Finding the right scarf

We have a fighter up here who is looking to become a cadet. Aside from the opportunity this gives us old farts to rib them, it also leaves us with trying to advise them on who would be a good White Scarf to attach themselves to. I've been keeping my mouth shut so far because I don't see any White Scarf who would be a good teacher for our wannabe cadet. Not because I think so low of our Scarves, but rather because the nearest one is a good three hours away, making any real instruction impractical. Now, in a year or so, when they go off to college in Salt Lake, it'll be a different matter. But for right now, I don't see a good solution for them.

That being said, there are some questions you should when choosing which White Scarf to attach yourself as a cadet to.

The first question is do you respect them? If you don't, you won't take their advice seriously. And there's no point in mentoring yourself to someone you won't listen to.

Second is: are they a good teacher? Teaching - and the ability to teach well - is an entirely different skill set than doing. Just because someone is an excellent fencer does not mean that they can teach fencing. This is one of the areas where I know I fall short of the ideal of ever becoming a White Scarf. I'm really a lousy teacher. I'm grumpy, I'm impatient, and I'm waaaay too opinionated. On top of that, I just don't have the skill to take apart someone's form and critique it the way a true fencing teacher should.

Third is can they teach you what you need to know? Different people have different strengths and weaknesses, so finding someone whose strength is your weakness will offer you more chance for improvement than someone with your same strengths and weaknesses.

Fourth: is their code of honor compatible with yours? They don't have to be the same, but there shouldn't be any glaring differences, like, say they believe that there's nothing wrong with juggling kittens, but you are a firm believer that only hamsters should be juggled. Remember that as their cadet, not only does your honor reflect on them, but their honor reflects on you.

Fifth and sixth: do they have the time to teach you and do you have the time to be taught? Just like with someone you don't respect, it's pointless to attach yourself to a White Scarf you'll never get to spend time with. This is why I don't recommend choosing a White Scarf that lives more than a couple hours away: the travel time just makes the relationship too difficult to maintain.

And finally: are they who you want to be? Look at your prospective White Scarf. Are they someone you want to be like, both on and off the field? Of course, we want to be the best we can be on the field, but that's only part of being a White Scarf. You need to find someone who's not only good on the field, but who's also good off the field. Someone who lives up to your idea of the dream, no matter what your dream is. If you enjoy service, look for that White Scarf who's a shoe-in for Pelican. If the arts are more your style, find the one that made their own garb. Or if bardic's your thing, find the White Scarf who's always singing around the campfire.

Now if you're strictly a stick-jock like myself, forget it. Part of becoming a White Scarf is showing skill in the arts and sciences as well as a tendency towards service. So for those of us who's primary interest in the Society is fencing, we're SOL until and unless we find some other aspect of the SCA that draws our attention in addition to the sword.

The only of these questions that is really make-or-break is that of honor. You can get by if you answered no to one or two of the others, but the more questions you answered yes to, the better.

Yield

I had an interesting conversation with another fencer at fighter's practice this last weekend. I was standing back, observing while he fought and his opponent managed to take both of his arms. She asked if he wanted to yield and he said no. That's when I roused from my slumber - I mean observation - and asked, "Are you sure about that?" Whether to yield or accept a quick death is generally considered a personal decision, and I suppose it is. But it's a decision that can have ramifications that aren't immediately obvious.

For fans of the modern-day action hero, the idea of yielding or surrendering is unthinkable. As Winston Churchill said, "... whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender." But you have to remember, he was talking about a war, not a tournament. I know, I know. If you surrender once, it makes it easier to surrender the next time. But we're not talking about just sticking up our hands and saying "I give" when faced with an opponent, we're talking about having lost all ability to carry on the fight for one second more. That is what yielding in a tournament is: the recognition of your inability to defeat your opponent.

