rumble, they peeked over the fence.
        After somebody explained what was going on, one of the Angels was
heard to say: "Jeez -- those guys must be tough -- I'd never let anyone
do that to me."

Sam'l Bassett, Sterling Software  at  NASA Ames Research Center, 
Moffett Field CA 94035 Work: (415) 694-4792;  Home: (415) 969-2644
samlb at well.sf.ca.us                     samlb at ames.arc.nasa.gov 
<Disclaimer> := 'Sterling doesn't _have_ opinions -- much less NASA!'

From: think!ames!decwrl!decvax!tinhat!meg at EDDIE.MIT.EDU (Megan ni Laine)
Date: 30 Mar 90 07:40:23 GMT
Organization: Society for Creative Anachronism

Let me tell you a short story. This is a true story.
The day after I was elected Baroness Stonemarche, I had to drive
upstate to Dartmouth hospital for an operation. It was in February,
and it had snowed the night before. There were Department of
Transportation trucks plowing the snow from the highway in front of me.
I thought to myself, what a deserted stretch of highway, and here are
four trucks clearing it. I am the only car on the road...are they
doing it just for me?  This rather pretentious thought made me
remember the fact that I was now Baroness of this place, this entire
mundane state was now the Barony of Stonemarche, I was its titular
head. Suddenly I was swept away on the fantasy that I am the Baroness 
Stonemarche, this is MY highway, these White Mountains around me are 
MY mountains, those trucks are MY Baronial trucks clearing the road
before me. I was filled with a proprietary feeling toward the land
around me...the mountains of stone, the trees, the rivers and
lakes...it was all mine.  Sounds silly, huh?  Yet, in the subsequent
years, I have honored real people and rewarded them for their real
achievements, I have patched up real arguements and made real peace
between angry households, I have comforted my people when their hearts
were broken and their lives were falling apart, I have encouraged them
when they succeded amd commisserated with them when they failed. I have
found them jobs, helped them find housing, fed them, given them rides,
loamed money when needed...being Baroness is a real thing here. We are
a close-knit community of medievalists, and even when we are not
playing the Game, we are still friends.  Every night, from 8 to about
1am, I am on the phone with the various folk of my barony. Its like
being a college professor, social worker and lawyer all rolled into one.
I've witnessed their weddings,and even assisted at the birth of their
children!

No offense meant to the Crown, but I didn't win this position by
strength of arms. My people elected me, very nearly unanimously.  It
is by their will that I am here, it is to serve them that I remain.

The motto of Household Runnymede (open only to the Baronage of the EAst)is:
Kings come and go, but we are always here.

Sorry for rambling on so...but its a real and personal thing. I do
take the fantasy seriously. Maybe that's why they elected me in the
first place...

M ay the words I use
E ver be plain,
G od forbid I confuse
A ught I wish to explain.
N ow I remain, your servant, Megan.

 --        
               Megan ni Laine, OL, Baroness Stonemarche   
                      The Barony of Stonemarche           
                            East Kingdom     
Linda Anfuso                      meg at tinhat.UUCP
Forest Road                       meg%tinhat%hern at grove.crsfld.com      
Wilton, NH 03086, U. S. A.        ...uunet!bytepb!hern!tinhat!meg

From: icarus at UCSCB.UCSC.EDU (60451000)
Date: 16 Apr 90 16:38:18 GMT
Organization: Society for Creative Anachronism

A book called _The Gryphon King_ by (I believe) Tom Weitz
also has explicit references to the SCA- in fact, part of the
story is set at an event.

-Lady Margrethe von Holbeck

From: mittle at blinn.watson.ibm.com (Josh Mittleman)
Date: 16 Apr 90 17:56:34 GMT
Organization: IBM T.J. Watson Research, NY

Dur asks: 

(list of SCA authors deleted)

>How many "real, named" personnas of SCAdians have these authors used, and who
>are they?

Well, "Baron Dur" appears in "Murder in the War."  (Gee, what a
coincidence :)  Marion Zimmer Bradley's Darkover books have several
secondary characters who are based on SCA people...I know that Cinhil
MacAran is one such.  I'm not sure about her primary characters. 

        Arval.

Subject: Re: Personnas in works by SCA authors....

>>Well, "Baron Dur" appears in "Murder in the War."
>
> So does Solomon ben Jacob...
>
>               Tzvi

Include Bertram of Berrington as well...

Dur

From: klw at hpindwa.HP.COM (Karen Williams)
Date: 20 Apr 90 17:33:45 GMT
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Cupertino CA

/ hpindwa:rec.org.sca / amanda at mermaid.intercon.com (Amanda Walker) / 11:10 am
Apr 19, 1990 /
>> >>Well, "Baron Dur" appears in "Murder in the War."
>> > So does Solomon ben Jacob...
>> Include Bertram of Berrington as well...
>And if that's not Laurelen Darksbane, Grod Gondoris (sp?), and Andrew of
>Seldom Rest on the dust jacket, it's a mighty amazing coincidence.

It is. She gave the artist some pictures from Pennsic and he followed
them very closely.

The woman with all the knives is based on Fiona (I think that's her name;
Master Thorbjorn's wife) from the Barony of Jararvellir (Middle).

Branwen ferch Emrys

From: a318 at mindlink.UUCP (Colin Hart)
Date: 7 May 90 00:56:39 GMT
Organization: MIND LINK! - British Columbia, Canada

Greetings to all who may come to read this from Colin Mackay of Balmaghie. All
the talk about safety in camps and the chivalry of our group leads me to
remember this incident; A number of years ago here in Lions Gate I was
autcratting some Highland Games at one of our favourite sites , the night was
growing late everybody who was to camp for the weekend was there, some had
gone
to bed and a very colourfull Irishman had apparantly passed out drunk and had
been put to bed, the fire was dieing down when a gentle came out of his
pavilllion where he had been settling down his three smalls for the night and
asked if any one else heard some screaming.  Indeed we did, I had heard it off
and on for a while but had put it down to a nearby party. 4 of us went out to
the road about 2 minutes felt longer and had a look. Looking out we could see
some teens on the road and they seemed at first to be playing on the road, but
then another car passed them and one of them let out a cry of desperation/
terror, I called out to see if they needed any help. They sure did. They had 
come down a long straight road and turned too quickly onto another, hit some 
gravel and the car landed upside down in a ditch.  One of the 4 of us turned 
out to be a youth crises worker and he was very handy in helping a young 
female 
who was going into shock.  The second person roared back to the camp to get 
some help while 2 of us stood on the road and flagged down the next car to 
summon help.  A cellular phone was also used to summon aid.  THe campsite on 
hearing the call for MEDIC LIGHTS BLANKETS etc immeadiately came to life and 
was out to the road in seconds flat!!This included the Irishman, suddenly sober 
as a judge and dressed only in a little green kilt with a blue ribbon down the
front- he turned out to be a first aid instructor who was used to giving his
students this sort of a drill late at night. This was real and he was on top of
the situation. When the ambulance and the police arrived they could not
believe all (20 -30) these people out to help out, especially the Paramedic who
heard very professional diagnosis from the Kilted wonder and was dumbstruck
for
a couple of seconds when asked if he was ready to take over. The Police had to
know if this was all a Bunch of Robin Hoods or what!!!

Sorry to use so much bandswidth but the story is indicative of the courtesy
and chivalry which we all take for granted and is so sadly lacking in the
mundane world.

Colin MAckay of Balmaghie.
Barony of Lions Gate Kingdom of An Tir.

