Larp thread and optional salt mine

>notbad.scroll

OK, I am going to try it. Who wants to win free stuff?

The order of the bucket knight is on of nobility, honor and stolen kitchenware, and is something of a running gag for larpthread. Show us your best armour made of kitchen utensils, buckets and other "found objects", and you have a chance of winning the pictured items: One sealed reproduction deck of the 17th/18thC I. Hardy playing cards, a set of wooden dice, and a lovely bag for it all.

To enter, simply post your best bucket-knight costume, and email the same pic to [email protected] so I know who is who. The best gets the prize, with points for humor, realism (IE, is it using historic/larp themed items vs a tshirt and a plastic pasta strainers) and action/theme. Sadly, due to my educator's salary, I will be limiting this to US and Canadian entries only for now.

I will post examples of bucket knights, and welcome others to join!

Give me a theme.

well about battles I have one from 2015 Drachenfest. It wasn't as really winning but surviving a confrontation in the final battle.

The final battle there is a mess. Lots of different camps, with very shady alliances, and stuff and I was with the Landsknechte who were mercenaries and we fought for the highest bidder.

It was way into the final battle we had our share of casualties but so had everyone else. Basically we were one of the most deadly group because we actually used formation, had discipline and a fuckton of polearms. It was mostly the polearms.

Anyway the thing is with a mass battle like that is you can easily find yourself on the wrong end of a gang bang in a group size.
This is exactly what happened. We got between to groups that tried to kill us and a few more popped up in the chaos. We were encircled slowly but steadily.

We had backup plans for such things, and as the officers seen that this will soon turn into a bad-war they gave the order and our drummers started to give out the signal of "Shit hit the fan"

This means that everyone goes into a circle formation around the drummers and officers as soon as possible and everyone holds his or her pointy stick outwards and stab every son of a bitch who tries to get close. As I said we had a lot of pointy sticks.

Is that a chick in the front row? With the silly yellow hue of her costume?

I was in a perfect position to see as the encircling slowly completes. A group dressed in black and white, vaguely going for a templar theme probably (but wasn't the copper camp) were the ones who tried to put the final nails into this coffin.They had more than enough armour and big shields too.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, the rape train approached and it had no breaks.
Another group arrived from the side of the maybetemplars and they obviously had a bone to pick with them. They SMASHED into their ranks and caused general mayhem there.

We see the opportunity and quickly moved in too so we could get out of the encirclement.
It was a wonderful moment, not just because we were successfully escaped that situation (with a few casualties) but also because a photographer took photos of it and it shows how I was there attacking the other group while next to me two very high ranking field officers were there

The re-enacter in me cries watching clothes of all those people... So much effort... so little accuracy, while the effort is still visible....

Yes, but what silly about the yellow?

>silly yellow hue
that doesn't really narrowed it down. But if you mean the guy with the gloves then no, he isn't a chick

keep in mind that most of these guys aren't reenactors and a lot of them are actually dressed up for Warhammer fantasy Landsknechte.
But there were more than a few accurate cloths too.
Example

...

I don't mind them, really. It's just how you can clearly see all of them tried really, really hard, all of them did their research... and the end result is stilll "wtf?!"-tier

Drunk with power.

Got any buckets knights you can spare, Hungarian?

Wut?

Well there is a bar to enter the LK camp. There are also tutorials and stuff.
But because it's a larp they had to draw a line what is accaptable and it couldn't be too high too low neither. It isn't perfect but I would say it's good enough. Especially that every year there is improvement, and the camp looks great.

also a lot of cloths problem is the not correct material. Most of them would look way better if they would use 100% wool and such but that isn't cheap so I won't condemn them for this

nope, but here, have some kitchen knights

Meh, why not? This has a narrow escape, anyway.

So I play a larp called "Wastelands", which is a small-scale post-apoc larp (combine Fallout and Shadowrun), which uses a combination of airsoft, nerf guns, and boffer weapons. It's still a "called-damage" system with a great deal of granularity like NERO... but since the people who play it are extremely chill and there's literally no game that DOESN'T do that within 400 miles of me, it's the "least bad" local option. My PC is a primarily a rifleman (yes, I know a Thompson isn't a "rifle") with a side specialty in demolitions.

So, during the last game in November, I was bored. I mean, like, REALLY bored. Combat isn't strictly necessary for me to enjoy a game, but this game was pretty much ALL about one PC's personal backstory, and it was all being done via talking and bullshittery which I couldn't be a part of (not being closely aligned with said PC). I'd even done the entire group a favor very early into game by spending a great deal of in-game money to buy/bribe them out of a very bad jam they'd gotten themselves into at the cost of a year's worth of treasure-collecting, on the express condition they would pay me back ASAP. Once safe, when asked by the plot guy if they planned to ever pay back the very nice person who got them out of the jam, they essentially laughed and said "fuck, no." The one important PC was very clear about this as far as he was concerned: if I wanted to spend my money that was entirely my concern, and he'd sooner get (and I quote here): "raped by radioactive leviathan spiders than pay [NEA] back a thin dime."

>So I play
>not played
*gasp*

So by the last couple hours of the event, I was tired, annoyed, quite poor (quite literally the only loot I'd gotten was a 6-pack of mixed EMP and armor-piercing grenades...which didn't matter because there are basically never any robots or heavy armor fielded in the game), and very bored. Which meant it was time to go find something to do. Since he'd left it sitting around for an hour while he talked to other characters about his drama, I grabbed the "important PC's" signature and highly unique hat, grabbed a couple newbies, and went over to the plot guy.

