Writing: Letter to my Dead son

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Hello Son. It’s been a long time since I have written you.

Actually, it’s been a long time since I have written anything. I’m not entirely sure why that is….

No. That’s a lie. I know exactly why that is. It all has to do with Vulnerability. I’m not good at it.. and I believe that, past a grasp of language, Vulnerability is a prerequisite for good writing. Perhaps I will try to change that with this letter.  Perhaps I will share it with others instead of deleting it like I normally do.

I thought I was decent at that;  vulnerability. I guess on some level I was. But along the line I got gutted; by people who were my friends, by my Job, by life.

You know… Life… The thing you never got to taste.

Father’s Day is hard for me, my son. I never got to be a Father. You were taken from me, and that door closed with such finality that even a foolish person like me understood what had just happened.

Don’t get me wrong. My life has been utterly amazing. I have had profound love. I have traveled the world tilting at windmills. I have had Brothers and Lovers, and Teachers, and Arch Enemies. I am told by  others that I have led a good life, and there is no denying it has been full of adventure; full of great storylines.

But I never got to see my son grow.

My relationship with your Grandfather is wonderful. He is a better man than I will ever be. He expresses his love and his pride in me freely and without hesitation. He is stronger then I am, facing challenges physically that would have had me take the easy way out long ago.

There are things about him that I don’t have. His level of compassion for people is, for lack of a better word, Saintly. Pain pills have slowed his mind, but even so I know that he is smarter then I.

But I wish he could have met you. A part of me feels guilt in that. I see how he delights in other men’s sons, and, in a completely irrational way, I feel that I failed to give him that experience; having a grandson of his own.

I have a number of wells of irrational guilt when it comes to your grandfather. I suppose that is the nature of father and son since we humans began designating ourselves as such. I wonder if you would have had the same feelings about me.

I wish we could have found out.

You would have been 21 this year. 21 father’s days have come and gone since your brief existence. In the early days, I used to try as hard as I could to ignore this day, to not think about it. Certainly I never expressed emotions about you. There were a lot of reasons for this. I didn’t want to make your Mother feel horrible. For her part, she has always been open and supportive, but…

If it is one thing that I have learned about women, my son, it is that they have a boundless capacity for guilt and self-hate. I didn’t want her to take on the guilt of your not being here.

As time went on, and fathers days rolled by, I allowed myself to imagine what you would have been like in that year. I tried to remember myself at that age, and fantasized that you would be smarter, stronger, more kind, less prone to violence for the pleasure of it. In my mind’s eye, as you grew you were the pinnacle of budding manhood. You possessed all the things I wish I had in myself, and lacked all the things I wish I didn’t have.

I dreamed that I had surrounded you with good books and art. You were a painter, a writer, a poet, a warrior. You were some strange amalgam of Hemingway and Aldo Nadi. You were all the things I wished myself to be.

Perhaps you were with me after all.. Maybe it was you, in some strange way that pushed me to taste life as deeply as I could. To strive to live an artful life. I know for a fact that I would not have gone down certain paths if you were here…

I am who I am. I am not your grandfather. I am a lustful, violent, simple creature. Sure, I dreamed of surrounding you with all those wonderful things, but I also dreamed of engaging wholeheartedly in all the stereotypical bad Dad things..

I would have taken you to your first strip club, even though I really don’t like them. I would have shared good scotch and cigars with you. I would have chuckled at you when you learned your own lessons about excess and vice.

I would have showed you how to shave with a straight razor, like a “real” man.  I would have given you advice on women, and enjoyed the results of your first revelations into the mysteries of Venus.

I don’t know if I would have been a “good” father… But I would have been YOUR father. And like the gift of unconditional love and acceptance my own father has always given me. I would have given that to you.

Our line dies with me. Since writing to you is an exercise in vulnerability, I can tell you that this fact bothers me in ways I truly do not understand. But such things are impotent emotions. I can rage against the Sisters of Fate all I wish, but they do not care.