From: HZS at psuvm.psu.edu (Therion Calgate, Confederation)
Date: 7 May 90 14:15:07 GMT
Organization: Penn State University

I would tend to agree with the folks who say that the Pennsic War is one of the
 safest places for a young lady to be in this day and age. You are surrounded
by thousands of folks who are dedicated to Chivalry. All of them are armed, and
a majority have martial arts training (rattan, fencing, or mundane). Three or
four Pennsics ago, I was sitting at a fire with a group of friends when a young
lady at the neighboring camp decided it would be amusing to begin screaming at the top of her lungs (the only thing her group was doing at the time was
telling jokes and drinking excessively). I was instantly on my feet, over the
two fences between our camps, ready to let whomever was abusing this lady try
to abuse me. I reached the fire, and realized that the lady was in no danger
 and was merely being drunk and silly. As I began to give her a *very* stern
lecture, I noticed at least twenty other people standing around the edges of
her camp, some with drawn swords. This was within ten seconds of her scream.
Try getting that kind of response to a call for help in Mundania.

                                                     Therion

From: griff at anvil.intel.com (Richard Griffith)
Date: 4 May 90 14:47:40 GMT

In article <9005030829.AA02789 at ti.com>, evans at lvipl.csc.ti.com ("Eleanor
J. Evans  at  462-5330") writes:

> Incidentally - and as more than one gentle has already commented - the
> knightly behavior of society members is such to bring massive amounts of
> assistance on short notice in any such situation.  Any person ungentlemanly
> enough to persist in unwanted attentions is likely to find himself (or
> herself, though perhaps less likely) being beaten about the head and
> shoulders by many irate gentles.

I have seen instances where, unfortunately, this sort of thing has occured.
The man (I refuse to call him a "gentle"...) in question had sought to 
"bestow his favors" upon a lady - within perhaps, 3 seconds, of her first
sound of struggle, a passing lord asked if everything was ok... it wasn't,
of course, and the man was asked to leave the event immediately.  Furthermore,
the lady enjoyed the company of two guards outside her tent for the remainder
of the evening.  What I found most commendable was that this assistance was 
totally "unofficial" - that's just the way the majority of the gentles within
the Society behave.   

:Richard E. Griffith, "griff" : iNTEL, Hillsboro Ore.
:griff at anvil.hf.intel.com
:SCA!: Cyrus Hammerhand, Household of the Golden Wolf, Dragons' Mist, An Tir 

From: david at twg.com (David Herron)
Date: 8 May 90 21:21:22 GMT
Organization: The Wollongong Group, Palo Alto, CA

In article <6297 at aides.watson.ibm.com> mittle at blinn.UUCP (Josh Mittleman)
writes:
>Another author who explicitly refers to the SCA is Christopher
>Stasheff, in Escape Velocity the "prequel" to his Wizard series.  I
>have been told that he was never actually in the SCA, but wrote the
>first and best of those books, The Warlock in Spite of Himself,
>without ever having encountered us, and only later discovered what he
>hath wrought.

Yes, this is exactly the story Stasheff told when I saw him
at an SF Convention once.  He wrote something that made sense,
and years later heard of the SCA.  I'm reasonably sure the first
book was written after '68 sooo..

        David le Casse'

From: ken at hayes.fai.alaska.edu.edu (Ken Burnside) 
Date: 7 Jun 90 12:42:39 GMT 
Organization: University of Alaska Fairbanks 
  
You are right, of course, in your assertion that the King's Law has some 
limits.  However, the Kings that we've had to date have never really stepped
beyond those limits.  They have 25 years of tradition to bind and guide them. 
   
However:  I have an amusing anecdote that shows the power of the Western
Kings.

Back in the mists of time, there was a King of the West, who to preserve his
dignity, and the dignity of the Crown that he wore, shall remain nameless.
Also at this time, there was a young lad attending his first large event. 
That lad was myself.
At said event were participants who were thinking of breaking their shire 
off to form it's own microcosm within the Society...where everyone is at least
a Count, and other things.   (Their reasons were politically based...they felt
that at least two of their fighters deserved Knighthood...but had been denied
it by politicking.)
Said King of the West was sitting in the communal pavillion, nursing the 
effects of an evening's reveling, and watching the children play, and listening
to the rain drizzle outside.  I was in charge of keeping the children under
control, and generally seeing to His Majesties food and drink.  (It being 6 AM,
we were the only two awake, aside from the children and the cooks.)
His Majesty, who had gotten a greenstick fracture in the melee the day before,
was slowly coming to the conclusion that the day just *might* be worth looking
at as a pleasurable activity when his breakfast was interrupted.
Three of the dissident fighters came into the tent, not bothering to pay 
their respects to His Majesty, grabbed food from the trenchers, and began
to shout at the King.  About the "Good Old Days", when Kings had Real Power in
the SCA, before it was all tied up in Parliamentary Bullshit.  About the
days when Real Men were Kings, men who were Leaders, men who were Nobility Enshrined.  

About this time, several small children were wailing, His Majesty was covering
his ears, and putting his forehead into the bowls, and the dissidents were
running out of steam.  I managed to quiet down a number of smalls, and pass
the King another pair of aspirin when the King looked up.  He smiled.
  
He looked at the three dripping fighters, and said "So, I've no power, eh?"
He looked at me, and said "You, boy.  Come here, please."
I walked around the table, and knelt before my sovereign lord and leige.
He looked down upon me, at my mud and baby-spattered tunic, my coarse, 
unadorned clothes, my general dishevelment, and examined me closely.
He put his hand under my chin, and looked me in the eye.  "What is your
name, lad?" He asked it not unkindly, but I was still frightened.
"I am called Yorik, Your Majesty.  Yorik the Blind."
He looked at me for a long moment, then back at the three dissident fighters.
He tapped me on the right shoulder, then on the left.  He cocked his fist,
and threw a punch at me.  To my own credit, I was far too startled to flinch.
The punch lightly touched my cheek.  "Rise, Sir Yorik.  Go forth and treat 
others with the same kindness and gentility with which you have graced me on
this day."  He then helped me to my feet, and gave me the hand-clasp and hug
of an equal.   
Turning to the three dissident fighters, he asked "Now, what were you saying?"
  
Under West Kingdom Law, I can claim the rights and prerogatives of the 
Chivalry.  I shall never do so.  I am called 'the Blind' for a reason...and 
those reasons preclude me from fighting in heavy weapons.  I also do not feel
that I have earned the rank of the Chivalry...and the knights that I have seen,
and try to emulate, make the prospect of ever earning a Peerage a daunting
task.  

There are some who say that the King demeaned the standards of the Chivalry
by drawing me into it.  To those, I say this:  His Majesty showed me a 
moment of nobility and gentility that it would do many well to follow.
  
The true exercise of Royal Prerogative lies in initiative.  His Majesty 
took the initiative, and turned a bad situation around without devolving
into a shouting match.  

The traditions that bind Royal Will in the West are also the ones that make
it possible.  The ones that define this Dream we all share.  The traditions
of honour, courtesy and chivalry.  And, every now and again, those of 
noblesse oblige.
  
I feel that the honor of having participated in that exchange more than 
makes up for the fact that I was granted a title which I have not earned, 
and cannot accept.
  
(Not to mention the fact that the expression on the faces of those three 
fighters was PRICELESS....I avoided them and their camp for the rest of the
event.)

Yorik the Blind.

(DON'T call me 'Sir'.  Please.)

From: wesommer at athena.mit.edu (Bill Sommerfeld)
Date: 8 Jun 90 04:04:52 GMT
Organization: None.

Recently, I falsely accused Jerry Pournelle of having written _Dream
Park_.  The copy I have in front of me claims to have been written by
Larry Niven and Steven Barnes.  

The SCA is mentioned in the penultimate paragraph of the afterword
(*emphasis mine*):

    The concepts of Gaming used in _Dream Park_ are drawn from many
    sources: computer-gaming, Dungeons and Dragons, *the Society for
    Creative Anachronism*, and the fiendish imaginations of fans
    throughout the Southern California area.

From: pro-angmar!vis at alphalpha.com (Tom Courtney)
Date: 19 Nov 90 05:21:47 GMT

Justin is confused because he thought the humorous story, attributed to
Sir Balin, was about me. I have certainly heard this story told about me,
and is partially based on fact, with a few anachronisms.

