1066: Redux
Sep. 13th, 2005 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lenora_roseSo, Sunday morning: I decided to follow the theme of the event and actually dress as Dark Ages; Branwen decided to go even further out than Tudor, if not int ime than in Geography, and wore her quite handsome Kameez and skirt. Immediately after breakfast and some conversation with some out of town friends, I ended up on the archery range yet again, hauling all the targets into a wholly new configuration, for the now-famous Water Duel, AKA the Milk-Carton Shoot. The prior day's archery had been kinda lackadaisical specifically because we'd decided to do this one Sunday.
The Water Duel, as developed by Baron Wulfgang, goes as follows: Two 2L paper milk cartons are filled with water, and hung from a pulley system, so that, as one empties, the other one drops to the ground. (Presumably it could be anything simultaneously watertight, easily puncturable by a well-aimed arrow, and not likely to damage said arrow in the doing. So far milk cartons have worked the best) Two archers line up and shoot at the milk cartons. The carton that hits ground first loses.
This includes what happens when you shoot your own carton off the cord holding it. Moreso as the line tends to spin around the support beam and keep your opponent's from hitting ground with you.
It's popular because, unlike many archery shoots, it's exciting to watch, too. Unless the very bottom is shot out, the cartons don't drop right away, so victory is rarely decided in a single shot.
In fact, most of the heavy fighters were on the archery field, either shooting or watching. HE Hrodir borrowed my second bow; someone else borrowed Baron Robin's six-foot longbow.
Well, it's exciting to watch unless two people go for multiple rounds in a row without emptying the cartons. Which happened with the first line-up, Lucius against his Majesty's younger son.
Normally, that means two bad archers are up; this wasn't the case. Lucius is pretty good, and kept hitting; the top of the carton, too high to leak enough water to drop. Gregor hit, or skimmed, a couple of times. But neither of them shot quite low enough - and in the end, Lucius did himself in by hitting the cord.
After that, it went much as it should; at least one splendid last-second reversal, as Baron Robin shot the bottom out of a carton as it was dropping, and not only stopped the drop, but caused Baron Wulfgang's carton to touch down. Dirk (my Colin) came very close to doing the same thing to His Majesty, but a little too late; his carton slowed down, but did touch down before the weight levelled out. I kept going, shooting okay, hitting my cartons but only after far too many shots, listening to Gregor cheer as loudly as he could for everybody he wanted to win, doing my own cheering for some folk.
I was damn near floored when they announced that there were three finalists, not two, so they'd have to do a round-robin to determine the winner.
Baron Hreodbeorht, HE Hrodir (Who'd kept declaring that he really liked my second bow), and me.
Huh?
(Just as a point: Baron Robin, Baron Wulfgang, and Baron Hreodbeorht regularly trade off on who would win in the local competitions. Siegound and Dirk have both been finalists. And that's the folk from in town; ocne you add in people like HE Hrodir and His Majesty...)
So I line up against Hreodbeorht. No worries, right?
No, as it happens. First round, we both punch holes, but too high to make a difference. Gregor is loudly cheering for Hreodbeorht, but I hear my name from someone who sounds like it might be Baroness Ainsleah, and definitely from Branwen.
Second round, Hredobeorht holes his carton middle-low. Mine starts to drop, and...
... I shoot the bottom.
But my arrow sticks in. The carton stops, hanging about a foot about the ground; it's leaking, and leaking a lot, but the arrow's slowed the flow enough that it won't reverse.
So we fire until we're out of arrows, go and retrieve, then walk all the way back to the line. it's still leaking. It's very clearly only a matter of time. (Ceddwyn told me later I should've just dawdled about pulling my arrows.)
We get all the way back to the line for the next round. And, dammit, Hreodbeorht shoots the bottom of his. And his arrow doesn't stick. So, with the faster leak, and the weight of my arrow adding those crucial few ounces, my carton starts to creep, and finally rests itself ever so lightly on the ground.
HE Hrodir then beats Hreodbeorht it a more normal fashion, then beats me - though I did put up a fair fight again, enough not to be too down.
Hell, too down? I've never made it as far as finalist before. I was delighted.
Congratulations, Hrodir!
So at last the heavy fighters go off and do the thing the SCA is most famous for: people dressing up in leather and metal armour, and hitting each other with large rattan sticks. (They don't quite move like metal swords or axes, but the weight isn't too far off, they flex better and more accurately than wood, and they don't shatter into splinters against someone's head if they start to break; they just go pulpy.) Several other archers decide a day and a bit isn't enough, and keep going.