I miss you, even though I never really met you. This Father’s Day will come and go, and if I don’t get myself killed on some Damn fool adventure I will write you again next year…

Perhaps your ghost is with me, perhaps it isn’t. My theology is a bit muddy these days. The only thing that I know in my deepest of hearts is that I love you.

Written June 2017

Music: Copper Meditations

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This is a piece of music I wrote for a video art project for https://fineartbyjamie.smugmug.com

It was used in a performance art piece. Some of the background sounds were captured and the overall feeling was written while contemplating the Copper River.

There is a lot of air and simple sounds of the water to begin with.

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Music: Library of Dreams

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Here is a piece of music I created in late 2019, BC (Before Covid)

My first Deed of Arms

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This is an accounting of the first formal deed of arms I was privileged to hazard. This was written January of 2013

On the last day of August, Anno Sociatas XXXIX do I, Lord Robert Downey, a man blessed more than his worth, sit with ink and quill, and write these words, having been hard pressed by my companions to do so. This is not in keeping with the ancient traditions of our fathers, for it seems unseemly to me to write of my own endeavors, but for the pleasure of my companions, for the renown of those most worthy Men at Armes who participated, and for the honor of my most Radiant Lady I am compelled to write down this deed. I beg forgiveness from you, most noble reader, for my audacity.

            I am blessed with living in the lands of the Barony of Illiton, being held for our most excellent Dragon King by Baron Gareth Thorne, and Baroness Katherine Oakley. In the spring of this year, Our Most Dread and Glorious Soverign King Alaric commanded Their Excellencies to make ready the Barony’s forces for war. When these words did reach my ears I rejoiced heartily, for serving our King is a most glorious thing. I also contemplated the opportunity for deeds of armes between armies in the fashion our Ancient fathers wrote about. As I and my household readied for war, my heart seized upon starting an enterprise. For the Love and Honor of my beautiful Lady, for the pleasure of my Master, to display my newly registered armes for the first time upon the field, and to honor a Knight who had taught me much in the way of armes, I would put myself to the hazard, and attempt a Deed of Armes.

            With grim resolution did I set forth to prepare for this deed. As is right and proper, I sought the services of a scribe to fashion letters for each of the Mighty Kings that would gather their forces to this dread conflict. My good friend, Lord Wilhelm Mihallik, whose silver pen can create miracles and delights for the eyes, offered his services to ennoble my quest. I heartily accepted his help, but I fear I vexed him, for he agreed to help before he had seen the cascade of words I wished to convey. He was sorely pressed in the task of creating eighteen letters fit for a King to read, but with grim determination, and love of beautiful things in his heart did he fashion these parchments. I shall now record here what these letters contained:

            “Unto the Most Splendid and Dread Monarch of the mighty Kingdom of ____________ do I, Lord Robert Downey, a humble warrior of little status but much desire send humble greetings, May the Lord keep and bless thee, and may the light of Glory shine ever upon your Realm.

            I beg forgiveness for my feeble and ungraceful words as I am but a simple warrior of the Dragon, being not Knight, nor Squire, but a humble student of Chivalry and of the sword. I tremble with the audacity of sending you this missive, but my heart, the love of my most excellent Lady, and the simple joy of Deeds of armes do push me to strive above my station. 

            In the lands of the Middle there lives a most Chivalrous and excellent Knight, possessing of pure heart and skillful sword arm. I much desire to be worthy of his tutelage, but fear my humble birth and skills are not deserving of such a Master. With great desire and much love of the joy of simple combat have I set myself upon a Quest. I will pit myself against a warrior from each kingdom present, and live with joyful pleasure in this deed of armes, or die a humble man who strove too high. If I satisfy my quest in honorable fashion, then I will know I have it in me to be the student of a Knight, and will be worthy of honoring my most radiant Lady.