In 1975, while at advanced infantry training, I succeeded in defeating 3
drill sergeants in pugil stick combat. This is not such an amazing feat as
it sounds because: 1) pugil stick training was downplayed in the army at
that time; 2) I was able to shrug off what I would have counted in the
list; 3) I was 20 and at the peak of my physical abilities; drill sergeants
are closer to 30; and work much harder at training soldiers than the
soldiers being trained. The instructers were about to come back for round 2
when the company commander, up in a safety range tower, asked over a
megaphone if I was in the SCA. When told that I was, he told them to give
up-- he needed them tomorrow. The bit about "He says he's a knight" started
appearing in this story in about 1978 (even though I think I was still a
master of arms at that time.) I was not a member of the chivalry while in
basic.

However, I don't think the story really started with me, since I heard a
very similar story when I first joined the SCA, about "some westerner". If
Sir Balin said it happened to him, that too is very believable, since any
red-blooded fighter in such a situation would jump at the chance of
defeating his drill sergeant, particularly if he got to tag 3 or 4 of them.
Of course, if the drill sergeant defeats the fighter, nobody hears that
story.

Tom Courtney
aka Vissevald Selkirksson

TO: Kihe Blackeagle
FROM: Aengus macColl
SUBJECT: "See your six..."

The tale you alluded to in your message (which I cannot quote, due to a 
lack of said feature on this particular gollum) regarding "See your six 
and raise you thirty" may have been told in your area as a rapier story, 
but Ioseph and Taras and a few of us other seriously older types know it 
to be a tale of (insert hats here) Mistress Sir Trude Lacklandia (insert 
alphabet soup here).
 
It took place in the very early days of the Society, AS III or IV, in 
Berkley, CA.  (insert hats) Trude (insert alphabet), then just Lady 
Trude, one of the SCA's first female fighters, and a d**n good one at 
that (hence the "Sir"), was coming home from an evening fighter practice 
via the bus.  Upon disembarking she was accosted by several individuals 
of low morals seeking easy gain, who demanded the contents of her purse 
and bag while brandishing a switchblade.  She told them, "Certainly!", 
opened her bag (containing her armour) and withdrew a broadsword.  Then 
she coined those immortal words.
 
The clanging sound heard 'round the Bay was not the noise of 
pocketknives being dropped, it was the perps a**holes slamming shut...
---

From: dolata at lead.uazaic.arizona.edu (Dolata)
Date: 17 May 91 21:50:31 GMT
Organization: University of Arizona AI Chemistry Lab, Tucson, AZ
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca

Dearest Gentles...

        I pray your indulgence,  for the following story is not
strictly related to the SCA,  but does pertain to activities surrounding
historical research pursuent to SCA interests.  And, mayhaps you will
find it amusing...   I have several other such stories,  and if my 
dear readers do find some amusement in this story,  then I would be
pleased to present them.

        Yours in Service,
        Thomas Ignatius Perigrinus
        Minister of Arts and Sciences
        College of St Felix (choose your favorite,  there are 17 St. Felixs)

The Lump

        While I was working in Sweden,  I had many chances to visit London.
Through a strange set of circumstances, while performing historical research
I was able to be of service to the Abbot of Westminster Abbey.  
As a reward,  I was presented with a weather worn carved capital from the 
Chapel of Henry VI'th which was being replaced with a new one.  (The service
had pertained to this restoration work)  Although weatherworn and a bit 
crumbly,  it is delicately carved, and so I worked hard to protect it.   
Since it weighs 50+ pounds, this was not easy.  

        Fortunately,  I had traveled from Sweden to England with my good
Lady, her Mother, and her sister...   Even though the latter two of our party
were planning to travel onwards, rather than return to Sweden,  it had been
cheapest to buy everyone round trip tickets...   So the fact that I had a 50+
pound chunk of Westminster Abbey didn't seem like it would present a problem...
I had a pair of spare return trip tickets.  It could fly as a passanger!!!!

        Check in was fun...    "I'd like to check in three to Sweden..."
presenting the tickets...   "Yes sir...   would you put your carry on
bag on the scale???"   "No,  that's one of the passangers".   "Yes, sir,
would you put _their_ bag on the scale."   "No,  I didn't make myself clear.
That is not a bag belonging to a passanger... that bag is the passanger."
"Excuse me sir...   did you say the BAG is the PASSANGER?"   "Yes,  and
it would like a window seat."    At this point they decided I was definately
daft,  and I spent th next ten minutes talking to various managers...
Finally that was cleared up, and the bag got it's window seat.

        Arriving at the security gate,  I placed my bag firmly (ka-thunk)
on the x-ray machine...  and of course no x-rays penetrated the rock...
So they asked me;  "What do you have in there, a rock?" "Why yes, I do".
"Well sir, could you be so kind as to open it?" "But of course..."
Well, they were very amused, but seeing as how I had the foresight
to obtain a legal possesion and export document, they finally let it through.

        I thought I had it made,  but the people at the boarding gate
noticed that I was lugging this bag as if it contained somewhat over the
14 pounds weight allowance for carry on luggage.  Also, I was treating
it gingerly since it is a irreplaceable thing,  and I didn't want to
damage it...  "Excuse me sir, but if that bag weighs more than 14
pounds you will have to check it..."   "No,  thats okay,  it isn't a bag,
it's a passanger with it's own ticket... right here."  With that,
I showed the ticket. "Yes sir, where is the person who's ticket this 
is?" "No, let me make it clear, this bag is the passanger, it is going 
to sit in a seat, next to the window." "Yes, sir, could you kindly
step into the security office with us?..."     Sigh...

        Finally we board the airplane...  I thought we had it made...
But alas,  fate had a bit more planned for me.  Shortly after the plane
buttoned up,  the stewardess came around and asked me if I could move
the bag off of the seat (It was firmly seat belted in place), because
a passanger wanted to move to the window (I should have realized that
might cause problems). "No,  I am afraid I won't move the bag,  and
besides,  I have paid for that seat...."   "Well yes sir,  if that is
your reserved seat,  than could you sit in it and give the other gentleman
the seat you are sitting in?"  "I'm afraid I have not made it clear...
I have paid for a ticket for the bag...  it is a passanger.  That is it's
reserved seat....  I have a ticket, I am a passanger, and this is my 
reserved seat.  We are both passangers, with tickets, and reserved 
seats...  (and trying to suprress a grin)  And we would both like the
chicken entree."  ....  eventually I was able to convince the co-pilot that
the bag was a bona-fide passanger with a ticket,  that it didn't constitute
a threat to the welfare of the airplane,  and that it did have a right to
both the window seat and the chicken entree...

From: justin at inmet.inmet.COM (Justin du Coeur MKA Mark Waks)
Date: 23 May 91 13:41:51 GMT

Darcy Graham writes:
>The herald started to announce them, then paused and turned
>to the leader, "I'm sorry m'lord, but I don't know the name of your
>group."  The response was, "Neither do we," in a fine Tennessee
>accent.  So the presentation from the incipient Shire of Nyther Dwee
>was duly announced.

Which puts me in mind of not one, but two stories (flying off on a tangent,
as I am wont to do):

The first concerns a local fellow (who I haven't seen in a couple of years).
When he came to one of his first events, he was asked at the gate what his
name was. He just shrugged, and said, "Call me what you will...". And he
was forever after known as Watchoo Will...

The second occurred to a friend of mine, who is a chirurgeon and has one
of the most devastatingly thick Baahston accents I've ever come across. It
happened in the middle of a woods battle (possibly Pennsic, but I'm not
sure). He came tearing out of the forest, at a run, to the gathered
chirurgeons, yelling, "I found Bob Dwyer in the woods!".

"Okay," said they, "is he hurt?".

"No, no! I found *Bob Dwyer* in the woods!"

"Ah -- this Dwyer person has some sort of medical condition?"

"NO! I found *BOB* *DWYER* in the woods! *BOB* *DWYER*!"

After a few minutes of this, he finally managed to overcome his accent
enough to force the 'r' into the middle of the phrase "barbed wire"...