And I go for a swim. Branwen follows me to the shore, hiking up her skirt to wade, but she forgot her bathing suit, and is plainly not altogether happy about it.
The Water Duel, as developed by Baron Wulfgang, goes as follows: Two 2L paper milk cartons are filled with water, and hung from a pulley system, so that, as one empties, the other one drops to the ground. (Presumably it could be anything simultaneously watertight, easily puncturable by a well-aimed arrow, and not likely to damage said arrow in the doing. So far milk cartons have worked the best) Two archers line up and shoot at the milk cartons. The carton that hits ground first loses.
This includes what happens when you shoot your own carton off the cord holding it. Moreso as the line tends to spin around the support beam and keep your opponent's from hitting ground with you.
It's popular because, unlike many archery shoots, it's exciting to watch, too. Unless the very bottom is shot out, the cartons don't drop right away, so victory is rarely decided in a single shot.
In fact, most of the heavy fighters were on the archery field, either shooting or watching. HE Hrodir borrowed my second bow; someone else borrowed Baron Robin's six-foot longbow.
Well, it's exciting to watch unless two people go for multiple rounds in a row without emptying the cartons. Which happened with the first line-up, Lucius against his Majesty's younger son.
Normally, that means two bad archers are up; this wasn't the case. Lucius is pretty good, and kept hitting; the top of the carton, too high to leak enough water to drop. Gregor hit, or skimmed, a couple of times. But neither of them shot quite low enough - and in the end, Lucius did himself in by hitting the cord.
After that, it went much as it should; at least one splendid last-second reversal, as Baron Robin shot the bottom out of a carton as it was dropping, and not only stopped the drop, but caused Baron Wulfgang's carton to touch down. Dirk (my Colin) came very close to doing the same thing to His Majesty, but a little too late; his carton slowed down, but did touch down before the weight levelled out. I kept going, shooting okay, hitting my cartons but only after far too many shots, listening to Gregor cheer as loudly as he could for everybody he wanted to win, doing my own cheering for some folk.
I was damn near floored when they announced that there were three finalists, not two, so they'd have to do a round-robin to determine the winner.
Baron Hreodbeorht, HE Hrodir (Who'd kept declaring that he really liked my second bow), and me.
Huh?
(Just as a point: Baron Robin, Baron Wulfgang, and Baron Hreodbeorht regularly trade off on who would win in the local competitions. Siegound and Dirk have both been finalists. And that's the folk from in town; ocne you add in people like HE Hrodir and His Majesty...)
So I line up against Hreodbeorht. No worries, right?
No, as it happens. First round, we both punch holes, but too high to make a difference. Gregor is loudly cheering for Hreodbeorht, but I hear my name from someone who sounds like it might be Baroness Ainsleah, and definitely from Branwen.
Second round, Hredobeorht holes his carton middle-low. Mine starts to drop, and...
... I shoot the bottom.
But my arrow sticks in. The carton stops, hanging about a foot about the ground; it's leaking, and leaking a lot, but the arrow's slowed the flow enough that it won't reverse.
So we fire until we're out of arrows, go and retrieve, then walk all the way back to the line. it's still leaking. It's very clearly only a matter of time. (Ceddwyn told me later I should've just dawdled about pulling my arrows.)
We get all the way back to the line for the next round. And, dammit, Hreodbeorht shoots the bottom of his. And his arrow doesn't stick. So, with the faster leak, and the weight of my arrow adding those crucial few ounces, my carton starts to creep, and finally rests itself ever so lightly on the ground.
HE Hrodir then beats Hreodbeorht it a more normal fashion, then beats me - though I did put up a fair fight again, enough not to be too down.
Hell, too down? I've never made it as far as finalist before. I was delighted.
Congratulations, Hrodir!
So at last the heavy fighters go off and do the thing the SCA is most famous for: people dressing up in leather and metal armour, and hitting each other with large rattan sticks. (They don't quite move like metal swords or axes, but the weight isn't too far off, they flex better and more accurately than wood, and they don't shatter into splinters against someone's head if they start to break; they just go pulpy.) Several other archers decide a day and a bit isn't enough, and keep going.
And I go for a swim. Branwen follows me to the shore, hiking up her skirt to wade, but she forgot her bathing suit, and is plainly not altogether happy about it.
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no subject
Date: 2005-09-14 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 01:22 am (UTC)I must have loaned it to you rather a long while ago. I had no idea it wasn't in my own possession.
You probably don't need to return it anyhow. Since my cloak is rather a later style, I haven't really been happy about using that pin with it on the rare occasion I remember to bring it at all.