            To accomplish this, I most humbly beg a boon. Will you send a warrior of your Kingdom to strive with me in noble combat? It need not be a Knight or Squire, only a warrior of honor who can judge my efforts. I shall make myself available at their pleasure upon the pickup fields on the days of August 11th, 12th, and 13th 2-4 PM with my Lady beside a shield Ermine, a tower and on a chief embattled vert a fiddle fesswise reversed and a fiddle fesswise argent.

with heartfelt gratitude do I thank you for your time in consideration of this matter. 

Ever humbly in service

Lord Robert Downey of Forfar

House Fallen Star, Barony of Illiton, Middle Kingdom

Protégé to Master Günther Von Stein”

            Lord Wilhelm delivered these eighteen letters to me, and my Dearest Lady lovingly folded and sealed them in the ancient and proper fashion. She also prepared a boke for worthy participants to write their words and admonitions. (After this fete was done, I delivered this boke to the glorious Knight who has given me training. Alas, I did not record all the names from the boke before I gifted it to this knight, so My telling of this tale is missing a few names. This is a grievous error, as I would have the names of these fellows known, but alas, I cannot undo my mistake) After all other preparations were complete, We loaded our wagons, and followed our King to the fields of Pennsic.

            When we had arrived and arrayed our camp in proper and war-like fashion, I sought and procured the services of a most Excellent Herald, as is proper for such deeds. Lord Samwell of Hartshorn Dale proved to be an exceptional herald, and did serve me nobly, adding honor to the name of his office. For a day did he and I travel the roads between noble camps to deliver letters to the High Kings of our earth. I tell you now that this day in itself was high adventure, and we were honored above our stations to speak with terrible and splendid sovereigns, and High officers of state. I trembled with the audacity of such a thing, but my Herald proved to be bold and worthy of his title. We were given much pleasure and honor by these most noble and powerful Lords and Ladies, so much so that we were saddened when the last of the letters was delivered. With sore feet, and fiery eyes, my Herald took his leave for the day, and I returned to my own camp, to prepare for the next day.

            I did not sleep well that night, for I spent the sleepless hours in contemplation. In the late watches, the demons of doubt tormented me ceaselessly, for I feared I was striving above my station, or would fail in such a fashion as to bring dishonor to my Lady, and those I wished to honor. As the sun rose, however, I determined in my heart that even should I fail, and prove unworthy, I would strive with open heart and all my strength, and let these Noble warriors and my Lady measure the worth of my deeds.

            My Master Gunter and I loaded the wagons with chairs and refreshment, and the beautiful shade pavilion of gold and yellow he had fashioned for this deed, and with my Lady and her splendid mother, we proceeded to the fields of Pennsic. We quickly put all in order, and My dearest Constance armed me in a most expert fashion. After warming up on the pickup fields with several noble warriors, I sat by my Lady, and waited. We passed an hour in pleasant conversation and bouts with warriors, when my Herald Samwell approached with his Royal Majesty Robert de Rath, mighty Soverign of the majestic Kingdom of Atlantia, and one of his Majesty’s doughty warriors. His Majesty spoke with eloquence and power, and delivered to me a young and skilled warrior. I had the joy and pleasure of introducing my Lady to these Fine gentlemen, and his Majesty took refreshment, and prepared to watch and judge this deed of armes between myself and this skillful warrior. We chose to contest with Sword and Shield, for five blows received, and, saluting our sovereigns and Ladies, we engaged each other with lusty vigor. With smiles on our faces, we strove for some minutes, my noble adversary being quite skilled, the eyes of my Lady and his Majesty ever upon our efforts. After receiving three excellent blows from my friend, God shined upon me, and I bested him with five blows. We removed our helms and reveled in the joy of combat. I sat this noble warrior beside my Lady so they could judge our efforts, and presented him with a gift of luxury to bestow upon his inspiration. I was then greatly blessed by His Majesty offering combat as well. I leapt to arm myself, and eagerly accepted. I was then blessed with joyfully receiving many blows from His Majesty, and striving happily in this contest. The King then deemed my efforts honorable, and He and His warrior wrote in my boke. Then, after refreshing themselves, they took their leave. I was greatly pleased and humbled by this encounter, and having realized his Majesty had left the gift of a well crafted dent in my breastplate, swore to never remove it in remembrance of this event. 