                                -- Justin du Coeur
                                   Teller of Tales and
                                   Victim of the Folk Process

From: djheydt at garnet.berkeley.edu
Date: 27 May 91 21:29:20 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley

In article <1991May26.160906.4105 at panix.uucp> wlinden at panix.uucp (Alfgar the Sententious) writes:
>
> Dear Old Used Peers: Since this group has been getting the details of how
>so many things really happened in the high and far-off times, I thought of
>this one. For many moons, some have been giving newcomers a cautionary tale
>on the follies of insisting on a "real" persona, by relating that at an
>early tournament someone showed up claiming to be "Aragorn Son of
>Arathorn", and was repeatedly challenged by everyone in reach for the
>"honor" of facing such a renowned warrior. Others deny emphatically that
>this ever happened.

It did happen; I was there.  The scene was Tilden Park and the date
was March 1967, AS I.  (This was the same tourney to which Henrik of
Havn brought his new hauberk and spangenhelm that he'd been working
on all winter, and borrowing a horse rode straight onto the cover of
TI #1.)

There were so few of us there that we didn't even try doing a Grand
March, but we were all standing in a semicircle around the throne
and told our names.  And when it came to this one guy, a weedy
youngster of maybe twenty whom I for one hadn't seen before,
he named his name as "Aragorn son of Arathorn."  Gasps from the
bystanders.  Several gloves thrown at his feet--not "for the honor
of facing such a renowned warrior," but for the chance to teach
this impostor the error of his ways.  I don't know if anybody actually
fought him.  I don't know if anybody gently took him off in a corner
and explained what it was he'd done wrong.  We should've, of course.
(He never showed up again.)  But we were just getting started; we
were ALL newbies then, and we were also very young.  Age and
experience have taught us patience and tolerance, or if they haven't
they should have.

Dorothea of Caer-Myrddin                Dorothy J. Heydt
Province of the Mists                   djheydt at garnet.berkeley.edu
Principality of the Mists               University of California,
Kingdom of the West                     Berkeley

From: dolata at lead.uazaic.arizona.edu (Dolata)
Date: 8 Aug 91 19:03:49 GMT
Organization: University of Arizona AI Chemistry Lab, Tucson, AZ

Dearest Gentles,

        I cannot speak unto the question of "Born into the Society", but I
can relate a tale of the other end of life...  This tale was told to me
by a doughty Scotsman by the name of Arbolest Stuart of Clan Collin, 
Captain of Artillary and BodyGuard to the Collin,  who bears a surprising 
resemblance to myself.

        About one decade and one hand of years ago (things may well have 
changed) Clan Collin of Novato CA was a group which existed outside of, but 
partook heavily in the SCA, Scottish Highland Games, and California
Rennaisance Pleasure Faire. One of the younger lads (as many years old then
as time has gone by since) was struck down with a fell disease (leukemia?).  

        His wish was that since the highest points of his life had been with
Clan Collin at the Northern Faire, that he be cremated and buried on site,
in the Clan encampment.   And thus it was done.  The Clan gathered on
a hillside, and stood in respectful silence while an honor guard piped
him to his final resting spot.   His ashes were solemnly interred beneath 
a Calfornia Scrub Oak tree, on a bit of hillside overlooking the Camp 
and the Washing Well. And as long as Clan remained at the Faire, the
site was ringed with rocks and always had a sprig of green or a flower
to mark his place.

        I believe I have heard that California Renn Faire has sold that site.
I do not know if the lad's family has left his ashes there.  I hope so, for 
even though the faire be gone,  the ghosts of many a fine day and
evening shall haunt that glade for many a year, and would keep his shade
fine company.

Yours in Service

Thomas Ignatius Perigrinus
Minister of Arts, Sciences, and Tales of Long Ago
College of St. Felix

From: tperreau at zia.aoc.nrao.EDU (Adept Array Op)
Date: 2 Nov 91 19:42:50 GMT
Organization: The Internet

Greetings fellow Rialtians from newly made Lord Torcail Gilleghaolian!

At our past St. Golias Feast Day on October 26th (yes, Arastorm, it's
finally over and I'm still as sane as ever - which ain't saying much! :-)
it was announced that the Kingdom of the Outlands now has a fleet!

What happened is that a brother of one of our members signed on with the
US Merchant Marine.  He, too, was in the SCA and explained to the captain
of his ship about the SCA, and how sometimes kingdoms "adopt" ships.  
Apparently the captain thought that this was a grand idea and kicked it
upstairs.  Next thing we know is that we get a letter from the commander
(admiral?) of the US Merchant Marine,letting us know that all 2,193 ships
of the Merchant Marine have been adopted by the College of St. Golias!
Needless to say, there was much rejoicing.

Not too bad for a land-locked kingdom!

******************************************************************************
        Torcail Ghilleghaolain                  Tony Perreault
        College of St. Golias                   NRAO - VLA
        Kingdom of the Outlands                 Socorro, NM  87801
                           tperreau at zia.aoc.nrao.edu
******************************************************************************

Re: Security Clearence Vs SCA Membership
20 Feb 92 
From: Brian Stanley <STANLEY at NDSUVM1.BITNET>
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: North Dakota Higher Education Computer Network

Unto the Rialto and in particular unto those persons concerned about SCA
interfering with mundane security clearances, Aleyn fitz Geoffrey sends
Greetings,

Good gentles, as I mundanely hold a Top Secret clearance with a Special
Background Investigation and am authorized to juggle (or rather work with)
nuclear weapons, I can state that SCA membership alone is not considered
dangerous by the U S Government.

In service,

Aleyn

Re: The SCA and security clearances
21 Feb 92
From: james at wrs.com (James Moore)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: Wind River Systems, Inc.

In 1988, I requested all information on the SCA held by the FBI under the
Freedom of Information Act.  I got back a couple pages, one of which
was a memo from the FBI to another agency (name blacked out) stating that
the only information the FBI had was that the SCA was a nonprofit
educational association.  The other pages were memos of one or two
sentances that basically said the same thing.

--
James Moore                                 | james at wrs.com
Wind River Systems Engineering              |

Re: Security Clearence Vs SCA Membership
21 Feb 92 
From: brichard at cbmvax.commodore.com (B. Richard)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: Commodore, West Chester, PA
Reply-To: brichard at cbmvax.commodore.com (B. Richard)

In article <DOCONNOR.92Feb20194422 at oxygen.inews.intel.com> doconnor at oxygen.inews.intel.com (Dennis O'Connor) writes:
>
>
>I held a clearance too, and during the application process mentioned my
>SCA involvement, and was told the following by the security administrators
>at our site :
>
>It seems long ago someone mis-heard that the SCA was the "Society for
>Creative Anarchism", and denied someone else a clearance, and that denied
>questioned why, and the denier checked things out, and the clearance
>was issued after all, as well as a notice to the security agencies 
>about what the SCA was ... I got my clearance, of course.
>--
>Dennis O'Connor			doconnor at sedona.intel.com
>Not an official representative of Intel.

  I've actually had that anarchy problem myself!  Before my application
was forwarded to the DIS people, my division manager sat on it for a while
trying to figure out what to do about this "Society for Creative Anarchism"
problem.  This application also had my SCA name on the "aliases" line.  
After a long talk with my manager that eventually ended up in pointing at 
a couple of lines in a dictionary for him, he got straightened out on it
and away it went!  My clearance came back faster than anyone else in
my department ever had!  It was a fairly arcane one, too.

  Actually, these days, it should be easier!  When I was going through this,
there were only a couple of Ren-Fests in the country.  Now all ya gotta do
is say "It's kinda like a Ren-Fest" and just about ALL the mundanes know
what you're talking about and it goes on pretty easy from there.

  Enjoy!