"Plot guy, in-game, we're just outside that Happy FunLand amusement park that the slavers set up as a base of operations, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. Why?"
"They keep their bankroll there, right?"
"Yeah, behind like 150 slavers, plus the mutated animals in the zoo, and inside the amusement park casino vault. Same as last time you guys tried to attack the place. Again, why?"
[indicate myself, a 3-game veteran player, and 3 1st-game newbies]
"Well, I have this park map I got the last time we were there. So we're gonna go steal the bankroll."

So the plot guy blinked and asked if we were quite sure. We were quite sure. Well, the newbies were nervious about it, but *I* was sure. He sort of chuckles to himself and goes off and starts gathering NPCs to play a very large number of bad guys.

Apologies, thought I wrote something different. Everyone else is writing about winning/living by the skin of their teeth, I was wondering if you had anything about some chap who went mad with power. Or just more narrow victory/escape stories, the ones I've seen so far are quite good.

So we break into the place. From a previous attempt (involving 3 times the number of PCs, all of whom were high-level), we had an idea that their defenses were set up a certain way, and we used the map to bypass the majority of the defenses, and the other veteran player hopped into what passed for their computer security network and routed the bulk of the bad guys to the other park entrance, so we had a reasonably clear run. Once we got up to the casino area, we ended up in a firefight with a half-dozen guys with automatic weapons (PCs can only use semi-auto airsofts by default - full-auto are very rare and precious in-game; it's part of the whole post-apoc scarce resources thing). A nasty battle ensues, and by the time the gunsmoke clears, it's just myself still standing, one wounded and cybered-up security guy who's out of ammo, and the two security robots the guards called in before we could stop them. Everyone else is unconscious and bleeding (they'll be dead in 5 minutes). They're keeping me pinned down with heavy weapons fire, and I am about to be *completely* fucked. So I take a minute to fiddle with my equipment, and I eventually put my hands up over the barricade.

"I surrender. My leg's hit. Gimme first aid! As long as you let me go alive, I'll tell you who sent us here."

Perfectly welcome!

The guard calls off the bots and sends them over to pick me up, restrain me, and bring me back over so he can interrogate me. The bots come around my cover (one staying a bit back to cover me), and picks me up...which then pulls the string around my waist. Which pulls the pins on the 3 EMP grenades I'd been sitting on. The bots shut down, as does security guy's cyberware (including his eyes and memory-recording device. The plot guy was unamused.). I stand up, keep the last guy covered, and hit my companions with a auto-medical injector which brings them back up wounded, but alive.

We use the armor-piercing grenades to break into the vault, rob the place, and haul ass. Before leaving, I zip-tie the blinded guy's wrists together (always carry zip-ties) and tell him that I keep my promises. I quietly give him the name of the welcher PC, tell blindy that the welcher was wounded in the fight but I'm carrying him out since he's my boss (and I'm telling this guy since I keep promises and I'm not getting paid enough for this shit), and left that unique and very distinctive one-of-a-kind hat lying in the debris of the explosion, right as the game ended.

So, in the end, I paid approximately $2,000 to get those assholes out of their jam. Reminder, this was the total effort of essentially collecting money for an IRL calendar year. After treasure split, I made $10,000 gross off the robbery. Although I missed the last game (in December), the slavers are now thoroughly annoyed at PC-with-the-hat, and consider him to personally be on the hook for the $25,000 that he clearly ordered "stolen" from them, plus interest. They are hunting him using their stable of giant mutated radioactive spiders, and I am personally really hoping that plot remembers the exact wording of his refusal not to pay what he owed.

All in all, something to look forward to when it gets warm again and the game comes back.

Solid kit, well done paint job on the Hammershot and most certainly a story to remember.

Wait, is that real bulletproof vest and helment? How do you even get that shit? Isn't it illegal?

It will make your sentence harsher if you commit a crime wearing it (obvious premeditation), sure, but in what communist hellhole would it be illegal to own?

Anyway here is another survived and even "won" by the skin of teeth.

It has a very long background but tl;dr I was the herald of a fencing school (the best fencing school in that area obviously) and there was another group which were worked very hard on to be so unlikable that I considered killing them on several occasions, one of those reasons where going through my personal (in game) items while searching through our camps when we weren't there and also accusing me of heresy, among other things and their leader even draw a pistol on me after I kicked his bodyguard's ass (and even punched his wizard in the stomach, but that's another story)

Anyway we weren't on a very great terms with them but the local inquisitor gave them permit to do stuff, so while a lot of people hated them they didn't do anything.
This obviously couldn't stand so I pulled a few strings and after a while convinced the inquisitor to pull back their permit and give it to my group (yet another story how I did this)

So the time comes when the permit is re-written, in my camp. The inquisitor is there, I was there, and a friend of mine who was a bodyguard in a different group but our paths met was there too.

Me and the inquisitor was doing the paperwork with ink and everything and lacking proper tables we had to do this on the ground (not an ideal condition) Anyway a guy from the hated group comes in with two of their minions talking about some bullshit, "evidence" or some shit like that, nobody really cared. But then he somehow got behind the inquisitor and slith his throat while their minions attacked us. The problem was that I was holding a bottle of ink in my right hand and the cap for it in the left and I lost several second before I decided what the fuck to do with it. It wasn't a big place so I couldn't retreated to infinity so at last I throw away the ink and tried to draw my sword. I wasn't fast enough, so I hit the ground as they cut me. I wasn't dead but I was close to it.

Hungary for example

SOMEONE THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN!!!

lol you can buy a helmet at any army surplus store.

Lol Hun Larpfag, this is America. I could buy tier 4 steel body armor if I wanted, able to survive shots from battle rifles so long as it ain't AP.