The previous day, My Herald and I had the pleasure of speaking with His Royal Majesty Baldar Langstrider, King of Mighty Trimaris, and the most excellent Crown Prince Gaston de Vieuxchamps. These to Noble warriors were on their own quest during this war, and His Majesty proposed we fulfill our quests together by my participation in their Passage of Armes. I joyously accepted this proposal, and as this was the day to fulfill this, my Lady, my Master and I proceeded to where his Majesty’s Deed was being performed. I had the great pleasure of introducing my Lady to His Majesty, his Highness, and a most noble knight of Trimaris. I then armed myself, and entered the list with his Majesty. I strove with all my might, and took great pleasure in the skill with which this Mighty King of men struck ten blows upon my person, I then immediately launched into combat with his Highness the Crown Prince. Again with much skill did he best me with ten blows received. I then had the great honor of striving with a mighty knight of Trimaris. We both took much joy in this combat, and having been inspired by such worthy foes, I struck upon his person two blows before he completed his course of ten blows upon me. With joy he embraced me, and we spoke of noble deeds and chivalry for some time. These combatants judged my efforts honorable, and wrote in my boke, and I delivered my humble gift of luxury to these gentlemen. Many good words were spoken, and I shall remember them always.

After these events transpired, it was time to end for the day, so we packed the wagons, and removed ourselves to our encampment.

            The next day was beautiful and windy, and with much excitement, we returned to the field. After having set up, I again warmed up with my fellow brothers of the sword, and waited.

            Soon, a lone warrior with fiery eyes approached our pavilion. He had one of our letters in his hands, and was well armed. He introduced himself in a noble fashion, as a warrior of the Grand Kingdom of the Outlands, and leader of the Clan Tinker. With much joy did we receive him, and offer him refreshment. We then spoke for much time on honor, Chivalry, the paths of Knighthood, and many other things. My Lady Delighted in the wonderful gift he brought her, a pin of the Outlands stag fashioned expertly and designed by himself. He also gave her a beautiful rose. I was then able to give him my gift of luxury to his inspiration, and having enjoyed ourselves in this manner, we armed for the Deed at hand. We merrily engaged each other in combat to five blows recieved, and many minutes ensued. He proved to be a skilled and joyful adversary, and we both enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. We both exchanged several blows, some of them landing upon both our persons. Eventually, it had to end, and he landed the final blow with great skill upon my person. With much pleasure taken from this combat, we removed our helms, and refreshed ourselves. Again we spoke on noble subjects. I was thrilled to hear he would soon take the chain of Chivalry from his King, and we spoke on this for some time. Having written in my boke, this Noble warrior took his leave, and departed. 

            While my Lady and I sat, a noble man in splendid livery approached our pavilion. With princely stride did he approach us, and from his livery I recognized him as His royal Majesty of the Great Kingdom of Drachenwald, Cadogan map Cado. In Kingly fashion did he greet us, and I again had the pleasure of introducing my Lady too a powerful Sovereign. He spoke wonderful words of complement to our letters, and this deed, and pledged that he would not only fulfill my quest tomorrow with his person, but also bring a native son of his land to strive with me as well. He then told me that he had just an hour hence arrived on site, after traveling continuously for 24 hours, and after receiving my missive, could not take his rest until he had spoken to me. I was humbled and honored by this, and tried to express my gratitude with my crude words. He then took his leave for the day.

After these events transpired, it was time to end for the day, so we packed the wagons, and removed ourselves to our encampment.

