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 Post Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2012 9:08 pm 
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Location: Fort Worth, Texas
Dearest AMTGARDian's;

There has been a lot of talk about the 'spirit' of AMTGARD and where it is going with the progression of time. For everyone, the perspective varies greatly. As a Satyr, I love to listen to how people feel, how this amazing lifestyle affects each of us, individually, and what makes each of laugh, smile, cry, etc.

I listen to the stories people tell from years of being AMTGARDian's, tales of the things they've seen, the schemes they've plotted, and the disasters that have resulted. Frankly, I am hooked! I want to hear more. And, I want you to WANT to tell me more!

So, here's the deal - I'm offering initiative to you, dearest AMTGARDian's to take the time to record your experiences. I don't care how long they are; I don't care how short. They can be happy or sad or everything in between. If you want to inform me of something, they can be educational, so long as they are not text-book, put us to sleep lecturing-type. The crazier, the better! I don't care if they involve booze or explicit themes. I'm a Satyr, I'm not delicate! Whatever story inspires you, elicits emotion, and vividly recalls strong memories and even stronger creativity in you..... ENTER IT!

There ARE NO RULES! Enter 1, enter ten, enter twenty, 100, whatever! Make them fancy, make them plain, write in prose, write in lyrics, keep them legible and preferably in a language SOMEONE other than you can read! If I have to bring in a translator, so be it, just no dead languages, please! And, I don't speak any of the Fey languages nor do I really want to have to track down a Faerie, Drow, Dworf, etc.... Other than that, have at it!

In all honesty, I'm being selfish, here. I want to hoard your memories and cherish them as you do. And, if I just go up to someone and say "speak" I might get on their nerves. So, I'm making this win-win. You get to compete and win prizes. I get to hear a plethora of amazing events that happened to the people I now call family! I might even share a story or two of my own (just for the fun of it).

If you have any questions, go to this link to ask. Otherwise, this thread is for stories only! (viewtopic.php?f=55&t=7421)

Thank you and sincerely,
Zelodie
Kingdom Regent


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 Post Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 11:26 am 
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I’m preparing a story inspired by “The Impotence of Proofreading.” He wood be famous won day for the tail of the valiant night who road though the dark nite into a forrest fool of tearers and rouges . . .


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 Post Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 12:11 am 
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Rise and Fight Again


Once upon a time in a land so hot that the very ground was ablaze with white fire and the sands that blew on the western winds could tear flesh from bones within moments.

During the high season of Sol, the golden orb was so mighty that it would boil away the rains leaving great cracks of scorched earth that stretched out along the horizon as far as the eye could see.

In these burning lands, there existed a young society of warriors, wizards, healers, barbarians, assassins and all manner of creatures from myth and legend across the known realms. Within this small kingdom, there rode the Knights of Amtgard...

Elite fighters, artisans and statesmen, these nobles strode through the populace with pride and honor and yes with arrogance as well.

Many were the deeds they would perform...
Both for good and for evil.

Respected and feared by all who would meet them...
and yet to become one of them was the dream of every aspiring Amtgardian from lowly peasant to high and mighty King.

These Knights held the field and held the court by holding the hearts of
the people themselves.
"Oh, to be a Knight...!!!" you can still hear it echoed today, though without the magic that it once held...

I can remember when I first saw the three great Ant-paladins in their prime and glory...

The land was scorched from the long battles, on this field so close to the gates of Hell itself. The tress grew in sparse groups, their twisted limbs mimicking the wicked souls that fought against the goodness for dominance over this world.
A hot wind blew dust into the eyes of the novice assassin, as he stood at the foot of the large hill where gathered the vast army of good, waiting to charge down into the valley and crush the evil uprising which had began years before. Delphos gripped his axe in his left hand and drew a dagger from its sheath with his right, as the sounds of spells being cast began all around him. At once the air shimmered with power and the forces from the hill came rushing down in front of him.