I am a degenerate boffer combat player in Canada, Amtgard to be specific because I like my whacks to be fantasy flavoured.

Does anyone know of any good actual LARPs in Ontario? I want to get into to more than just casual boffer combat but I don't really know where to start.
I have heard of Underworld, but from a few people that I know who go it sounds pretty degenerate and generally shitty for players who aren't a part of the cool kids.

Cool story

Is there a point to nerf guns?
Airsoft are significantly better

If I had to guess, it's akin to allowing boffers and latex at the same time.

The guy who slit the inquisitor's throat took a few seconds to draw a very rough chaos sign on my leg while I was down and run for it, loudly screaming that there was an attack and stuff like that.
While the rest of the minions tried to finish what started, namely putting me to death for real, but the friend of mine who was there (unarmed and so far tried to not get killed) shouted at them and tried to wrestle one to the ground. he was successful, temporary, but this was more to the fact that the two guys wasn't really competent.
Anyway they were driven a few meters away from me, couldn't finish me off and in the meantime I managed to drink a healing potion that ensured that I won't bleed out right there, but otherwise I remained on the ground.

Thanks to all the shouting my team quickly arrived and... well, let's just say that one of my guys was a big man with a big sword and he was very angry. The minion problem was quickly solved.

Then others arrived, some teachers from the local university and such (mages mostly) figuring out what the ever loving fuck happened. Meanwhile my team poured healing potions into me like there is no tomorrow.

I was marginally questioned what happened, and the mages searched the inquisitor's corpse too, but clearly they didn't really cared that much about this (they had far greater worries, mostly about a magical gate, but that's again, another story) They even gave the inquisitor's pistol to me (which was the final gift to the inquisitor from his dead wife) and the ammo he had. I was still not battle ready even though all the health potions but I was sure as fuck able to load a pistol and not question the Gods will when firearms get into my hands.

And then I saw the guy who killed the inquisitor approaching our camp bringing even more people there (people that were in his pocket) so I hopped to cover, next to the entrance as fast as my injuries allowed.

>Warhammer larp, complete with inquisitors, chaos undivided and well made factions.
Good Gods man, this may be one of the greatest things I've ever seen, and that's including the Bellator and Novice in your pic related!

I play at one called Shadow Realms
Its alright. Rules heavy, and combat focused, but there are good role players and some players have good costumes.
I've heard good things for From Ashes of an Empire (if you're looking for good costuming and no magic) but I haven't played it myself
One of my friends goes to Fantasy Alive and seems to come back happy. But again, haven't played there myself.

If you have interest in shadow realms, let me know, Ill drop an email and answer questions if you got any

Yes, they are real. I actually got them as "surplus" insofar as I kept them when I left the Army. And no, they aren't illegal in the slightest (SAPI plates are somewhat different, depending on locality, but I'm just using the Interceptor vest for this purpose.)

You can't normally do take stuff home these days besides a limited amount of clothing, but I was buddy-buddy with our company supply sergeant and a couple of mortar guys from the weapons platoon. We pretty much all wanted to keep some things. Nothing really serious, mind you - not like GPS units, NVGs or any sort of weapons or ordnance.

The supply sergeant just told battalion that he was out of storage space (this was 2006 when we were getting huge boxes of all sort of shit; 3 different versions of Oakley shooting glasses in 2 weeks, for example), so it was a reasonable claim. Battalion just told him to find somewhere else to put it, so he wrote down that a ton of stuff (the stuff we wanted, plus really old stuff that we couldn't use and couldn't get rid of) was being stored in an old observation shed near the mortar range.

Then it was a simple matter for the mortar guys to drop a short round on the shed. Everything in the shed was written off as destroyed, so supply got to get rid of their old shit, and we got to take a bunch of shit home, since it no longer officially existed. Boom, easy...as long as we did it ONCE and didn't get greedy about what was in there.

Amusing side note: unless you're severely malnourished, everybody looks fat in an Interceptor. The skinny SF guys? They're wearing plate carriers, not an Interceptor. The difference is that a plate carrier is literally a cloth or nylon sling holding a SAPI plate, and offers no further protection. An Interceptor vest is a protective garment in its own right, and it chafes like a MOTHERFUCKER around the neck.

I want to do this, but there is no way im posting a picture of myself on Veeky Forums.

Yeah, actually. We have a minimum engagement distance with airsofts; you can't fire them at a target within 10 feet.

Nerf guns can be used underneath that threshold, so if you have a target trying to enter melee (remember, this has a heavy Shadowrun influence; Physical Adepts are a thing), you can shoot them once they get close. Hell, you can even shoot them *while* in melee, which is fun. Very few people have the presence of mind to utilize a firearm in melee, and it takes people by surprise a LOT when you parry a blow and shoot them with a nerf dart in the face.

When the guy entered our camp I simply shot him in the throat.
No greetings, no one liners, just one simple shot. Then I started to reload.
Everyone was baffled but I just tol them he was the one who killed the inquisitor. Nobody questioned me, especially after my friend backed me up on that.

Then a few minutes later I see that the leader of that group is approaching with a pretty big group too. And I was like, whatever, if somethings worth doing then do it right.
So I went out to meet him. He was pretty occupied talking someone from that group and he barely looked up when I approached him and shot him in the throat too. No words again, just a simple shot.
The silence was very thick and everyone was speechless again. The only sound was how I reloaded the pistol again.
People didn't wanted to attack me (lots of people hated that guys after all) but they didn't want to let me get away with this. Also they had a priest and he was started to stabilize the guy. I tried my best to interrupt him, come up with every bullshit excuses and even more, tried to put my foot into the proverbal door as long as I can so the priest couldn't finish his magic in time.Sadly I was carried away by three men and I couldn't do much about it as I was basically still injured.

