From the Front Lines: June Faire

June Faire was the first weekend in June.

Yes, I'm more than a little behind on posting.

I participated in the 1st may become annual bardic competition of June Faire. It was a fairly standard head-to-head, fixed topic, contest. I did King Rorik for "War" and Dulcinea for "Love" and lost both rounds. Sigh. To be fair, there was some excellent competition out there. For one thing, there were bagpipes. I had never heard the Star Wars theme on bagpipes before, but now I have. :-)

I spent most of my time, however, with the Moneyer's Guild. Yes, that means 'almost all the time the Faire was open Saturday and about half of Sunday.' We were doing the fund raiser thing again, and I spent most of my time doing the demo/sales pitch.

We did take a little time Sunday, however, to give three of us (myself included) our Journeyman's Oaths. I am now a Journeyman of the Moneyer's Guild of An Tir. :-)

From the Frontlines: Ursulmas

The feast of St. Ursul of Aquaterra was once again celebrated this year with violence and commerce.

Hmm. Maybe the mainstream holidays aren't the only ones becoming commercialized... :-)

This year for the first time in at least five years the main activities were split between two halls (so with the archery/thrown weapons we had three locations). It is my opinion that this didn't work very well; not enough cross-traffic between the fighting (heavy, rapier, and YAC were located in one hall) and the rest (merchants, A&S, etc.).

Lord Nigel, our current Baronial Bardic Champion, however, was an overachiever again and got a number of bards to perform in pre-scheduled slots on a 'stage' (backdrop, seating, and everything) throughout both days. Wanting to encourage this, I did a slot Saturday and one Sunday (30-40 minutes each) despite having the tail end of a cold. The audiences were small (about a dozen people at peak for either of my performances) but responsive. I hope we do it again next year.

House Weir (which has near-complete overlap with the Emerald Rain dance troupe) did a static display instead of dancing this year; everything a moorish woman would have had with her while traveling. Most of us pitched in something as well as the documentation for it (clothing, jewelry, food, furnishings, etc.). Somewhat to my surprise we won Best Static Display. I'd half forgotten there WAS a Best Static Display award!

I participated in the youth scavenger hunt, composed a story tying the various stages of it together (made a knife at A&S, went to Thrown Weapons to try it out, hurt myself and needed a Chiurgeon, etc.), and at the end each person got to make a quickie copy of a period board game (I chose an Roman form of tic-tac-toe). It was quite fun though I got a few odd looks.

All in all a good event, but I really hope we can re-unite the two major sections in one place next year.

From the Frontlines: Good Yule

I went to Good Yule this year with the expectation that I would be doing a lot of entertaining – both before and during the feast.

As it happened I only performed once (Save me a Seat in Valhalla), but I had fun anyway.

With my unexpected free time I entered the games championship. I won twice and lost twice in Byzantine Chess (often known as round chess or circular chess), and concluded that bishops in Byzantine Chess are weak and pitiful. I also taught a young girl how to play. I was a finalist in the Tafl tournament (a Norse game), finally losing to the champion in a sudden death round. I also taught three people how to play Tafl.

After the feast I helped with cleanup. I had no idea the Barony owned so many dishes.

From the Home Front: Persona Dinner

On the 28th of November I attended a Persona Dinner at a friend’s house.

A Persona Dinner is one where everyone acts, for the whole meal, as if they were their SCA persona – no talk about movies or facebook or anything. It is an acting challenge – improv theater, if you will. For two hours or so I was Roger Gridley, a late 16th century English mercenary officer serving in Italy, saying the things Roger would say.

The co-hosts both had 10th century Moorish personas which made things interesting – one of them had Roger Gridley written into her own persona as a family relation and was something of a rule-breaker anyway so we could talk, but the other had no family connection with me and thus could not speak to me (she was unmarried, to make it worse). I could speak to her (and in fact my Roger would have been expected to speak to unrelated unmarried women fairly freely in his time and place), of course, which led her to address several answers to other guests (female, of course) or at one point mumbled to the table!

Also in attendance were an early 16th century Italian woman, a 10th century Moorish child (with a persona relation to the hosts but none in real life), a 15th century English couple, and a woman who didn’t really have a persona at all.

Under these circumstances odd things happen – Roger had no idea what a yurt was, so someone had to spend some time explaining it to him even though I knew perfectly well what one was. Roger made some comments on the certainties of military science that reflected the thoughts of the time but are idiotic to today’s eyes (the supremacy of the pike for example). Tomatoes were widely considered poisonous in some of our cultures but not others. Much of the conversation, of course, was us talking about ourselves.

