War Report.
My first event in the hard-shell. Well, the second technicly, but I didn't get to fight the last time.
Got up at 6am, nice and early, had a good breakfast,*, got on the road and had a good bunch of laughs with the ex-wife as I made my way from Scotts Valley over to Milpitas. and I got on site fairly early. Set my stuff out, having brought my heavy armor, a moving blanket for my stuff a pillow and a sleep tube, just in case I should find myself either too inibriated, or some pointy hat said I need to stay.. which could have but did not happen.
Anyway.
I had to wait for Jared and Issac to show before getting armored up. I had popped my chinstrap rivit Friday, but when Jared did show, it wasn't too terrible much of a struggle to get it dealt with. Thank you J.
I basicly glued myself to his side for the battles. I figured if anyone would know what to do with me, he would. I died... a lot. I even managed to charge right onto a pike and catch it with my gut, right below my breast plate. ouch. But, I saluted and walked my dead arse off the field to wait for the res signal. and died again.. and again. It wasn't until Jared had basicly had enough that I got my first kill. It was in the Snow-ball tourney, I had paired up with Hosakawa, we picked a fight with another pair, and one charged past me to enguage Hosakawa with his great-sword. The mistake he made, was passing within my range.. He knew I was there.. and I knocked him on the back of the head to remind him.. *smiles* gently. I ended up dying to the next guy in the next flurry, but Hosakawa got him, and we continued on.
The day (for me) ended when I left my shield too far open and got cup-shotted.. hard. I think he was going for the gut and just dropped the tip a little low, but it was definately enough to put me on the ground.. rather quietly. Only when the battle was comming back around did I start yelling out "Dead on the Ground! Dead on the Ground!!" letting them know I was there and to watch their footing. I didn't fancy being a springboard or trip-hazard. Who ever it was (supposedly Brion of Glastonburry (sp?) but I wasn't checking.. he came back and checked up on me but I was still not quite inclined to move much.)
I got off the field as soon as the Queens Champion had been announced on the field. I stripped myself down to minimal, and got with the WD-40 and oil rag to wipe down my gear. a ritual which I believe I will be keeping post battle nomatter.. enough of my equipment iis rust eatedn, I don't need to look like a moving rust ball on the tourney or war field. It just doesn't do much for my self immage.
I met some good people, I faught some good fights, I stuck it out for as long as I could..
but I am not likely to be going back to a war...
At least, not with a shield. I am thinking I want a great axe, or a pole-arm next time. Now I just need to learn how to use one effectively.
I helped break down the Darkwood and Falcons pavilions, while slowly enjoying the single beer that I had been looking forward to all day,**, then I got into an enthusiastic and encouraging conversation with a gent named Philip who was interested in getting into the fray himself. sword combat, fighting styles, similarities, peculiarities.. many hours, and then I handed him off to another long winded gent and searched out the Cizer.. talked to folks, hung out with good folks and listened to song and chatter.. then at some point, I decided it was time to sleep. I unrolled my sleaping bag under the stars.. and was about 20 minutes into thinking about it.. when morning and the need to get rid of some water woke me up, once again at 6am.
My own self analogy.. was that I looked something like a Rugratz kid with his diapy hangin out, wrapped in plate metal, and treated like a seal pup..
*nods* Next war, I want two kills.
Got up at 6am, nice and early, had a good breakfast,*, got on the road and had a good bunch of laughs with the ex-wife as I made my way from Scotts Valley over to Milpitas. and I got on site fairly early. Set my stuff out, having brought my heavy armor, a moving blanket for my stuff a pillow and a sleep tube, just in case I should find myself either too inibriated, or some pointy hat said I need to stay.. which could have but did not happen.
Anyway.
I had to wait for Jared and Issac to show before getting armored up. I had popped my chinstrap rivit Friday, but when Jared did show, it wasn't too terrible much of a struggle to get it dealt with. Thank you J.
I basicly glued myself to his side for the battles. I figured if anyone would know what to do with me, he would. I died... a lot. I even managed to charge right onto a pike and catch it with my gut, right below my breast plate. ouch. But, I saluted and walked my dead arse off the field to wait for the res signal. and died again.. and again. It wasn't until Jared had basicly had enough that I got my first kill. It was in the Snow-ball tourney, I had paired up with Hosakawa, we picked a fight with another pair, and one charged past me to enguage Hosakawa with his great-sword. The mistake he made, was passing within my range.. He knew I was there.. and I knocked him on the back of the head to remind him.. *smiles* gently. I ended up dying to the next guy in the next flurry, but Hosakawa got him, and we continued on.
The day (for me) ended when I left my shield too far open and got cup-shotted.. hard. I think he was going for the gut and just dropped the tip a little low, but it was definately enough to put me on the ground.. rather quietly. Only when the battle was comming back around did I start yelling out "Dead on the Ground! Dead on the Ground!!" letting them know I was there and to watch their footing. I didn't fancy being a springboard or trip-hazard. Who ever it was (supposedly Brion of Glastonburry (sp?) but I wasn't checking.. he came back and checked up on me but I was still not quite inclined to move much.)
I got off the field as soon as the Queens Champion had been announced on the field. I stripped myself down to minimal, and got with the WD-40 and oil rag to wipe down my gear. a ritual which I believe I will be keeping post battle nomatter.. enough of my equipment iis rust eatedn, I don't need to look like a moving rust ball on the tourney or war field. It just doesn't do much for my self immage.
I met some good people, I faught some good fights, I stuck it out for as long as I could..
but I am not likely to be going back to a war...
At least, not with a shield. I am thinking I want a great axe, or a pole-arm next time. Now I just need to learn how to use one effectively.
I helped break down the Darkwood and Falcons pavilions, while slowly enjoying the single beer that I had been looking forward to all day,**, then I got into an enthusiastic and encouraging conversation with a gent named Philip who was interested in getting into the fray himself. sword combat, fighting styles, similarities, peculiarities.. many hours, and then I handed him off to another long winded gent and searched out the Cizer.. talked to folks, hung out with good folks and listened to song and chatter.. then at some point, I decided it was time to sleep. I unrolled my sleaping bag under the stars.. and was about 20 minutes into thinking about it.. when morning and the need to get rid of some water woke me up, once again at 6am.
My own self analogy.. was that I looked something like a Rugratz kid with his diapy hangin out, wrapped in plate metal, and treated like a seal pup..
*nods* Next war, I want two kills.