Editing Great OAF Stories

From: JennaSW <br>
Organization: AOL (http://www.aol.com) <br>
Subject:      OAF Stories:  Francisco Duron<br>
To: CALONTIR@CRCVMS.UNL.EDU<br>

<< Francisco Duron >>

Organized the only 'legit' entertainment at the first Knowne World Cocktail
Party, a madrigal group.   (The rest of the night was a drunken songfest.)

Was pronounced "Lord of the Dance" by HRM Branwyn WhiteRaven, who was too
worried about pissing off Laurels to use the proper term of "Dancemaster".
HRM did not realize the neo-Pagan implications of the title....  One neo-Pagan
shrugged it off by saying at the end of they reign they would kill Francisco
and scatter his blood over the corn.

Jenna
a bard who didn't know Francisco that well before he moved

---- 

<< John the Bearkiller >>

He attempted to bribe Baron Steven Ironhand to change sides at a
MidRealm/Meridies Border Raid with an offer involving the Barony of Grey Niche
and an undisclosed amount of Lambrusco.

It is reported that at one of his deCoronations, Bearkiller was 'killed' by a
bear.

In the Fools' Parade at Pennsic, 1990, Bearkiller dressed in Elizabethan drag
and opened his arms wide to HRM Tomeeki, shrieking, "Bend me over, make me a
woman!"  (Tomeeki was too terrified to move.)  I saw this myself, and was also
too terrified to move.

Jenna
a bard with an annoying habit of staying sober, and a good memory for
everything but names

----

From: Cassandra McCraw <br>
Organization: University of Arkansas
Subject:      Re: OAF Stories:  John the Bearkiller
To: CALONTIR@CRCVMS.UNL.EDU

>
> In the Fools' Parade at Pennsic, 1990, Bearkiller dressed in Elizabethan drag<br>
> and opened his arms wide to HRM Tomeeki, shrieking, "Bend me over, make me a<br>
> woman!"  (Tomeeki was too terrified to move.)  I saw this myself, and was also<br>
> too terrified to move.<br>

And each of his "boobies" was about the size of a small watermelon.
They bounced up and hit him in the face when he walked.

You've seen women who could put a small puppy in their ample bosoms?
John's could have held Hubert!

Think in cartoons,

Fionna


----

<< Kensor >>


Single-handedly started the Cookie War.

Attempted to bow-hunt rabbits out of season in his suburban back yard.

Fought for a friend's pet cat at the Unicorn Hunt tourney at Sprites 1987.
Following the lead of every other fighter, who had upon receiving their favor
kissed their consort,  Kensor kissed the cat.

Photos prove that Kensor was also part of the Ever-Impending Beer-Powered
Pavel-Laden 12-Legged Monster that took out East Rex at Pennsic XV.

When Kensor and Roderick got in a drunken discussion at a post-revel of, "But
I thought *I* was fighting for Saethryd in Crown!", it was Kensor who hurried
home first to ask Saethryd if he could fight for her.  (Neither of them had
bothered to ask her by late April.)

It would simply take too long to relate the drunken behaviour.

Took on a studentship as a Troll-in-Training.

Sent his parents to a hotel so he could house the entire Royal Retinue at an
event, and throw the post-revel.  (At one point there were 42 people in the
kitchen and living room of his parent's extremely modest home, no numbers
available on the rest of the house and property.)

Jenna
a bard with the annoying habit of staying sober, who has a good memory for
everything but names


----


<<  Rodger de Bayeux >>

Was declared to be of Polish Persona for a day, so that he could be handed a
polearm and used as a May Pole.

At the first Breakfast of Champions at Lilies 1988, his weapon suitable for a
breakfast table was "a delicate eating axe".

Fought in Crown Tourney Fall 1996 in a helm sportily decorated as The Tick.


----


Roderick

There are photos extant of Roderick duct-taped into a sleeping bag, with an
apple in his mouth, being carried on a scutum at the first Estrella Calontir
attended, in 1986. Also of the alarming young lady in a sideless surcoat,
black velvet above-the-elbow gloves and a cigarette in a foot-long holder, who
wanted to buy him.