As the hosts were Moors no wine or other alcoholic beverage was served, which Roger gently twitted his hostess about.

The food was excellent and I believe quite period (though prepared using modern equipment). We ate off more-or-less period serving dishes and tableware and were of course in full period garb. We sat on cushions at a low table as befitting 10th century Moors which I had no trouble simulating Roger’s awkwardness with. :-}

I considered apologizing to my hostess for the poor showing I made on the basis that I was on campaign and my baggage was stuck on the road (my SCA garb is oriented towards fighting or campaigning rather than court or dinner wear) but chose not to bring it up. I also wore a somewhat earlier-period sword than Roger would have normally carried.

All in all it was a great deal of fun and gave me a boost in motivation on updating my garb.

From the Rear Echelon: Midhaven Ithra

Midhaven ran a small Ithra, but a fun one. Lunch was provided both days by a highly skilled kitchen crew.

First class Saturday morning I took an English Country Dance class and managed not to damage anyone. One of the dances was a circle dance which included several parts where all the guys move into the center and clap which we hammed up increasingly as we went through it. The ladies rotated between laughing at us and rolling their eyes at us.

Second class was persona development – the instructor spent part of it In Persona. Yes, she earned the Capital Letter Form. She’s a 12th century Moorish woman and simply did not acknowledge the males in the class who were not family. She expressed sympathy for women who had no children, and shock at the one who’s husband helped raise their children. She promised to pray for several people including me.

Saturday afternoon I took two classes on the new heraldry rules and submission process because I really, really, need to get moving on registering my name and device. I was, after all, given my AoA over two years ago (and by the hand of no less than then-Queen Miranda!). Luckily it doesn’t seem like much has changed and the few changes will probably make it easier or at least no harder.

Sunday I took a class entitled “Madonnas, Sluts, and Ladies” about female roles in period. This was a fascinating study of not just what the roles were, but why they were that way and how they came to be that way. I would like to emphasize that the SCA is very different from period in its ideas on gender roles, though we retain many of the more attractive parts (chivalry and such).

Cooking for large groups (basically about the difference between cooking for five in a fully stocked modern kitchen and cooking for fifty in the middle of nowhere) and another class on heraldry rounded out the event.

I was in quite august company for Sunday lunch – my table included a duchess, a baroness, and a double peer (knight and pelican) – more the crowd I’d expect at head table at a feast than eating with me. All three of them were people I knew at least fairly well and respected highly. I’m inherently a respecter of hierarchies, and know my place in the SCA (low, though by no means the bottom and with considerable potential to rise). Actually as of writing this I’m #5,708 on the Kingdom Order of Precedence (out of 6,129).

From the Children's Crusade

This past weekend was Banner War. Normally, this is where the various households of the Barony compete with each other. This year there was an unusual (I’m going to guess unprecedented) entry: Youth Armored Combat.

In the SCA, we train our children from an early age to kill. Starting out well before their teens with glorified pool noodles called ‘boffers’, and working up to scaled-down versions of adult armor and weapons, the next generation of knights get an early start. Youth Armored Combat is the ‘upper level’ of this progression, one step shy of adult heavy combat.

I suppose some people may find this disturbing, but I frankly find it quite refreshing, as while exact results vary YAC members tend to be better people than the general run of children these days. Sure, they hit people with sticks – but only if the people being hit have sticks too. There is also a great deal to be said for conditioning children to come to a screeching halt at the command “HOLD!”

YAC, understandably, gained considerable support from both households and mercenaries (I joined their cause for a glass of wine and a cookie), and based on Saturday evening’s court were well on their way to winning the war.

I spent much of Saturday working on my mon die and making my first bunch (small bead). The former went quite well thanks to some guidance from Master Raymond, the latter proved quite tricky.

While there are many ways to make punches here’s the one I’m using. You start with concrete nails (chosen because they are readily available steel chunks in about the right size and shape). Heat to cherry-red at the tip then let cool to soften them. Easy. Now using files and sandpaper form the tip into the right shape. Very, very hard. This is handwork to a higher standard than many machine processes will produce – the goal is a perfectly hemispherical head of just the right size. Still working on this. Once the shape is right (do a gentle test punch on soft metal), harden with the torch (tip to cherry red again and quench), clean, and then temper (heat back from the tip until it is just turning yellow and quench). This will produce a punch hard enough to use on your die without wearing down too quickly.