            The next day, my Beloved Lady, of whom there is no equal, adorned herself with her finest clothing, and jools, and with pride stationed herself under my golden pavilion to view the last day of this deed. As in the days before, we prepared ourselves, and I warmed up with my brothers in armes. Soon, however, a most noble entourage approached. It was without question that I knew a queen was approaching. I was approached by the Herald of Northshield who introduced me to her Majesty Queen Bridei. Queenly indeed was her bearing and the star shining upon her brow caused me to bow low to honor her. With wild joy did I introduce her to my Lady, and, when she took her rest, she delivered to me her chosen champion. A noble warrior of Northshield indeed was this man, and it was certain his eyes were filled with the inspiration of his Queen. We strove mightily in this deed, and reveled in the pleasure of it. When the last blow was struck, we embraced in a brotherly fashion, and he attended his queen. I joyfully gifted him with a thing of luxury and, after a short time; this most noble company took their leave.

            As they were departing, another Queenly company was approaching. The proud Falcon, gold and purple marked them as from the Kingdom of Calontir, but the Radient and beautiful queen amongst them marked them as Splendid and noble folk. The herald of Calontir approached and, with much skill and gravity did ask me if I recognized the letter he held in his hand. It was indeed one of the letters crafted by Lord Wilhelm, and he introduced me to his Queen and the noble champion of this most radiant Monarch. I was honored above my station with her presence, and she delivered to me her champion to fulfill my quest. She and her company then took their leave, as they had pressing business of state. I introduced her champion to my Lady, and we conversed for some time on noble things. We then armed ourselves for combat. He proved to be a skilled and worthy adversary, and we strove for quite some time. After many minutes, we stood at four blows a piece. I saluted him and his Queen, and he saluted my Lady before we commenced. After a flurry of skilled exchanges, he laid a fine blow upon my helm, and we embraced in joy. He took his ease and refreshment, and I gave him a gift of luxury for his inspiration. We spoke of many things, but when he spoke of being the champion of a Queen, the fire in his eyes burned so brightly I knew the soul of this man, and without a doubt he was most worthy of this title. He wrote in my boke, and after speaking pleasantly, he took his leave. I felt blessed and honored by this exchange, and rejoiced in the pleasure my Lady took from this deed.

            Soon after, the most kingly stride of His Majesty of Drachenwald approached with a noble warrior at his side. With much joy did I greet these two, and His Majesty introduced me to his warrior. This gentleman of Bavarian descent greeted me as a brother, and told unto me that this was to be his first fight not only at the Pennsic wars, but on a different continent from his birth. I rejoiced in this, and was humbled by the effort it took to deliver this warrior at this very moment to help in my quest. His majesty took his rest beside my Lady, and we prepared ourselves to exchange blows. We fought with vigor and joy, and it was easy to see the pleasure we both saw in this exchange. After some time, he skillfully bested me, and we embraced each other not as warriors from far flung kingdoms, but as brothers in armes. His Majesty Cadogan then blessed me further with combat himself. He was skilled, and Kingly, and I rejoiced in the nobility and strength he showed me. After I thankfully received blows upon my person, we took our rest, and spoke of many noble things. He spoke of his Kingdom, and its peoples, and I, a humble warrior of the dragon, was shown the great pride he held for his Kingdom. After many words, and after they wrote in my boke, these to chivalrous warriors took their leave, carrying with them my gift. With their departure, the time for my deed was at an end. We packed the wagons for the last time, and removed ourselves to our camp.

            So ends this tale. After this transpired, the Great Kings did indeed go to war, and I strove with all my heart to serve my king in this conflict. I delivered my boke with the names of these warriors and what they wrote to the worthy knight who stoops to train such a low born man as myself. I did not tell his name in this missive, as I do not yet know if this deed pleased him, but I shall keep the memory of this enterprise in my heart forever, and shall remember and bless these noble fellows for the honor they showed me, the lessons they taught me, and the chivalry they exemplified. They honored this humble warrior above my station, and I shall ever strive to be worthy of this. Although many kingdoms did not send a warrior, I have been overwhelmed by the glorious  response I did get, and sincerely pray the Honor of my Lady, My Master, the Knight who Teaches me, and my worthy opponents has been well served.