In a single movement, he threw his dagger into the chest of a figure in white. Though he knew his aim was true, the warrior continued to rush forward. Delphos quickly drew another dagger, but before he could even throw it, the warrior dropped his sword and fell to the ground, a deadly wound to his side. Then another warrior in white fell, bleeding from his leg.
Through the dust, the assassin could see three figures cutting through the enemy lines like blades of grass. The first was clad in black armor, holding a shield in his right hand and large sword in his left. His hair was bright red in the sun and he laughed as he killed another fighter in white. The next figure heading up the hill was in gray with a black phoenix upon his chest. He fought with a sword in each hand, his blonde hair waving wildly with each cut of his blades. The third was tall and pale, his dark hair covered his face as he stabbed one enemy, blocked a sword cut with his shield and quickly sliced the wielders arm from it's body.
The three continued up the hill, cutting down every defender that stood against them.
Within moments the cry went up... "CORSAIRS !!!" "CORSAIRS !!!"
Delphos looked on in awe as the entire contingent of good turned and retreated up the hill to save their own lives from the trio of Anti-Paladins. The dark army itself seemed to step back to give them room. The one in black armor and flaming red hair walked over to the body of dead officer, kneeled down and put his left hand on the lifeless corpse and began to chant. As the voice grew louder, Delphos could hear the words...
"Rise and fight again"

At once the body of the fallen officer sat up, then stood and picked up his weapons. His face was pale and his movements were stiff, but his wounds did not bleed. The Anti-Paladin spoke more words to the officer and he walked back to the ranks to attack the enemy line again. The other two Knights had also done the same.
The words echoed across the battlefield...
"Rise and fight again."
"Rise and fight again."
"RISE AND FIGHT AGAIN !!!!"


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 Post Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2012 9:58 pm 
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Once upon a ditch at Salt Wars . . .
The bout was winding down as the last few stragglers were rounded up and slain. And I spied across the field two meek young newbies facing big, bad Brennon and shuffling backward in fear and uncertainty. Irritated with the holdup, I sauntered down the line and strode between the two shieldsmen, myself fighting Florentine and figuring three of us might have a better chance against such a fearsome foe. Courageously I stepped forward, confident it (my life) would all be over soon. And those nitwits stayed put, rooted to the spot by terror and incompetence. Before I even had a chance to think or to chastise them for such cowardice and leaving a lady high and dry, I deftly swung and struck true, stabbing the mighty warrior in the heart and winning the match. Huzzah!


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 Post Posted: Sun Sep 02, 2012 6:46 pm 
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Glimmering Night

Drawn by the deep-booming beat of hand drumming,
My feet led the way through the inky black evening
To the welcoming glow of a crackling blaze
Encircled by timeless rites of revelry.

The upbeats tick-tapped clearly as I drew near
And soon heard the shink-tinkling of shiny gold coins
Adorning the hips of a shimmering, jeweled dancer
Who stepped, twirled, and drop-popped in flawless time.

A flourish and flip of her gleaming blond hair
Lit up the dark with sizzling charm and panache.
I watched in awe of her finesse finely winding–
Swirling skirts, jingling hips, undulations galore.

Myriad curves and soft form masked not her skill
As she layered shimmies like a glimmering gem.
She flowed with the grace of a lithe prima dancer,
Masterful isolations accenting each step.

Never before had I seen this sensuous dance
Which emanated from her as freely as breath.
Uncommon allure imbued with perfect poise
Bore evocative feminine force and command.

As the celebrations wound down to a whisper,
Soft shapes slithered into my imaginings.
I’d been marked by a beauty that branded my soul,
Inspired to new heights one bright night at Clan.

Image

This is the true account of the first belly dancer I ever saw perform and how she inspired me in 2005 to take up the art. Because the story content is my intended focus, I played loosely with the meter and chose to incorporate the poetic devices of alliteration, assonance, and consonance instead of end-line rhyming. Each line has 11 or 12 syllables except for 7 and 8, with “shimmering” meant to be slurred as 2 syllables and a brief pause after “popped.”

Original art by Unity (my sister)


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 Post Posted: Mon Sep 03, 2012 10:41 am 
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Very nicely done, the scheme is incredibly evocative. Could almost hear the dance by the end of the second stanza. Thank you for sharing!