I competed in the Vox Off after a number of years of meaning to without getting around to it. Vox Off is voice heraldry in its various forms – court, field, town cry, and presentation. Each contestant is given a number of pieces to read (getting about 30 seconds prior to starting to speak to review the material for each) at various distances from the judges (5 to 40 yards). You are graded on how well you could be understood, your pronunciation of proper names (including the odd Welsh or Gaelic one to trip you up), your general tone and style (different for the different forms) and in the case of field heraldry what you say. Field heraldry is acting as an announcer for a tournament. Each fighter generally writes their name and title(s) on a card and hands it to you. You then get to figure out how to properly announce them and in what order (“Duke Sir Sharpsword, Sergeant to Baroness Wisdom” gets announced as “Duke Sharpsword” and needs to be introduced before “Count Bigshield”). The material ranges from perfectly serious (actual award presentations) to humorous (fencers being advised not to trip over their own lace and ruffles while entering the field) to fiendishly difficult (Norse and Middle English passages). Two of us read the oath Tolkien used for Gondor’s knights of the Citadel (used by some SCA groups as an oath of fealty). I had to read section of a Norse Edas (translated to modern English; they’re not THAT evil) in a format I’d never encountered before. As you may have gathered, the contest is as much about finding and training new heralds as it is about seeing who can speak loudly and clearly. Three of us entered, and I came out the winner! Being a veteran bard was a big help. I thus was able to score three warpoints for YAC. Total of five points to YAC and one to Redstone for Vox.

Redstone also put their banner up, as did a few other houses whose names I didn’t get. Methelstede helped run YACs entry, and Red Plague was, surprisingly enough, absent.

Overall, much more successful than the real children’s crusade. Not that that was a high bar to reach…

From the Frontlines: Autumn War

Autumn War is so named because it takes place in the… um… well, summer, actually. Hey, it’s the SCA, we’re lucky it isn’t in the spring.

First off, the downsides: it was a frustrating drive both ways – in fact a google-predicted ~2.5 hour drive was almost exactly 4 hours each way. A four hour drive is not inherently bad for me, but an expected 2.5 hour drive (OK, I expected 3 hours) that becomes a 4 hour drive is highly annoying. Oh well. Also while helping setup for bardic the second night a spark from the fire burned a hole in my best shirt – fixable, but why did it have to be my best shirt?

Upsides, however, were more numerous, so let’s talk about them.

First off, Methelstede performed two showings of Arlecchino’s Surprise (in which Arlecchino has exactly one line and never appears on stage). In the second showing I provided the sound and visual effects for Ugolino (sp?) from offstage. We also did one showing of Arlecchino and the Cup of Love (the same show we did at June Faire) with me again being Lelio. I think the cast is a little burned out right now and we have no solid plans for future showings, though the general feeling seemed to be that we’d like to do a play again in the not-too-distant future. It is possibly worth noting that both the plays are written by a SCAdian using the characters and style of a set of plays from late-period Italy. The best short description I can come up with is that these plays were a proto-sitcom; the characters remain the same (and never change from episode to episode regardless of what happens) but the situations are different, and there are running gags despite the lack of any continuity of plot (so while Fiorenetta and Capitano are married in Surprise they are not married and never have been in Cup of Love). This presumably made things easier for both the audience, the writers, and the cast, as everyone would know, for example, that Pantalone was an old miser as soon as his name was mentioned.

Second, I created fire. Sure, using modern tools I do that all the time. At Autumn War, however, I created fire using nothing but a piece of flint, a steel striker, a few pieces of charred cloth, and some unraveled rope. This was a common way to start a fire in period (the bow method taught to boy scouts is more primitive and time consuming, and things like pre-made matches or flintlock strikers were too expensive for routine use where they existed at all). You can probably find a video online somewhere, but let me tell you it is harder than it looks. Getting sparks from striking steel on flint is easy. Making charred cloth is easy (though it is also easy to do it wrong). Finding a bird’s nest or a bit of old rope and making the nest is easy. Getting the spark from the steel to catch on the cloth and then blowing at just the right increasing level of force to ignite the nest is VERY HARD. The teacher demonstrated and had a solid flame well under a minute after he started striking (setup took a little longer). None of the three of us in the class came anywhere close to that. We did all manage flame in the end, but my flint had been chipped almost to the point of uselessness. At a guess I spent the better part of ten minutes not counting breaks and went through 20 or so pieces of charred cloth (maybe more). I will stick to modern firestarting methods wherever possible.

