NK - Foreigners Gulf Wars Report - LONG

[Hugh Niewoehner]

Did anybody from NK stay saturday night?  

Here's a war report from my Squire brother.  If you don't want to hear
how much fun people had delete now.  

For those who've met Ferd you'll no doubt be unsurprised that he managed
to both have a lot of fun and perform some incredibly stupid acts...at
the same time.   Sound like some people we know????


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Greetings,

Well, by now you have read a few posts about Gulf wars, but here is one
more.
Sorry its so long, but feel free to hit your delete key.

Gillian and Duncan and I journeyed south to Gulf Wars on Thursday
evening.
After an uneventful drive we arrived at around 4:30 am, proceeded
through the
wonders of troll, and made our way to Calontir's now traditional camp
site.
Space was at a premium, but Calontir is used to camping in each others
back
pockets, so we managed to squeeze in.  (At this point I should probably
mention that I ended up camping in a shallow gully - I knew it was a bad
idea,
but it was the space available.)

Just as we started getting the tents set up, the first warnings of doom
fell.
Little tiny raindrops.  Harmless right?  But like ants they must have
gone
back to tell their friends to join them.  But we were prepared and got
things
up and were dry and snug soon thereafter.

Perhaps an hour later the friends and big brothers of those first little
raindrops arrived and began to turn the fields of the Gulf lands into a
swamp.
I slept happily until almost noon, then wandered out to discover what
the
schedule was for the fighting -- being pretty sure that there would be
some
delays.

Sadly as there was no room left in the camp for the purple pavilion due
to the
response to their Majesties call to arms, the camp was huddled down in a
variety of different tents and shade flys.  Wandering over to TRMs
pavilion, I
asked about the fighting and to my dismay I was told all the battles for
both
days had been canceled.  Fortunately in the same sentence I was asked if
I
wanted a cider -- and though I had been out of bed for all of 5 minutes
I
figured "What the hell, cider is basically just fruit juice -- right?"

It struck us as odd and more than a little frustrating that they would
simply
cancel all the battles for both days without even trying to squeeze them
in.
We later discovered that due to the frightening forecasts they (the
Crowns of
the principal Kingdoms) wanted people to start leaving -- thinking that
it
would be better than a mass exodus.  So in Fridays driving rain they
began to
leave, and the roads turned into a churned morass.  (Those of us who
stayed
until Sunday had no problems getting out as the rain had stopped and the
site
mostly drained.)

But even as camps around us began to empty, Calontiran's were still
arriving.
(This is when I discovered that they had stopped charging site fees to
those
arriving, as the war had been canceled.  Near as I could figure that
meant
that some of us paid $22 for the privilege of setting up in the dark.
:)  I'm
not complaining by the way - I had my $22 worth of fun.)

Since the battles had been canceled we took over a corner of the
battlefield
adjacent to our camp to put up the purple pavilion.  With typical
Calontir
willingness plenty of volunteers arose and soon we had our snug home
away from
home complete with rugs on the floor, an assortment of doormats gleaned
from
those camps which had fled, central heat thanks to TRMs propane burners,
and
incinetrons as porchlights.

The rest of the day passed well, though a group of our numbers chose to
daytrip New Orleans (about an hour South).  Sadly, though they visited
Cafe du
Monde they brought us back no beignets.  What kind of friends are these
;)
Fortunately we had our own Cafe du Odo.  He had prepared a huge pot of
chicken
soup -- real chicken soup with 20 or so pounds of chicken in it, not our
typical boxed stuff.

As evening rolled around the rain let up and finally stopped completely
and
the dinner seating of Cafe du Odo began.  Happily taking over a borrowed
barbecue grill he began to prepare an entire cooler load of meat --
delicious
seasoned steak and polish sausage in pieces which could be held in our
fingers. A fine start to an evening of parting around the purple
pavilion.

