abendgules | Niebelungen kreig

Over the July 1st weekend, Robert and I attended Niebelungen Krieg, an event held at a campground adjoining a castle in Germany, S. of Cologne.

We started in Reading, catching a bus direct to Heathrow. flew to Cologne w/ clothes, Robert's armour, and sleeping bags and thermarests - thankfully not needing a tent. (We used the communal crash space pavilion provided at the site.)

From Cologne we took two trains to the nearest station to the site, and cabbed (15 Euros) to the site, arriving late afternoon, in a steady rain. This kind of trip of multiple stages is normal in Drachenwald; we were counting ourselves lucky at having Wednesday off, so we could pack and fly at leisure, instead of rushing to the airport after work.

Thursday was drier, and quite warm. The fighting started with the matched weapons tourney, sponsored by the company of Chapeau de Fer - a group of like-minded fighters who want to promote authentic armour and fighting styles, particularly closed-face helms.

My lord Robert was their main visible promoter at this event, and he took on as many people as possible with long weapons. Vitus Polonius had sent along his matched war hammers, which packed a serious wallop, and Eorl Giles brought his matched great axes. Everyone I saw who tried the long weapons enjoyed them immensely, though there were fewer folks authorized in long weapons than I expected.

The Rose tourney was pushed back to the evening, to the relief of the fighters who put a lot of work into the daytime fighting - it was a welcome break, but getting back into armour at nightfall was clearly uphill work. My lord once more threw his whole heart into the fighting, in particular meeting Sir Gerhardt on the field for two timed bouts with great weapons. It was the only rose he won for me that evening, but what a terrific way to wrap up the evening. Sir Gerhardt, in turn, was celebrating his engagement to his lady Judith - announcing it on the field to great cheers.

Friday we woke to rain - lots of it. Anyone who had left kit outside was crawling into soggy gambesons and boots. One drawback of the site was a lack of communal space. The site appears to be a camping venue, very well equipped with kitchen, excellent hot showers, toilets and sinks. But in the rain, I definitely felt the lack of one or two large dining/sitting areas, where you could eat lunch out of the rain and not knock elbows with something official like the gatekeeper.

Turns out that German houseflies really enjoy a weekend of camping too, particularly in pavilions. All of us ended up draping clothes over our faces, to avoid their nighttime ministrations - and these weren't even the biting insects.

Another drawback was the next-door neighbours, some sort of youth camp or daytime activity centre. The organizers there, and the kids, clearly felt that watching the weirdos in costumes was far more interesting than whatever they had planned for that day, and as a result we had dozens of kids circulating, largely unsupervised, through the camps, round the battlefield, and on the archery range. By Friday I was beginning to feel slightly less charitable towards the observers; I'd planned to attend an event, not a demo. Thankfully, they didn't come back on the weekend.

The strength of the event to me was the interesting fighting scenarios: in the castle, on the bridge, and following a theme. Friday's fighting was in the castle (after a rain delay) - a mostly-15thc monument with some earlier foundations (not sure, couldn't read the helpful tourist signs in German).

The site is big enough to accommodate lots of spectators at different positions, to watch the fighters work through a gateway and around a corner, trying either break in, or out of, the castle. The other scenario was on the bridge, over the moat/river - very narrow but well railed, with no risk of falling in.

Here, Robert took a very solid thrust to the face, which sent him reeling and crashing - he does fall rather spectacularly in armour. He was a touch annoyed, as the blow came from the new knight in the kingdom, Sir Ivan the Illustrated, a superduke from Caid. Face thrusts are 'positive contact' in Drachenwald - very light compared to some lands.