Third, I marshaled for some very fun rapier war scenarios. The first had a ‘ship’ (an oval slightly pointed on one end) laid out on the ground. On it were some red pieces of cloth representing fire. Yes, fire. See, these other guys came along and attacked the represented ship but forgot the key sequence of pillage THEN burn. Still, even smoky loot is loot, so they boarded anyway. Meanwhile one of the best fighters in the group was picked to act as The Kraken. The Kraken fought with case (a rapier in each hand), and would go around, tap someone near the edge of the ship, and require them to step off and fight him. If they won they got to go back to the burning ship (yay!). If they lost… well, they were eaten. Stepping on the fire was also counted as a kill. The second scenario was “The Water of Life” – a free-for-all where everyone gets a paper cup with water in it (any amount of water you want). Every time you are killed you must show one of the marshals that you still have enough water to cover the bottom of the cup and you get to go back in – an unlimited number of resurrections as long as you have water. Naturally this leads to people aiming for the cups. This is quite amusing for all involved, and leads to a large number of jokes.

The weather was much better than anticipated over the weekend thanks to a heavy overcast Saturday and Sunday (Friday it was well over 90 and sunny, but I didn’t arrive until Friday evening). Only a few scattered drops of rain fell, and the night time temperatures were some of the warmest I’ve ever seen (it generally gets very cold in a tent at night around here). Methelstede camped with Key Point, who also had Black Company camping with them, and Key Pointe provided breakfast and dinner for a reasonable fee (good food too – omelets to order, duck soup, deep-fried bacon, pasta with ham and cheese…). The inevitable bardic circles suffered a little from the camp setup and the fact that we performed the plays in the evenings just beforehand but they were still fun (“Not the knight with the shiniest armor in all the land, the finest horse in all the world, who has defeated the seven greatest nights in the seven tourneys in the seven kingdoms and slain the dragon!” “Yes I am the knight with the shiniest armor in all the land, the finest horse…”).

Overall it was a good event, but I’m quite glad there isn’t one this weekend!

From the Recruiting Station: WA Ren Faire

Saturday I went to the local Ren Faire.

My perspective on Ren Faires has changed since I became a belly dancer and as I become more experienced in the SCA. I watched a trio of dancers (along with some other people from the troop who showed up) and found myself critiquing them for things like touching the ‘live’ edge of the dance sword, etc. I also considered their garb from a much more experienced eye – down to figuring out how they’d made their tops.

There were some entertaining acts (including a ‘Robin Hood’ show that used children recruited from the audience as actors/props), but most importantly I was recruited into a company of pike with sleeves of shot. It was admittedly a very short tour of duty, of course.

The demo group had a little over a dozen people including a sergeant, an ensign, two arquebusiers, and eight pike(wo)men. I include the feminine form because I think almost half of them were. They had some extra pikes (both adult and children’s sizes) which they loaned out, forming two ranks of novices behind the two ranks of veterans. They then taught us how to hold our pikes, march with our pikes, how to form a pike square (with only sixteen pikemen a very SMALL square), and the different angles to use for fighting infantry and cavalry. Finally they actually had us wheel about the center of the square (which is a LOT harder than it sounds for any formation, much less one holding ten foot pikes), and posed us to fight while the arquebusiers fired a volley (yeah, there were only two of them – they fired at the same time so it was a volley). As my SCA persona is an officer in a company of pike it was a doubly enjoyable experience. I’m seriously considering seeking them out for further persona development.

FYI, “sleeves of shot” is the period term for a company of infantry that had men with firearms, normally arquebuses, since very early on the gunmen were kept to the edges of the formation so as not to disturb the order of pikes. This was because the pikes were considered the real power of the formation. It was not until the end of the SCA period that the pike square was replaced by the more flexible rotating line formations that allowed the arquebus to become the dominant weapon.

From the Frontlines: Freedom Fest

This past weekend (see, I’m almost caught up!) was Naval Station Everett’s annual ‘Freedom Fest’; their public day. One of the things they do is have community groups come in and give out information and demos. One such group, naturally, being the SCA.

It is more than a little odd to do a demo of 16th century swordfighting next to an HMMWV with a ring-mounted M240 machine gun. OTOH, the picture of me, in garb, in the turret is nifty.

One of our big draws at demos is that we give children ~2 foot long ‘swords’ (glorified pool noddles), and let them do battle with similarly armed veteran SCA fighters (such as myself). The children have superior numbers, energy, and generally a complete disregard for possible injuries to themselves and/or others. We have superior skill. Impressively enough when we employ that skill, the fighting tends to be pretty even despite 2:1 or 3:1 odds. Naturally we hold back a little if for no other reason than we ARE aware that you can actually inflict an injury with a glorified pool noodle, plus we actually acknowledge the hits we take, so the kids generally win. Great fun is had by all (often including the parents), and it makes a good crowd draw, plus where else can you say you spent hours beating up little children and get away with it?