The priest stabilized the guy but he remained unconscious so he had to taken to a proper healer. Then the priest left because he had other urgent matters and the whole group that surrounded the half dead guy started a pointless argument about something (and other people also arrived who joined to the pointless arguments) So when the priest said "someone take him to a healer" it was pretty much translated in everyone's head as "Someone who isn't me"

Only one guy volunteered to bring the half dead person to the healer and as everyone was way too occupied with unimportant shit I quietly volunteered to. To this day I don't know why nobody objected...

Here's a one I find entertaining to tell:
>Some dude is lying on the floor KO (IC)
>Some unarmoured dude with only a sword is standing guard over him, waiting for a healer to come
>An enemy archer creeps up alone
>I quickly walk up to armoured dude and cast 'protection from missiles' on him
>He immediately charges the archer
>Archer panicks and misses
>He beats archer to pulp

>A few minutes later, he loudly and theatrically brags to his group how he heroically did that all on his own, then gives me a nod of thanks when they aren't looking

>armoured dude
Unarmoured* dude, I should go to sleep.

Only thing better than a smart wizard is a smart bro-tier wizard. Good job user.

Sweet, thanks! I am checking out Shadow Realms on Facebook and it looks interesting. Do you know if my Amtgard ultralite boffers would be legal in Shadow Realms?

But it happened. And when we arrived to the healers hut the other guy want ahead to open the door.
When he wasn't looking I quickly drew my dagger and stabbed a few dozen times Mr. Shitface, and then a dozen time more just for good measure. I was already putting back my dagger when the other guy looked back. Then looked at the corpse. Then at me. Then at the dagger.

There was nothing to say except for the following words that I spoke:
"How much?"

I basically bribed him with a few gems (which didn't worth as much as he thought but whatever) and we agreed that the guy bleed out during the way here. Were sad and tragic too.

Then after a few more bullshitting in other parts of the game I escaped.

This is the story how I shot two noble man in the throat and got away with it. Also how I revenged the inquisitor with present from his dead wife.
Also how I proved that the Sterrenfels fencing school is the best fencing school

well it's not exactly warhammer fantasy but heavily based on it.

Also I have more than just a novice and a bellator

Admirable. Any advice for using a two-hander from Calimacil? I've been using one of their bastards for a year now and I'd really like to wield something with more reach.

To the extent on my knowledge, yeah they should be fine.
The big thing is you can't feel the core on the striking surface.
Saying that, no promises

>Then it was a simple matter for the mortar guys to drop a short round on the shed. Everything in the shed was written off as destroyed, so supply got to get rid of their old shit, and we got to take a bunch of shit home, since it no longer officially existed. Boom, easy...as long as we did it ONCE and didn't get greedy about what was in there.
Dude this is like the BEST army story fucking ever.

>we wanted to keep some shit for mementos from service, so we "put it" in the shed that got shelled by mortars.

their "twohanders" are very wobbly and in truth more of a hand and a half for average people.
I hae no experience with their new bidenhander but as much as I seen from the promo video I assume it's fucking wobbly too (and barely counts as a two hander)

They are good for safe fighting but you have to keep in mind that they are VERY wobbly so if you block too close to yourself and especially if the other weapon is wobbly as fuck too then there is a great chance that you get hit.

That said they are light enough to go all niggering with it and do quick stabs from cuts and such

Much appreciated.

yeah, that is pretty much the same requirement for our weapons. we also have minimum foam coverage and such. basically duct tape boffers are heavy as all hell to me and Amtgard fighting is basically like lightsabers because of how fucking fast they are.

don't mention it.

Also I have to go now because it's 5 am and I still have to run a few errands today.

Good luck and good evening.

Hey Hungy, did you make or buy that sexy hat?

Duct tape and Latex is the majority of weapon. I had a passing conversation with one of the people running the game about cloth weapon and it was mentioned okay.

Personally I prefer latex, just for looks

I have never used latex weapons. How do they function compared to duct tape boffers? Are they much lighter or anything?

They tend to be a bit lighter, but nothing like the ultralights.

But they make up for it in looking the best

This story is a bit new, but it was all about making sure that everyone else lost by the skin of their teeth, rather than us winning.

Unlike we normally do, a friend of mine (who I shall hence call Clark) decided that we would be NPCs for the entire weekend, on account of it being free and something we hadn't tried before. Up until this point, the things we had been sent out as were fairly normal: bandits, animals, undead, etc. However, tonight had reached the dreaded gank shift, so I knew that something interesting was coming our way. Now NPCs in this LARP are used for a small amount of things in a similar function to D&D NPCs:
>Random encounters
>Removing things from the economy (or adding to it, in some cases)
and lastly,
>Plots spanning multiple events.
Clark and I had been mostly been sent out as random encounters, with a few exceptions. After returning from the evening's main event and heading back to Monster Camp, I was approached by a marshal who played a very powerful _something_ as his character (I had yet to be sure of what). He asked me simply if I was "willing to run around and fight for a while." I said to him something to the effect of: "Well I didn't come here to sit down and roleplay." Everyone laughed for a moment, the marshal smiled and said to me a few words that changed my life permanently:
>"Okay, there's a jester costume sitting on the shelf alongside two masks. I need you to go and put those on."
I did as I was told and in a few moments was in costume. The two masks were a masquerade mask and a skull mask, which I assumed meant that I was playing an undead jester. Clark was told to dress as if he were a peasant child and given a skull.
>This skull is your ball, no matter what anyone says. If given the opportunity, you want to play ball.
Clark and I naturally asked what exactly we were doing, and the response was that we were the undead minions of something that had a lot of powerful magic. We had no idea how powerful.