So begins my life in the Culture of Armes..

Lord Robert Downey of Forfar

House Fallenstar

Barony of Illiton

Middle Kingdom

Begging the Boon for Anton

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I wrote this to beg the boon for one of the very first Masters of Defense of the Middle Kingdom, one of my dearest friends, Clint. This was written September 2016

Sovereigns, may I approach your Royal Presence.

I wish with all my heart to speak upon this grave matter before your Court,

As their Majesties know, I am……. Finicky about the word “Chivalry”. It is a subject to which I have dedicated much of my existence, and in spite of my best efforts, I am still but a beginning student. 

The question before the Court is if this man possess the Chivalry required of him to take, and fulfill this oath. 

It is a difficult question, for I am still not convinced that Chivalry is something you possess.  

Perhaps it possesses you.

I would propose that the intent of this oath, written by our ancestors, puts upon the oath maker the necessity of Franchise, for in my opinion, that is the….. alchemical virtue of Chivalry.

What is Franchise… Yet another lifetime of study is needed to answer that question fully, but suffice it to say that, in crude terms, Franchise is the OBLIGATION of NOBILITY.

You Do what you Do because you Are what you Are. because you can’t help it. because your very being demands it. 

Many years ago, Literally 15 seconds after I met this man, I, an untutored, untested and course man of coat armor, was served by him so Nobly that I instantly knew What he was.

Since that time, our histories have been entwined. He has served Masters and Kings, been champion of Queens, 

he has gracefully suffered coarse peasants with croaking tongues and hubris bloated gasbags who spew forth rancid words. 

he has protected Noble ladies, Steered guile filled thieves to their own ennoblement, 

been an exemplar and in fact, been one of the REASONS for the founding of an entirely new Order. 

He has made countless children laugh in delight, been the martial test of other men’s spirits. Made beautiful maidens swoon, shed blood for My King. Given shelter to a stricken Knight, fulfilled oaths of word and blood…. 

Been My friend.

And that is not altogether easy.

Through all of these things, all of these trials and honors and heartbreaks and victories, ever and always he has acted in accordance with Franchise. He has been defined by his Nobility, because he could do not otherwise.

Over the years, He has honed this skill of service to the level of art. If you watch, It seems effortless at times, though it is far from it. 

He has served the beloved People for whom I am sworn to protect so well that it reaches the level of Sprezzatura.

That is Mighty.

Your Majesties, This man is Noble, and has great capacity to express Chivalry. I would trust my life, my Honor, and most importantly the well being of your People to his wisdom. 

Thus is my council given. 

Heraldic announcement for Rocky

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I wrote this in October 2016. It was to be the last time Rocky Fought in Crown Tourney for the Middle Kingdom.

Now come before you an icon of strength forged before the race of men was diminished. 

Now come before you the starlight of grace and unwavering beauty. 

Here stands Gunther von Stein, Master, Forged from the bones of the mighty Rockhsllic the strong, possessor of titles innumerable. Father of Knights, Forger of Swans, beloved of Cavaliers, bloody qcampaigner of a thousand stricken fields and knightly servant of a hundred kings. Exemplar of a life in harness, in service to Chivalry, always. 

Here stands Maria Theresa rebearo de santos, Mistress, She who forged her own Coronet of barony, from the reeking mud of nothing, she who shaped kingdoms with skillful statecraft, Mother of Dragons, inspiration of enduring love. 

Before you, great monarch, stand heroes of this age the likes of which will never be seen again. 

Before you stands strength and grace defiant, possessed of the enduring constancy, lustful of that crown forged from their blood, and gilded by their spirit. 

If, as the ancients say, doing more is truly more worthy, 

Great Monarch, 

These are indeed the most worthy heroes of a Kingdom of titans. 

Good people, Here are Dragons invincible. 