I also got to do some actual fencing with Vladimir; it seems that while I am rusty I have retained my core skills much better than I had feared.

The Navy was doing ship tours – including a pair of Oliver H. Perry class FFGs. I visited the USS Ingraham (FFG61), the last of the Perrys built. We saw the main deck, upper deck (including the bridge), hanger, and fo’c’sle. I was interested to note a hard-bound copy of Janes Fighting Ships 2011-2012 (right next to Janes Merchant Ships). They also had a plaque up commemorating the prior USS Ingraham (DD694), an Allen M. Sumner class destroyer commissioned in 1944, herself named after USS Ingraham (DD444) a Gleaves class destroyer commissioned in mid 1941 and sunk in late 1942. She, in turn, was preceded by USS Ingraham (DD111) a Wickes class destroyer commissioned in 1919 and sunk as a target in 1937. The US Navy does like reusing names. I’ve always liked the Perrys, due in no small part to their ‘balanced’ initial weapons fit which made them very useful in wargames.

It is also rather pleasant to deal with REAL security. Granted, there weren’t many Marines around (actually, I didn’t spot any for sure), but the Navy realizes that real security checkpoints have rifles, concrete barriers, and people using their brains rather than detuned metal detectors, 2oz containers of liquids, and officially sanctioned sexual assaults. I was a little surprised, noting one MA with an M4, that the Navy hasn’t made ACOGs general issue (the Marines have one on every rifle these days). I suppose on shipboard the ACOGs advantages are rather reduced, and the price tag is notable (on the same order as the rifle it is mounted on). The petty officer giving the tour was an electronics tech, so we were treated to a brief description of every antenna on the ship (OK, he probably skipped a few). I also observed that either they are making very young ensigns these days, or I am getting old.

“Old” of course coming from the man touring a missile frigate wearing clothing that last saw shipboard use when muzzle-loading cannon were the hot new concept for shipboard weapons.

From the Frontlines: Boar’s Hunt/Champions

I made a brief appearance at Boar’s Hunt, which this year was combined with Aquaterra Champions. I served as one of three judges for the three Bardic entrants. In addition to the usual songs, stories, and music, Lord Nigel did a period slight-of-hand routine; the classic cups-and-balls act is still done today.

It was quite odd to be on the other side of the judging; of course I’ve made private assessments of other bards, and passed on my share of compliments, but I’ve never done a formal judging and scoring before. I don’t know that it will make me a better bard, but it was an interesting experience, and I was flattered to be considered worthy of being a judge.

From the Frontlines: June Faire XXX

June Faire is, like Ursulmas, a regular event that is open to the public.

All through grade school and high school I did theater. Usually I was an actor, but in high school I spent a fair amount of time as stage crew. Then I went to college and my active role in theater came to a screeching halt. At Ursulmas I was asked to join a crew putting together a production of Arlecchino and the Cup of Love (a farce comedy written by a member of the SCA, set in period Verona). Doing a production as an adult is a rather different feel (especially the cast party!) from my younger years. The variation of experience in the cast is much greater – we had novices who’d never acted before, and a few who’d been acting longer than I’ve been alive.

We did an invitation-only dress rehearsal, but our real opening was at June Faire, where we did two showings on Saturday.

Performing outdoors with a jury-rigged stage is also quite different from performing in a conventional theater or auditorium. The weather demonstrated this with an assortment of conditions from bright sunshine to rain, from too warm to too cold; cast members at the first show were fanning themselves backstage, during the second three of the female members of the cast gratefully huddled under my cloak. Traffic noise from the road behind us was also an issue. The sun set during the second show, and we finished the play by the light of propane torches.

All in all the play went well, with a decent house for both shows who did quite a bit of laughing, mostly when we expected them to.

And then there was the cast party.

The director and the majority of the actors were from House Methelstede, an Aquaterra house known for its bards. Naturally, therefore, our cast party included a bardic circle. We were rolling along nicely when the camp was hailed, and half a dozen bards and minstrels, including the Bards of Key Point entered! I finally turned in, exhausted, at 3AM, and I’m told that the circle didn’t break up until sunrise. In addition to some truly awesome songs and stories I got to perform a story as proxy for another bard and found someone who knew the lyrics to a song I’d been hunting for.

Words really fail me – it was a truly amazing night.

And June Faire wasn’t over yet.