Nettle


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 Post Posted: Tue Sep 04, 2012 10:17 am 
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Would've, Could've, Should've.


This story does not start in the TIT. This story is not just another role-playing story, although it does have a role-playing flare. But it’s a flare that comes from other people’s perception of my role in this particular story.

The setting is a Clan event some years ago. We were still using the Sleepy Grass area and the events at the time were huge. We filled the valley with 800+ attendees. And while most of us were adults, there were a number of young urchins running around as well.

So some time during the event there was a quest planned with a LOTR theme. I was asked to play two types of evil monsters during the quest, one being a Nazgûl followed by playing the evil Witch-King. At first I was a tad against it cuz I’m no witch. But after being reminded that “no living man can kill the Witch-King” I suddenly saw the fun in that part. But my role as the Witch-King wouldn’t be until the very end of the quest so I spent most of the game doing my Nazgûl thing. It was cool. I got to try and make deals with a lot of players in the little quest to find the “ring”. I was having a blast. I also had a few lesser Nazgûl hanging out with me. But at some point early in the game I need to separate myself from them so I could get my mind set in the right mode to enjoy the whole quest.

It didn’t take long for me to lose them and I set my path to climb one of the hills to find a little peaceful area in which to become one with my part. During my trek up the hill I suddenly heard the sounds of a young child in a serious state of panic coming from even higher up the hill then I already was. I stopped for a second to make sure of the direction of the sound and then leaped into action.

The climb up the hill was a toll to say the least. The bushes and other foliage were not making my quick assent any easier. As I forced my way thru the undergrowth in the direction I hoped was the correct one I could still hear the sound of the child in trouble. The closer I got the more I could define the noise and I was soon convinced that it was someone’s little girl in trouble. That little bit of information caused me to go into even a higher gear. My legs burned and my lungs ached as I climbed higher up the slope at a pace that would of killed a true smoker. I had no idea what sort of dangerous situation I was running towards. Was the child being attacked by any sort of the various wildlife that called that particular wooded area home? Was it a bear? Was it a mad elk? Was it a rabid skunk? I really had no idea, but more importantly I also didn’t care. By that time I was in full blown rescue mode. The sound of the panic in the child screams drove me further up the hill than I would of went on my own. Soon I was close enough to yell back. I let the child know that I was on my way. No jokes about “here I come to save the day” came up. No, “never fear Nevron is here” line was spoken. I really didn’t have the breath the spare nor was this one of those moments to use such comical lines.

Finally, after what seemed to me as an eternity I broke into a bit of a clearing on the slope and as I looked up I could see the young girl and she certainly could see me. The child was in the middle of some sort of collection of brambles and other grasping vines. She was stuck like Chuck. Had the scene been a tad Hollywood she would have been stuck in a huge spiders web and I would have had to slay the beast to save her. But alas it was just a bunch of clingy vines and such. Sure it was enough to scare the bejeebers out of the child (can’t say I blame her) but once I saw the situation as it was the wave of relieve that washed over me was immeasurable. While I did slow down during my final approach to the captive child I still made sure to reassure her that all was going to be ok. But first I had to catch my breath. The child was so relieved to see help arrive that when I sat down just outside the brambles to catch my breath she didn’t even mind. Soon her tears stopped and my breath was back to normal. During this time we spoke to each other like we were old friends.

“So how is your day going?” I asked the child.
“Its ok” she replied.
“Are you enjoying your Camping trip?”
“Oh yes, at least up until recently”.

In truth we spoke of things that I really can’t remember but mostly I was trying to calm her down. I did get to a point while I was freeing her from the entangle spell she casted on herself to ask her if she was with the Amtgard crowd and she said yes. When I asked her what brought her so far up the hill she said she was looking for the Elven camp and she was in the quest.

“Really, what part are you playing during this quest” I asked the child.
“I’m one of the Hobbits” she proclaimed proudly, followed by “I think I’m supposed to be at the Elven camp but I got lost”.

“Yes… yes, you certainly did” I replied with only a hint of evilness in my tone. After all, I just saved the child from any manner of cruel demise. The last thing I wanted to do was to let the little Hobbit know just how much further into the fire she had fallen.