Our master's name was Julius. We had never seen him nor heard of him before, as we didn't show up too often, but according to the chap portraying the NPC, he was very, very strange. Apparently there was once a wedding between two fairly important people and Julius had shown up as entertainment. He wasn't hired, he simply arrived and served as entertainment. He sang and danced as no one had ever seen before, until the wedding itself began. Julius grew sadder and sadder, until the priestess reached the point that stated 'If anyone does object...please rise or forever hold your peace.' Julius rose and began to sing. The stomach of the priestess proceeded to explode outward, covering all of the attendants in blood and various internal appendages (her body was actually rigged with a bag of the stuff, no GM descriptions here). The bride began to sob, and Julius walked up to her and wiped his bloody hand on her face, whispering that he 'blessed their matrimony'. The groom was cowering in fear and Julius sang again, pulling an unknown item from on his person to Julius' open palm. He sang the doors open and walked out of the bloodied chapel.

I feel that it's appropriate to say that bards as players do not have the skills or spells to do anything remotely resembling Julius' skillset, no matter how high leveled they were.

That night, Julius was dressed in a far more extravagent jester costume than my own, with various shades of gold, red, white and black covering his face in circus-esque patterns. While the player behind Julius explained the background for this NPC, we walked slowly to the Baron's Mansion, which was located deep into the woods. Our orders upon reaching the Manor were as follows: watch the perimeter and confuse the people on the inside as he spoke. So we traversed around the Manor, and occasionally Clark and I would stand near the windows and pass the skull back and forth, accompanied by my creepy, high pitched laugh. Then, the three of us left.

It was then that Julius began to explain the current reason why he was here: to make a deal with the head of the Mage's Guild. Or at least, that's what the Master wanted from him. We walked across the same path we came and stopped at the log cabin where the Mages stayed. With a brief song, Julius unwove the sorcerous defenses of the cabin and stepped inside. He questioned the only mage remaining and told that mage to inform the Guildmistress that the meeting was supposed to be held in the Mage's Cabin. Julius then recreated the same sorcery that prevented him from entering the cabin, with the exact same password that the Guildmistress used before, and we stepped out. Allow me to mention that even bards who had stayed with the game since its inception couldn't do anything resembling deconstructing sorcery. Hell, even other sorcerers (sorcery being the mage prestige class) could not deconstruct and reconstruct each other's magic, especially not by singing.

With that in mind, Clark, Julius and I walked down a path to the Inn (where the lone mage had conveniently stated that the Guildmistress was staying) and encountered a few high-leveled adventurers. After trying to be reasonable, Julius directed his song at them.

Forgive me, as his song was worthy of its own paragraph. The effects of the song brought intense agony to anyone who heard it in game, but out of game it was some of the most beautiful opera I had ever heard. Julius sung with a passion in a language that we could not understand, and the players fell to their knees. So we went along the path again, and found more adventurers. Julius explained to them what he had to the mage, sang his song of Agony and puffed away in a cloud of smoke, leaving his servants to 'finish the job.' This is where Clark and I decided to have some fun with it. I was given the stats of a rogue in addition to those of a stronger undead, so I used that to my advantage in an attempt to backstab and waylay my foes. I failed.

Yeah, I kind of wish we could use latex weapons. They look so nice.

I was quite content with the fact that I couldn't attack them, I was never a good rogue out of game. So I decided to just let one of them attack me. He shouted after every strike, taking his shortswords and using them to cut me into mincemeat. I did not scream in agony, I laughed. I laughed with every strike, and as the last of my undead soul fell from my body I let a final, whispering laugh echo from my lips. The adventurer proceeded to stand over me and deliver a coup de grace, to ensure I would not return.

Eventually I sat up from my dead position out of game and watched what Clark was doing, since initially, he was supposed to help me fight. Instead of an undead fight, as I expected, Clark was acting as if he were a ten-year old body inside the body of an undead, which thusly lead to severe memory loss. He spoke to them, asked if they could play 'ball' in a high pitched tone I wouldn't expect from anyone else. One of the adventurers broke his leg. He screamed in pain. One of the healers tried to use positive energy to mend the leg of what was actually a negative energy undead. Clark screamed a second time. By that point I had walked back over to Julius and asked what he wanted me to do next.

Clark disappeared back to monster camp for a little bit, while Julius and I moved forward. Y'see, the Inn happened to have a bell a few feet from it, and the bell was loud enough to be heard across camp since we used it to tell what hour it was. The Guildmistress had reached the Mage's Guild at that point, and Julius told me he was going to the Inn. He explained whenever the Guildmistress was one place, we were in the opposite place. Julius went to the Inn's door, leaving me with very specific instructions.

I let that bell ring again and again at 'too early for this shit AM' and walked towards Julius. He sang his opera once again, opening the Inn's doors...only to find a pair of bards singing up a sanctuary. Julius challenged them to a duel.

And so, the two bards and the Jester stood upon a table and sang their separate songs. The bards were singing lyrics in Common about friendship or something or other, while Julius was singing the opera he had sung all these times before. It was breathtaking, I almost stopped staring menacingly at everyone else in the Inn to watch. But it got better.

Ever seen those slow-motion scenes in movies where a fight was happening, but for some reason there's also a chorus of voices in the background? I was that fight. Julius, bringing agony to all around him with his discordant vocal chords, was protected by his humble, laughing servant. I attacked from behind, I moved from opponent to opponent hoping to land a hit or two and keep attention away from Julius. Eventually, I fell, and Julius disappeared. So I went back to monster camp and sat there until 3:30, helping keep things clean until morning.
Meanwhile, Clark and Julius returned to the Manor, watching people as they tried to fall asleep, only to come back to Monster Camp after everyone was dreaming disturbed dreams. (about 3:45 AM.)

