(and, yes, for those of you playing at home, “fort-AY” is how you pronounce the musical term “forte,” “fort” is how you talk about “Somebody’s strong suit,” also the part of your blade)

Last year I woke up on Saturday of Gulf Wars and an inner voice said, “I think you’re done.  You’ve had your war.”  I really had.  I had nothing left to prove, no stabbing left to do, so I figured I’d marshal the fort battle.
This year, what with the not stabbing anybody on Tuesday or Thursday, the sword was still calling my name, saying, “Pick me up.  Find somebody to devastate with me.”
“Alright,” says I to my sword, “Let’s go warm up.”

Up at the rapier field I found Trap and we proceeded to have the most painful warmup fight ever.  Basically, two grown men stood looking at each other and fighting as though the only thing they’d ever learned about fencing came from a movie.  Seriously, painful.  Trap said he was maybe giving his C game.  I was pretty sure I wasn’t even doing that good.  My fight was not so much USDA Choice as the green stuff on sale for half price in the barely-functional cooler.  Not promising for the rest of the day.

There was more fighting, it didn’t really improve, it was time for gyros.  Then, the Fort.  Oh the Fort.  As mentioned earlier, when things are run stupidly, I bristle.  I bristled.  Again.

Take, for instance, the first scenario: Unlimited rez for both sides, 10 minute battle.  Win condition: “Most fighters in the fort at the end of 10 minutes.”

Overall layout: The Fort is… like… Fort-ish.  There’s a main entrance, a sally port on each side, and a crenalated wall containing it all.  Or, better yet, there’s a map:

We weren't using New Gate

Attacker’s rez point was outside, to the northeast.  Defender’s rez point was a little back from the line between the two ports, inside the fort.  Recall the win condition.

“Well, maybe the marshal just wanted to make sure everybody got enough fighting!” the charitably-hearted might suggest.  Hogwash.  If that’s your concern, run that sort of thing at the end of the day, not at the start of the day.  All it does at the start of the day is make your fighters spend 20 minutes running back and forth from rez point, in the sun, getting worked up and overheated.  Might as well say “Maybe the marshal just wanted to make the fighters less safe.”  Damn, I’m a cranky old man.

The marshal also violated a couple of my key tenets:

• It seemed like he hadn’t planned anything and was making it up as he went (and if that’s the truth, it’s a good thing I didn’t know because I would have started trying to knock him off the marshal’s platform with my mask)
• He did not corral and communicate with the fencers well at all (stood on the platform above the main gate, shouted at the inside fighters while the outside fighters got bored, then shouted at the outside fighters without making sure they were all paying attention first, answered questions without passing on the question and the answer to both sides)
• He did not communicate well with his marshals to make sure they were all on the same page
• He changed the rules mid-way through scenarios (which, as some know, hits my big red trigger button)

Anyway, the other scenarios were variations on limited rez capture the fort, “sneak attacks” into the fort, and White Scarves vs. World.

Okay, so that’s out of the way.  Now, the good things…

As with most fort battles (see: La Rochelle) there was a higher proportion of newer fighters, which meant I got to play.  A few times I set up with one of these fighters next to me, and used the pretty white scarf to entice somebody in to attacking me, so that the newer fighter could get the kill.

Also, unlike La Rochelle, you could climb in the crenellations.  Doing so was stupid because you could not be sneaky about it and would be guaranteed to be outnumbered (and in one instance, as soon as your feet hit the ground my sword would be in you).

However, if you were a defender you could also jump out of the crenellations, and this was the real tactical advantage.  The indents south of the two sally ports, and on the northeast edge (if there was nobody at rez point) provided blind spots where a fighter could exit the fort and come up behind the attackers in the doorways.

In my first such run I went out the northeast indent and came around on the attackers at the Black Widow’s Breach.  I DFB’d and killed at least half of them, two or three more were tangled up in the breach, one was legged, and another one was in the backfield and turned to engage me.  “COME OUT OF THE BREACH!” I yelled.  Or, sort of yelled.  That walking pneumonia thing had robbed me of most of my voice for two days.  I yelled again, fighting off my attacker, and heard somebody inside yell, “Don’t go out the breach!”  The WTF moment of it all (Was ANYBODY paying attention to the outside of the fort?) froze me, and I died.  When I rezzed and came back to the sally port I asked who had called that out, and told them, “That was a stupid order.”  I felt a bit of remorse at the scolding, but not an overwhelming amount.  Situational awareness, people!

Other runs were more successful.  I cleaned the opposition from Alexandria’s Breach and pushed on to the main gate towards the end of one battle, and in other instances occupied reinforcements long enough for defenders to clear out the attackers at breaches.  Mostly this required me dying and rezzing after a lot of “Hey look at me!”

