Moving right along.
What better way to ring ZARM back in than with a post about my very favorite war, Great Western War! Every year I have an absolute blast at Great Western (thanks in large part to the great site, camping with the boyfriend's household, and the fact that it always falls on or around my birthday weekend), and this year was no exception.
I have to say, I was looking forward to this particular war with some trepidation--it was our first time leaving our cat alone overnight since the Great Vet Trips of 2010, I'd had a couple of bad days due to some difficult work news, we could only manage to head up to the war on Saturday and Sunday because of work and a total absence of PTO in my full-time job (Ever. Any. At all.), and we had enough to do before we left that we wouldn't be able to leave for the site until after dark. I was not looking forward to the war by 4 PM on Friday afternoon.
And yet.
War. Oh war. Something about war just perks me right up. Maybe it's because of the people. Or the turning off of cell phones and disconnecting from the internet for a couple of days. Maybe it's because I love blood and violence. Who can say?
War kicked ass pretty much continuously from Friday night to Sunday night, and a big part of that was the fencing. So let's get to it:
Saturday
Saturday was the White Scarf tourney in the morning and melees in the castle in the afternoon. In the White Scarf tourney, which was held last year as well, a White Scarf sponsors two unscarved fighters and they tag team in and out between rounds throughout the tournament--sort of like Pokemon, but more fun to watch.
Warmups were a little something different--Laertes shoved me over to Don Alex Baird and rather than a static drill warmup, he just had us throw blows back and forth without stopping at about 75% speed, very gentle and easygoing. For a minute or two I felt like my brain was lagging behind my body, but I got one good touch in on his arm and suddenly everything clicked into place. It got me into the fencing headspace really quickly, and whether that's a testament to the warmup or my own increased ability decreasing my mental lag, I can't say. Whichever the case (or if both is the case), it worked great.
The WS tourney was lots of fun. I lost both my fights, but I had some really nice and fun opponents. I can't recall the second one right now (beyond getting one-shotted just as I started thinking--well done, sir!), but the first fight was with a very nice gentleman who seemed pretty evenly matched with me. We had a couple of nice passes and he ended up taking me out, but I felt really good about the fight--very grounded and confident, like I, as the good book says, owned my space on the pavement.
I also got to hang out with some peeps I sort-of know and would like to know better, Shannon (whose SCA name is something like a very feminine sounding Christian... probably has an E on the end or some damn thing) and her husband Thomas, and Gerrick's (more spelling issues) ladyfriend Maureen, who's just a huge sweetheart and lots of fun. I also got to schmooze a bit with some of the Westies I see annually at GWW or know through Facebook, which was great. Staffan and I stole back to his pavilion (scandal!) to discuss some manuals we'd talked about online and I've now ordered a copy of an out-of-print book on basic foil and epee fencing that apparently has a lot of period-oid crossover. When life calms down a bit more, I'm excited to get into it.
In the afternoon, there were melees in the heavies' haybale castle, which were just a total blast. We busted the spears out and for the first time I really thought they affected play on the field--previously I'd only been in line-battle type melees where the spears were used, and, while I thought they were fun, the only effect they had on me were that I had to watch three people down on my left and right on the lines, rather than one or two. Being able to shoot over the haybale walls with the spears and get up on the second tier of bales to parry them really added a layer of intensity and thought to the melees which can often get lost in doorway battles. There was no standing in the third or fourth rank, waiting for enough people in front of you to die for you to get your turn--you had to actively check the air over your head (well, I did anyway) and around the edges of the door for a spear. Lots of fun, especially when I perched up on a haybale on the edge of a door and sniped across the line for incoming hands.
Another really nice touch about Saturday was that the White Scarf Tourney last year was really one of the first tournies at which Laertes' and I had worked together, so we had lots of check ins during the day comparing how I'm fighting this year (okay!) to how I fought last year (friggin' awful). He and Gerrick (whose name I should know how to spell by now, but I don't) were both very positive and reassuring and specific about where and how I'd improved, and kept reminding me to take note of myself now versus last year. I really appreciate the encouragement and support they've both provided, and genuinely consider the good environment to be a huge part of why I've improved as much as I have over this past year. The learning environment really is ideal for me (lots of talking, lots of snark, lots of support, and high expectations with no pressure to win or be the best! or make the other kids cry! or any of that Cobra Kai bullshit), and has done a lot to boost my confidence. Thanks, guys!
Sunday
First thing on Sunday morning was the Valkyrie Rose Tourney, hosted by the Ladies of the Rose in honor of the late Duchess Sir Kolfinna. There's been a Rose tourney the last couple of years at war (methinks), but the last two have been a bit fraught with emotion for everyone--the one last year took place around the same time as the memorial service, which was hard for a lot of people, and the one this year was in her honor.
In my first fight, I drew Don Eogan (more on tourney format below), who caught my rhythm and one-shotted me very quickly. A bit frustrated, I retreated to the loser's pool and was perked up by a couple of good passes with a Western White Scarf whose name I failed to catch. He tried to take a blow I landed on the side of his neck, basically parking my edge on the bottom of his gorget with no pressure or pull whatsoever, but I said it wasn't any good and we should redo it. He was an utter gentleman and tried really hard to take the shot, but finally said it was up to me to determine whether it was good or not and I insisted we refight it. We had a couple exchanges at full speed (for me, probably rather slow for him!) and I ended up taking him out with a lucky shot on the mask. I was really pleased with that, and glad I'd gotten such a chivalrous and fun opponent. My next fight was with a young lady from the West who was equally polite and cheerful, and who took me out in fairly short order... she made it to quarterfinals, though, so I didn't feel too bad about it. :)
The fighting was great, but the tourney itself was a bit of an ordeal--not for any emotional reasons on my part, but because it was a speed tourney (two groups of fighters pair off and fight, then sort into two lists, the winners and losers lists, which continue to fight until there's a winner of each, pretty much non-stop) and it was out in the gorram sun near a small haybale room. It had been getting warmer all war, and I imagine the high on Sunday was somewhere in the 90s. There were a lot of fighters and a speed tourney was absolutely the best way to get through the list in less than an hour, but we were sweltering out there and the waterbearing table was totally understaffed, so there was no water within five hundred feet of the tourney field.
(Actually, I think the one water table in sight was intended for the heavies who were doing scenarios in the castle... right next door to the rapier field... with their crossbows a-firing, and may I just say, LEARN TO AIM, KIDS, because dodging crossbow bolts while trying to fight or marshal in the heat after a few rounds of speed tourney? Not a lot of fun. Suggestions to the marshals that scenarios involving projectiles be rescheduled for a few minutes or fought without archery didn't seem to be accepted, which hopefully had a good reason, because from where I was standing it was a bit annoying. Moving right along.)
I ended up going over to the heavies' water table and asking to steal six or eight bottles from them for the tourney. They were really nice and said it was no problem as long as they got all the bottles back, so I took a double armful and parked them all on one haybale. People were really good about returning them, and half an hour later I had all the empties to return to the waterbearers. Hopefully that helped everyone--I could tell the water crew felt bad about not being able to provide for everyone, but I think they were technically promised to the heavies field and there were only two of them. They appreciated us returning the bottles, and the fighters appreciated the extra hydration, so I think it worked out well for everyone.
Anyway, not much else to say about fencing at GWW. I didn't do Blood of Heroes or melees that afternoon (and a good thing, because we had to break down later that night and I ended up throwing my back out, so it would have been a pain to have to deal with that on top of being all exhaustified), but I heard everyone had lots of fun. I sure did. :)