At one point I rediscovered that someone had left a nice looking
trebuchet
right next to the Royal pavilion, obviously meaning for us to play with
it.
(Okay, we put the pavilion up right next to the trebuchet -- but close
enough,
right?.)  Experimentation began with a gallon jug of water perhaps 1/4
full.
After discovering how to load it, it was fired in a beautiful 45 degree
arc
perhaps 40 yards.  (And Roderick's head, directly under the
counterweight more
than once, was never in danger -- really) Well, if water worked, beer
should
work even better, so cans of Busch Beer were gathered.  First we tried
one
beer, but it would not leave the sling right so, we figured 3 must be
better.
About this point Rolf came up and started telling us about the
consequences of
our actions and what was likely to happen with our ammunition.  Let me
just
say for the record - Rolf was right -- every time.

With three beers in the sling, the borrowed treb was fired.  Two of the
cans
flew beautifully downrange where Sheridon and several others tried to
catch
them.  The third beer however, flew backwards landing far to close to
poor
Elasait, an innocent spectator.  <delete last sentence> The third beer
however, was carefully placed in the sling so as to be delivered to our
hard
working Kingdom Seneschal.

After this we decided that perhaps firing multiple heavy projectiles was
not
the wisest choice for people who had started drinking at noon.  But
there on
the ground was one of the gallon jugs of water that Gillian had bought
for
waterbearing.  But if 1/4 gallon of water had worked well, a full gallon
should work 4 times as well.  Or so our logic at the time told us. 
Rolf's
warnings were once more ignored and the trebuchet was fired.  The gallon
of
water soared gracefully into the air.  Up and up it soared, at least 40
feet,
seemingly in slow motion.  But...  we only had 1/2 of the motion we
needed --
the projectile never moved forward so it came hurtling back to the
ground next
to the trebuchet.  The plastic jug exploded in an impressive display
that
would have been better had it not been so close to me.  After this
second
failure, they took our toy away and we went back to our party.

During the course of the afternoon and evening it was spread around the
war
that even though the battles had been canceled Calontir would be taking
the
field on Saturday and would eagerly meet all comers.  I heard this
repeated a
couple of times with a tone of awed respect (tinged by some wondering as
to
just how crazy we were.

Around 11:00 am the 1st Calontir Amphibious Assault Corps took the field
in a
light rain and began a bunch of pick up fights and small melees.  By
around
noon there were perhaps 50 of us (including the forces of Ealdormere who
asked
to fight by our side), and a few less opponents -- total.  That is to
say
Calontir fielded more troops than the three principal Kingdoms
combined.  We
then moved the fighting to the fortress, but as the gatehouse was
flooded we
fought mostly at the side wall and the breach.

Sadly, with no archers and no siege equipment it felt little like Gulf
Wars.
A handful of use went over the walls anyway- using Aidan as our personal
siege
ramp.  But without hundreds of troops inside and an entire column behind
us it
just was not the same.  Few new troops earned their airborn wings, but
everyone who fought with us that day earned their amphibious assault
rating as
the rain grew in intensity.  After several fun battles thunder and
lightning
began so we reluctantly left the field to gather once more in our home
away
from home -- the purple pavilion.

Shortly thereafter the heavy rain and the lightning stopped and Calontir
returned to the field with relish for an exciting game of Lutherball. 
It
began calmly enough with His Highness and His Majesty throwing javelins
at
each other.  But soon there were 30 or more Calontirans, plus the King
of the
West racing around throwing siege rocks (left for us by the siege rock
fairy)
and javelins at each other.  The game was embellished by random
tackling,
wrestling and careful defense of the beers and ciders some of us were
drinking
at the same time.   By the way, siege rocks made from tape covered
toilet
paper rolls weigh a LOT more when soaked with water.  Oh.  Did I mention
none
of us had helmets on?  At one point a rock slammed into the side of the
head
of one of the players (a former No Mountaineer who now resides in the
East).
After falling to the ground stunned he slowly made his way back to his
knees
and said feebly - "good.... No wait.  I'm an Easterner - Light!"

Well, about this point I noticed (as I had noticed the trebuchet the
night
before) that the Bitor's Viking ship was carelessly left far to close to
the
game.  Now this longship is built on a truck chassis with the steering
and
brakes intact, and can be pushed Flintstones style from within by people
sitting on the rowers benches.  Secure in the thought that the rules of
Lutherball did not specifically prohibit Viking ships, a handful of us
ran and
grabbed it and charged back into the fray.  I must say that standing on
a
moving ship dodging rocks and javelins while steering with one hand and
throwing javelins back with the others was a new experience for me.
Fortunately no one was run over by the moving ship.