It was at that point that Clark and I walked to our tent, wrapped ourselves in the warmest clothing we had and fell asleep until we were an hour late for our next NPC shift. (About 5-6 hours.)

To this day, I say there is only one lesson worth learning from that adventure:
>Do Not Mess With The Jester

Right? I want more people to use them
Duct tape weapons just don't look anywhere near good enough

Did you find out what was he?

I still don't know exactly what Julius was, just that his powers were drawn from being in dissonance with the place that all magic comes from. He basically fueled his spells by not working in harmony with the Weave. As for the guy who sent me on this job, I believe he's a sorcerer of some kind. Nice guy too, he wound up getting my actual character his sword back and only enslaved two of the bastards who took it!

Damn straight, even the best duct-tape weapons are extremely lacking in color and detail.

Another story, or two, while I have the time.

A good two years ago, I was bringing a friend of mine into the hobby, having hyped him up about it for a along while ago. I was playing a mage, he decided to be a knight. I suggested that we play brothers so that we'd have an excuse to stay by each other's sides. Turns out that the event we were going to was not exactly newcomer friendly.

Nightmares. Dreadful, dreadful nightmares plagued our little town. Not just dreams, no. These were nightmares made manifest by Divines know what power. There was hope, though, for we had with us the Dream Knight: a being of pure hope. He told us that so long as we were brave, we would survive. Of course, being smart folk, we also tried to use tactics. We failed on both accounts.

We expected an army from the Nightmare. We did not expect seven beings of immense power. They were strong enough to cut armies in twain, powerful enough to leave everyone fending for themselves. Many a time did I fall to the ground, and many a time my brother Oscar did the same. Yet whenever we did, we always picked each other back up and got each other healed. When the courage had run dry, and the Dream Knight finally died, it was true that for a time, all hope was lost. Yet, a bond was forged that day. A brotherhood between those two soldiers of fortune was brought to the fore. Damn, does the player get on my nerves sometimes but if you're out there, Scipio, I want you to know that we all make mistakes. Sometimes you just need to know what was wrong to make it right again.

It was pretty low-key LARP, it happened long time ago and I was not key player of story, but anyway:
> A nasty rogue goes innawods and starts killing people.
> A real pain in the butt: silent, unpredictable and also a good swordsman.
> At the time there was an event with inquisition.
> Grand Inquisitor recruited three high-ranking players to help him on his journey.
> Inquisitor hears about rogue and officially denounces him as a heretic.
> There is now a hunt for his head with a solid reward, but hunt is valid only for a day for the reasons I don't remember.
> A lot of people search him, but when day was about to end, almost everyone gave up.
> Everyone except Grand Inquisitor and his loyal crew.
> One and the half hour before hunt is over.
> Inquisitor with his people walks by the road, when suddenly right before him rogue appears from innawods.
> They stare at each other in shock, but rogue was first one to react.
> He quickly ran to nearest tree and climbed on a top of it, as simply running away was futile.
> Inquisitor and his team surrounded the tree: "By the name of Mighty, I command thee to go down and face divine justice!"
> Rogue ignores it, no one dares to climb, archer from Inquisitor's team tires to shoot poor bastard, but somehow rogue deflects all shots.
> And so he sat on the tree for one and the half hour until the hunt was over.
> No one have seen this rogue after this event.

A short one to bump it up; and I'll write a bigger one after.

We'll start with how our good fratre superieur got a song written about 'his' splendour.
Now to give you a bit of an introduction to the setting, it's a medieval post-sort-of-apocalyptic world. Before us lowly misers there was a world of magical glory and perfection where no man went hungry, and the houses were built of gold and platinum.
These days though it's small villages and scraping by for just the most basic of resources since most of the farmland is poisoned. We believe though that by the graces of God we can return to the days of the Anciens. All we have to do is rid the world of the corrupted seed, or rather, kill every non-human.

It was the first evening of the event and the town was alive with people still buzzing with positive vibes and pre-event hype. The time-in had only been a few hours ago and the first bits of plot had been strewn about. All in all, it was a good time to leave our mark, and remind everybody that they were only there by our grace. To be honest that couldn't stray further from the truth, but people believed us nontheless. And we liked it that way. There were about 15 of us, clad in uniform. Lower ranks in chainmail, higher ranks in plate.
In the town square, straight in front of the tavern, a small crowd had gathered. One of the members of the bard's guild members was delivering a poem, and a really long one at that. You could bet he had spent more than a few OC hours writing that. Our brother superior was ofcourse interested, but when we drew near, and the crowd dispersed at the sight of obvious 'baddies', we learned 2 things.

First of all, the song was about the local elven prince, singing of his glory and grace. Second of all, the bard was an elf.
It was a double entendre of hatred, like the collective flags of the USSR flying infront of the bulls of Pampalona. Brother superior put an armoured hand on the bard's shoulder and cleared his throat. Cont.

I made it

The bard's face turned white, and then I mean genuinely white. I don't know wether he was a great actor, or just actually frightend. He played his part greatly either way.

Our brother superior asked him kindly if the bard knew he was lying, and that our good Lord up in Heaven really wasn't all that pleased with people spreading lies about in-human beasts.
Espescially when these lights put them in a positive light. The brave little bard that could wouldn't have it though, and spat back a line of well articulated cursewords. Now us being fantasy-nazi's we wouldn't have, and within a second the fellow was down on the ground being kicked at while one of us assured our Brother Superior's armour was cleaned.