Apparently a few fighters 'had a chat' with Sir Ivan afterward. After two days of very keen fighting, Robert's previously-broken finger was swelling and sore, so he took the next day off. That was a pity because two additional scenarios were intriguing. One was the Sigismund tourney. Sigismund, the hero of Niebelungen, is invulnerable thanks to being coated in some magic stuff...except for a small spot on the back of his shoulder, which was accidentally covered by a leaf. So for this tourney, the Sigismunds were invulnerable, except for a single target unknown to their opponents. Their opponents numbered from one to three, depending on the rank of the Sigismund (more fighters for royal peers and knights). This idea didn't run quite as smoothly as it should have. Some opponents were having trouble getting the idea, and kept using their standard combinations even though these weren't viable targets...or else they were just so crap at targetting that they kept hitting their Sigismunds in invulnerable spots...which gives the initial impression that the Sigismund is shrugging like a rhino and not taking anything. Some Sigismunds just got tired of being hit over and over, and having to continue to fight; Eorl Giles, fighting three opponents, finally lifted his shield, pointed to his left side and said 'it's here, dammit, hit me here!' to hurry his bout along. Robert commented that tempers were getting a bit frayed by the end of this scenario. The much better scenario was with the Niebelungs, the Mongols, and Valkyries. The first two sides were, naturally enough, trying to get the upper hand on each other; after some initial confusion, they settled on calling their warcries for 'Niebelung' and 'Ghengis'. The Valkyries were three war-maidens, distinguished by their lovely long blond tresses (blond braid wigs taped to their helms). The maidens circulated among the fighters of both sides, resurrecting them and commanding them to serve the valkyries for 10 seconds after being resurrected (counted out loud), before returning to their former side. The Valkyries had three lives each, after which they died permanently and left the field. After all three died, all deaths were permanent. This scenario worked brilliantly for at least 20-25 mins of demanding all-out fighting: it was a swirling, fast-moving running battle of small engagements, using the whole length of the large list, as the Valkyries ran non-stop from end to end resurrecting, forming up, fighting and re-resurrecting people. The list was full of shouts of war cries and of 'Rise and live to serve me!' from the Valkyries. It was a hoot to watch, as the war maidens periodically killed wounded fighters only to promptly resurrect them again. I haven't laughed so hard watching fighting in ages. I think it worked partly with generous numbers - there was always someone to fight - partly because it was so silly and fun, and partly because they chose three excellent Valkyries: Sir Gerhardt, Sir John and Lord Barobrand, all of whom were fit and fast-moving. Barobrand is one of those broad heavy-bellied men who can run faster backward than many can forward. Neither Robert or I had made much provisions for evening meals. So what a treat! For two evenings of this event, we were spoiled rotten at the shared tables of Giles and Ezabella, and Max and Marguerite and their friends. They were camping together in their pavilions, and eating excellent camp-cooked food, and had more to share than they could possibly eat. And were loaded with still more: Stella brought three salmon with herb sauce, hot from the fire, to add to our table on one evening. It was delicious. So we gratefully accepted their invitations and washed as many dishes as we could in exchange. It was a real pleasure to sit at eat with friends - even occasionally distracted by crying children. At its peak volume, Marguerite looked at our faces and called it birth control. :-) I was struck by the discussion of Calontir; one lady had moved there from Drachenwald, and she's the first I've heard who can't stand it. Apparently she finds her royal peer shire neighbours self-involved and uninterested in topics dear to her, like authentic Norse clothing (she was touring Europe to visit museums with relevant collections for a textile history degree). It was the first time I'd heard anyone speak harshly of Calontir! Native Calontiri sing its praises for a long time afterward. But even Giles and EzaBella commented that there was a difference between Drachenwald and Calontir - particularly in standards of dress. Ezabella was saying she was revered as a mysterious authenticity-mavin peer when she returned now to visit, as her clothing was a step above the standard. It was a real pleasure to see EzaBella receive her Panache for 12th c. clothing that evening at court. The poor lady was in tears, thinking herself not worthy, but sometimes it is hard to convince her that anything she does is of merit. And the crown explained that they'd begged Padraig and Elsa for permission to present this award personally, at Niebelungen, so all Eza's friends might see it. There was a great loud cheer for her to wrap up court. Someone else who spoke highly of Drachenwald was the king of Trimaris - Baldur, of Baldur's blunts, who was visiting at this event. He stayed with Giles and EzaBella and fought in the tourneys, but declined to sit in court as royalty. My lord tells me that he remarked on the high quality of clothing here - particularly that everyone wore "real shoes". Shoes are, of course, the hardest item to get right, and for me were the last one I finally resolved to do, after many years of wearing flat leather dress shoes and sandals. And it's taken awhile to find my comfort level - wool felt insoles, and a pair of orthotics, go a long way. And I still don't wear them if it's horribly wet - I revert to army parade boots. Peversely, after all the rain, the last day was sunny and hot. I caught some sun on the last day, packing up pavilions and stuff, and sitting out with Hannah and Floris and Emma their daughter, eating and chatting about casting. They'd brought a beautiful French book with them (found on sale), an exhibit catalogue of everyday items, including several pewter molds, well described in the notes in French, which I could tell them about. Floris gave us a lift back to the train station, and we worked our way back to the UK in stages once more.