Lesson learned: Situational awareness, people!

After the first scenario or two I realized that the defenders were losing more fighters to engagements through the crenellations (which gained nothing), and began ordering our fighters, when defending, to stop engaging at the crenellations and make the enemy come through the choke points where we could kill them easily.  Same rule goes for La Rochelle now.

Lesson learned: Don’t fight through the crenellations, make them die in the breach.

The “sneak attack” scenario had most of the defenders in “barracks” around the rez point, except for pairs of guards at each gate.  The attackers could come in to the fort (“fortified town”) unmolested, until one of the guards saw a gun or a sword held by the handle, or a shot was fired.  We were defending first, and the attackers all filed into the central area until the last one shot the gate guard.  At which point the defending guards, en masse, exited the barracks.  The attackers were in a line, exposed in the open, with their flanks unprotected.  The opening volley from the defenders tore up the line, and attackers fell in upon the flankers (I pulled the Wistric maneuver: Joined the attackers’ line, stepped forward a step, turned, got their attention, and killed them.  And because Gulf Wars has “Line Engagement” on the rules, I was then engaged with the entire defending line).  The attackers ended up pocketed back in a corner and were boned.

When our team was attacking, we opted to kill the doorway guards immediately (guaranteeing six dead defenders with limited risk of loss for our team), and use the relative cover of the ports to engage the defenders.  Also, as they exited the barracks, their flanks became exposed to our sally port attackers (one of which, on the Black Widow’s Breach, was Raphael, Greylond, and me) who then were able to crunch their line from both ends.

Lesson learned: Use surprise to kill your enemy.

At one point in one of the battles, we were engaged at the Black Widow’s Breach and Raph said “Wistric, go check out what’s going on at the other breach.”  I looked, and there were no fighters visible there.  They’d vanished.
I hustled over and looked out to see that about eight defenders were strung out along the wall of the fort, pressed against it by equal numbers of attackers.  They’d pushed out of the breach when they gained a brief numerical advantage, and had been caught out in the open when the attackers rezzed in force.

“Back in the fort!” I yelled.  Two of the defenders fell back to the mouth of the sally port and blocked it so the other six couldn’t get in.  “NO REALLY, BACK IN TO THE FORT!” I yelled, and eventually harangued them all until they let the last fighter (Davius) in, with only one fighter lost.  I knew Davius knew better, so I told him, “Don’t let that shit happen again,” and headed back to the other sally port.

I think this was when Amanda (the lady who fights from a wheelchair) said to Letia (her “horse”), “He doesn’t play well with others, does he?”
“No,” she said, “he does, he just has a big mouth and likes being in charge.”
Yeah, Letia’s known me way too long.

White Scarves vs. World

Guess what? I wasn’t “World”!  First time!  Trimaris Hawke was there, and we squee’d about that just a bit.  Then the Atlantian white scarves took up the defense of the Black Widow (we just liked that port, okay?).  The Atlantian “World” showed up at this gate, too, so we got to have fun.  One of Greylond’s students was there, so we kept ordering him to “Lunge!”  He declined.  Then I tried  “Greylond says he’ll make you his cadet if you lunge!”  Still nothing.  Oh well.  Letia was in the center of the breach, commanding, and she also wouldn’t lunge.  Just no fun whatsoever.  Meanwhile, Raph was kiting fighters into the breach where he could get them, except every time he got one close, Trapon or I would lunge at them and scare them back, forcing him to start over.  Eventually he said to the fighter, “Look, come here!”  The fighter said, “No, those guys will attack me!”  “No they won’t,” Raph said.  “We won’t, we promise,” Trap and I both said.  And then Raph got him.

There was some goobishness from other white scarves that did not reflect well on our brotherhood, but I’ll let others address that.

It was also great to see the King of Trimaris (and is he a Miami surfing hippie or something?) fighting alongside us.  The last fighter was Amanda of the Horse, and His Maj requested single combat and fought her from his knees.  It was pretty awesome to see.

Then we headed back campward, dropped the tent and threw it in the van, and hit the road home.

Early on in the week Her Majesty Padraigin stopped me with her sweetest voice and asked, “Oh Wistric, is your foot broken?” “No, Your Majesty.” “And are you obligated to fight for any other Rose in the Rose tourney?” “No, Your Majesty.” “And is there anything else that would keep you from fighting for me at the Rose tourney?” “Just walking pneumonia, Your Majesty.” “REALLY?” Well, yes, really.  Ish.  All of Little Kberg had seemingly contracted a horrifyingly rotten upper respiratory viral infection at about the same time, so Letia and I were still coughing damp, tubercular coughs throughout war.  “But it couldn’t keep me from fighting for you, Your Majesty.”
After last year’s miscommunication, and having been on a bum foot at Pennsic’s Rose Tourney, I felt I really still had to make it up to her.  Also, fighting for The Queen is extra doubleplusgood.

