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PLEASE READ THIS....a true story....




Poster: "alison rhodes" <arrow@hickory.net>

Greetings fellow Merry Rose-rs,

this happened a couple of weeks ago and I wanted this story to be known to
the SCA public as a reminder of what we should NOT do.   If you have any
comments please feel free to contact me directly for I am not on the Merry
Rose. This did not happen to me but in front of my eyes, to a newcomer at
her first event. What an example we have set! Please read this!

> A true story...
> 
> 	Once upon a time in a land not that far away I had attended my first
> SCA event.  After unpacking & settling into garb the night's festivities
had
> begun.  The drums & lights drew a handful of folk to our cabin.  There
was
> drink, music, & dancing.  A young fighter was among the merriment and
with a
> passing of a cloven fruit it was clear that he had eyes for me.  The
attempt
> to win my favors & impress me is where the story really begins...  
> 
> It was apparent that our young fighter had his fair share of drink.  I
was
> sitting on the porch of the cabin while our young fighter stood in front
of
> me.  While every one around were laughing & dancing, he had removed his
hand
> axe from his belt.  Thinking nothing of it, I continued with my
merriment.
> At this time our young fighter had decied to be to land his axe into the
> cabin wall above me.  Being the axe was dull (thank the goddess) it
> ricocheted off the wall landing in my brow!  At first being unsure of
what I
> had been struck with, thought "Oh Great!" but after placing my fingers
into
> my hair to discover blood I thought "You bastard!"  Then my thoughts
turned
> to panic when what seemed to be a river of blood flowed down my face to
the
> floor beside me.  Alas, I wish I could have done more than shrill "Oh
god!
> I'm bleeding".  With the face of Lady Allison gone pale, all festivities
> came to a chilling stop.  Luckily we had an EMT among us & looked after
me.
> But the story does not quite end there...  After the hysterics & with a
> compress to stop the bleeding, once again I sat on the steps of the
porch.
> Our young fighter came to apologize, he does not hug me, does not place
his
> head on my shoulder or in my lap... instead he drops to his knees, puts
his
> arms around my waist, pledges he fealty to me for life & promptly places
his
> face dead into my cleavage coping a cheap feel.  Now I will have the scar
&
> this story forever, not to mention my angels receive hazard pay but there
> are lessons to be learned from my tale 1. Do not pull live steal off the
> battlefield, sober or intoxicated, they are not toys!  And B.  An axe to
the
> head is no way to win the affections of a maiden! 
> 

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