So what, you say. No quarter given, none received is the way you fight. Fair enough. You're a mean mother, and everyone can see that. But think about this: by refusing to yield, you are forcing you opponent to kill an unarmed opponent. Now I know there are all sorts of different codes of honor, but I'm pretty sure most of them do not say that killing the helpless is a Good Thing.

Of course, you have to assume their honor can handle the necessity of doing something dishonorable. Either that, or they have so little honor that it doesn't matter to them (of course, there isn't anyone who has so little honor in the SCA, so we can throw that notion out). There's only one problem with that. There are individuals for whom their sense of honor is so strong that they absolutely refuse to go against it. And unlike the dishonorable fencer, these do exist. You'll see them every once in a while a tourneys. They're the ones who give their opponent back an arm after they've been double-armed. There was even one who, faced with an opponent who would not yield, yielded himself, giving the bout to his unarmed opponent. Let me tell you: that caused a bit of a stir.

So now you're thinking, either they'll go ahead and kill you, or they'll give you back your arm and you might kill them, or else they'll yield and you'll win, which leaves you about a 50-50 chance of winning, even though you can't fight any more. Those sound like pretty good odds, except for one thing. To get those odds, you have to play on your opponent's honor. If they kill you, both of you will lose at least some honor. If they give you back your arm, then they gain honor, but you still don't. And if they yield to you, they gain a tremendous amount of honor - we're talking on-the-spot recognition and free beer for the rest of the event - and you're left standing there with your honor being questioned by all who witnessed it. Whereas, if you yield, they don't get that instant boost to honor and even if your honor isn't increased, you get recognized for having the common sense to admit when you're defeated. So I suppose it comes down to a question of what's more important to you: winning or your honor.

Now like I said, it's a personal choice whether to ask the quick death from or yield to your most worthy opponent, but I'd bet you can guess where I come in on the argument.

In case of emergency...

In an ideal world, armor inspections are that brief moment before you fight when the marshals comment on how wonderful your equipment is, but in reality, armor inspection is when you discover your tip is shot or yes, you really did leave your gear out in the rain. These discoveries often leave fencers scrambling around, looking for the stuff to fix their problems. The answer to this problem (other than actually going over all of your gear before hand) is to have an emergency kit.

These don't have to be very large. In fact, all you really need is three items:

1. Spare tips. You need at least one, but I recommend one for each of your blades, plus one to share.


2. Scotch pad - for cleaning surface rust from your blades. Again, you need one, but it doesn't hurt to have a spare to loan out.


3. Tape. Remember: whatever type of tape you use, it must contrast with both the blade and the tip, so silver and black tapes are out. Which means that your basic duct tape and electrical tape are out, unless you get different colors. I recommend white athletic tape. It's durable but rips easily and is visible enough for use in torchlight tournaments.

Those are the basics, but some other items that would be a good idea are: a multi-tool (always a good thing to have),a set of needle files, and duct tape (if it's not part of your basic kit).

These simple items will fix just about any problem you'll encounter on the field. Of course, if you want to go overboard, you can throw in spare blades, spare guards, handles, pommel weights, etc. but those are probably just as easily left back at camp.

In the Mix

Anyone who's been around fencing for any length of time has heard someone ask, "What's the best off-hand weapon?" And everyone has their own opinion about what that is. Looking back at Estrella, and the weapons on the field there, the hands-down winner was case, followed by dagger, then buckler.

The reality of the situation is that weapon choice usually comes down to personal preference. To put it simply: people are going to use what they're comfortable with. Unfortunately, personal preferences play only a minor part in determining the best mix for the melee field. And it really should be a mix, too. Every weapon style has its advantages and disadvantages: it's only through mixing the styles that you can get the most out of the three styles.

Bucklers are your linemen. They don't pack much of a punch, but they can hold the line like nobody's business. Casers are the exact opposite. They're your heavy-hitters, capable (in theory, at least) of attacking multiple targets at the same time, but seriously lacking in the defensive department. Your daggers are your all-purpose fighters. They've got better offense than bucklers, and better defense than casers, but their defense isn't as good as buckers and they can't match the casers for offense.