About this point more of the players boarded the ship and other
increased its
speed by pushing as I turned the wheel over to the King of the West who
proceeded to steer straight for the gate in the castle.  As we
approached it
on an angle I realized that the ship was taller than the gate and jumped
on
the brakes which many of the riders had not known were there. After
careful
measurement we discovered that we would fit through if we removed the
dragon
prow and tail, so after lining up carefully forward through the gate we
raced.
As we did so, Arthur of Blackmarsh jumped off the parapets into the
moving
boat.

One more tale of the ship must be told.  As we came back around the
castle,
the King of the West climbed onto the prow and standing there with his
cloak
blowing in the breeze proceeded to do his Titanic imitation yelling "I'm
the
King of the West", just before he was struck in the back by a siege rock
thrown by someone who looked suspiciously like our Prince.

Shortly thereafter the Deluge started.  Waves of  rain poured from the
sky.
Far more than the ground could possibly absorb.  Within a couple of
hours the
entire site was afloat.  The battlefield looked like a giant lake with
no sign
of the grass visible.  At one point the rain was heavy enough that it
was
impossible to make out the material or scale of the castle and it looked
for
all the world like a huge medieval fortress.  And as the field was
covered
with water, the site of the Viking ship moored near its walls added a
wonderful site to the field.

Sometime during this, waves of water started racing through the royal
pavilion, turning the floor into a plastic covered swamp.  Most of the
site
was under several inches of water, and in some places where the runoff
ran it
was close to a foot.

More and more of the Non Calontirans abandoned the site and Richard de
Bleys,
scrounger extrordinair, procured for us several cabins that had been
abandoned.  (Why people who had cabins to sleep in would leave the site
because of rain is beyond me, but we were glad they did as it gave us a
good
place to gather.)  And the people who abandoned the cabin left behind a
well
stocked bar.  Beer cider, Captain Morgans and more...

As the rain slacked off we were offered food and more food.  A group of
Trimarans right next door had a huge dinner planned but most of their
people
had left so they fed us all a great dinner during which we traded songs
back
and forth.  It was noted early in this that when a Trimaran sang a song,
one
Trimaran sang, but that when it was our turn, Calontir all joined in. 
It was
a very fun beginning to the evening.

We were fed again later by Duke Kane and Duchess Illisa's Shadow
Legion.  They
put on a huge Cajon spread with all sorts of food.

At one point most of Calontir retreated into the bigger of the two
cabins and
lounging on the couches and 6 double beds we proceeded to party, with
singing,
stories and Roderick wrasslin, being the primary entertainment. 
Particularly
noteworthy was when  Richard and Roderick had crashed to the floor with
Roderick more or less on top, and Richard's legs sticking up into the
air.
Suddenly Roderick stopped and said "I will now recite a poem"  and with
Richard prompting him from below proceeded to do so.

After the cabin shut down for the night a party amoebae formed to wander
the
camp, finding a couple bardic circles, wallerin the King of Ealdormere,
taking
a golf cart out for a brief (10' spin) before Duncan broke it.  Finally
we
wandered (staggered?) back to camp at about 5 am.  Where Erich tried to
brush
his teeth.  But I'll leave that story for him.

Come Sunday morning there was no rain and we all packed up happy if
tired.
Special thanks should go out to Tamar and Ekeric (sp?) who agreed to
take the
royal pavilion home so it would not have to leave Saturday morning.

Though this post is full of bad weather ad gloomy thought, it is
important to
note that Calontir was in high spirits.  Those people whose gear got
soaked
got taken care of.  Those who left early missed out on some damned good
times.
We came to have fun and we did so.  We came to fight and we did so.  We
proved
once more that we are the masters of our own fun.

One final thought.  Master Kirk has been at each major war Calontir has
fought
for many years.  This time he stayed home and they canceled the war. 
Hmmm....
He'll probably claim it was clever planning, but we know the truth - its
all
his fault.

   Fernando - 1st Calontir Amphibious Assault Corp