"Armor $1500.. Entrance Fee $135.. Gas $80... the look on a guys face who thinks he should remember you... PRICELESS. American Express.. don't leave home without it."
giggle
SuGyong (Also happily married- two babies)
Actually it was almost $2K for the flight from Japan...but you are right, that bit and Pennsic in general was priceless.
THE FLAMING URSUS
By... well, Ursus
(just because I wanted the TRUTH about the incident known)
One fine evening in Concusare camp, I decided to light a fire. Now, as Tinker mentioned to me after this incident: 'Your fire foo is not strong'. Of course, she had the benefit of hindsight, but I digress. To make a long story short, the fire would not start. I used several matches, a lighter that finally got so hot that it almost burned my hand (I heard that snicker!), and lots of blowing on the puny coals that I did managed to coax to life.Finally, I was getting ready to just give up when Magnus walked by. I don't recall whether or not I asked him for help or merely advice (or whether he offered it freely), but he was the one who suggested I use white fuel. Then, of course, he walked away. Isn't trust a wonderful thing? Unfortunately, since that time nobody in three camps has left me alone with a fire (or white fuel) nor allowed me to try and start one.
I actually knelt down and peered into the pile of wood and flammable materials to see if I could detect even the slightest ember before using the white fuel (despite what you may think, I'm just lacking in common sense, not stupid). To this day, I would be willing to swear the fire was completely out. So I grabbed the white fuel and began to drench the fire. Well, needless to say, despite my caution, the fire wasn't really out.
There must have been something smoldering out of sight somewhere, because the next thing I knew, I was watching a column of flame traveling UP the stream of white fuel to the can in my hand. Now, this is not something one sees every day. I was more than a little surprised, so naturally I hesitated, with my brain still trying to absorb the frantic message my eyes were sending me and finding it a little hard to believe. In retrospect (as many nurses and volunteer chirurgeons gleefully pointed out to me when I was forced to re-tell this story over and over again, mostly because they didn't believe ANYBODY could be that dumb), I was very lucky the can did not explode in my hand when the flames reached it. Needless to say, you would not have had merely a flaming Ursus then, but a crispy-fried Ursus instead. But for some reason (thanks to whatever gods were watching over me at the time), it didn't, and thus you are forced to sit through the long version of this tale with all its pretentious comments and excuses.
Finally, when I started smelling the burnt flesh of my hand, my brain realized what was happening and that I probably should do something other than stare in fascinated horror as I slowly toasted myself. So I cleverly dropped the can, where of course it continued to spew out white fuel in a steadily expanding pool of roaring flames.... all around my feet. My cheap-o costume pants immediately became engulfed, and as the pain from my burned hand began to penetrate to my numbed brain, I also realized that my pants were on fire! It was only now, of course, that I began to realize this was quite serious. So I shouted 'Fire!' as I hastily tried to back out of the pool of flaming white fuel that surrounded me, while the same time leaning over and trying to beat out the flames on my pants. Yes, with my bare hands, of course, since nothing else was immediately available, which is how the legend of the 'flaming Ursus'dance came to be.
(And if I may pause for a moment, I'd just like to thank all of you....NOT!.... out there who took the opportunity for the rest of Pennsic to call out my name in public and then start dancing up and down, slapping one ankle with their hand in mimicry of this rather desperate measure.)
Up until that point, I was pretty much convinced I had the camp to myself since no one was in sight, but of course, that was the least of my concerns at the moment. Amazingly enough, mere seconds after I yelled 'Fire!', no less than four people suddenly materialized out of nowhere and rushed toward the flames. I was a little busy at the time, and the only one I remember for sure was Magnus, who saw that I was on fire and started shouting: 'Drop and roll, Ursus! Drop and roll!'
Although to this point I had shown an astonishing lack of good sense, I did retain just enough to realize that if I followed his advice, I would be lying in the flaming pool of white fuel. Since I was in pain from both hand and ankle by that point, I decided that probably wasn't such a good idea and continued backing up until I was completely free of the flames (and yes, beating my pants frantically the whole time to put them out). While I concentrated on making sure I lost no more limbs, the others present worked furiously to put out the fire, which was not easy. By the time they had finished, I was in serious pain. Of course that was the time that everyone in Anglesey camp just had to come over and see what was going on, and I'd like to thank you for all the sympathy shown by those individuals. (Wait a minute! This is Anglesey! Sympathy? You MUST be joking!)