  Peredur 

  Now from the Shire of Hartshorn Dale, Eastrealm, (West Side Philly)
  But ever in my heart, a Midrealm Cleftlander     (Cleveland)

Security Clearence Vs SCA Membership
24 Feb 92 
From: habura at vccsouth17.its.rpi.edu (Andrea Marie Habura)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY

One piece of evidence on the SCA-membership-isn't-a-problem side: one of the 
Shires in the East is called Freelords of the Stone Keep...it's based at the
US Army Military Academy at West Point.(You can always tell the Freelord 
people: they're the guys at an event with Very Short Hair.) I rather think that
if the SCA were considered subversive, the Shire there wouldn't be permitted.

Alison MacDermot

Loaf of Trouble
24 Feb 92 
From: habura at vccsouth17.its.rpi.edu (Andrea Marie Habura)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Troy NY

Oh, I know the guy with that shield. It's a 20th century joke. Y'see, Claymore
mines are marked "This Side Toward Enemy" on one end, and also "Do Not EET"
(EET stands for Expose to Extreme Temperatures). My husband thought this was
pretty funny, and mentioned it to John, the guy with the shield. Next event
we saw him at, he had labeled the outside of his shield "This Side Toward
Enemy" and the inside "Do Not Eat".

Alison MacDermot
(who is feeling just a weensy bit guilty about that...)

Archeology at Pennsic. (Are we recreating material calture?)
25 Feb 92 
From: cav at bnr.ca (Rick Cavasin)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: Bell-Northern Research Ltd.

There is a tale, told here in the north, of a fabulous treasure buried
deep in the old archery field.  
My memory of the tale is somewhat foggy, but some time ago (perhaps some
time around Pennsic 14?),
members of the dreaded clan Rhys Mordwyn (god bless dad's nuts!)
buried a case of homebrewed old-peculiar which they were unable (or unwilling?)
to cart home at the end of the war.  The directions to the precise
location of the treasure were subsequently lost.

Now that would be an interesting find.

Regards,
Balderik

Archeology at Pennsic. (Are we recreating material calture?)
25 Feb 92 
From: jschmidt at gambrinus.tymnet.com (John Schmidt)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Organization: BT North America

In the mode of fabulous finds, there still may be an old pothelm that
Master Sir Stephen of Norham buried in the woods at Pennsic 16.  It was
unsold at Pennsic 11, and for 6 years was dug up, admired for rust and 
weathering (whatever effect that is underground) and reburied at the
end of Pennsic.  We tried to find it at Pennsic 17, but failed; perhaps
someone with a metal detector beat us to it.  The helm was on the 
small size for modern heads, and had live steel weapons marks on it
after Pennsic 12.

From: Joe.Bethancourt at f148.n114.z1.tvbbs.UUCP (Joe Bethancourt)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: *whew!*
Date: Mon, 05 Apr 1993 10:14:02 -0700

                I'LL SEE YOUR SIX!
                        -Ioseph of Locksley
        (c) copyright 1993 W.J. Bethancourt III
           (Tune: "The Sleeping Scotsman")

 A lovely lady went one night to a revel in the East
 With dancing and with singing, with wine and Roasted Beast
 When the revel came unto an end, she started out for home
 Wrapped well in her woolen cloak, and walking all alone.

 CHORUS: The things you will run into, the people that you meet
         Walking all alone upon a New York City street!

 Now, New York City's not a place for walking in the dark
 Not in the streets and alleys and especially not the Park
 But off she went most happily, without a single care
 Wrapped up in her woolen cloak, all in the midnight air.

 A street-tough jumped in front of her, with three friends in the night
 And pulled a six-inch switchblade, that glittered in the light
 He waved it underneath her nose, and said with fiendish glee:
 "Give me all your money, girl, this is a robbery!"

 She gazed upon the switchblade, and smiled a happy smile
 Said "Boy, you ain't got any brains, and lack a sense of style!
 You're standing where I want to walk, please move out of my way!"
 The tough said "Girl, I'll cut you, and rob you anyway!"

 All wrapped up in her woolen cloak, her garb was quite unseen
 Her hands were hidden out of sight, and so was chain-mail's gleam...
 She said "Now, go rob someone else, my money stays with me!"
 He said, "I'll take your money with my six-inch snickersnee!"

 The lady's smile got bigger, the robber took a swing
 The chain-mail took the blow; the lady didn't feel a thing!
 She pulled a Kirby broadsword, the robber's soul to shrive,
 And grinned and said, "I'll see your six, and raise you thirty-five!"

 The bandit gazed upon the sword, and then upon his knife
 He turned and ran, with his three friends, a-running for his life!
 Don't think a lady's easy, don't think she's helpless prey,
 Especially if she is a fighter in the SCA!

 Now if you don't believe my song, then ask the lady fair
 With Cheshire Cat upon her shield, a blazon very rare:
 Sir Trude is her name, me lads, if she should pass your way;
 The very first of the Lady Knights within the SCA!

                           *        

                                        -Ioseph of Locksley
                                         grumpy baron

From: cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu ()
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: *whew!*
Date: 7 Apr 1993 16:18:34 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley

Joe.Bethancourt at f148.n114.z1.tvbbs.UUCP (Joe Bethancourt) writes:

[neat filksong]

Nice.  My daughter will love it.  Of course, I don't think it ever
_happened_ to Sir Trude--though it could've, given the opportunity--
and it did happen to Jerry Pournelle before the SCA was ever born
or thought of--but it doesn't matter.  As the old friar said of the
Gospels, "Si non e vero, e ben trovato"--if it isn't true, it's still
a good story.

Dorothea of Caer-Myrddin		Dorothy J. Heydt
Mists/Mists/West			UC Berkeley
Argent, a cross forme'e sable		cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu

From: Joe.Bethancourt at f148.n114.z1.tvbbs.UUCP (Joe Bethancourt)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: *whew!*
Date: Fri, 09 Apr 1993 20:39:02 -0700

Cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.e said to All :

 Co> From: cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu ()
 Co> Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
 Co> Organization: University of California, Berkeley

 Co> Joe.Bethancourt at f148.n114.z1.tvbbs.UUCP (Joe Bethancourt) 
 Co> writes:

 Co> [neat filksong]

 Co> Nice.  My daughter will love it.  Of course, I don't think it ever
 Co> _happened_ to Sir Trude--though it could've, given the opportunity--
 Co> and it did happen to Jerry Pournelle before the SCA was ever born
 Co> or thought of--but it doesn't matter.  As the old friar said of the
 Co> Gospels, "Si non e vero, e ben trovato"--if it isn't true, it's still
 Co> a good story.

Heh! Well, since I heard the story from Trude in the first place.......I'll
have to get her to write it down. I took a little from my Poetic License &
gave her mail and a Kirby broadsword (accept no substitutes!) in the song, 
but otherwise, that's what she told me.

                                                -Ioseph of Locksley
                                                 still grumpy

From: cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu ()
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: I'll See Your Six....
Date: 7 Apr 1993 19:14:58 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley

Looking over this nice song again, I observe that in addition to the
tune that was listed, you can sing it to "The Bastard King of England."

A tune I like better... and know better... and first learned when Oscar
Brand sang to it a song about the DC-3....

Dorothea of Caer-Myrddin		Dorothy J. Heydt
Mists/Mists/West			UC Berkeley
Argent, a cross forme'e sable		cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu

From: atterlep at vela.acs.oakland.edu (Cardinal Ximenez)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: claims to the belt&chain
Date: 11 May 1993 16:32:51 -0400
Organization: National Association for the Disorganized

  This reminds me of the infamous Sir Flamingo...

  During the Pennsic War, in the year XXIII, a the squires of a certain knight
undertook to provoke a certain lady by planting a plastic lawn flamingo outside
her tent every morning.  She promptly began hauling the bird to the garbage, 
from which the squires would retrieve it and put it back up the next day.

  One evening, after this had been going on a while, the squires went to the
Midrealm Royal Encampment and found a certain prince, telling him "we know of
a warrior who has fought most chivalrously, with great vigor and fortitude.
We beg you, your highness, to bestow upon him the honor of knighthood."  He
replied, "who is the one of which you speak?"  They quickly produced the 
flamingo.  The prince said, "what the hell?" and knighted the warrior on the
spot.