So now that we know their strengths and weaknesses, what do we do about them? Well, the obvious answer is to match each person's strengths and weaknesses so that they complement someone else's. In other words, pair a buckler with a caser the same way armored fighters pair a shield man with a spear man. The buckler's in charge of defense while the caser is in charge of killing things. Unfortunately, this means the middle-of-the-road daggers are on their own, but that's okay. We can work with that.

The next step is to build our formation, using the sets we've made. Most formations are made up of a line, reserves, and cowboys. Generally speaking, the only thing that effects the set-up of the line and the reserves is whether you're on offense or defense. If you're on offense, give both the line and reserves an equal mix of bucklers and casers. But, if you're looking purely at defense, make your entire line bucklers while your casers are the reserves. But no matter the situation, cowboys are the easy part to figure out. They're the guys who are going to be acting independently anyway, so why don't we use the guys who are on their own, anyway: the daggers.

As for actual numbers, you want one buckler for each caser and enough between the two of them to fill your line and reserves, with any extras as daggers. A good, generic formula is 40% bucklers, 40% casers and 10% daggers. This isn't a hard-and-fast mix, and may need tweaking, depending on the situation, but it makes a good starting point.

Waaaay off-topic

I know I've been slacking this week, but I've been TDY and switching back and forth from soldier to SCAdian has been tougher than I can manage.

So, anyway, we got some downtime today, so a bunch of us went to the Norman Rockwell Museum. It was great. In addition to 133 original Saturday Evening Post covers, they had probably twenty or thirty of his original paintings. Now, if you're like me, you're familiar with his covers. His covers are good, but you have to remember that they're copies of his original paintings. The originals just blow away the covers. My overall favorite was definitely his Main Street in Stockbridge. Oh my God! Looking at the original, it has so much depth! I had to get as close as I could to it and look at it from the side to convince myself it wasn't really 3-D. I mean, my God!

My favorite of his covers was one of his war ones. I don't know the name of it, and I can't find a copy of it online, but it was of a wife, standing in a dimly lit bedroom, wrapped in her husband's service coat. Norman Rockwell might be best known for his humorous paintings, but you can look at the painting and just know everything going through the poor woman's head. I have to admit that I had to turn away almost immediately when I saw it. Even now, six hours later, I have trouble just thinking about the picture. Let me tell you, it's right up there with the songs American Soldier and Letters From Home. If I ever find a copy, I'm getting it.

But enough depressing myself. The other reason I was excited about going to the museum was were it is. It's in Stockbridge, MA. In the words of Arlo Guthrie, "...the town of Stockbridge, Massachusetts... they got three stop signs, two police officers, and one police car..." Yep. That's right, Stockbridge was the setting for that great protest song, "Alice's Restaraunt Massacre." And other than being part of the Berkshires, it was still the way he described it (although I'm not sure if they still close the dump on Thanksgiving).

Okay, so I'm weird. So sue me.

The Trinity of Action

With Uprising on the horizon, I thought I'd talk a little bit about melees. Try to get us in the mood, as it were.

In the modern army, there is a standard doctrine for when you are ambushed. When you first come under fire, you should do three things: move shoot and communicate. Once you've done these three things, you can try and figure out tactically what should be done. A while back, I was thinking about that, and how (or if) it applies on the melee field. And you know what, even though ambushes are rare in the SCA, the general principle still works. After all, an enemy trying to roll your flank is does have its similarities to an ambush.

The first part is to move. When that hot-shot team comes barreling in, trying to roll the flank, don't just stand there and let them, move to engage them. Yes, they'll be expecting it, but it still forces them to react, instead of merely acting. And it allows you at least some say on the ground you fight over. Nine times out of ten, flankers will slow down considerably when you move to intercept them.