Gaius/Kyrax drove me to the hospital, where I had to explain to a very nice nurse how I hurt myself. She was kind enough not to laugh out loud (although she did smile an awful lot), and was probably the last person who could make that claim when I told and re-told this story a hundred times for the next week. And not because I wanted to, I might add. Probably the worst part of the whole incident (besides being in constant pain from the second-degree burns which resulted) was the fact that I had to go to Chirurgeon's point every day to get my bandages changed, since living in a campsite generates an awful lot of dirt. Naturally, every time I went I got a new SCA volunteer who just had to hear how I managed such odd burns (one wrist and one ankle). This resulted in me being the laughingstock of their large tent on virtually every occasion. If I had a dime for every time I heard: 'Boy, that was really dumb!' at Pennsic, I probably could've retired by now.
It didn't die there, of course. Baron Gordo (I don't remember his name), the Fire Marshal, decided that this one incident meant not only the Concusare, but Anglesey as well, constituted a group fire hazard. Despite our protests and explanations, he insisted on checking up on us frequently for the rest of Pennsic and giving us tons of unwanted and condescending advice. Which of course was not calculated to make me feel any better. Well, there you have it. The straight unvarnished truth, told by the fool.... er, man responsible for this tragic affair. I was the only one hurt, thank God, or else I'm sure I would NEVER hear the end of it. Come to think of it, I still haven't heard the end of it anyway, and knowing how loyal and understanding my friends are, I probably never will. I can laugh about it now, especially since that was the second time a campfire had leaped out to bite me (but that's another story....). Ever since this little affair, however, every time I try to volunteer anything having to do with fire, I get a rush of people grabbing things out of my hand and/or pushing me out of the way. From now on, I stick to water and leave the fires to others.
Torum, Graedwyn reads the boards, so hopefully he will see this himself. If not, next I see him, which hopefully will be soon, if I get my gauntlets in time for this weekend, will let him know also.
And i wonder how many guys, their first time to Pennsic, get suckered into wearing a blue feather.
Finn O'Shannon KSCA
AEthelmearc
"In each of us are Two Wolves. One Good, One Evil. Which one do you feed most?"
Let me see if I can interject since I am the Sir Nigel MacFarlane in question;
[Thaddeus wrote]Well it was three years ago and so time has dulled the memory somewhat, but as I recall he said exactly that. I had him at the disadvantage and said will you yield sir? He said what ransom would you have of me? and I replied No less than your worth as a knight. To which he said he could not pay and we must continue on. So we did and I bested him.]
I have a foggy recollection of this... I tend to stand my ground when shield walls charge, yes, even when I only have my spear (did I mention that I carry a dagger as any noble of cote armour would), and from time to time I lose my footing and find myself recovering said footing in the backfield of the opposing ranks. If memory serves me correctly, this was one of those occassions.
I remember standing up and someone bearing a sword and shield asking me to yeild. I won't pretend to remember the exact wording used but I do remember the reference worth as a Kinght being mentioned. At the time I felt that he was asking for something that was worthy of the value of my Knighthood. I hold my rank and station beyond price and the only answer for me, at the time, was that I could not pay since no price can be put upon such a thing.
Yes, I do think like this on the field.
I more than likely did say that I would rather fight for my honour, I might have even said that I would rather die than agree to such terms, I don't recall.
Thaddeus, I do not recall if you are a member of the Order of Chivalry, for if you were, or were a King or Prince, I likely would have taken an offer to pay a suitable ransom. One does not lightly do such things but I know that safe conduct can be reasonably assured from some people of high stations. I do not doubt that you would have granted me safe conduct but it was not a risk I was willing to take, in my medieval mindset of course.
[Thaddeus] [Later I thought I should have had him bear a poem in praise of the day and the deed to my lady.]
To me this would have been quite acceptable. Besides, I can only imagine the wonder that would have crossed peoples minds if they had witnessed such an exchange.
[Thaddeus] [It still stands as a great transporting moment in my mind, the meeting with a gentleman of cote on the field and the doing of a fine deed of arms amongst the chaos of a field battle. I was well pleased.]
Thaddeus,
Know that I hold no ill will for your choice of words that day. I hope you take my words here as they are intended. I too enjoyed that encounter and acted as I felt befitted my station and the situation. Like you, I am still trying to comes to grips with modern thoughts that try to get in my way of a pursuit of medieval thinking.
If you are at Estrella War, Gulf Wars, War of the Lillies or Pennsic War this year, please try and find me and we will have a small deed of arms, even if it is right before the commencement of a battle. THAT would transport me to another time as this encounter transported you.
May God keep you in your travels,
Sir Nigel MacFarlane
aut omnia periclitaris aut nihil lucaris
ps... I apologize for any rambling as I have had to work two 8 hour shifts at work as well as a snow-plowing shift of 8 hours in the last 30+ hours all on 2 1/2 hours sleep. The "Great White" has returned to the Northland of Ontario
It was my first Pennsic, The most fun I had was in the allied champions res battle, I fought spear and made 4 kills with my dagger the last guy after the 4th or 5th time I stabbed him I said it's a dagger it's a dagger he looked me in the eye and called GOOD!!! he said i thought you were just punching me in the chest I laughed all the way home about that one.
