My excitement was hard to contain.
I entered the Convention Center in Lexington in trepidation, dressed in jeans and a fleece pullover, a full backpack of borrowed garb over my shoulder. I was unsure if I was in the right location. Then I saw the first bumper sticker. Then another and another. One green minivan even had the license plate that read SCAVAN. I was nearing to my goal.
My first event.
As I approached the entrance to Hall, a woman exited the building dressed in bodice and gown, a hooded green cloak protecting her from the chill rain that fell lightly from the overcast sky. Another sign. Inside the door, a golf and fishing expo was underway and men of all ages and gut-sizes milled about as I headed down the long hallway. A young boy laughed and pointed ahead, asking his father what the funny man was doing in armor. I looked ahead and saw a knight on his way to the privee. Already I sympathized with the armored man. I was already feeling kinship with the Society. I had made it.
A quick peak in the door and I dashed into the latrine to change out of my mundane clothes. I had borrowed a tunic and belt from AEric, Tinker’s husband. Him being slightly lager than myself, outweighing me by at least a hundred pounds, I had stitched up the neck. Otherwise I would have looked like “A Midsummer Night’s Flashdance.” The effect wasn’t attractive, but it was adequate.
I proudly showed my white membership card to Troll at the gate, announcing that this, Candlemas in the Shire of Dragonsmark, would be my first event ever. I was granted free access to the festivities therein.
A small square hall, plain and unadorned, had become a medieval courtyard. Four squares were roped off in the center for lists and the clang and bang of rattan on armor already echoed off the concrete walls. Three or four vendors had set up shop along the nearest wall, a Rattan salesman selling huge poles in the corner. Centered upon the lists was the Queen’s throne, flanked by Prince Dag’s and Princess AnneMarie’s to her right and Prince Val and his consort of Atlantia to her left. Along the other walls, other Lords and Ladies of the Society had encamped around the lists, in manners and fashions that suited them. Some sprawled on blankets, others in modern camp chairs. Some had knockdown chairs common within the SCA and some had set up mini-indoor camps, complete with rugs, tables, and pens for children.
The day was incredible. The atmosphere was festive. And most of all, the people were humbling. Everyone was kind and courteous, eager to speak with me and help me understand what was going on. Sarah of the Cleftlands spoke to me at length. And the very nice Lady whose name I cannot recall, a retired Army SFC, with her “Scandahoovian” dress introduced me to Prince Valharic, of whom I had read of in Tinker’s copy of “The Knights Next Door.” Prince Val offered his assistance, should I need anything, since both he and the Lady had the US Army in common with me.
But the aspect of the whole day that struck me the most was the emotion. During the court, several people were called up to crown to receive awards. But one woman, Baroness Alex, who stood small behind the Queen’s throne, was surprised when she was summoned to kneel. She was to be raised to Peerage, a revelation that caused her to cry and shake with emotion. Then it truly hit me.
This wasn’t just a group of men and women playing dress-up. There was true, deep emotion here. This was truly important.
And I was eager to be part of it.
I entered the Convention Center in Lexington in trepidation, dressed in jeans and a fleece pullover, a full backpack of borrowed garb over my shoulder. I was unsure if I was in the right location. Then I saw the first bumper sticker. Then another and another. One green minivan even had the license plate that read SCAVAN. I was nearing to my goal.
My first event.
As I approached the entrance to Hall, a woman exited the building dressed in bodice and gown, a hooded green cloak protecting her from the chill rain that fell lightly from the overcast sky. Another sign. Inside the door, a golf and fishing expo was underway and men of all ages and gut-sizes milled about as I headed down the long hallway. A young boy laughed and pointed ahead, asking his father what the funny man was doing in armor. I looked ahead and saw a knight on his way to the privee. Already I sympathized with the armored man. I was already feeling kinship with the Society. I had made it.
A quick peak in the door and I dashed into the latrine to change out of my mundane clothes. I had borrowed a tunic and belt from AEric, Tinker’s husband. Him being slightly lager than myself, outweighing me by at least a hundred pounds, I had stitched up the neck. Otherwise I would have looked like “A Midsummer Night’s Flashdance.” The effect wasn’t attractive, but it was adequate.
I proudly showed my white membership card to Troll at the gate, announcing that this, Candlemas in the Shire of Dragonsmark, would be my first event ever. I was granted free access to the festivities therein.
A small square hall, plain and unadorned, had become a medieval courtyard. Four squares were roped off in the center for lists and the clang and bang of rattan on armor already echoed off the concrete walls. Three or four vendors had set up shop along the nearest wall, a Rattan salesman selling huge poles in the corner. Centered upon the lists was the Queen’s throne, flanked by Prince Dag’s and Princess AnneMarie’s to her right and Prince Val and his consort of Atlantia to her left. Along the other walls, other Lords and Ladies of the Society had encamped around the lists, in manners and fashions that suited them. Some sprawled on blankets, others in modern camp chairs. Some had knockdown chairs common within the SCA and some had set up mini-indoor camps, complete with rugs, tables, and pens for children.
The day was incredible. The atmosphere was festive. And most of all, the people were humbling. Everyone was kind and courteous, eager to speak with me and help me understand what was going on. Sarah of the Cleftlands spoke to me at length. And the very nice Lady whose name I cannot recall, a retired Army SFC, with her “Scandahoovian” dress introduced me to Prince Valharic, of whom I had read of in Tinker’s copy of “The Knights Next Door.” Prince Val offered his assistance, should I need anything, since both he and the Lady had the US Army in common with me.
But the aspect of the whole day that struck me the most was the emotion. During the court, several people were called up to crown to receive awards. But one woman, Baroness Alex, who stood small behind the Queen’s throne, was surprised when she was summoned to kneel. She was to be raised to Peerage, a revelation that caused her to cry and shake with emotion. Then it truly hit me.
This wasn’t just a group of men and women playing dress-up. There was true, deep emotion here. This was truly important.
And I was eager to be part of it.
Oh, and I got to be present when Valharic announced Atlantia’s union with the Midrealm for Pennsic XXXVI. Chaaaa!
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