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Re: A story! A story!

My lady Ianthe, I, Michael Limner will attempt to answer your request for a
story with a true tale of Pennsic.

Two years ago, when Earl Cuen sat upon the throne I was camped with the
Barony of Lochmere and the House of Alfread of Cres (to whom I was squired at
that time).  It so happened that Earl Dafydd ap Gwystl clamed the space
behind my tent and since he proclamed his great hall to be open to all
visitors, I spent a great deal of my time there, passing the events of the
day with him, Countess Elizabeth and Lady Bronwynn.

(excuse me for a moment...  Psst, Wynn!  I see you trying to sneak away!  Get
back here!)

Where was I?

Oh yes, it so happened one afternoon that a most horrid sight was commented

A suit of armor had been placed on display in a camp across the road.  A suit
that was most painfull to look at.  It wasn't the fact the armor was formed
of plastic, you see.  It was the colors: day glo yellow, international
orange, lurid green ... purple, it was enough to make a man swear off drink.
Worse yet, was the fact that the armor was of the style common to the late
15th century and each individual *plate* was a different color.  Each
segement of a pauldron, or elbow, or polyen was a differnt shade of
flourescent plastic.  To make matters worse, this... *thing* was flanked by
two plastic lawn flamingos.

Now, Wynn and I made several comments about this armor, such as why would one
wear it, why would one display it and most important, why would one *make*
it!  We considered and discarded several plans of action to remove the suit,
but being honorable folk didn't follow thorugh with any.  

At last, we pointed the suit out to Dafydd.  Later, after helping him back to
his 'Great Hall' (such things are almost terminal to view for the great and
wonderous Vainglory), he gave us the tale of the great 'El Pinko', who
several years ago shot two flamingos of Duke Olaf's. 

Insiried by this tale of  brav... er, hono...er, daring, we commented that it
would a most wonderous jest to see the return of 'El Pinko' and perhaps imbed
a few crossbow bolts into the breastplate of the aforementioned suit of armor
(actually we considered ways to attach broken arrows with glue, wishing only
to inspire laughter, not anger).  But, as the suit was in the middle of
another camp, getting to it proved to be a difficult problem.

But, all was not lost, for several roads over, past the food court, it was
discovered that another camp had built themselves a moat and populated this
moat with goldfish and yes, plastic lawn flamingos.

Now, allow me to divirge from my tale for a moment to point out that it can
get *very* hot at Pennsic.  I don't know if the builders of the moat knew
this, for they had lined this moat with black plastic and as we all know,
black absorbes heat...   The poor goldfish were literly being boiled alive in
their little pool...

So, as it happened a plan was put into effect, Dafydd would look up 'El
Pinko' and ask him to do the job, while the rest of us would prepare several
crossbow bolts to be used for the express purpose of falmingo hunting.
 Alfgar and Reynard of Lochmere were more than willing to supply paint and
arrows and so, two arrows were prepared.  Black shaft, pink flights and a
small flamingo was painted on the shaft (with a small 'x' were the eye should

Finally, night fell and 'El Pinko' arrived, dressed in black cloak, boots,
mask and hat with a long pink feather (flamingo of course).  Needing
volunteers to aid him in this mantter, Wynn and I were quickly pressed into
service (and named Jawa 1 and Jawa 2 to hide our identities).  This prompted
me to tell her excellency, Diedre of Cres, quote: 'I'm off not getting into
trouble'.  Upon being asked what that meant, I answered 'If I told you, then
you couldn't deny knowledge'  at which point Diedre stated 'I don't want to

And thus with appropriate fanfare, we skulked off (clad in heavy cloaks even
though it was ... what? 80 degrees).  Unfourtunetly, Jawa 1 and Jawa 2 seemed
to suffer a total lack any sense of direction and led 'El Pinko' around in
circles, prompting him to opinion that perhaps he should get some new ones
(which of course did nothing to improve our ability to walk a straight line).
 But eventually, we found the flamingos and 'El Pinko' revealed his 'cunning
plan that would not fail'... (right).

'El Pinko' placed his two Jawas along the road to watch for travelers and
singnal when the coast was clear.  

'El Pinko':  'Wave the right side of your cloak if it's clear, the left side
it it's not and wave both halfs and dance around in a circle if the plan ends
up all bolluxed up'
Jawas 1 & 2: "Uhhhh... right.'

Of course the plan failed...

'El Pinko (to Jawa 1 & 2, as well as Alfgar, who had wandered by)': 'That
plan wasn't complicated enough, let's try another.'

And so, 'El Pinko' placed his witless minions and attempted the make off with
a flamingo.  This time he succedded (although he was herd to exclame 'This
damn bird is pissing down my boot'). and the flamingo was brought back to
camp to sumarily dispatched.   Which is easier siad then done, by the way,
for pink plastic lawn falmingos are verytough and tenacious beasts.  
The initial shot bounced off the creatures hide, but we managed to wreastle
the beast to the ground and eventually succedded in putting an bolt almost
all the way through.  
Victory was ours.

But now, came the hard part of our plan... putting it back...

Returning the flamingo was a most simple matter (at least for us flunkies,
'El Pinko' soon discovered that it's very hard to convence a dead flamingo to
stand upright).

Having carried out our (wait for it...) foul deed, we returned to camp,
celebrating our daring, cunning and bravery (for flamingos are most dangerous
when wounded).

As a final note, the next day was the gathering of all the kingdom's armies,
to announce the start of the War.  And it so happened that the Kingdom of
Atlantia's path to march to the field took us right beside the camp where we
had disposed of a flamingo the night before and a most amazing  sight greeted
these proud warriors - a pink plastic flamingo, laying on it's side and shot
clean through with an arrow.  Atlantia's mirth was most evident.

Thank you

Michael Limner, esq.