Very courteous people, I enjoyed it very much.
P. S. Sir nigel is the fastest man I know in encased greaves. And who was Prince of the Middle, He has the sweetest onion top I have seen.
Duke Thorstenn the WrongHand
Trimaris.
"A fully equipped duke costs as much to keep up as two Dreadnoughts, and dukes are just as great a terror -- and they last longer."
David Lloyd George
Torum-
The Tuchux tourney was a blast. Thank you for your kind words.
I do remember talking to you between fights (about your helmet, I
believe). We had a great time.
Come back to Pennsic this year. We will thump each other and roll
around in the grass again(in a manly way, of course).
-Graedwyn
twenty years in this damn dirty armor- twenty years, while you were a'wantoning at court!
Baron Alejandro wrote:*note - never get drunk around Louis.
After that story, I think I'll restrict my interactions to e-mail. People don't have to be drunk to act foolish or fall for a trick.
I didn't mean to scare people off.
The guy from my story was ok with it. He was some new guy that showed up in my camp with a girl on each arm "looking for an adventure". So we gave him one. It wasn't done haphazardly. We hung out with the guy for a few hours before deciding his personality and the prank would be a good match. You would have had to met the guy to understand. He *wanted* something outrageous to happen to him. Said so, repeatedly. And - I was also the only person who suggested this might not be a good idea - but was essentially vetoed.
And fortunately, we judged correctly. We saw him later that night and he was howling laughing at that picnic table. And met up with him a few days later - he thought it was hilarious. He said he figured it out on his own that we were pulling his leg, but decided to wear the hat anyways to see what would happen.
I almost never pull pranks on people. And this prank wasn't my idea, although I could have put the kibosh on it. My only sin is that I didn't spill the beans. And anyways I don't hang out with that crew anymore anyhow.
I'm safe company. Honest.
Marco-borromei wrote:Stay away from Akron, unless you're cruelly interested in experimenting on your children. Will they survive the schools? The drugs? The boredom? Will desperation motivate them to leave or to go native?
Westies, who probably know someone who was involved. When I heard this, post-Pennsic, I almost ruptured myself laughing. You tell me there's more??!!
Maeryk!! Tell!! Tell!!
Okay.. this was the year that the Vampires were _REALLY_ out of hand.. to the point that the booklet for either that year or the one after.. (not sure which) had a "This is NOT A LARP! this is NOT A RAINBOW GATHERING" article inside the front cover.
Anyway.. We were camped over on the spit of land between Clovenshield's access road and Tuchux Hill (the "old" Tuchux hill so this was before they moved). I had previously been active in Confed, and had many friends there. (INcluding, but not limited to, Vermin). Anyway.. my Goth gear and my SCA gear were typically interchangeable at that point (not so much that I was doign high victorian SCA, as much as I tended to do generic-swashbuckler goth). So I happened to have my fangs with me at Pennsic, as they all lived in the same trunk.
Vlad's was getting REALLY outta hand with the whole Vampire thing, so Vermin, Thorvald, I think Talun, and a couple of other people cooked up a plan. A CUNNING plan. A DEVIOUS plan. Frankly.. a drunken plan.
I put on my best dark outfit.. black pants, black bag shirt, black boots, and my fangs.. a girl I knew did the same.. (she had her fangs there too.. or had had them made there, when Strangeblade was still allowed to sell).
So.. the plan was hatched. Thorvald made up a leather baldric full of stakes, and became an alter persona, of Vampire Slayer. Vermin carved stakes. (Mine, which I still have, has a cross on one side, and a star of david on the other.. "just in case").
We waited till the biggest party Vlad was having, and "mingled" in the crowd outside the gates, assuming our positions.
Vermin waited for a quiet moment, gave the high sign, and began screaming VAMPIRE! (or, more accurately, Wamphyre!") in his most screechy and shrill voice (which is pretty freakin screechy and shrill when he wants it to be). The lady and I looked both ways and did a bugout RUN away from the shrieking person, only to have large stalwart Germans with stakes and hammers materializing out of the crowd. We were "thrown" to the ground, and staked on the spot.. with much screaming and writhing, and then picked up and physically spirited off by the attackers, and hustled up to Confed camp.
That night, there materialized, outside the camp, the outlines of two burned "staked out" humans which became quite visible after sunup.
Kindred showed up, with a procession and a casket, did some solemn crap, shoveled the ashes into the casket, had a virgin or two bleed into it, closed the lid, chanted, and VOILA! Two (one male one female, but not us.. we couldn't work out the timing) vampires sprang from the coffin and giggled off into the night, and Kindred processed back to their camp.