Since the majority of us don't go onto the field with rifles, we can't literally shoot, but that doesn't mean we can't throw shots. As you rush over to defend that flank they're trying to roll, throw shots at them. Don't go for the kill, just attack. At least for the first thrity seconds of the engagement. The modern equivalent is suppressive fire: throwing bullets at the enemy so they'll duck. When you start throwing shots, those flankers you slowed by merely standing in their way will stop dead in their tracks, buying you (and more importantly, your commander) time. Once you've stopped them in their tracks, then you can start getting fancy and going for the kills.

So far so good. By simply moving to intercept and throwing a few shots, you've stopped the advance of their flankers. Now comes the most important part: communicate. Now, even though it comes last in the trinity of action, you should be doing it all along. When you first spot the flankers, sound off. Yell something like, "Flankers left!" which, of course, you follow up with, "Moving to engage left!" and "Engaging left!" and the oh-so-important "Dead!" if the unfortunate happens. And don't be afraid to use your outside voice. If your commanders can't hear you, they can't send reinforcements.

Like any set of rules, the Trinity of Action has its exceptions. If you're not on the flank being rolled, don't pull out of the line to intercept them without orders, just sound off and know someone will deal with them. Likewise, if your orders include the phrase, "at any cost" but aren't to "defend the flank" or "keep them from getting through" then sound off and drive on. You'll notice that, even if you can't move or shoot, you should still communicate. I can think of only one time when you shouldn't communicate, and that's when you're trying to sneak up on the enemy. Other than that sound off.

I know it's all pretty basic stuff, but it is the heart of melee: Move, Shoot, and Communicate.

Households

It's hard to go to an event - especially a camping event - without being aware of the various households in the SCA. Whether it's House of York, The Brotherhood, or Rolling Thunder, event sites are filled with the mini communities we call households.

But what are households? Households are simply groups of like-minded individuals who choose to associate with each other. They are most visible at events as either encampments or units on the battlefield.

Why do people join households? Generally for one of two reasons: politics or camaraderie. In other words, they either see something to gain from joining the household or they simply like the people envolved. An example of a political household is the old Blackwing Company. While I'm sure they weren't started as trying to be the be-all and end-all of the fencing community, it did quickly evolve beyond simply a community of fencers into an organization that gave all appearances to being the deciders in all things rapier.

As for an example of a household of comrades, there are just too many to list (and, I hate to admit it, I'm so lousy with names that I can't remember any). But the one that sticks in my head is William Kyle of the Widerness'. Their main concerns are fighting, feasting and fun.

There are, of course, those households that straddle the two. The Brotherhood of the Black Unicorn is one such household. Their main concern is fighting, followed closely by having fun. But they have, on occasion, pushed for changes on the melee field. In all honesty, though, considering the number of peers and former royalty within the Brotherhood, they have managed to keep a very low profile on the political end, clearly differentiating between household and personal opinions.

There's too many different styles of households to truly define how a household is put together. But they do, in general have one thing in common: a central leader. These heads of household could simply be the guy who's organized enough to set up the camping and feeding and such, or they could be a charismatic leader who draws followers to them like flies, or they could be the one guy who missed the household meeting and got "volunteered" to be the boss. It doesn't matter how they were decided on, really, all that matters is that the members of the household answer to some central character.

So, in a world filled with households, and everyone naturally wanting to be a part of something bigger, why haven't I joined a household? For the record, I have joined two over the many years I've been in the SCA. The first was your basic household of friends that I simply outgrew. They were a mildly active bunch who really didn't get out and play much and, after a while, became inbred to the point where what they were playing wasn't the SCA, but their idea of what the SCA should be, while I continued to exist in the mainstream of the SCA. That would have been bad enough, but they also tried to impose their views on everyone around them, including the shire as a whole. The household eventually withdrew from the SCA, after helping successfully burning out an entire town's worth of SCAdians. Thankfully, I'd withdrawn from the household early on in their grab for power, but as a result of those fights, I'm leery of ever holding office again.