Sunday I spent most of the day with the Moneyer’s Guild, which was doing a fundraiser – selling examples of our coins. I gave the ‘making money the old-fashioned way’ spiel about two hundred times to mundanes, and the guild sold over a hundred coins (the storekeeper apparently credited my salesmanship with the bulk of the sales). I also struck my first groat – a larger coin than the usual pennies. Most importantly, however, I formally swore my apprentice oath to the Moneyer’s Guild of An Tir. Three other new apprentices were also sworn in, one of whom is almost ready to be a journeyman. For that matter I’ve completed two of the five requirements for being a journeyman (making 100 blank coins by various means and working as a two-man striking team) and am working on the third (my mon die).

A mon die is used to strike the reverse of a coin. In period this allowed the king to know who to chop body parts off of (yes, literally – the middle ages were not all chivalry and deeds of honor) if the coins turned out to have less precious metal than they were supposed to. The guild requires this to be in a 13th century English style – also known as the ‘long cross penny’ (many good images show up on a Google search). Note that unlike modern coins, the same obverse (or face) of a coin would appear with several different reverses (backs) depending on who struck them.

From the Frontlines: Ursulmas XXX

At Ursulmas, I struck gold.

OK, I helped strike gold. A gold coin, to be precise.

Gold, unlike pewter, needs to be ‘hot struck’. This means that the metal blank needs to be heated (literally red-hot) just prior to striking. We used a three-man crew: one heating the blank (a little bit of antique gold found by a prospector with a metal detector), one holding the die ready to place it on the coin (me) and one ready to swing the hammer. We did two practice strikes on a metal called ‘merlin’s gold’ (which has very little actual gold) to get the technique right.

Why is striking gold such a big deal for a moneyer? Well, we don't get to do it much. Economics is a harsh master. Pewter, our usual medium for coins, runs around $30 a pound, give or take. Silver, the most common period metal and what we pretend our pewter actually is, runs around $30 an ounce.

Gold is currently around $50... a GRAM. That one tiny coin we struck had a metal value of several hundred dollars.

I did a whole bunch of other moneying stuff, including something new to me: making blanks by pouring pewter into round molds in order to make early-period coins. This produces a larger and rougher blank than the rolling/hammering process I’ve gotten used to, but on the plus side requires much less in the way of materials.

I danced with Emerald Rain, doing a stick dance with Misty (mock combat, each of us armed with two wooden sticks about two and a half feet long).

From the Frontlines: Good Yule / Last Hunt

Note: Good Yule / Last Hunt took place December 3rd, 2011. Yeah, I'm THAT far behind.

After six years, basically the same period of time I’ve been in the Barony, Hauk and Rosamund stepped down as Baron and Baroness. I’m sad to see them go – I felt they were very good leaders for our Barony, and their stability stands in stark contrast to the King and Queen, where we get a new one every six months. That makes it hard for me to connect with them or feel any real loyalty; I’ve gone entire reigns without even seeing the King or Queen. Luckily at the same event they were made Court Baron and Baroness by Their Majesties, so I can keep calling them “Your Excellency”.

It is an interesting insight into feudalism; my first loyalty is to Aquaterra, though I certainly consider myself a citizen of An Tir as a whole. The reverse is true of my mundane loyalties; despite being a fanatical constitutionalist, and thus highly supportive of the independent roles of the state and local governments, my first loyalty is to the United States as a whole, not Washington State and certainly not Snohomish County or the town of Lake Stevens. But in the SCA, even when I compete for An Tir against the West or some other kingdom, I’m still highly conscious that I’m doing so as a representative of Aquaterra.

I helped make a presentation to the new Baron and Baroness on behalf of the moneyers guild; scattering our off-strikes to the crowd while Raymond presented the good ones to Their Excellencies (a special minting for their ascension, many of which I’d helped strike earlier in the event).

Somewhat to my chagrin, I was awarded the Order of the Plate (the Barony’s first level Arts and Sciences award). Chagrin, because they first tried to find me to present it to in June! Apparently I’ve missed quite a few courts.

From the Frontlines: Banner War XV

OK, yes, Banner War was a fair bit back. If I'd used period means to send the report most of my loyal readers (both of you) would have gotten it already.

I fought for the Red Plague, which last year issued an appeal to the households to fight under their own banners, as Banner War had become a nearly bi-partisan event. Their plea was heeded, and quite a few banners from households great and small flew over the war.

I actually won a pair of warpoints, one for Best Death in Rapier and one for Best Story in Bardic.