  Little did he know that this would come back to haunt him.  The story of Sir
Flamingo began to spread far and wide.  The Kingdom Twelfth Night had a "best
flamingo in any medium" contest.  The lady in question attempted to use the
flamingo as a target in an archery contest, only to be challenged and defeated
by archers who shot at an alligator.  Some of the populace wore flamingo noses
to meetings.  The prince (by then count) recieved a postcard signed "Flamingo,
KSCA" from Brazil.  The lady was registered a badge bearing a flamingo without
her knowledge.  To this day, she recieves flamingo gifts at Twelfth Night
(almost always anonymously.)

  Needless to say, this has discouraged the knighting of inanimate objects in
the Midrealm.

		Alan Fairfax Aluricson, Fenris Herald
		Canton of the Riding of Hawkland Moor
		Barony of Northwoods, Midrealm
		atterlep at vela.acs.oakland.edu		**Magnitudo Vocis**

From: mike at micros.COM (Michael J. Lonski)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Modern-day Armorsmith
Date: 8 Jul 1993 10:18:57 -0400
Organization: The Internet

Bill Laut writes:
>        From time to time, I have heard of people who have taken up the art
>of armorsmithing, and became so good at it that their suits were
>indistinguishable from armor made 500 years ago.

There is an incredibly good smith in the northern Atlantia area by the
name of Brock (aka The Magic Badger) who does a lot of work with iron.  A
story I once heard from his lady was of a time that Brock was visiting a
museum in the region and examing the display of very early medieval implements.
One of the pieces looked quite familiar and upon closer examination, Brock
discovered HIS OWN MARK upon the item.  It took much convincing and a trip or
two out to his car to show the curator similar items before the musuem would
admit to an error.  The result of the whole incident was the item being labeled
as a "recreation of an original artifact".

I know this story verges on anecdotal, but given the source and knowing his
work, I find it highly believable.  No matter what, the thought is amusing :)

Edan Aylwin
jongleur ordinaire
Storvik, Atlantia
-- 
Michael Lonski (address mail to: mikel at micros.com) 301-210-8134
Micros Systems, Inc., R&D, 12000 Baltimore Avenue, Beltsville, MD 20705  

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
From: ddfr at quads.uchicago.edu (david director friedman)
Subject: Re: Modern-day Armorsmith
Organization: University of Chicago
Date: Fri, 9 Jul 1993 00:07:25 GMT

"From time to time, I have heard of people who have taken up the art
of armorsmithing, and became so good at it that their suits were
indistinguishable from armor made 500 years ago."  (Bill Laut)

Edaw Aylwin posts in response:

"There is an incredibly good smith in the northern Atlantia area by
the
name of Brock (aka The Magic Badger) who does a lot of work with
iron."
(followed by an anecdote about Brock)

Brock makes lovely things  (how do you put a beasthead on the end of
a piece of metal? You just pick up a hammer and chisel and hit the
metal a few times) but so far as I know he does not make armor. The
best armorer I know is Master Roberto in Myrkfaelinn; someone else
already posted his address.

David/Cariadoc

From: cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu ()
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: Homogenous SCA?
Date: 5 Aug 1993 23:45:49 GMT
Organization: University of California, Berkeley

In article <1993Aug5.191849.1331 at epas.toronto.edu>,
Cheryl Tallan <ctallan at epas.utoronto.ca> wrote:
>Much more serious than this are the tales I have heard of the Three
>Headed Peers of Caid, where each head has a different Peerage

Hmmm.  I know many Westies who have three Peerages, and even three or
more hats, but none has more than one head, so far as I know.  I
wonder where the Caidans got the extra heads?  On the field of battle
perhaps, or maybe just from the local Special Effects Department?

or the
>tales of the Kingdom of the West, where Awards of Arms are given out
>as birth certificates....:-)

Listen, it nearly happened once: Andrew of Riga, when King in 1974CE,
threatened/promised to give my unborn child an Award of Arms in utero.
But we talked him out of it, and the child (Tristan Halsson von Ravnsborg)
got his Award of Arms honestly about fifteen years later.

Dorothea of Caer-Myrddin		Dorothy J. Heydt
Mists/Mists/West			UC Berkeley
Argent, a cross forme'e sable		cozzlab at garnet.berkeley.edu

From: Stephen.Whitis at f4229.n124.z1.fidonet.org (Stephen Whitis)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: period wedding
Date: Sat, 21 Aug 1993 17:55:16

>> There was a white spot in the
>> dark red blob. For weeks on end. Imagine explaining that to             
>> your boss.                                                              
>                                                                          
>Armor bites, sword bruises, chainmail sunburns, ad nauseum.  If I walk    
>into work on Monday with an unusual mark on my body, the usual reaction   
>is; "How was the medieval event?"                                         

A friend of mine, took a *hard* wrap shot from Duke Inman at fighter
practice.  He's a fire-fighter, and the next day, though he had
forgotten about it, they had physical's scheduled.  Naturally, when
he realized this, he wasn't thrilled with the two-inch wide bruise
going across both butt-cheeks.  :^)

So the doc says "Drop your pants and bend over the table."  He
does, and says "Really Doc, it's *not* what you think!"

As you can imagine, we still get a kick out of teasing him about
that.  :^)

Stephen of the Grove
Steppes, Ansteorra    FIDONET 1:124/4229
ocitor!Stephen.Whitis at rwsys.lonestar.org

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: handicapped
From: schuldy at zariski.harvard.edu (Mark Schuldenfrei)
Date: 30 Aug 93 15:24:42 EDT
Organization: My own little corner.

Cieran (was it?):
  4) The person with Heart disease who did not use a parking card, well fine!
  but it's the Doctor's opinion that gets the card.  If your doctor said,
  "don't ever strain yourself" or somesuch and reccomended the card you'd get
  one easily, [...]

I'd be willing to bet good money that my Doctor would get me one on
request, despite the recovery I am making.  But that is beside the point.

Dennis O'Connor wrote:
  If you've been told "don't ever strain yourself", don't go to an SCA war.

I've been told that all the time, Dennis.  Usually by friends, but
occasionally by my doctor.  Had a great time at Pennsic anyway
(including water-bearing in the Woods: carried three gallons of water
there by foot, ran around for two hours, and walked home.)

Out of curiousity, how many folks have had to explain the SCA to their
physicians?  I remember my followup visit after retinal surgery.  I
asked the Doctor "What restrictions are there on me now?"  His flip
response, in an attempt to say "none", was "Don't take up a sport that
involves repeated blows to the head, like kick boxing or regular boxing."
He turned ashen as I asked: "What about a sport where you put on an
18 gauge helmet of steel, with foam padding, and are struck repeatedly
with a length of rattan?"

He looked puzzled and said: 
  "That's exactly what I mean.  People do that?"

	Tibor
-- 
Mark Schuldenfrei (schuldy at math.harvard.edu)

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
From: tbarnes at silver.ucs.indiana.edu (thomas wrentmore barnes)
Subject: Re: Blimps
Organization: Indiana University
Date: Sat, 28 Aug 1993 17:39:45 GMT

caa at c2s.mn.org (Charles Anderson) writes:
> 71431.167 at compuserve.COM (Reed Harrig) writes:
>|In the mean time would you guys work on getting rid of all the fantansy
>|eyesores. :-)
>
>Yeah especially the guy with the bat wing helmet, and the bad tatoos/body art
>all over.  (hard to miss I saw him several times thin with bad posture, and
>a pot belly.)

	Lothar confesses,

	Forgive me authenticity mavens for I have sinned. I have
commited the sin of bad heraldry compounded by a twit of a client.

	Four years ago, I was working at the herald's tent, as is my
wont at Pennsic when this guy came in. Face like mush, bad posture,
stupid rawhide, pseudo-Amerind/fantasy barbarian outfit, topped off by a
perfectly good spangenhelm ruined by having a couple of huge bat wings
rivetted to it that look like they'd been cut out of sheet copper with
tin-snips. Really ugly.