That was the first household I joined. The second was Blackwing. 'Nuff said. Well, maybe not. I was an extremely late comer to Blackwing, not joining until the Northern Garrison was formed, under the command of Albion. It wasn't that I hadn't heard about Blackwing, I'd heard plenty, and not been impressed. Too snooty, too political, or at least that's how they came across. What finally got me to join was Albion: a man of impeccable character who I knew, respected and trusted, asking me directly to join. It was the first time in the existence of the company that someone had taken the time to ask me to join, not just make a general announcement that the Company was looking for members. I stayed with Blackwing until I left in service to King and Country and then, while I was gone, the company was disbanded.

Since my return, I haven't joined any households, though. I have been asked to join a couple, but have turned both offers down. In one, it simply wasn't my cup of tea: a piratical house lead by a gentle who - nice enough though he may be - built the house in an attempt for personal prestige. I'm afraid I just don't do posses. The other offer was made by a gentle that I like and respect, but whose house just didn't appeal to me. No specific reason, it just didn't grab me.

Okay, a big reason I haven't joined any household is that I don't really make a good follower. There's a part of me who sees himself as that great charismatic leader whom everyone should be flocking to follow, not following some schmuck who thinks he's better than me. But I'm enough of a realist to know that I'm not a people person. Okay, that's an understatement. I don't do chit-chat. I don't do bull-sessions. I don't really care who did what, where, or with whom. To put it bluntly, I don't like people. As a result, I tend to do the Lone Ranger bit, keeping to myself and a rather select group of friends. Not a household, no. More a set of alliances.

And I kind of like it that way.

Mask Review

My new mask came last night and it looks like it's as over-built as I was hoping for. The mesh on it is rated at 350N (of course), but the sides and top (the parts covered with leather) are rated at 1400N, so it should handle hacks (sorry, accidental percussive cuts) without a problem. It even has an internal suspension system, to keep me from eating the mask on hard thrusts (okay, I know most masks do nowadays, but my Santelli doesn't, so it's something new for me).

It is larger than my old mask, but I think that's because I actually measured my head to make sure I ordered the right size. I didn't do that with the Santelli, because then it was a matter of just going to the store and buying what they had in stock. That was the great thing about living in Butte. There's a cutlery store there that caters to the SCA and carries all the essentials for the budding fencer, from masks to blades and even the occasional bucker. Most of it's TCA, but if you can show her an item in a catalog, she can get it.

But I digress. Being larger than my old mask, it doesn't fit as snugly, of course, so there is a little more side-to-side wobble. But the thing that is going to take some getting used to is how I put it on. My old mask, I'd put my chin in and then pop it over the top of my head. I can't do that with this new one, without pushing the tang out of adjustment. So, I have to pop the mask on the top of my head and then slide it down over my face. That'll actually make it easier to keep my coif on while armoring up, but it will take a little getting used to.

Masks

Well, I finally did it. I broke down and ordered myself a new fencing mask yesterday. I didn't really need to - my old mask doesn't have any dents in it yet, and it'll still pass a punch-test, no problem - but I managed some extra money and it's a toss-up as to which is older, my mask or my first-born, so I figured now was as good of a time as any.

The hard part was finding one I liked. You see, my old mask (and every mask I've ever owned, except my very first) is a Santelli. You know, raw metal screen with what was once tan leather wrapped around the edges, ugly as sin, and built like a tank. I know of two other fencers off the top of my head with Santellis and mine's the youngest at about eight years old and the oldest is 15 years old and still going strong. Like I said, they last.

Maybe a little too well. You see, while what I want is another Santelli like the one I have, I can't get one, at least not new. Santelli went out of business several years ago (my guess is their profit margin was way too low for the quality they were putting out). And I will not buy a used mask, I went that route with my very first mask, and it's a miracle I never got a blade through the mesh.