The Story of Draco Insickness

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On the eve of the Elevation of my great friend and Splendid fellow Leftenant Terrance, a Master of the sword who is so unparalleled in his coolness that it took the creation of an entire new Order to contain him, I would share this tidbit. 

Tomorrow, I will give Weird uncle Terry a gift… but it is a very special gift. It is a sword.

Now, the notion of giving Terry a sword as a gift for his Elevation to the Order of Masters of Defense is similar to giving Jerry Garcia the absolute best ditch weed you have ever possessed: Yeah, it may be good to you, and you may even have spent a lot of money on it, but he has thrown away far better in disgust! 

No, to give Terry a sword for his Elevation requires a most singular type of sword.. It needs to have phenomenal cosmic powers, unparalleled pedigree, and features so rare that they can never be reproduced!

To understand this sword, I will have to tell you a tale. Like all good tales it is…. More or less… completely factual… from a certain point of view.

Years ago, I was a young squire happily in service to my Master at the Pennsic Wars. It was the night after the Combat of the 30, and My Master’s squire brother, Mongo, was telling me tales of our great line so that I may be educated. He told me many stories of days and nights of high adventure, when He, Bardolph, and Terry, all sworn liege men to the great Sir Logos would lustfully roam the Knowne World.

He also told me of ancient times, when there were few Knights, and the world was a strange and magical place. (in other words, LSD was still legal)

Upon this landscape of Gods and Monsters, a very great and honorable sword was forged by the Divine Himself; Oathbinder.

But Mongo’s tale was not of the birth of this blade of Ancient Kings… It was of the inevitable afterbirth of….

Draco In-sickness.

Young squire that I was, I had never heard of such a thing. Uncle Mongo strove to educate me that night.

“The world requires balance. If a thing of Light is born, so too must a thing of Darkness be born.  In this way you will know which is which”, he said.

This seemed to make sense… As a general rule, things seem much more reasonable after drinking Mongo’s beer. He was a Canadian after all.

He continued.

“When the Mighty Oathbinder was forged by the Gods, they also forged another mighty blade, Draco In-sickness; certainly not it’s equal, but powerful nonetheless. The Gods then gave this awe-imbued object to the Sumarian Demon Whore known as SheKrewl.”

” SheKrewl was seduced by the gleaming power of this blade, and she did ravage and lay waste upon many kingdoms. One day, a young man Known as Lucas Otto Gustav Oswald Setephen vom Schenecke did challenge the Demon Whore in single combat, so that the Knowne Kingdoms of men may know peace.”

“He did defeat the wicked Demon, and wrested the mighty Draco In-sickness from her clutching, yet beautifully supple and manicured hands. With venomous anger, the beautiful hag did curse Logos saying “your line shall never be rid of this Sword. You and your Sons will be doomed to be its keeper.” Thus were this Knight’s spurs earned, and His line was established.”

“And where is this amazing sword, Uncle Mooongo” I slurred. We had been hard at work in the celebration of rich ransomes after all!

“Alas, being wise in the ways of Science, Sir Logos did see that the splendidity of this sword’s consummate V’s, and it’s awesome-niforousness was too great a thing for mere mortal men, so he hid it. But the hiding place was plundered, and it was lost. I suppose Demon Whore curses don’t have much power in the days of the New Gods.” Mongo said, a curious sadness and longing reflecting in his foam flecked visage.

I mulled on this seemingly altogether factual and correctly remembered tale, and went to sleep.

In the morning, I was paid ransomes for the three Very fine Gentlemen I had the pleasure of capturing the day before. When I examined the treasure, I was astounded to see, amidst silks and gold, a most striking and unique sword.

“This must be Draco Insickness!” I exclaimed in amazement. The sun gleamed upon it’s plasticine hilt. It’s blade clunked in an unusually powerful-rattly way when struck. I picked it up and felt it’s battle-ready power flow into my arms.

