My First Pennsic

Yes, I was a Pennsic Virgin, one of at least four who went this XXVth
year of the War from our Province.  In the vehicle I rented, there were
two others besides myself.  Were we wise or foolish?  I cannot speak
for the others, but I can say that we all had a great time, barring the
one severe rain and the "Eastern Court Shuffle" -- a dance I learned
which was unique to this Pennsic.  But I get ahead of myself.

There were so many interesting classes to take during the day if one
was not in armor, I could not possibly attend all which I had wanted
to.  I also attended rehearsals for the Known World Choir.  (I want to
personally thank the Lady Rufina for letting me stand next to her as I
slowly relearned to read music and "followed" her by ear. I promise not
to join the Choir again until I am completely up to par once more.)

Bardic circles, pickup bands and parties galore throughout the
ever-growing Pennsic camp kept us all busy.  Although I was warned
against drinking anything made by anyone I did not know, I tried two
sips from a gentle at the party of a Midrealmer nicknamed Baron Fum. (A
good party, that one.) The drink was called "Stuff"--various fruits,
vodka, Bacardi rum and Aquavit.  I'm glad I only took two sips.  As it
was, I made my way back amongst a party of singing nuns to my first
shift at Troll and managed to get through it. Lord Robert Abeille was
kind enough to give me sip of some de Londres melomel to get the taste
of "Stuff" out of my mouth.

Then there was the storm on Thursday.  I had only just finished choir
rehearsal and had run back to change into court garb for the originally
scheduled Eastern Court when the warning came to batten down the camp.
I saw the true spirit of Pennsic then, as the fighters secured the
common tent and helped other gentles pack the essentials into it and
secure the smaller tents as best they could before the storm hit.  A
portion of the Ostgardr encampment rode out the worst in the great
tent, singing songs, telling stories and passing drinks around, enough
to relax but not impair for the cleanup ahead.  When it was over, tents
which were in the low-lying areas were moved up to the hill to dry, one
supply tent was repaired, spare room and blankets were provided for
those flooded out, and some went to the Barn to help in the emergency
food-and-shelter effort.  All in all an effort worthy of true and noble
persons had taken place.  I'm proud to know all who took part in it.

Friday was the night of Mistress Isabella's Ladies Night Out and of the
Masqued Ball.  I must admit I was, at the end, something of a prude, if
only because the previous afternoon I had been browsing for books at
the Poison Pen and witnessed an ancient Asian ritual take place there!
At least a dozen strapping gentles, clad in nothing but fendoshi, were
carrying on their shoulders a rather impressive object whose purpose
was quite obvious.  (I may be a widow, but decorum bids me describe
this discreetly.)  These men chanted and marched up the Low Road,
stopped before the merchant's tent, set their "totem" down and one of
the men cried out, "Everyone in the bookstore:  Be fertile!"  In
surprise (more like terror), I replied, "No! Not this year!"  They
picked up their symbol and marched on.  So this is the reason why, when
one particularly handsome gentle at Mistress Isabella's party had given
me a neck and back rub and asked me if there was anything else he could
do for me, I declined the invitation (with much difficulty, given I'd a
full glass of our hostess's strawberry melomel).  If the good Mistress
should read this, thank you, Madame!  I may be a widow, but at least
your fete showed me I'm not dead!

The following morning, I was told that members of my household and
canton should really come to Eastern Court after the Closing Court.
"Ah," I thought, "one of our number is to be recognized!"  So I set
aside the garb I would change into for that, put on my "everyday"
clothes and attended two classes I wished to attend before coming back
to dress for this event.  Imagine my shock when I found out that
Closing Court had been changed in time and place, and that Eastern
Court was taking place while I was attending  my second class!  No one
had told enough of the heralds, it seems.  I hastily bid my apologies
to Mistress Hilary and ran to meet my brother and sister-in-law at the
Royal encampment, without being able to change garb, only to find that
nothing below Maunche was handed down.

We were hot, sweaty, and a little cranky.  When I tried to attend
Closing Court, I went to the Information Booth to find out where it was
and was told it had already taken place on the Battlefield instead of
the Barn.  This was the second time (the third if you count Opening
Court) that people had been toyed with and left behind in this fashion,
and I was much annoyed.  "This is my first Pennsic, and I am not
impressed," I told the poor ladies at the booth before walking quickly
away, seeing out of the corner of my eye, but not much caring at the
time, that their Majesties were probably within earshot.  A little
later, however, after I had downed a much-needed glass of water, I
returned to the booth to apologize to the poor things who had taken the
brunt of my outburst.  They graciously accepted, adding that they felt
as I did, that the changing of times and places with little or no
notice was hardly courteous of the powers that be.

So I close by saying that I must give the lie to my outburst:  I was
impressed with My First Pennsic, and except for the glaring "Eastern
Court Shuffle," I had a wonderful time and will go to future Pennsics
as my finances and schedule permit.  Lord Mayor Master Ian of Clan
Mitchell and his crew should be very proud of themselves for a job well
done--VIVAT!


from the September 1996 Seahorse