	Being a good little bureaucrat, I dutifully coaxed him into
taking a name that sounded plausibly medieval and helped him register
his arms. As you might suspect, this idiot's taste in heraldry was no
better than his fashion sense. He wanted this gawdoffal bat-winged demon
thingymabob on his arms. Of course it didn't conflict with anything -
nobody else would want it - and it WAS plausibily medievalish armory
since heralds did use invented monsters in armory. SIGH.

	45 minutes later I was free of the fool, having decided that his
personality was as lame as his artistic sense. I breathed a sigh of
relief and uttered a prayer that the next client would have a bit more
of a clue. 

	Three years pass....and then as I was carrying ice down from the
store I see this moron in the same get up I saw him in 3 years ago (I
hope he washed it in the meantime) WITH THE ARMS I DESIGNED FOR HIM
TATOOED ON HIS CHEST!!!! ARRRGH!!! What have I done!!!

	Lothar von Frankenstien \|/
                               0

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
From: mjc+ at cs.cmu.edu (Monica Cellio)
Subject: Re: handicapped
Organization: School of Computer Science, Carnegie Mellon
Date: Tue, 31 Aug 1993 16:06:38 GMT

>Out of curiousity, how many folks have had to explain the SCA to their
>physicians?  

Many years ago, when I was still a new fighter, I took a hand shot that 
broke my thumb.  The folks at the ER asked me if I'd hit my thumb with a 
hammer.  Foolish me -- I said no, it was a wooden sword.  I learned my lesson
after having to explain it to a good dozen people there: the proper response
is simply "martial arts injury". :-)

My doctor thinks I'm a big camping/hiking/etc fan; it's easier to let him
believe that than to explain to him why I'll put up with having to camp for
Pennsic.  (Of course, what many of us do when we set up household at Pennsic
could not be called "camping" by many definitions.)

Ellisif

From: salley at niktow.canisius.edu (David Salley)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Telling your doctor about the SCA (was Re: handicapped)
Date: 4 Sep 93 00:50:24 GMT
Organization: Canisius College, Buffalo NY. 14208

Tibor writes:
> Out of curiousity, how many folks have had to explain the SCA to their
> physicians?  I remember my followup visit after retinal surgery.  I
> asked the Doctor "What restrictions are there on me now?"  His flip
> response, in an attempt to say "none", was "Don't take up a sport that
> involves repeated blows to the head, like kick boxing or regular boxing."
> He turned ashen as I asked: "What about a sport where you put on an
> 18 gauge helmet of steel, with foam padding, and are struck repeatedly
> with a length of rattan?"

I go to my doctor's office once a year for my annual physical and to renew the
prescription for my allergy medication.  That's it.  For a long time after
joining the SCA I didn't fight because I couldn't attend fight practice because
I worked during that time.  Then I got squired ... fighter practice once a week,
a pell hanging in my attic, daily exercise plus walking, later running, etc.

Then I went to the doctor's.  I got my physical, the doc wrote down all the
stats, compared them to last year's, looked at me, looked at the clipboard,
looked at me.  

"Are you taking up martial arts or something?" 
	"err... ah...  Well, ... I suppose you could call it that, I guess."  
"You don't want to tell me?" 
	"I'm not sure you'd believe me!"
"Okay, fine.  Don't tell me, then.  But whatever you're doing, you now have
 your doctor's permission to continue doing it.  You've dropped twenty pounds,
 your heartbeat is slower, your breathing is better, and you're in a hell of
 a lot better shape than you were last year.  Whatever it is you're doing,
 keep it up!"

                                                       - Dagonell

SCA Persona : Lord Dagonell Collingwood of Emerald Lake, CSC, CK, CTr
Habitat	    : East Kingdom, AEthelmearc Principality, Rhydderich Hael Barony
Internet    : salley at niktow.cs.canisius.edu
USnail-net  : David P. Salley, 136 Shepard Street, Buffalo, New York 14212-2029

From: grot at acs2.bu.edu (Henry Nadig)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: Telling your doctor about the SCA (was Re: handicapped)
Date: 4 Sep 1993 02:34:28 GMT
Organization: Boston University, Boston, MA, USA

Doctor Stuff Deleted
>
>"Are you taking up martial arts or something?" 
>	"err... ah...  Well, ... I suppose you could call it that, I guess."  
>"You don't want to tell me?" 
>	"I'm not sure you'd believe me!"
>"Okay, fine.  Don't tell me, then.  But whatever you're doing, you now have
> your doctor's permission to continue doing it.  You've dropped twenty pounds,
> your heartbeat is slower, your breathing is better, and you're in a hell of
> a lot better shape than you were last year.  Whatever it is you're doing,
> keep it up!"
>
>                                                       - Dagonell

I have had a recent and almost identical experience.  I went to my doctor
for chronic shoulder sublaxations (Can't throw wraps right in melees).
He poked and proded and said "jeesh, seems pretty stable, what pops it
out?"
After an HOUR long discussion of medieval research, he was asking where
practices were...  Needless to say, he thinks it is way cool.  He also
said I was in better shape because of it....

David of Gower

From: gray at ibis.cs.umass.edu (Lyle FitzWilliam)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: Telling your doctor about the SCA (was Re: handicapped)
Date: 8 Sep 1993 19:20:22 GMT
Organization: Bergental, East Kingdom

In article <1993Sep7.134218.16621 at ccd.harris.com> steve at rtfm.mlb.fl.us writes:
>	My chiropractor told me to take up fighting again at my last visit
>	because I spend too much time just sitting in front of my terminal at
>	work which she feels is worse.

When I first started fighting in the SCA, my chiropractor thought it was a
great idea, and came to several of our practices.  After I injured my knee
falling while roller skating, his response:  "Roller skating?  Now _that_ is
dangerous!"

Lyle FitzWilliam
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lyle H. Gray                       Internet (personal): gray at cs.umass.edu
Quodata Corporation            Phone: (203) 728-6777, FAX: (203) 247-0249

From: Erich.Von.Kleinfeld at f120.n109.z1.fidonet.org (Erich Von Kleinfeld)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Fealty (Was: Appropriate to Court)
Date: Fri, 03 Sep 1993 14:51:34 -0500

Arval & Dennis, discussing things appropriate in court, tickled me
to remember an incident at Sea Wars last.
 
A number of us from North Atlantia had taken a bus to the War,
accompanied by HRM Lucan of the East and several of his warriors.
The bus being our sole mode of transport, we _all_ went to the same
cluster of fast-food places.  In armor.  A number of us wandered
into the nearby Burger King, including HRM Lucan, who was wearing
the oldest of the brass Eastern Crowns (Guess what _it_ looks
like??? :-)).  While we were waiting in line, it chanced to come up
in discussion that Earl Shannon (sp?)  had not yet done fealty to
his majesty.  They adjourned to the seating area, and there did his
Excellency make a most well-wrought oath of fealty to his Majesty. 
 
Stuff doesn't always have to be done in court....