Not to mention "The Holy Grail", sleeping on the Caid Rex's trash pile,
sleeping on our gear in the bus......

(The more I look at the photo, the more I think that Caid Rex was Earl Glynn.)

There was the incident involving the attack on the cookie-dough-carrying page
at the Estrella of the Fried Chicken, in which Roderick opened a tube of
cookie dough by smashing it against his forehead.  (A trick later imitated by
Stephen of Bellatrix, because he'd been told "That's how we do it in
Calontir.'", just to see if he would fall for it.  He did.)

The occasion in Bois d'Arc (I just happen to know the date, Oct 20, 1985) when
Roderick was so, er, unable to walk, that Richard had to carry him into court
slung over his shoulder to receive the award for the brewing competition.  Ever
polite, Richard 'bobbed' Roderick at HRM Edward Cire before hauling him and
his scroll back out of court.

The occasion he fought in Crown Tourney, got to the finals, and suddenly
realized with extreme horror, "If I win, I have to eat feast!"  (William II
won.)

The Crown Tourney he fought in right after getting a mohawk haircut, giving
some of us alarming mental pictures of his remaining tuft of hair setting off
the Cross on the front of the Princes' Coronet.

His insistence on being LAST in the March of Precedence at Crown Tournies,
because of his standing as an OAF as being Lowest of the Low.

Bardic Event 1988 where around the campfire Roderick and Kensor started
argueing over who was going to get to fight for Saethryd in Crown Tourney.
(Neither had bothered to tell the lady of their plans.)

There are photos extant of Roderick being one of those who carried the scutum
upon which Pavel rode when he/they ran over the King of the East at Pennsic
XV, 1986.  Witnesses report it was Roderick who blurted, "Kick it in second!"
when the Ever-Impending Beer-Powered Pavel-Laden 12-Legged Monster took out
King Randall.

Fool's Court 1986 in BFS, when Valans was King, Richard - in lavender Tudor
- was Queen, and Roderick was their long-lost daughter.  Roderick was borne
in on a litter by the Singing Bandits, who threw dandilions before him.  He
looked stunning in his lavender Tudor gown.

Jenna
a bard who stays annoyingly sober, and has a good memory for almost everything
but names.


----

<< Valens >>

There are no exact numbers on how many of the Pavel/Valans schemes for which
Pavel gets the blame although Valans actually came up with the idea.

His own account taken shortly after the fact, recounted at least one:  The
Nipple Contest.

(Which spawned the Peenie Contest, and caused *Pavel* to be "grabbed by my
scraggly chest hairs" and talked to by the Steward of the Society.)

At Pennsic XV brought a good-looking lady knight back to camp and, with
Pavel's help, tried to entice her with beer and offers of the two of them, a
tent, and a bottle of Wesson Oil.  He later found out she was "Mistress
Mistress SIR Hillary, Steward of the Society!"  (He neglected to mention
Viscountess)  Pavel fell over moaning when he heard this -- I was present.  By
the end of the war week no-one remembered that Valans had ever been present at
the attempted seduction....

(This story was circulated in a small booklet in the Persian Gulf during
Desert Shield.)

Received an inactive canton of Grey Niche, Meridies.

Received the city of Acapulco from the Outlands.

Invented boar hunts with pig noses on the 'boars'.

Helped Pavel take over the tap of the dark beer keg and with him forced guests
at the Pennsic Knowne World Cocktail Party to recount the wierdest place they
had ever had sex, to get dark beer.  The line was very long.

Photos exist of Valans sleeping during a pre-battle strategy explanation at
Pennsic 1997.

Valans has also been observed napping on a cloak up to 30 seconds before the
March of Prescedence which he was to lead at Crown Tourney.

Participated in the Jurassic Pork Boar Hunt in 1995.

Went to a very nice restaraunt on The Plaza in KC, 'fresh' from Lilies, to
order a steak for take-out.