Tuesday evening, when dropping off the scarves for Giacomo and Roland, her Majesty had nudged me, again, about it.  Master Alan was there, giving me crap, and said something to the effect of “I think it wouldn’t be acceptable if you didn’t make it at least four rounds.”  “Master Alan, how many rounds did you make it last year?” I asked.  “I think it was nine.”  “Very well, then, Your Majesty, I shall make it at least nine rounds.”

I warmed up with Letia, and had nothing in my legs.  I just couldn’t lunge, and so I was a little worried.

My first round  was against Captain Elijah Cameron.  He was a lefty.  I drifted my guard to the inside and he tracked to his inside, then when he initiated an action I cavazioned to the outside and landed a little bit of a stiff shot to his face.

My second round was against Captain Tristram.  I threw a lunge for his center line and came up short (see above about the legs).  He countered and took my right arm.  I fought lefty and threw a couple of more attacks, but all came up short until he killed me (maybe took my other hand, can’t recall).  Damn.  That four rounds was looking like it’d be difficult, much less nine.

So I went over to a shady spot, tucked my feet into diamond pose, and rocked some pranayama until I could feel my heart beat and my mind was focused (also, the diamond pose helped stretch out the quads and get blood into my legs).  This losing thing would not do.  As Ella observed when I walked back to the field “Ooo, somebody’s got his grr face on.”

My next fight was Don Ceallach.  I pretty much dictated that one.  I launched two unanswered attacks that he just voided, then a third with a cavazione to the outside and landed on his face (I use it because it works).

Next round was Lady Christiana Ivarsdottir, or as Davius put it: “That’s my mom, so watch it!”  Apparently, Christiana is the lady of his Don.  The fight was a simple and direct affair, I shut down the center line and was able to get a counter into her torso.  Hey, look, four rounds!  Just five more to go…

Then was Baron Ryan Dollas, my champions fight from last year.  It was good to see him again, and it went very similar to last time.  We’d brought the same weapons we had last year.  He was as fast on his feet as I remembered, and it still took me a lot of work to run him down, but eventually I did.

Next round was Trap.  I don’t quite remember how it started, but it ended with me in a high quarta, angling my blad back to place my tip on his gorget and trying to get the angle to apply pressure while blocking and squirming to avoid his counters.  Eventually it stuck, and I had just three rounds to fulfill my promise.

And then I pulled Hawk.  I played into his game, and when my weight shifted forward a little bit he took my foot (you’d have thought Dante would have taught me not to do that).  Grounded, he set to work and eventually I was dead.  Seven rounds, not nine.  Crap.

Self analysis time: If I’d done my pranayama, got my grrr face on, before the tourney started, I’d have survived my second round, and been able to shrug off the loss to Hawk and still be in the tourney.  Lesson learned.  Then I got to watch good fighting.

At that seventh round, at least a third of the field (10 or 11 out of 30 or so) was Atlantians.  That was just pretty.  And they continued not to suck.  Against Edwin the Lame, Mattheu parried a descending chop with a low void and high quarta counter-lunge that was straight out of a plate.  Somewhere in there I think Aedan dropped Hawk.  And when there were three left, it was Aedan, Mattheu, and Don Symone.  In the three-way semis, Mattheu went out, then Aedan beat Symone (who had beaten Aedan once in the tourney, and once in the semis three-way).  Not a bad day for Atlantians at all.

After that, we went to waterbear for the heavy fighters in the field battle, and got to watch Atlantia get crunched, then do the crunching, then take one for the team while Trimaris and the Mid swamped the rest of the enemy.  There were some enemy archers who got caught in the open field and I think they were reminded about the ravine battle, in case they’d forgotten.

That night was the Knowne Worlde Party where, again, there was C&T at the barrier by torchlight.  I think I’ll run that as a Pas at War of the Wings this year (except for the not being a C&T marshal part.  Hmmmm… I wonder if I can find one).

Avid readers of the Warfare with good memories will recall that last year’s ravine battle was a grueling slog with a rez run that was uphill both ways that led to exhaustion and frustration, and a notable incident resulting in the rule that “Wistric is not allowed to speak to anybody from another kingdom”.

Understandably then, when we asked Raph which flag we were taking and the answer was “Go straight up the center and take their rez point” we were much cheered.  No hills.  No baking in the one part of the field that’s not in the shade.  Just a straight run forward.  “And every time you touch their rez point and make it back alive,” he added, “Trimaris will give you cookies.”  He may have said “A box of cookies.”  Our plan was clear.  Our motivation was clear.  Murdering would happen.  Cookies would happen.  We would not just defeat our enemy, we would humiliate them.

