Highlights of Raglan

 I'm falling behind in my posting - there's so much that has occurred to me, that I think, geez, I should post that, that would be cool, and then I don't have the time or energy to spare for it. 
For the moment, here are the highlights of Raglan: hopefully, possibly, more to come. 
The very short version (in case you're sick of people rambling on about Raglan!) is: glorious - splendid - smooth - very satisfying to be part of.

Slightly longer version:
- journey with nusbacher  was in easy stages (collecting kit from S. London, packing, stopover in Swindon, shopping).

- Setup went smoothly on arrival, and we descended on the local chippie for dinner. Next year we'll notify the fish n chip shop of our dates, so that if 50 hungry SCA folk who have been putting up encampments for four hours all decide on fast food for dinner, they don't get run out of chips just before the weekend.

- seeing the splendid organised gate setup: chalkboards, registration packs, tokens, all lovingly lined up by Gwenllian and Sarah and Eleanor.

- setting up our new bed canopy (hopefully some organised soul has recorded it for posterity, because I don't think we bothered) over the bed. It's not perfect (only pinned in place around the frame) and one curtain is too long, and I still want to add some fringe - but it made our space look soooo swanky. It's brilliant, AND it provides a dark sleeping space - no more waking at 5am!

- Once more camping and dining with the 'foodies', including edith_hedingham , jpgsawyer  (head cook and menu planner), Master Paul, Anne of Wokyngham, and adding Master Floris, Mistress Hannah, nz_bookwyrm , nusbacher , and aryanhwy and her beloved, Joel, for dinner companions.

Thomas and the cooks fed 24 at Saturday dinner, which was a bit mad, and a trifle squeezed at the table! even after nicking all of Sir Vitus' available trestle tables and benches (he and his family were away this year). One of my plans is to finish the other bench-box for next Raglan - we clearly need more seats for the number of people who want to hang out in the encampment.

- Seeing and hearing the musicians better prepared for this year's ball, and practicing together. We did a test, and determined that Master Sigmundr could not, in fact, hear the high-pitched instruments that gave him such grief if they were used in the pantry/servery of the castle, so practicing there while he was on site proved to be the happy solution for all.

I got less dancing in than I'd hoped, because the ball started rather late, and people were wanting access to the gate.

However, the gate-access arrangment (taking turns holding the shire phone and opening the gate for those who ring for access over the evening) worked reasonably smoothly for *almost* everyone, and proved to be an easy spot of volunteering for those who couldn't commit elsewhere.

- Seeing our new-fangled ideas tried out and tested in practice.

Because of the large site, in previous years there had been complaints about communications - changes to schedules were not cried consistently, people missed announcements. This year we had a printed schedule, with two large chalkboards listing *changes* only - this made it the attendees' responsibility to keep track of their own schedule.

We also tried having a herald cry the hours in about 2 hour intervals. This needs refinement (ie. more volunteers to be done more consistently over the event) but it was well worth trying, and I think it can work.

The other big innovation was the day steward: taking turns being the person responsible for answering questions and solving problems, to allow the other staff a chance to do fun stuff at Raglan.

- The tavern was a hit: I didn't think you could sufficiently light the underground kitchen in the castle, but goncalves was successful and it was a wonderful atmospheric space for risking your wealth and reputation at the table with Master Etienne. The only drawback was that the steep stairs put off some folks who had trouble descending; they are quite steep. Etienne pointed out that they successfully kept Lord Merlin out of the tavern thus ensuring everyone went home at least with their shirts, if not their escudos (apparently Merlin scalps the other Irish regularly at cards).


- Seeing the huge range of classes on offer. Honestly, Raglan hosted more classes than some University events have held, from fighting and fencing to dance, embroidery, cooking and fibre arts. It was really impressive, and whipped into astonishing shape by pogbody , Jahanara, and maredudd1066 .

- Seeing the fibre theme for classes (in honour of her Majesty, who is a fibre and textiles fan) be so popular. I mean, I thought it was clever, but I was charmed to be credited for it. The Saturday was full of happy spinners, weavers, dyers, and braiders, with ladies lining up days full of fibre-y learning goodness.

- Spending a (relatively!) quiet couple of hours in the scriptorium and taking a class about early modern English language and texts for scrolls from Lady Arianrhod, the PhD historian (not to be confused with aryanhwy , the PhD logician). It was small but attentive, and Ari had even prepared medieval spelling flashcards, which were a fun challenge. 
I say relatively quiet because the scribes room was immediately next to the gateway, which was busy being stormed, twice, by happy noisy fighters.

- Seeing the willingness of people to pitch in: I think the pre-event reminders to help out did 'prime' people to be ready to help when asked. We have to be better prepared to take advantage of offers of help, rather than let them drift off, but I was really encouraged by the tone of can-do, will-do helpfulness across the event, and especially with breakdown and cleanup at the end.

Both goncalves  and I found ourselves waiting for disaster - unplanned surprises, last-minute things that needed doing - but we both found ourselves twiddling thumbs by times; having most of the activities organised and delegated to others meant our day duties were relatively light. We didn't exactly relax (that may come with practice!) but taking turns did allow us designated free time to not think about the event.