Smuggled said steak dinner with garlic-butter potatoes into the Cardiac Care
Unit at nationally-known St Luke's Hospital, to feed to Pavel the Illuminated.

Jenna
a bard with the annoying habit of staying sober and having a good memory for
everything but names

 ---

<<  Someone said cire was an oaf? Don't remeber that......  >>

Nope, not to my knowledge.  "Eddie the Trucker King" deserved one, esp after
the incident involving the showers in the truck stop, but he never got one.


Rodger was made by Kensor I and Brayden II -- his scroll was a paper plate, it
was done at a RUSH session in Lonely Tower or Mag Mor.

Kensor was made by Dirge and Isadora, up north -- I think at 12th Night

John Bearkiller was made by Aesgeirr and Miriam for giving away Grey Niche, I
think at their Coronation

Kirk was made by Cathyn and Branwyn, the last night of Pennsic XXVI

Roderick was made by Cire and Elizabeth at the Martyrdom of Saint Pavel in
Standing Stones, 1986

Francesco, I don't know, I just remember it -- you say Aesgeirr?

Pavel, well....

I heard Valans was an OAF but was not present and cannot prove it.  Within
last 2 years.


Dirge told Kensor, and this is an exact quote,
"This puts you at the bottom of the Order of Prescedence.
Below people without AoA's
Below Mundanes
Below Lepers."  
Kensor was given fewmets, and tried to share them.

Roderick's scroll was a grocery sack.  Look up my report on The Martyrdom of
Pavel, Standing Stones March 1 1986 for the text.

Jenna


----

On Sat, 17 Jan 1998, Craig Brown wrote:

> Oh, yes, I have been reminded of Kirk.<br>
><br>
> does anyone recall the night of the chained golf carts?<br>
><br>
> crag<br>
><br>
> ( It has to start  " No Shit, there we were......"<br>

No shit, there we were, HL Martino FitzDavid (of the Outlands, White
Scarf, I believe) and I lounging around outside Pennsic Great Court. Our
view of the vast throng which was obscuring our view of the assembled
royalty (and we couldn't hear anything anyway) was obscured by this huge
18 seater, looking like it used a team of clydesdales for locomotion-sized
golf cart. The only thing better than a monstrosity of a golf cart is an
unattended monstrosity of a golf cart, in my opinion.

So Martino and I figured we might as well lounge in it. He wonders what
kind of dweeb (already a monster golf-cart driving dweeb) would leave this
beast stopped in all its immense ugliness, right outside Great Court where
all assembled had no choice but to look at this thing while they are
celebrating the achievements of their friends for fostering medieval
atmosphere and activities (and indeed Mistress Elasait was being Birded
that very afternoon). Clearly an individual-dweeb who would so abandon
this cart was unfit to actually drive this conveyance, and it should be
secured until proper arrangements could be made for public safety.

"Cover me!", says Martino.

So there I was, sitting in the front passenger seat of this
luxury-liner-sized golf cart (the kind with a canopy, even) trying to look
nonchalant and block the view of passers-by and the usual crowd of
kibitzers and gossipers who hang out outside Great Court, when I hear this
most *godawful* rattling, which I was sure echoed down by Willow Point.

Right in front of the astonished eyes of HL Martino and myself, this
immense chain was winding itself amongst the frame and steering wheel of
the cart, and the din was from the links bouncing off the high-quality
plastic construction of the aircraft carrier-sized luxury golf cart, about
to become social commentary sculpture. Martino discovered the lock and
found it secure. This puppy wasn't going anywhere.

"This might a good time to get that beer from your camp", said Martino.

And indeed it was, for passive resistance is thirsty work.

Random Acts, my lords and ladies.

The capper of the story is, and I have this on the best of authorities,
the cart belonged to some muckety-muck herald, who later despatched a
flunky herald to free the conveyance from its confines, with a dremel
tool. Dremel is a fine tool, but known for its versatility, not power.
>From the quality and size of the chain that appeared that sunny afternoon,
Pennsic Justice from a clear blue sky, that there lackey herald was going
to be there awhile, buzzing at that chain, until it took pity on him and
unlatched itself, the lesson having been delivered.