After an invigorating kicking session he bent over and looked at the bard with a smile, and asked him wether he knew any good song. Maybe about the Saints or some other great man, wink wink.

I don't have to say the bard's response, for this is a blue board, but let's just say that during an hour of football practice I'd have made less kicks than that day.

A good bit of 'talking' later, we got the poor fellow to do the whole poem but now with the elven names taken out and our Brother Superior's name there instead. It took over 4 minutes of reciting and it was great.

We even threw him more gold for his performance than he most likely made the rest of the event. So much even, that next event he actually took a job as playwright for us (I think it was him atleast) and did a whole theater show about killing elves. As an elf.

I have a story, but I'll write a little bit of introduction first.
It was not a very big LARP, it was "domestic" event for local community and guests from nearby regions. I was late for registration, so the only roles left were pretty small. I've decided to go as peasant-blacksmith, because it was only interesting non-combat role and I could not apply as a combatant because of health problems I had at that time. And generally I thought that it would be nice to do a simple slice of life for once in a while.
Setting was based on a book of a popular author from my country. Just a poor-man's Pratchett that was very popular in local community for some reason. Game took place in a Not-Renaissance-Spain, and general plot-line was focused around village my character lived in. Previous landlord is gone, so several factions were trying to take control of it, some mysterious stuff started to happen in region, and so on.
Story begins when organizer of my location didn't bring any material for my character to work with. It was the day of game and material supposed to give me some plot-hooks and tie me to local events. Organizer was terribly sorry, but I said it was okay, because I planned to do my quiet peasanty things anyway.
But eventually my attempt in doing slice of life resulted in screwing up captain of guard, chief of bandits and village elder. And also by the end of the game I had funds close to one's of a local lord.
Should I write it?
Actually, premise may sound better than the actual tale. Outcome is true to way it sounds, but all of it was done by means that are accessible to small peasant.

>Should I write it?
I'd say the more tales the merrier

meanwhile I got back from my errands so if anyone needs an image dump just say it

>Is there anything else you all would suggest I make?

Marzipan sweetmeats.

...

Now when I analyse events of this game, it turns out to be a story about how important unremarkable roles can be.
You know how often it happens in LARP - all those grand wizards, sages, kings and nobles go from place to place, do important decisions and move overall plot, while experience from small roles is often personal and doesn't affect grand scheme of things? Of course, it's not a sign of a bad game, but important roles are granted to people who have a high reputation in community, and it's pretty hard to earn status that will allow you to have such responsible positions. Having a personal experience is often more rewarding, but I think everyone wants to feel weight from their actions in grand scheme. And turns out that such possibility is not locked from you. Even actions of simple uneducated peasant can produce big consequences. In my case I didn't even try to be someone important, I just tried to do simple everyday things.
While there is enough things form this game I could tell, I will try to concentrate on events from premise and will give additional details if they will be important.
Aside from missing landlord, life in my village was quiet. My closest people in village were my brother (Curious fellow, who was specialist in coffee), his wife (Responsible and caring woman), auntie (Very friendly and welcoming person) and very charismatic uncle, who was also a village elder and potential candidate to own a village in place of missing landlord. There is also a prodigal brother of my brother's wife, who decided that life of a forest bandit is better than one's of a peasant. He often was a guest in my auntie's house, as a bandit's camp was not so far from the village. Everyone asked him to return to the family, but he was adamant about his choice. Nobody knew what he or any of bandits were doing, so his fate was always in mystery.
One day this poor fellow comes to me and says that he needs my help. "I need witness!", he pleaded.
> cont.

- What witness?,- I asked.
- I'm under suspicion! There was a murder. Women and her children were killed in a cold-blood. I didn't do nothing!
Now, a little note. Chief of bandits was a strange man. He tried to be a noble bandit and he kept his people in iron hands. He was very sensitive about justice and if someone did something bad to a simple man, he judged them personally. Bandits didn't liked it, but without Chief they likely wouldn't survive against the local lords.
- But I wasn't witness to this.
- True killer is captured in our camp. Just testify before Chief that it wasn't me.
- How do I know that you are not a killer?
- I may be a bandit, but I would never kill someone like that.
I resisted for a while, but then he pressed on family bond and I decided to help him. I followed him right to the gates of bandit's camp. He asked to let us in and bandits released drawbridge. When we walked inside, trial was still in process. Cousin led me straight to Chief. After little introduction Chief asked:
- Is this man a killer as your cousin claims him to be?
And then I saw accused. I was surprised to see a captain of guard. He, in return, was surprised to see me. OOC captain was a leader of fencing group I participated with, so I've stumbled for a moment.
- So? Will you testify?
I knew I was gonna feel bad about myself, but said anyway:
- It was him! I saw him heartlessly murdering this poor family! You have my word!
They didn't kill captain, but they've beaten him up, took his weapon and released him. I walked away with captain. He could be easily healed, but guard was poorly supplied at the time because of recent in-game events, so the loss of the sword was critical. To ease my guilt, I've decided to give him one of my swords I wanted to sell to caravan. He thanked me and proceeded by himself to town while I stayed at village.
> cont.

