100 Min.

[kragore]

Actually, any. The ride down and back were the best parts.

It was a long drive to do what we do best - Stand around and wait. And while the weather wasn't horrible (downright tolerable once the armor was on) it was a lot of waiting. And waiting some more.

Because it was such a late start, (1:30, 2 pm?) we were fighting directly into the sun, until the sun went down behind the trees. I popped a guy right in the grill because I couldn't see what color tape he was. Turned out he was one of our own returning dead. Because of a general calibration creep, I made sure I popped him but good too, and immediately felt horrible about it.
Nothing was out of bounds. There were a lot of contested areas that were downright dangerous, and I'm frankly shocked we didn't loose anyone tumbling down the hill face into the lake. I get that I didn't have to play where I didn't feel safe, but that didn't stop others from playing there, and thus, made it contested, and the need to defend it. The site was full of fabulously leaf-masked ankle turning obsticles, one of which I discovered up close and personally. Drugs are awesome, but the foot's still swollen.
We won't even get into the hotly contested outhouse that we beat the shit out of, (har har), breaking the plumbing in the process, thus dumping an active hose into the fighting area which quickly turned into a slippery mire.

From the onset, a loose plan that been to form kill pockets at the breaks in the trees on *our* side of the tree line. But testosterone and the *get'em!* attitude overran common sense, and we wound up fighting in the shit all day. Brambles, grapevines, and an old tumbled down stone wall hampered footing and movement. Combat archery added to the frustration of finally getting through the crap, only to catch a bolt and have to go res again.
I should have taken out a spear, but I had my pole with me, assuming there was going to be more field melee, and less static line fight. Granted, it was easier to extract myself from the tangle of grapevines with the short pole.

At one point I found myself talking to a friend on our return from res saying "This is fun, right? Tell me this is fun, because right now this is not fun." His only suggestion was to change where in the line I was fighting.

Meh.

Fought through with one break for water though the frustration/desire to stop was high enough that I walked off the field at one point. But I can't leave the boys to keep at it while I pussied out, so I turned around and went back in for the last however long it was. Got a stinging inside wrist shot for my troubles that effectively ended my day. It's fine today, just hit the nerves and tendons just right.

I had been scheduled to guard from 5 until ?, found myself soaked from fighting, and now very cold since the sun went down. Got back to the car and stripped off the top wet layer to throw on a tunic and figure out where I was supposed to be. Finally found where I thought I was supposed to be, helped break down the pavilion, and then... ? No idea where the royalty was. No idea where I was supposed to be. Looked for them in the dark, No luck. Finally gave up, went back to the car and took off the sedond layer of wet clothes. I think I was finally getting my core warm about the time we stopped for dinner 45 minutes north of site.

I generally like melee, but this was one long obligatory slog.
With that introduction to 100 Min, I'll be thinking long and hard about going back any time soon.

Also looks from the event site that they won't be having the traditional spear tourney at Yule. Second guessing my decision to go.

Comments

[bytchearse.livejournal.com]

Ugh!

Oddly enough, 100 Minutes (years ago...) was the one event where I had the Worst Time Fighting Ever and never did that again.

RE Yule: Drop one of the 'crats a note and ask. We'll be there with apparently now THREE relative newbies in tow!