It was a hoot, a lot of fun, no one got particularly offended that I know of.. but the stories afterwards (second hand) were the best.. "Did you know two of the vampire people were ACTUALLY MURDERED at Pennsic? Thats why there are so few vampires here now!" (wide eyed crazed belief). Really?
Now.. I'm not saying that is the same incident.. and Vermin can probably fill in any details I might have missed.. but it sounds pretty close..
That is better than the story I was told.
I am greatly obliged to you for telling it.
I shall feel even greater gratitude to you, after I finish cleaning up the root beer I snarfed up on my keyboard....
Much as I like to look at pictures of myself, that is a shot
of me about to get thrown and mashed into the ground.
It was still fun though.
Come back when you can Torum. Have a beer at the "Old
Baron's Rest Home". We camp on the Serengetti.
-Graedwyn
twenty years in this damn dirty armor- twenty years, while you were a'wantoning at court!
Certain details will be withheld to protect those involved...
Some years ago my Household camped on the Serenghetti. Back then we were a rioteous band of Stick Jocks, looking for booze, women, and a good fight, not necessarily in that order. We were Atlantia's original Thug Household.
One of our members, whom I will only call Vego (some times called "The Destructor") comes sneaking in to camp late one afternoon. The furtive look on his face spoke volumes. Seeing me sitting, feet up, mug of Honey Brown in hand, he gets an evil grin on his face and calls to me, "Frederich! Come here!"
While he hides in the entrance of a pavilion, guiltily glancing left and right, I carefully saunter over. From the way he's acting, I'm expecting a FBI team to decend upon him at any moment.
Seemingly feeling safe, he says, "Look what I...um...found!" He opens his cloak, showing a flash of red.
"Vego, what did you do?"
He grins maniacally. "I've got the Midrealm War Banner!"
Now, being as we are an Atlantian Household and we weren't fighting for the Midrealm that year, this is a dangerous statement. I believe the next words to come out of my mouth were "Oh Shit", capitalized and every thing.
"Oh Vego...this is bad. Real bad! What were you thinking?"
"Well, I was just standing there, and the banner was just sitting there alone! I couldn't help myself."
Taking a deep breath, I starting doing damage control. Realizing that it would take too long to dispose of the body, I say "Okay, come with me." I lead him to our House Captain; he looks at us with cautious curiousity.
"Vego. Show him." Vego shows that Banner. "Oh Fucking Shit," says our Captain. "Vego! What were you thinking?" Vego looks shamefaced...well, sort of proudly shamefaced anyway.
Our Captain chews his lip for awhile. "I know a Midrealm Duke. You two stay here. And don't show that Banner to anyone else!"
As the rest of the House shows up Vego must, of course, show them the Banner and explain what he was thinking. Eventually, our Captain returns to find the whole house looking expectant. He rolls his eyes and forges forward.
"Alright, I think I've worked out a deal. We give them the Banner back, and they call off the search."
"The Mid was searching for the Banner?" we asked.
"The Mid was searching for a rope and 4 horses."
Vego looked confused, "Four horses? Why would they...oh."
The next day, early in the evening, Vego comes sneaking in to the camp, cloak clutched tightly about him, looking immensely pleased with himself.
Pennsic sounds like too much fun. Shame I won't be able to enterprise on my closer proximity being located on the East Coast and actually go to one. Seems like every time I think I can bring my toys out and play again life intervenes.
Someday... <sigh>
Gereke Heidenrich
Long lost Cynaguan
Loyal always to the West
(Despite me being somewhere else...)
GerekeH wrote:Pennsic sounds like too much fun. Shame I won't be able to enterprise on my closer proximity being located on the East Coast and actually go to one. Seems like every time I think I can bring my toys out and play again life intervenes.
Someday... <sigh>
I think that you should go. I go every year from Germany, which isn't on either coast.
When I lived in the 'States, I used to drive in from Mississippi, which isn't close either. It was worth it every time.
Life does get in the way, however. It would be a shame to miss it. Deeds of Glory will be done there, and if you aren't there, other folks will make them.
...And since this is a thread about Pennsic stories,
Freiman! Oh gods! Everyones was looking at me like I was having a seisure or something! I just fell out of my chair and laughed for five minutes! That's the best story ever!
Give us beer and we'll sing. Give us more beer and we'll stop.
olaf haraldson wrote:Friedrich, was that like Pennsic 29 or 30? I think you were camped next door to me... I seem to vaguely remember that...
Olaf, speaking purely hypothetically, it might have occured at about that time, possibly as early as Pennsic 27 or 28. However, again purely hypothetically, I'm fairly certain that we destroyed all the evidence.
If not, next I see him, which hopefully will be soon, if I get my gauntlets in time for this weekend, will let him know also.
I laughed all the way home about that one.
but i will be back .. ohh yes i will be back 