It's the absolute truth, to be best of my recollection.

Your servant,

Howard of Atlantia
Duke of Fence (White Scarf, Calontir)

(Will that do, Crag? ;)


----


Kvedjur fra Mikjal!

Since we're telling Bearkiller stories (and I owe Master Crag these stories
for his Web site), I'll tell mine.  First, "How John the Bearkiller Won His
Dragon's Tooth":

Pennsic XI was my first Pennsic, having authorized just two months earlier.
The bridge battle that year was held on the Runefield (as were all of the
battles that year - Pennsic XI had an attendance of about 2300, IIRC), with
three bridges.  I was fighting with the Indiana contingent for the first
time, and ended up on the "upper" bridge as a shieldman, with a 28" round
shield - which, in front of my 5'6" frame tends to cover almost all of the
legal areas.  Almost (which we'll come to later).

The Meridians, led by Duke John the Bearkiller, had the assignment of
taking the middle bridge.  Being on the right-hand side of the "upper"
bridge, I had a good view of that bridge for the whole battle.  The Eastern
force opposing the Meridians numbered maybe 30-40 in size, and seemed
fairly well disciplined.  In fact, that discipline would prove to be their
undoing.

As the battle was joined, I soon found myself serving as shieldman for Wolf
the Mighty of the Tuchux (who had allied with the Middle for this battle),
who was wielding a greatsword and having far too much fun for one person.
Since I was just being a wall, during less stressful moments, I watched the
goings on on the neighboring bridge.  The Eastern force apparently had
orders to march about 10-15 feet onto their bridge and hold - neither
advance or retreat, _no_matter_what_.  Duke John had advanced his troops
about a similar distance onto their end of the bridge, and a brief
stalemate occurred.  Then John took his spear and went out, alone and
unprotected, to meet the Eastern force, and perhaps bait them into rushing
this obviously demented spearman, whereupon the Meridians would dispatch
those so foolish as to take the bait.

The Easterners just stood there.  John taunted them.  The Easterners just
stood there.  John taunted them a second time (oops, sorry, wrong movie).
John started taking shots at the front line of the unit, all shieldmen, but
with small, tourney sized shields (remember, this was over 15 years ago,
before the introduction of the Great Calontir Shieldwall).  Still no
reaction.  So John starts using the unit as a spear pell, and started
causing some damage - a leg here, a kill there.  *Still* no reaction.
Then, he started employing a singularly devastating tactic.  John would
throw spear shots straight into a few shields, near the top edges, or just
over the tops of the shields, as if he was trying to get past the shields
and hit the polearmsmen in the second rank.  This would eventually cause
the shieldmen to begin to "cheat" their defense higher, and leave their
legs unprotected (small shields, remember?).  Then, John would fake a high
shot, change it into a leg shot, take the unprotected leg, and, as the now
wounded shieldman dropped to his knees, shoot over the downed shieldman
before his linemates could react and hit the now unprotected polearmsman
standing behind him in the chest.  Plus, maybe get another kill or wound in
the momentary confusion.  Then, he'd repeat the whole thing all over again,
with the same results.

And the Easterners just stood there, taking all that abuse.  Sir Emeric
Wendal, marshaling that bridge, starting keeping count, and by his
reckoning, Duke John single-handedly killed 12 and wounded 18 before the
Meridians took pity on them and overran the decimated unit toward the end
of the battle.

It turned out that the Eastern unit was, while very disciplined, also very
green, and took their orders *WAAAY* too literally.  As a result, a single
spearman (albeit a *very* good one) was able to take them apart.  In
recognition of his amazing efforts, the Midrealm King, Andrew III of
Seldomrest, awarded Duke John the Award of the Dragon's Tooth, becoming (I
believe) the first non-Midrealmer to receive that honor.

"How I Became A Bearkiller Story" in my next post....

Mikjal Annarbjorn




[[Category:Master Crag's Histories]] [[Category:History]]