I think overall the atmosphere was more relaxed than in past years; several people used the word 'relaxed' to describe their experience.

I think this is down to both attendees knowing what to expect after a few years of attending; and also down to the staff being prepared, organised and sufficiently delegated that they weren't too stretched to run activities successfully.

Being steward is tiring (I find being 'on' tiring generally, and try to allow myself a day post-event to recover), but deeply satisfying; I really enjoyed being part of the team, and still have ideas about improving the organisation further.

Fighting at Raglan - another summary

 Another highlights post, this time about the fighting - mostly because my sweetie was organising it.
The fighting schedule went very well this year, driven by Robert's passion for tourneys. (The fencing schedule went a bit wobbly, but that is someone else's story to tell.)

The Fat Guys Beer Pit hosted by Mssrs Paul and Floris was the opener on Friday - an easy starter, with a beer entry fee required, all challenges welcome, and the winner taking away all the resulting beer. This rolled on for a couple of hours, and picked up more participants as the afternoon went on and, unsurprisingly, resulted in a great deal of, well, beer and cheer, it being Master Paul driving it (Floris had only just arrived).

The torchlight tourney was brilliant for the fighters, but lacking the moonlight, was a bit lost on the viewers - the tiki torches kept blowing out. Robert set up four scenarios, where venans had to individually challenge a tenan at four locations - the fountain court, the entrance to the bridge, the bridge itself, defended by the 'black knight' (actually Thomas of Monmouth, in his fabulous new all-black lanceknicht steel kit - he looks like he's stepped out of a painting!), and then the prince of Insulae Draconis at the base of the tower. Lots and lots of fighting, lots of very happy fighters. The prince himself was walking on air he had so much fun.

The Oxford Roll tourney was a melee contest between the shires, with Thamesreach fielding seven fighters: Robert, Thomas of Monmouth, Gillette (orig. from Lochac, reg. at fight practice, at his first event), Mithrash (AEtenveldt, member of Clan Thunder ditto), Katherine of Great Chesterford, Ozbeg (reauthorised!), and Arnaut de Najac.

Note that there were seven fighters, even without the knights - at the whole event, there was just one knight, Sir Liam the prince.

Thomas outshone the lot of them in his new kit and wappenfrock, but between Robert, Arnaut and Katherine there wasn't much to chose from - raging authentic fighting mavins are us!

Pont Alarch also fielded seven fighters, most of them very new (but led by the skilled and crafty Alex of Darlington), and the shires of West Dragonshire and Mynydd Gwyn banded together to create a team of five, so it proved to be a 3-way contest of capture-the-flag (actually a static point, a domed buckler on the ground), a team contest, and grande melee, last man standing. I didn't witness it, but Robert says Thamesreach steamrolled crushed underf won firmly and decisively over the other shires, taking all three points.

Another tourney of the day was the Canterbury tourney, devised by ....can you guess? Where fighters order themselves by precedence, and issue challenges, and take turns taking on all challengers. The point is to do all *your* bouts at once, to push your own endurance (my sweetie is keen on things that improve stamina in fighting).

I think this works out that you end up fighting everyone twice - once to fight in another person's all-comers bouts, and once in your own.

Of course, there was storming the castle, which was run slightly differently this year. The castle battle now has five familiar scenarios: gateway, cobbbled courtyard, hall& servery (through narrow doorways servery openings), fountain courtyard, and finally the bridge to the tower. In previous years, folks chose sides and either attacked or defended through all five scenarios, rested, and then switched sides. But the second round was always shorter, and less enthusiastic, because everyone was wearing down.

This year, Robert tried out doing each scenario twice in a row (ie. Gate: attack, then defend; cobbled court: attack then defend, etc.) to see if folks couldn't better retain their wind and enthusiasm all the way through. I haven't yet asked him if this went better, but by all accounts it remains a firm favourite of everyone's Raglan fighting.

On Sunday Robert marshalled the first Prince's invitational tournament, where his Highness selected those he wished to see participate in a tournament, and Sir William sought out all those who were newest to fighting, or who had the least tourney experience in Drachenwald.

The tournament was a series of challenges, and was limited to one half-hour, to keep people from wearing out. This was a real pleasure to watch: about 10 fighters, with two women included, issued challenges to each other, from '3 good blows' to 'full out for a count of 20'.

It gave many folks who didn't have a lot of fighting background the chance to meet each other on the field. Most new fighters start individually, and everyone else in their practice will be more skilled, so it was wonderful to see novices finding opponents of similar skill level on the field, and having their own victories to be rightly proud of.

The winner was chosen by the contestants themselves, and His highness presented John of Bristol with a prize (a girdle book) and distributed small books with ID 'broidered on the covers, as fighting diaries for each contestant to work with in their training.

The last tourney of the weekend was Robert's birthday tourney, where he invited fighters to strike a good blow on him, to a total count of forty. He wasn't counting, and didn't set anyone to count, but is certain it took many more than 40 bouts to reach his count.

He was happy as a pig in mire: three full days of fighting, and no injuries or serious bruises, just slightly stiff. And the smug, he had it...