Which, like I said, has left me looking for a new mask. The Triplettes aren't too bad, but they just don't call out to me, especially not for $75, same with Blue Gauntlet's stuff. I even checked out the masks for sale at Estrella this year, and they were all meh. The problem is that the majority of fencing masks are designed to take thrusts from epees and whacks from sabers, neither of which come close to the forces we see in the SCA, especially if you do any teaching. That's what I liked about the Santelli: it wasn't designed for tournament use, instead it was designed for club fencing where the odds were good that your opponent wasn't.

It was, basically, a coach's mask.

When I realized that, I changed my search from trying to find a fencing mask to trying to find a coach's mask. That made things a lot easier. After a quick google, I came across Absolute Fencing and their Absolute 3-W Coach Mask w/: Extra Padding, for a whopping seven bucks more than a basic Triplette. I know, it's a bit overkill, but I've seen a catastrophic mask failure (a second-hand mask, as a matter of fact), and it isn't pretty (If the guy'd been hit an inch lower, he would have lost an eye). Besides, I like overkill. I mean, you're talking to a guy with a bulletproof codpiece.

Like I said, I ordered it yesterday, so I won't get it until next Wednesday, but I'm already impressed with Absolute Fencing. My order was processed within an hour of my placing it, and shipped that afternoon. As for the mask, itself, we'll see next week.

I guess that means it's time to look for replacements for my 12-year-old gloves next.

Looking Good

For as long as I can remember, we fencers have tried to separate ourselves from armored fighters, tried to show we are just as good, just as important as they are, just different. Whether we are or not is a discussion for another time, for now, let's just look at the differences in out outward appearances.

That difference can be summed up by what defines each fighter. The armored fighter is defined by his armor. If you see someone on the field in a breast plate, you know he's a heavy. Whereas the fencer is defined by what they fight with. If you see someone on the field carrying a steel sword, you know he's a rapier fighter.

But is the rapier the most important part of a fencer? No. It's not even the most important part of how a fencer looks. Heavy fighters have all sorts of limitations put on how the look: helmet, gorget, elbows, knees, even gauntlets if they don't want to use a basket hilt. Fencers, on the other hand, only have three limits to their appearance: they have to wear a mask or helmet, they have to wear a gorget, and they cannot show any skin. That's it.

So, with almost our entire body to play with, why do we all look alike? Aside from a very few individuals, we're all wearing one of a half-dozen styles. There's the completely modern fencing jacket, that same jacket covered with a tunic, a tunic and jerkin, or a doublet. Of course, some fencers do add their own personal touch with a tabard a-la The Three Musketeers, and then there's all the Jack Sparrow wannabes in their pirate coats and polyester do-rags.

I suppose, all things considered, six styles spread between the hundred and eighty or so fencers in Artemisia isn't too bad. After all, that means that there's only thirty people dressed the same as you, so if you change up your colors a bit, you won't blend in. Here's the thing, though. If you look around, I bet you dollars to doughnuts that everybody's tunic is white and their jerkins are black (except for the bad boys dressed all in black). The pleasant exception to this trend seems to be the doublet wearers. They, at least, have embraced the rainbow. Of course, an awful lot of them do seem to all have the same first name - Don - so it might just be a household thing or something.

I guess what it comes down to is whether you want to disappear into the crowd or stand out among your peers.

Omens, portents and augurs, oh my!

Walking into work this morning, I noticed the mirror that usually hangs by the door was on the ground, shattered. Needless to say, I wasn't overly surprised to discover that five of our six servers were down. Five hours later, and we were back up, but it got me thinking about how superstition plays a role in what we do.

Now I like to think that I'm a relatively realistic, fairly well-grounded type of guy, so of course superstition doesn't play a part in my fencing, does it? Of course not! Sure I've got some things I do every time I fence, but it has nothing to do with superstition. It's all about consistency.

Yeah, that's it! Consistency.