I immediately saw that such a powerful sword could not possibly be kept by a mere Squire. It so happened that my Filial contract to Sir Bardolph stipulated 1/3 of all war spoils I earned must be paid to him in recompense for his education. As this was obviously an Heirloom of our line, I did reverently set aside this object of amazingness to be paid him as part of this obligation. 

(That year, I also paid him a stretchy white belt with sequins, festooned with a bedazzled belt buckle that had an LED panel inset in its center. This panel curiously scrolled the words “I’m Duke Bardolf! Yo Baby!” no idea how that got programmed in, but it certainly went to the right Knight!”)

In any case, when I did present my Liege with this heirloom of his house, he was literally without words. I saw this to be a good sign. (young squire, people.. Gimme a break!)

Apparently, as Sir Logos had discerned before him, He knew this needed to be given back to the Gods, so when I was no longer around, he hurled this mighty blade into the (socially responsible version of) deepest pool he could find. (The recycle bin)

Alas, This was not meant to be, for the Demon Whore’s curse held true. When the Great King of the Dragon Throne did dub me Knight of their Order, I was astounded to behold that somehow Draco In-sickness had been transported to my very own keep!

It is now obvious to me that our Line is cursed to bear this mighty relic, and to forever be tempted by its dark powers… for I have caught myself lovingly caressing it’s slightly-radioactive-from-Pakistani-tank-plating blade…. It’s deliciously pot-metal hilt.. The majestic sweep of its wing-quillion-thingies.

The slightly rubbed off painted eye stares back at me darkly, whispering dark and delicious thoughts of burninating and demon whoring.

It is lucky for me that another of Logos’ line is to be elevated for mastery of the sword. For he will need all his strength to resist it’s splindiforous Majesties. 

I give you Draco In-sickness. Think long on if you wish to be a Peer. You just never know what responsibilities you will wind up with!!!! (wink) 

Challenge of the Fields of Cloth and Gold

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This challenge was written for the inaugural SCA event for the Barony of Illiton called the Fields of Cloth and gold. It was written January, 2013:

To all Princes, Dukes, Counts, Barons, Knights, and Men of coat armor who be not enemies of the King our Lord, or who are not cast out of the Culture of Chivalry do I, Baron Robert Downey, send heartfelt greetings.

I have assurances that the Heralds of the Great and Dread Baron Willhelm, and the Fierce and beautiful Baronwa Alzbeta have spread word far and wide of the Great festival of armes to be held in their lands on the Feast day of St. Hildegard of Bingen, this coming Saturday. 

I would have you know the nature of the test set before you, my fellow Men at Armes.  For make no mistake, those who don harness at this great festival of Arms will bathe their souls deeply in the Bath of honor, and shall emerge cleansed and clothed in great renown. 

It has been written by the Great Pagan philosopher, Aristotle, (may God  ease his pain in hell) that Man is composed of four states: The physical, the Emotional, the Intellectual, and the Spiritual. It is testament to the Wonderment of God’s creations that even a Man who’s soul is damned to hell, can discern the truth of God’s creation.

This truth is further revealed in the works of Fiore de Liberi. This Master of the arts martial has left us the mystery of the Segno.

When last this tournament was held by Their Excellencies, The company of men of coat armor, and the Noble ladies of the gallery discovered that these truths were right and proper, and as the Great Master Fiore stated, the perfect swordsman emerges from expressing to their fullest the four aspects of man. 

And so their Excellencies have determined that this Noble Enterprise will be focused on testing these aspects.

Those who care more for honor than their craven and corrupt bodies will present themselves upon their Excellencies’ list, so their bodies, their minds, their emotions and their spirits may be tested by the blows of their peers, under the watchful eyes of a  gallery of fine ladies.
As the ancient saying goes, “Renown is the coin of the tourneyor”. Make no mistake on the morning of the 17th there is great opportunity for Renown or Infamy. Should you choose to not don bright harness in the sun, you will count yourself lessened for not hazarding your body to win worshipful honor.

I shall meet those who seek greatness upon the Fields of cloth and Gold.