War is Upon Us!

It's been two years since our last involvement in the ongoing conflict between Trimaris and Ansteorra. We have learned much since then, but we've also had trials untold that have prevented us from honing our skills as much as we would like. This year, I am not the General of the Meridian Rapier Militia. I'm simply another fighter taking the field in search of glory. But none of that matters. There is no room in our hearts for fear or mercy. Whether we go to victory or to ruin, we go with honor and with pride. Our blades are sharp, our armor shines in the sun and our banners fly proudly on the Southern wind. In two days time, we ride to War!

Fighting Focus

Last night's fighter practice held some interesting insights into my fighting. I was reminded of just how important the ability to focus really is. I find that if I don't maintain a solid focus, I tend to fight at a significantly lower level. If I'm just "playing around" I get sloppy. If I try too hard, same deal. There is a Zen state that must be reached to fight at one's best. A kind of sharp but diffuse awareness of your surroundings and opponent. You have to commit, but you also have to be loose and sort of "zoned out". It's an odd state to be in, but once your there, it's amazing. When I lose that state, I feel clumsy and out of control. And I lose fights. I realize that this is probably stating the obvious, but it was very much in the forefront of my thoughts last night.

About My Life

Life continues apace here, but little of it has been noteworthy. It's difficult to know what others will find interesting about my rather bland existence. Sure, I have an unusual hobby, but I can only say "I stabbed people. Again." so many times before it becomes routine. I can say that I recently got a new fencing mask and a new drape to cover the back of my head and make the mask look a little prettier. They are much better then my old ones, which were getting all kinds of worn out. We also invested in new gorgets (steel neck armor) which allows me to use the spaulders (shoulder armor) I bought a long while ago and never could get to work. Along with the gorgets, my wife bought new spaulders, too. So, her Cut and Thrust kit is more or less done. I just need some steel knee cops and maybe a gambeson. With Gulf Wars coming up (big week long event) I should be able to find those there pretty easily. I do need to adjust my bracers and the padding in my helm, but I hope to get to that tonight or tomorrow.

See, that's the kind of thing that we do around here. Exciting, huh? I could go on for hours about learning a new sword trick or how delivering this or that cut is good against such and such defence, but reading about such things isn't nearly as interesting as *doing* them. Part of me is tempted to start telling stories about our events from the perspective of my persona. Make it a work of fiction loosely based on real events. But I really wanted this blog to be broader than that. Unfortunately, I find myself unwilling to write about the day to day minutiae of my mundane life. I would hate to bore people.

Little Things

It's amazing how the smallest things can cause huge problems. Two spring to mind immediately. Germs, which have given my lovely wife a not-so-lovely chest cold and the ignition switch in my car, which locked up so badly that I had to get a locksmith to fix it. And by "fix it" I mean completely gut the little bastard so that you can now start the car with a screwdriver. Convenient, but not particularly secure. That's been the first half of the week. Can't wait to see what little things will kick my ass in the second half. Maybe I'll get mugged by a gang of freakin' midgets next.

Outside In

On the outside I am inside looking out, but inside I am outside looking in, trapped by fears learned early on, alone inside my hardened skin. Twisted into something that I had no wish to be, kept at a cold distance by the me that others see.

Frozen

The world is frozen. Snow and ice have locked down progress and movement for endless days. As outside, so inside. My mind, my spirit, down to my core, frozen solid. Locked in standby mode, hibernating, waiting for the thaw. Icy winds blow strong and fierce, stealing away the heat of creativity, of intellect, of will. A vast tundra of nothingness stretches away, flat, featureless and bleak. There is no hint of Springtime, no trace of warmth, no brave shoots of green growing things defying Winter's dominion. The light is a feeble and ineffective thing, weak and wavering, barely penetrating the crystalline mist that obscures my thoughts. My mind trudges on, weary and cold, to destinations seemingly unreachable, goals unrealized. The world is frozen.

Voices in the Darkness

What are we, but pinpoints of light floating like stars in the firmament? Lonely voices ringing out, seeking connection across the void. It is when our primal cries are heard that we gain meaning. Even a Universe, total and complete, is as nothing if there are none cognizant of its grandeur.