And actually, it is about consistency, at least for me. By doing the same steps in the same order before each bout, I'm attempting to force myself into a consistent state of mind for each fight. Does it work? Maybe a little too well. I am, at best, a mediocre tournament fencer. While I generally give my opponents a good run for their money, the last tournament I actually won was... eight? nine? years ago. Whereas on the melee field (a field barren of ritual, by just about anyone's standard), I am usually heralded by cries of, "Kill that guy!"

It might be that in my trying for consistency, I'm actually putting on my blinders and closing myself from options that I allow myself to see on the melee field. Maybe if I tried taking out some of the ritual from my tournament fighting (do I really need to spin around three times and spit into the wind before each bout?), I might find it is replaced by better flow and better fencing.

What about you? What are your rituals? And what purpose do they serve?

Did I get anything?

At a tournament recently, there was one fighter who caught my attention. Unfortunately, they didn't catch it for the skill of their fighting, or the quality of their finery, instead it was for their ability and propensity to talk. In their first bout, they were struck with a questionable blow, and when their opponent asked about it, the two fighters discussed the hit for a few minutes before deciding to throw it out. Unfortunately, the next pass lead to another questionable shot and another discussion. Again, it was thrown out and again they ended in a questionable shot. After I think five of these passes, the fighter in question finally decided they'd been killed and relinquished the field. Sadly this was not the last bout the fighter had that day that resulted in multiple questionable hits and multiple discussions. This scenario begs the question: what should a fighter do when throwing or being thrown a questionable blow?

So, what is a questionable blow? A questionable blow is any hit that the fighter receiving the blow is unsure about the validity or location of the hit. Some examples are draw cuts where you are unsure whether they were drawn with the edge or flat, light touches, hits to the edge of a target area, or thrusts that get stuck in clothing. While each of these types of questionable hits have their own quirks, they can all be handled in a similar fashion.

The question is: what does it matter? Well, if you're always on the receiving end and either ignore them or argue about whether they're good or not, the problem is one of reputation. There's a good chance if you're the one who's constantly going up against Joe Newby who can't tell the flat from the edge, that you will wind up with a reputation as a rhino-hider. And while it's possible to overcome such a reputation, it is far easier to avoid in the first place. And if you're the one who always seems to come up against Lord Stone the Unfeeling, the danger is one of disillusionment. Your opinion of those you face will begin to change from that of worthy opponents to a bunch of rhino-hiders who should go play heavy. It may even lead to the point where fencing - or even the SCA itself - loses its appeal, which is something none of us want.

Okay, so now that you know what a questionable blow is and how it can affect you, what do you do about it? Well, that depends on where it happens. If you're at a fighter's practice, you handle it differently than you would in a tournament or in melee. Likewise, the person throwing the blow in question will handle it differently than the fighter on the receiving end.

The simplest situation for dealing with questionable blows is at fighter's practice. Since fighter's practices are for training, it isn't unusual for a fight to be interrupted by discussion. So, if you're fighting and either throw or receive a questionable blow, stop and ask your opponent if it was good or not and discuss the issue. If you're both undecided, you can even ask any onlookers for their opinion. Then, when a consensus is reached, keep fighting, but try for cleaner hits.

When you enter melees, things become more complicated because of the increased pace and adrenaline levels. If you throw a questionable blow in a melee, and your opponent doesn't take it, it's best to assume the hit wasn't good, and just try for cleaner hits. If they ask about it, tell them what you think it was, but let them decide if it was good or not. If someone throws a questionable shot at you, don't take it if you think it probably wasn't good, but if you just have no idea, or if your opponent asks about it and you can't say for sure that it wasn't good, take it. This keeps the pace of the battle going and helps alleviate the occasional adrenaline-driven missed shot.

And then there are tournaments. These are usually one-on-one fights like fighter's practices, but they add in adrenaline levels almost as high as a melee and do it all in front of a crowd. And if that wasn't bad enough, tournaments are supposed to showcase the fighter's honor as well as their skill. What's that mean? It means that, whether you like it or not, at least 75% of your reputation as a fighter will come from tournaments. It is also right up there with fighter's practices for the likelihood of questionable hits.