Dexter C. Guptill                  |        Ld. Erich von Kleinfeld
Centreville, VA                    |        Stierbach, Atlantia

From: meg at tinhat.stonemarche.org (meg)
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: Re: multiple personae
Date: Wed, 20 Apr 94 07:52:59 EDT
Organization: Stonemarche Network Co-op

lynch_c at csvax1.ucc.ie (Conor Lynch) writes:

> In article <2DB3064D at courier.sscnet.ucla.edu>, Valdez at polisci.sscnet.ucla.EDU
> 
> >What is the "Dark Horde"?  I'm assuming it's a household of sorts, but can't
> >really be sure after seeing only a couple of references to it.
> 
> >CLynch> As far as I'm aware the "Horde" simply refers to those people who ha
> assumed a mongol persona. I don't know why some are the "Dark Horde" or if
> there is a "Light Horde" or a "Dark Aubergine Horde with orange eyebrows"
> 
> 			Cathal MacBrian/ Conor Lynch
> 

Megan here. This reminds me of the morning at Pennsic 14 or 15 (or when 
ever it was the Horde broke up into many smaller groups) and at 6 am I 
saw a good friend weaving drunkenly down Merchant Row.
     "Hey!" I called out, "Some party, eh? Where've ya been?"
     "Horde camp." he replied.
     "Which one?" I asked, curious.
     "All of 'em!" he answered.
:-)
Megan
== 
In 1994: Linda Anfuso
In the Current Middle Ages: Megan ni Laine de Belle Rive  
In the SCA, Inc: sustaining member # 33644

                                YYY     YYY
meg at tinhat.stonemarche.org      |  YYYYY  |
                                |____n____| 

Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
From: moore at mari.acc.stolaf.edu (Michael Moore/Peregrine the Illuminator)
Subject: Re: multiple personae
Organization: Baronial Colleges of Nordleigh, SCA
Date: Wed, 20 Apr 1994 14:17:28 GMT

In article <CoI6pM.Jro at curia.ucc.ie> lynch_c at csvax1.ucc.ie writes:
>In article <2DB3064D at courier.sscnet.ucla.edu>, Valdez at polisci.sscnet.ucla.EDU (Valdez, Jonathan      POLI SCI) writes:
>
>>What is the "Dark Horde"?  I'm assuming it's a household of sorts, but can't
>>really be sure after seeing only a couple of references to it.
>
>>CLynch> As far as I'm aware the "Horde" simply refers to those people who have
>assumed a mongol persona. I don't know why some are the "Dark Horde" or if
>there is a "Light Horde" or a "Dark Aubergine Horde with orange eyebrows"
>
>			Cathal MacBrian/ Conor Lynch
>
I know not if the Dark Horde has spread to other kingdoms: here in the
Middle, the Dark Horde is a specific household, generally based on mongol
personas (though the best Mongol Spy is the one in Italian Renaissance
garb--you'ld never know they were a spy!).  Stories are told about their
beginnings, when two famous people whose names I don't recall, and
some guy named Yang the Nauseating, also known as Robert Aspirin, came
to an event in furs and skins, bristling with knives.  It quickly grew
into a culture of its own, based on loyalty to your horde brothers,
not loyalty to any power figure like royalty.  

Stories abound about the horde: there is a tradition somewhere that
when the King and Queen are absent from the throne, they leave their
Crown on the throne, and people bow to the crown as a symbol of the
Royal prescence.  Well, one day, the crown was being well guarded by 
many fighters good and true... in front of the thrones.  Behind the thrones
was a good deal of space, and no guards.  So, some member of the Horde
wandered up behind the thrones, and the crown mysteriously disappeared.

When Court was called, and the King came up to the thrones in grand procession,
he got to the throne and bent to pick up his crown... turned around, and
looked very foolish.  He made various commands and impassioned speeches,
finally declaring that if the crown was not found in such-and-such amount of
time, he would declare the event over, and would not come back.

Meanwhile, back in the Horde, the crown had passed from cloak to cloak,
keeping "hidden" (save to the people who could obviously see that
_something_ was going on), finally coming to rest in a cabinet in one
of the classrooms of the site (yes, we have indoor sites: we don't
stop just because it's too cold to be outside).  One of the Hordefolk
took a piece of paper from the pile in the cabinet and set it on
top of the crown.  They expected someone to find it when they searched,
so they hid behind some curtains to watch the fun.

The King's squires, knights, and other helpers looked high and 
low for the crown, finally coming to the room wherein hid the horde and the 
crown.  They looked in desks, they looked in closets, and they finally
looked in the cabinet.  Three knights and a squire stared into the
cabinet for a few minutes, then closed it... without noticing the crown.

Finally, one intrepid horde lady decided enough was enough.  She got
all of the people she could find who had cloaks to line up along the
edge of the space, and told them that at her signal, they should spread
out their cloaks.  There were enough to reach from behind the crowd
to behind the thrones.

She gave the signal, and whoof! an instant wall of cloaks appeared.
She ran behind them all the way up to behind the thrones, deposited
the crown back on the king's throne, and ran all the way back.

And noone noticed a thing.

The king, finally so livid he couldn't stand it, began ranting and
raving, stating that this was grand theft, and that if this group
of people couldn't protect a throne that was sitting right there
in front ... of... everyone...    And as the king pointed down
to his throne, and to the little gold crown camly sitting there
minding its own business, his face turned a flaming fuschia, he 
grabbed the crown, jammed it on his head, flumped down on the throne,
and said, "court is now in session."

I am not a member of the horde.  Therefore, I can't quite get
across the wonderful feeling of stories where the Royalty (and any other
symbols of power) become fools, and the commonfolk are the 
mischief-makers.  There are hordefolk who might be willing to post a good
story or two.

The Dark Horde keeps us humbly aware that we are human.

Peregrine

p.s. yes, I'm a cockeyed optimist.   How could you tell?
p.p.s. in answer to the "Light Horde" and the "pink and purple
polkadot horde" (so I can answer before someone comes along who
might not be so optimistic), the Dark Horde became two some years
ago ("but milord, it's head split! right down the middle! Crosswise!!"),
one known as the Dark Horde, the other as the Moritu (or, if you will,
Classic Horde and Horde Light).  Personality conflicts in households
of well over 1,000 members can be volatile.  Let that be a lesson to you.
p.p.p.s. famous Horde member quote: "well, I could tell you that secret,
but then I'd have to kill you."

From: xxx at postoffice.utas.edu.au ()
Newsgroups: rec.org.sca
Subject: The lady and the Wyrm (a true story)
Date: Wed, 27 Apr 1994 22:15:23 +1000
Organization: University of Tasmania (Australia)

Greeting all:

Maybe this one should have been under the heading "You know you are in the
SCA..."   well... you be the judge

Earlier this year, at the height of our Austral Summer, my good lady wife
and three small daughters had remained at home one Saturday morning whilst
I was at the University catching up with some work.  Romille, my wife, is
fond of sleeping-in on Saturday mornings, and consequently as the clock
struck the hour of 10 before noon, she was still peacefully asleep.  Our
three daughters however, were not...

At about that time, the eldest came into our bedroom and shouted, "Mummy,
mummy, there is a snake on the verandah!"  thinking this was a figment of
the 7-year old's imagination, my still-sleepy wife said something along the
lines of "that's nice" and kept on sleeping.  This performance was repeated
a few minutes later, but by then Romille thought she should really go and
check that it WAS all a mistake.   So, still somewhat not-all-there, the
Lady went out the kitchen door to be confronted by a parent's worse
nightmare.   Just a couple of metres away, sunning itself, lay a curled up
Tiger Snake, our most poisonous snake, capable of killing an adult in
minutes.  Just an arms-lengh further on were three delighted children
fascinated by the sleeping reptile.  After quietly telling the girls to
move away, Romille went back inside the house to see what was available to
deal with the intruder.  Ours being a somewhat typical SCA household, the
first things she saw was an old (pulped) tourney sword of mine, and the
live-steel falchion which was the trophy for winning the Baronial Monthly
Tourney.  

Taking these weapons in hand, the Lady went forth to do battle with the
Wyrm...

To cut a long story short, Romille used the rattan sword to hold the
snake's head down, whilst the steel falchion swooped down and struck off
the reptile's head.

When I returned home that evening, I was greeted by a very smug wife, three
amazed daughters, and one very dead Tiger snake stuck inside a large glass
jar.

...And thus it was that our Baronial Falchion was blooded in the breast of
the Wyrm.

Martin de Mont Blanc

Barony of Ynys Fawr
Lochac/West

mka...
------------------------------------------------------------------
Alex Tewes
ga_tewes at minke.iasos.utas.edu.au

Institute of Antarctic and Southern Ocean Studies
University of Tasmania (Australia)

phone:  +61 02 20 2643
        +61 02 39 1427

<the end>