Before the battle, they counted up again, and Her Majesty Ansteorra said “I will fight with the army I have.”  Meanining the numbers were about 200 to 100, in Trimaris’s favor.  Which made Wistric happy, not because he likes having huge number advantages, but because it meant none of the goofiness that happened prior to the field battle.

At Lay On, then, Atlantia ran forward.  Trimaris was to our left, Glenn Abheann to our right, and I think the Mid was somewhere in there, too.  We arrived at the central flag after Ansteorra had taken it, but before they could flip it (the flags were an ingenious timer system like a chess clock which I wish all wars would copy.  Victory was total time ownership), and started walking them back.  About halfway to rez point there was a large bush, and around this is where the lines stabilized.

Giacomo took up sergeanting duties, keeping everybody in line.  This meant that we’d open holes, but not do anything with them, which while the RIGHT thing to do, was still frustrating, and ultimately boring.  I looked around and noticed Lily was holding the flag, and figured she’d benefit more from being on the line, so I spelled her for a while until Giacomo sent somebody to relieve me.

About then is when I remembered our orders: Get cookies.  So I told Raph I was going for cookies, and set up in the line to wait for my opportunity.  It came, I stepped through to their backfield, and headed uphill away from the fighters returning from rez, but also away from their rez point.  I ran out of field, still hadn’t seen the rez point (I should mention I don’t wear glasses when fighting, so my long-range vision suffers).  There was a group of fighters leaning on a tree.   I headed towards them, but saw the tree had no tape on it.  “Where’s their rez point?!” I asked.  And they pointed to it.  Yes, I used the third person possessive.  Luckily, this did not seem to clue them in.  I trotted down hill, came up on the rez point from behind, tagged it, and headed back towards the line at a jog, passing rezzing enemy fighters.  I was tempted to stop and kill them, but that just felt too evil.  Also there was no DFB, which meant it’d actually take effort to kill them.  Also also, I only got cookies if I made it back alive.

This moment of indecision was caught on camera:

Somewhere in this picture is a Wistric where he really doesn't belong

So I continued jogging towards my line, yelling “YOUR TEAM!” and holding my swords vertical.  They parted, let me through, and I found Raph and yelled “I GET COOKIES!”  And I did.  Not a box, but two cookies.

After that ordered me to go help out Alric if he needed it.  After the field battle, a lot of the Gleann Abheann command staff was totally gassed, and they had asked if we could help since a lot of their force was relatively inexperienced.  Raph asked if I had any thoughts (“And no, I’m not sending you to command our allies!”) and I suggested Alric, ‘cause he’s a damn fine field commander and a Marxbruder.  He’d been up there holding the flag and keeping the line in order all battle.  When I trotted up he said, “Go up there on the right flank and fix that.”  I looked and saw that the extreme right was fading back under pressure, but even by the time I’d gotten up to it the pizzled horde (what does one call a Gleann Abheannian?) had stabilized itself and was pushing back, which meant I got to stand there and yell “Kill!” and pretend I was telling them to do anything they hadn’t already been doing.  I looked around and realized their opposition was the Black Tigers and Meridies.  Not too shabby a performance.

I shuffled back down the line a bit and saw Jack Marvell coming up, so took up station across from him and said “Hey, Jack, single combat?”  He assented, we told our teammates not to interfere, and set up to fight.  Then the fighter to his right charged the fighter to my left, so I stop thrusted him, the fighter to my right took a shot at Jack, the fighter to his left took a shot at me, and then Jack killed me.  Oh well.

After that the battle was about getting Atlantians cookies, at least for me.  I’d form up with Mattheu, Letia, and Marius, wait for an opportunity, and push through the enemy line.  The first time we did this, Corbin was reinforcing against us, and dropped me with a quick lunge, but I got to watch Marius and Letia go have fun.  The second time a fighter from the line engaged me as I tried to push through, but the Atlantian Delivery Service had already succeeded and mayhem was caused.

At the end of the fighting, I think the result was that Ansteorra never held a flag.  Sucks for them, I’ve been there and know how frustrating that fight can be, but the fighting itself was great, and not nearly as problematic as last year.
Then we all went to court.

Court
I showed up a little late but still got to see the awesomeness of:
Marius getting his Sea Dragon (finally!)
Letia getting a Shark’s Tooth for her fighting in the Ravine (woot!)
Alric getting an Opal for his service, AND getting a Shark’s Tooth for his command of Gleann Abhann.

None too shabby.  Congrats to all of them!