So, what do you do about it? You use something called a graduated response. By this I mean that each time it happens in a bout, you react a little stronger than the previous time. The first time you throw a questionable blow, you throw that shot away: if your opponent asks, you take the shot back, and if they don't, you just assume the shot wasn't good and try for a clean hit. The second time, if they ask, tell them what you think, but let them decide for themselves, and if they don't ask, ask them ("Did I get anything there?"), but take their decision and, again, clean up your fighting. After that, if you think you them you hit them, ask them if the shot was good, and if they don't think so (especially if they say it was too light, or didn't feel right), stop the fight and recalibrate with your opponent. It could very well be that they didn't feel your shot through their fencing jacket and mail shirt. And if the problem continues, yield. By this time, you'll be frustrated - either with yourself or your opponent - and beginning to get tired. It's far better to lose a tournament honorably than to "resort to their level" or crank up the power to deal with a rhino-hider, either of which can get you thrown off the field.

Now I know some of you are saying, "But I wasn't rhino-hiding, he's sloppy as all get-out! All he got me with were slaps, pops and flats." You and I might know that, but the people watching the tournament might not, especially those two in the shiny brass hats, sitting in the fancy chairs and rubbing their chins thoughtfully. Believe me, you do not want them to decide who the winner is. So, if you're fighting someone and they hit you with a shot that's sort of eh, ask them if it was good. Or, if they ask you, go ahead and take it. If they throw another questionable shot that might have been good, but you're not sure, go ahead and take it. But if you're pretty sure it wasn't good, ask them about it, but feel free to argue the point ("It felt flat to me"). The exception is if they keep throwing really light shots. If they do, stop the bout and recalibrate. Maybe that extra layer of fur you added to your tunic is making it harder for you to feel the shots. And if that doesn't do it, go ahead and take the shots, sloppy or not. After the tournament's over, you can go ahead and discuss things with them and, hopefully work things out for the future.

I've talked about what to do about questionable hits, but not how to avoid them in the first place. While it is impossible to truly do away with questionable hits, the best way to avoid them is to fight clean. I know, I know, I said that already. But what is clean fighting? Clean fighting is hitting your opponent where you want with absolutely no question about whether it was good or not. This means drills and practice. I'm sorry, but there just isn't any other way. And if you're already a clean fighter and an opponent still calls your stuff iffy (when they call it at all), just remember: mask or cup. I don't care who they are, if they get hit in either the mask or the cup, they will call it. One last note: With both melee and tournament fighting, I've talked about calling shots light. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as a light hit in rapier! Rapier is a touch weapon, so if you felt it, it was good.

So, as you stand there, facing Lord Stone the Unfeeling, just remember that a shot between the eyes works every time, and if it's Joe Newby you face, you were a beginner once, so give him credit for what he's trying to do.

Hello World

Yes, I have finally taken the plunge and entered the blogosphere. As anyone who knows me knows, I'm not without opinions, the trouble for me blogging has always been one of what to focus my opinions on. So what is it that I have decided to focus my ranting on? Fencing, as done in The Society for Creative Anachronisms.



I know, I know: ho hum. But for the three or four of you who are still reading, you're probably wondering what I actually know about rapier fighting, so here you go: I began in the S.C.A. in 1989 in the Kingdom of Atenveldt. In 1991, I began fencing Olympic foil and epee. By 1993, I was transitioning over to the relatively new (to us, at least) style of SCA fencing and was authorized in 1994. Since then, I have lived in a few different kingdoms before finally settling down in Artemisia. Unfortunately, that same travelling hasn't allowed me to stay in any one kingdom long enough to achieve any official recognition for my skills. Not that I'm complaining (too much). If I was in this for the awards, I would have given up long before now. No, if my fifteen years of fencing shows anything, it's that I fence because I enjoy it.