The Best Death: I was stabbed in the neck, and grabbed my opponent's blade. He slowly shoved forward all the way to the hilt (always nice when they play along). I dropped to my knees, and he walked off, commenting that he didn't NEED his sword anymore. I fell to the ground, slowly pulling the blade from my neck... and he came back and collected his sword. :-)

Best Story: we were challenged to make all our Bardic pieces involve the number 15 (being Banner War XV), and we had to keep them under three minutes. I announced that I refused to use the required number, and told the following story.

"I first heard this tales year ago, when I was a little less than half my current age of 31 years. It happened in the 1400's, or perhaps the following century. There was a war between three lords, and to negotiate a peace they decided to meet in a clearing between 14 and 16 miles from the nearest town. To avoid treachery, each would come accompanied only by four of his knights. And on the appointed day these three lords each with their four knights, totaling twelve knights and three lords, met upon the chosen ground. Now this clearing was marked by an ancient Roman statue. No one knew who it might be, for the only writing that remained upon it were the letters 'XV'. The lords negotiated for half a day and three hours more, and finally decided that the forty-five square miles of land would be divided equally between them. Thus was forged a peace that lasted until the six year old son of one of the lords turned twenty-one and inherited his father's title, whereupon he began a war that lasted for a score less five years. But that is another story."

I also sang several verses of "Fight for the Banners of Scarlet" in honor of the Red Plague.

From the Frontlines: Warren War

This past weekend, the Canadians once again tried to invade the US, but the valiant forces of Aquaterra were able to stop them and capture Point Roberts at Warren War.

The weather was nice and mild. Warren War this year had possibly the vaguest schedule yet seen in the SCA, with morning court on Saturday being listed as "Opening court will begin at the time of Her Majesty's choosing."

At morning court Her Majesty was presented with a tiny cup of coffee grounds and informed that this was the entire crop grown on Point Roberts this past year. Both Aquaterra's own Baron Hauk and the Baron of Lion's Gate felt that they could do better, and were forced to go to war to determine who would get the land in order to prove it.

Eight fighters showed up for rapier; four Aquaterrans including myself, two other southerners, one local, and one Canadian. This rather small invading force was augmented by everyone except the native Aquaterrans, and further bolstered by a large arsenal of Rubber Band Guns, including an RBG musket. We fought hard, but ultimately lost. I did have some success in one scenario reloading RBGs and firing past my fellow fighters to pick off the opposition. In addition to a road battle with RBGs there was a Champion's Duel, a Papal Ascendancy scenario (Spanish and Italian Popes), Capture the Useful Chainmail Stick (with RBGs), and a free-for-all. In addition to loosing the war point, I was unable to find two of my RBG shot after the last scenario.

I threw knives, watched Bocci Biffy Ball between the Sergeants of Aquaterra and Lion's Gate (we lost), and then came evening court.

For those of you who didn't already look at the image above, look at it now. That, my friends, is an Award of Arms. :-) It was presented to my by the Queen herself, from her hand to mine. She also gifted me with a token of her favor (the necklace in the top-left corner) to mark the event. Now I *really* need to work on my name and device...

There were three entrants for Bardic including myself, including only a single person from Lion's Gate. Again, however, numbers failed to prevail. This was an unusual bardic contest, being judged mostly on keeping in persona for the pieces. I did the Prologue to Henry V. I couldn't restrain myself, however, from making my second piece 'Dear Kindly Local Herald': a filk of Officer Krumpke (West Side Story) about the trials and perils of submitting one's name and device to the college of heralds. Once again, the Bunny Bard is someone else. Sigh.

Despite the losses I witnessed, however, Aquaterra did prevail overall.

From the Frontlines: Midhaven Champions

July 31st was the Shire of Midhaven Champion's tourney. I entered in rapier and bardic, and won neither. Handing over the bardic champion's regalia was a little sad, but I wouldn't have had it any other way if I'd been the judge.

I also got one of the highest compliments a bard can get - the winner performed one of my songs! The new An Tir warsong I wrote for Aquaterra's Championship early this year, in fact.

It appears that the Bards of Key Point and I will be dueling for quite some time to come. I'm looking forward to it. :-)

After the bardic competition (single entry - mine was 'Life's Flame' with a few guitar chords and notes that I'd managed to learn for it), we did a bardic circle. Among other pieces, I improvised an ode to chocolate in its many forms. Last night I was told that my bardic abilities impressed another bard enough that they sought out my bellydance teacher (thinking she was also my bardic teacher), and spoke to her at length about how good I was. :-)

Overall it was fun, and I'll be back next year for sure.