What is so special about this in grand scheme of things? Latter in game this town was besegied by monsters. Captain was one of the very few people to stand against them. He heroicly protected people with this very sword, when most of defenders have fallen. Unfortunatly, captain died because of wounds, but his sword became symbol of this heroic victory.
Should I continue next?

yes please

The actions of a local blacksmith(myself) a sober bard and an inkeeper driven to poverty caused a socialist revolution in a local Totally Not Game of Thrones LARP. :)

So, about uncle. He was pretty eccentric man for peasant liking. He had a strange sense of humour and unlike most of villagers, he had a gut to stand against oppressors. After landlord was gone, he took interest in replacing him. It may sound like a strange aim for peasant, but aside from him, other candidates were Chief (Who had a claims for noble origins), a really wealthy merchant (Who had his eyes and ears everywhere) and another noble, whom I didn't knew, because he was wiped by monsters latter on. So in the end no one was asking his origins and uncle happened to be actively involved in local affairs.
Auntie was very worried about him, because he went for far too long with all those high-ranking people. She asked me to find him to ease her heart. And also she asked to bring some oranges when he will return.
A little note. There was an interesting food system in game. Peasant got food by making imitations of plantations near houses and two times a day GMs observed state of plantations and gave food according to it. Also a lot of plants and trees in forest had things like little coffee beans bags and oranges sticked by GMs. It looked out of place, but was actually pretty neat.
And so I went in search of my dear uncle. I went in direction of town and after half an hour I saw uncle on crossroads with a big group of people. They were intensively discussing something. I called uncle and told him that auntie is worried. He came near me with a smile, and spread his hands as he wanted to make a hug. He took me closer and whispered in my ear:
- I have a message for Chief. "Caravan will pass soon. Be ready."
Then he walked away to crowd and I stood in a puzzled state until I realized what I had to do. I've prepared to go back, but before that I told loudly in direction of crowd so uncle will hear me from far away:
- Auntie asked oranges! Take care of yourself!
Then I walked away, but then I felt like I have to move fast, so I ran. Oh, what an idiot I was!

More of this, kind sir.

Now that's impressive. I see
>Two halberds
>A polearm
>Eight greatswords
>Enough shortswords to supply an entire army
>Assorted knives (throwing and normal)
>A bow with arrows
>Either well crafted fabric or a tower shield
>And one crowbar.

Damn, that's good.

I ran as fast as I could to bandit's camp. Drawbridge was standing, so I couldn't enter. I've shouted for them to let me in. They refused, so I said that I have important message from uncle. They didn't lower drawbridge, but Chief himself appeared on the wall:
- What do you want?
- I have a message, let me in!
- I'd rather not. Speak from where you stand.
I've recited what uncle said to me and Chief was pleased:
- Excellent. You are free to go.
I went back to village, but when I was out of sight of bandits from camp, a mysterious man with sabre appeared right before me:
- I'm afraid your mouth is too loud. Follow me.
Did I have a choice? I had to follow him. In the end he led me to mansion, where I was questioned by a little obese man in a fancy clothing who turned out to be influential merchant:
- Who told you about caravan?
A man with sabre gave me a menacing look.
- It was my uncle.
- Who is he?
- A village elder.
- Ah, now I remember.
- Please, don't do anything to him. He is just a fool, he does not mean any harm.
- Yet he deals with bandits.
Than he asked me about mysterious events surrounding village, discussed gained information with his bodyguard and released me.
I walked back to village. Auntie waited for me right on the road.
- Auntie, I'm an idiot! Because of me, uncle is in danger now.
She said that everything will be okay and we proceeded back home, where dinner waited for me.

And so, what influence did it make in a grand scheme? My mistake was followed by death of uncle, but I can't say for sure that it was orchestrated by merchant. His death led to failure of investigating a dangerous accident from village, that supposed to led to acknowledging a monster invasion.
"It's like a poetry, it rhymes."

actually it's
> 8 bellator (5 bellator I (refurbished ones), 3 bellator II which by all accounts are just hand and a half swords)
> 2 halberd, one is home made, other one is a calimacil head
> 16 prince
> one home made spear (glows in the dark)
> one sacrificial dagger (glows in the dark)
> one calimacil bow and arrows
> lots of random daggers, home made
> one shop dagger, can't remember where I got it
> one goldhammer dagger (east german larpfag lost it this year when he borrowed it from me)
> a club
> one custome made calimacil sword a long pirate blade and hybrid core, really like that one
> and of course the cock and swallow banner

And truth to be told not all of those are mine as most of it was part of a combined bigger order with me and my friends

ohh yeah and crowbar, forgot to mention that one

And now back again to Chief.
By the end of game, village became centre of events. A lot of refugees from city stayed here, and earlier passing priestesses of Goddes of Love organized a temporary shrine here. So, it was pretty crowded.
Because I was noticed in messaging about caravan to bandits, they became an active target for every faction. Chief wanted to endure this with honor, but his crew was fed up with playing politics, so they run away. They wanted to fight and pillage and eventually they were all killed by guard, mercenaries and monsters. Chief, however, was still alive and no one tried to assassinate him. As all atention was on village, so all political events moved there. Chief still had a hope to become a new landlord, but his only surviving opponent, merchant, was likely to win. I don't remember exact process of choosing new landlord, but it was somehow linked with some mysterious message from previous landlord, who, as I remember, appointed his heir in it, or something like that. I don't remember all the details, I was just a simple peasant.
Of course, new landlord was a merchant. He celebrated his victory and by the very end of game he went to talk to villagers about incoming taxes. He asked how much income do we have and what was the tax of previous landlord. Also I asked him about his funds. He was in high mood, so he told me exact number.
Little he knew, that while everyone was fighting each other, I've gained a lot of gold, because the only blacksmith on neutral territory was me. Merchant spent a lot of money on his campaign, so my funds were somewhat equeal to his. Who knows what could have happened if game continued?

And basically that's the story about consequences from actions of a small man. I hope it was worth your time.

What did you use as the core for your halberd? Im about to start mine and don't know if 1" thick 6.5' long is going to bend too much or not enough