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Like I mentioned last week, whenever I'm at a bit of a loose end a good way of finding something off the wall to do is to drop a line to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rssefiuroso and ask if he's doing anything interesting. Chances are he'll come back to me with something completely crackers like "I'm off to climb Snowdon in honour of the great god Pan", or something like that and so once I've finished (once again) wondering just what is going on inside his head I go and join in and get another story to tell.
Anyway, after we'd made the sun some up last week he wandered over to me and asked what I was doing the next day.
"Why?", I asked, with understandable caution.
"Because I'm going to pretend to be a viking. Want to come along?"
"A bit of gaming? Maybe. What system?"
"No, an actual viking. I'm going to put on armour and hit people with a sword."
"A real sword?"
"A real sword."
"In real life?"
"In real life."
"Just let me get this straight. You're going to put on actual armour and hit people with a real sword. Not a rubber, LARP sword. A real one."
"Yes. The swords and axes are blunt, but they're still real. Injuries can happen. Want to come?"
"What sort of stupid question is that? Of course I do."
I mean, I've done a certain amount of hitting people with rubber swords in my time, but I have to admit I've always rather fancied myself.
Sorry, what I meant to say there is that I've always rather fancied myself as a Viking, standing on the prow of my longship, pillaging monsteries and carrying off a half dozen or so busty wenches to be ravished at my leisure later, and so it was I found myself standing in a field with a bunch of large, beardy types the next day with a shield and helmet, being taught the basics of swordplay. I've done some Tai Chi swordwork and hoped that might stand me in good stead, but quickly learned that tracing the point of my blade into intricate octagonal patterns to centre my chi just got me bopped pretty firmly by my opponent so I actually paid attention to what was going on for once.
Instruction was, to put it mildly, simple. You see, the basics of swordplay involve trying to hit your opponent with your sword whilst stopping them hitting you with theirs and even I can follow that. There's not much more to it and once you've grasped the principle of "Put your shield in the way of their sword" you're pretty much good to go and so go I did. Dropped into the deep end, I can confirm it's an unnerving experience to be charged by a viking when you're still a bit unsure whether you should be holding the shiny end of your sword or not.
The thing was, after a slowish start, I really got into it. One of the rules of Viking re-enactment is that you aren't allowed to hit people in the head with your sword or axe. It's a good rule; those are real swords and axes, and real heads. Bad things can apparently happen when the two connect so it's body-blows only and after years and years of martial arts in which everyone is trying to belt you in the head, going into a fight where you know that's not going to happen is tremendously liberating.
My big weakness in kickboxing is that I've got what's technically known as a glass nose. Pop me one in the face and I'll bleed, and this happens quite often. The gentlest tap to my schnozz and claret squirts all over the shop in an exciting and carpet-ruining fashion, and having the knowledge I wasn't going to have to pay for any blood stain devils after the event gave me huge confidence. I gamely thrust, parried, hacked and shield-charged people without too many thoughts to the consequences, and despite the fact that I lost probably 75% of my fights, the fact that I won some - including one two-on-one fight where I took out both my opponents - gave an massive adrenaline buzz. After a while I tried biting the edge of my shield and making my vision go red but I was told to stop that or there'd be trouble.
One training technique used is the gauntlet. In this everyone else in the group (about twelve people in all) stands in two lines and you have to run between them, defending yourself from their attacks with sword and shield with the objective being to make it to the other end without having been hit and (metaphorically speaking) filleted like a kipper. Anyway, at risk of sounding immodest, not only was I the only person to make it through the gauntlet - but I made it through first try. I felt totally Nordic.
So, yeah. Vikings. Just call me David Bloodaxe. If any busty wenches want to volunteer for a future carrying off and ravishing, drop me a line where the She-David won't see or she'll belt me round the head with a frying pan again. Sadly, I still don't have any defense against that one.
rssefiuroso and ask if he's doing anything interesting. Chances are he'll come back to me with something completely crackers like "I'm off to climb Snowdon in honour of the great god Pan", or something like that and so once I've finished (once again) wondering just what is going on inside his head I go and join in and get another story to tell.Anyway, after we'd made the sun some up last week he wandered over to me and asked what I was doing the next day.
"Why?", I asked, with understandable caution.
"Because I'm going to pretend to be a viking. Want to come along?"
"A bit of gaming? Maybe. What system?"
"No, an actual viking. I'm going to put on armour and hit people with a sword."
"A real sword?"
"A real sword."
"In real life?"
"In real life."
"Just let me get this straight. You're going to put on actual armour and hit people with a real sword. Not a rubber, LARP sword. A real one."
"Yes. The swords and axes are blunt, but they're still real. Injuries can happen. Want to come?"
"What sort of stupid question is that? Of course I do."
I mean, I've done a certain amount of hitting people with rubber swords in my time, but I have to admit I've always rather fancied myself.
Sorry, what I meant to say there is that I've always rather fancied myself as a Viking, standing on the prow of my longship, pillaging monsteries and carrying off a half dozen or so busty wenches to be ravished at my leisure later, and so it was I found myself standing in a field with a bunch of large, beardy types the next day with a shield and helmet, being taught the basics of swordplay. I've done some Tai Chi swordwork and hoped that might stand me in good stead, but quickly learned that tracing the point of my blade into intricate octagonal patterns to centre my chi just got me bopped pretty firmly by my opponent so I actually paid attention to what was going on for once.
Instruction was, to put it mildly, simple. You see, the basics of swordplay involve trying to hit your opponent with your sword whilst stopping them hitting you with theirs and even I can follow that. There's not much more to it and once you've grasped the principle of "Put your shield in the way of their sword" you're pretty much good to go and so go I did. Dropped into the deep end, I can confirm it's an unnerving experience to be charged by a viking when you're still a bit unsure whether you should be holding the shiny end of your sword or not.
The thing was, after a slowish start, I really got into it. One of the rules of Viking re-enactment is that you aren't allowed to hit people in the head with your sword or axe. It's a good rule; those are real swords and axes, and real heads. Bad things can apparently happen when the two connect so it's body-blows only and after years and years of martial arts in which everyone is trying to belt you in the head, going into a fight where you know that's not going to happen is tremendously liberating.
My big weakness in kickboxing is that I've got what's technically known as a glass nose. Pop me one in the face and I'll bleed, and this happens quite often. The gentlest tap to my schnozz and claret squirts all over the shop in an exciting and carpet-ruining fashion, and having the knowledge I wasn't going to have to pay for any blood stain devils after the event gave me huge confidence. I gamely thrust, parried, hacked and shield-charged people without too many thoughts to the consequences, and despite the fact that I lost probably 75% of my fights, the fact that I won some - including one two-on-one fight where I took out both my opponents - gave an massive adrenaline buzz. After a while I tried biting the edge of my shield and making my vision go red but I was told to stop that or there'd be trouble.
One training technique used is the gauntlet. In this everyone else in the group (about twelve people in all) stands in two lines and you have to run between them, defending yourself from their attacks with sword and shield with the objective being to make it to the other end without having been hit and (metaphorically speaking) filleted like a kipper. Anyway, at risk of sounding immodest, not only was I the only person to make it through the gauntlet - but I made it through first try. I felt totally Nordic.
So, yeah. Vikings. Just call me David Bloodaxe. If any busty wenches want to volunteer for a future carrying off and ravishing, drop me a line where the She-David won't see or she'll belt me round the head with a frying pan again. Sadly, I still don't have any defense against that one.