From the Frontlines: Boar's Hunt

Saturday was Boar's Hunt. While SCA autocrats have a less than stellar reputation for publishing event information prior to the event, this year's hit a new low. The major attractions (the midieval village and the tavern night) got little or no publicity, and the schedule wasn't put up until the morning of the event, by which time most people were already on site or had decided not to go!

Neither the rapier marshal nor the rapier champion were contacted to set up rapier.

Still, the weather was nice, the village was interesting, the tavern was fun, and the three rapier fighters that showed up and geared up (myself included) had a good time.

Mostly, however, I'm going to talk about making money.

One of the demos at the village was Master Raymond of the Moneyer's Guild. A quick demo became an extended demo as I asked more questions and asked to try my hand at more and more steps, and finally he let me do about a third of the work (by my estimate) of making a little over 100 pewter coins (above) each about the size of a dime, from scratch. He'd already melted the pewter, formed it into sheets, and made the dies, but I helped roll it down, cut out all the blanks, and struck or helped strike (we did two-person striking for most of them) all the coins. In the process I learned a great deal about how period coins were made (not just the methed we used, either), and thus why they look the way they do. Being generous, he awarded me the coins I'd struck. Being dutiful to my sworn fuedal lords, I paid a small tax to the Baron and Baroness. :-)

The most common period coining techniques involved a LOT of handwork, and the process of striking in particular is prone to human error. This is why a lot of period coins have their images off-center, and aren't perfectly round. This is not, as I've often thought, due to their being old and worn or damaged. Many of the coins I struck (especially early on) were only partially struck or had their images off center, just like the coins you'll see in museums. I even produced a double-strike or two. Without perfectly round coins with defined edges the temptation to shave coins for extra money becomes very high, which is why payments were often made by weight (and you don't want to know what they did to people caught shaving).

It was a great deal of fun, and I look forward to doing more moneying in the future past. :-)

From the Frontlines: Champions Part IV

Well, to make a long story short, as of Saturday I am the Bardic Champion of the Barony of Aquaterra. :-)

I have duties, regalia, and I also recieved a scroll and medallion.

I'm still on a bit of a high about it almost a week later. :-)

From the Frontlines: Champions Part III

Champions was fairly well attended this year, with over 100 people through gate and about 30 competitors total. Sadly only two of us were up for Bardic, however milord Kenneniah gave me quite a good run; after our performances I figured it was 50/50 between us. He performed two period songs, one on recorder and one vocal and mandolin.

For my pieces, I added a bit of theater. I had brought a period-ish box in which were three bags of Hershey's Nuggets - one in gold wrappers, one in silver, and one in red. I used these as 'visual aids', presenting one of each type to each judge, and passing them around for the audience. :-)

Sadly, due to my cold I hadn't been able to rehearse much at all, and I wasn't confident enough to go off book (I only needed to look down a few times, but it was just as well that I didn't try to go off book). Luckily Melody/Samira/Amethyst was able to loan me a cloth-covered binder to stick my notes in. The cold also limited my projection and volume, while the book denied me some of my gestures. Still, I was satisfied with my performance and I was able to do a good job with the judges Q&A.

From the Frontlines: Champions Part II

Here is the text of the song I wrote for Champions:

We are from An Tir!
Words and music by Roger Gridley

Draw your swords and raise your glasses
Draw your bows and give a cheer
Sing out loud ye lads and lasses
Let them know we’re from An Tir!
Let them know we’re from An Tir!

In the quiet misty morning
See the lion rampant rise
Tents are pitched and fires are kindled
Soon they'll know that we’ve arrived!
Soon they’ll know that we’ve arrived!

Tir Righ's banner sails above us
Avacal is near at hand
Summits marches to the drumbeat
We’ve come to defend our land!
We’ve come to defend our land!

Armies mass upon the Warfield
Heralds cry and heroes fall
Hear the screams of men and horses
An Tir’s arms will conquer all!
An Tir’s arms will conquer all!

Archers brace and bend their bowstaves
Armies charge across the glade
Archers loose a fearful whirlwind
Arrows let us fight in shade!
Arrows let us fight in shade!

Fencers dance within an eric
Steel blades play a deadly game
Fight with grace and fall with greatness
Death with honor is no shame!
Death with honor is no shame!

Bards engage with song and story
Dancers bransle* upon a stage
Every art and every science
Just another war we wage!
Just another war we wage!

Sheath your swords and drain your glasses
Case your bows and shed a tear
Go ye home ye lads and lasses
Homeward bound to fair An Tir!
Homeward bound to fair An Tir!

*Pronounced “brawl”; a type of medieval dance