As we sat there on the side of the hill, totally out of sight of any other Amtgardians or any mundanes for that matter, I realized that I was facing a major decision. Do I end the game and steal the hobbit back to my Clan camp until the quest masters notice the problem and search parties are called out? Or do I do the right thing and deliver the child/hobbit to her friends in the Elven camp below and let the quest continue?

I had the Ring. It was mine for the taking. The child/hobbit was going to be a friend forever. But the quest could be over in just a few more seconds.

Yes, I know what others would expect me to do.
Yes, I know what I could of done.

But no, I chose to do the right thing and taking the little girls hand in mine, she and I made our way back down the hill laughing and joking like we didn’t have the power to ruin the quest-master whole day.

To say the look on the faces of all the people hanging out at the Elven camp was one to remember would be the understatement of the year. Just imagine if you can, that you’re in a LOTR quest, playing an elf, safely tucked away in your Elven camp, when all of a sudden you see one of the evil Nazgûl walking hand and hand with the very hobbit you were suppose to be protecting. For me, the rest of the quest/game was nothing compared to being able to call upon the person playing the Elf King to come out and collect the hobbit. I’m sure none of the elves present had any idea to the good streak that was flaring up on my back at that particular time and place.

As I handed over the Hobbit, I told the Elf King that this was the one and only time I would place the game before my own desires. If I was to find the hobbit alone again the game would be over. With that said I backed slowly into the woods and continued my quest to clear my head before I went to join the battles below.


So ends this tale.


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 Post Posted: Tue Sep 04, 2012 1:21 pm 
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Haha, that's a fun one, Nevron. I really enjoyed it. :)


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 Post Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 11:30 am 
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Heheh, nice. Apparently, you really the oft mentioned Dark Saint, Sir.


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 Post Posted: Wed Sep 05, 2012 12:09 pm 
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I can tell a tale thats as unknown as that one and still makes me look like the bad guy as well. But for some reason that particular tale needed telling.


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 Post Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2012 1:22 am 
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Location: Fort Worth, Texas
Bring as many stories as you can carry!


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 Post Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2012 3:26 pm 
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I drank a lot back then…

This tale goes way back. Back to our 3rd reign. Back to the early days of Barad-Duin (Barren Ruins), which over time became the Celestial Kingdom. I was just a young Anti-Paladin then. Full of sulfur and brimstone. It was a time of Banner thefts, Fur vest theft, Green Weenies, Wolf Pack Pepsi Parties and lots of serious debauchery on all (if not most) of Amtgards part. Oh Yes… the good ole’ days.

During an event held in the Austin area hosted by Barad-Duin, during the early hours of Saturday night, I was sitting around someone’s fire listening to the nights bardic. Since the days of the 24hr lighted trench fields was still eons away there really wasn’t much else to do. At one point it was noticed by some fellow EH’ers that I was pretty much laying down (drunk) more than I was sitting up. They tried to get me up and moving but alas I was into my cup way too much. I was drunk. And my fellow EH’ers, being the concerned friends first and Amtgardians second took it upon themselves to roust me up and help me into my tent which was located some distance from where we were all sitting at the time. I know I darn well was not an easy move. I stumbled and weaved, I made them take a break so I could drown a thirsty tree, and I fought a strong verbal fight on my own behalf in my claim that I wasn’t drunk. But in the end I was placed into my tent and left to sleep it off.

But my tale doesn’t end there. No decent campfire tale would. Unbeknownst to my loyal and trust worthy friends. I was nowhere near drunk. In truth, I had hardly even drank that night. It was all part of my plan. My evil, let’s do something despicable plan. Or at the very least, let’s do something that even Dick Dastardly would be proud of plan. I suppose my Demon Lord was playing the part of my Muse that event and I had been planning the nights activities from early on in the day.

After my friends left me in my tent, claiming they had never seen me so drunk, I sat there for awhile making sure that all was clear then in a flash of movement I was clear of my tent and quickly disappeared into the dark night. The site of the event was covered in trees and had a lot of trails that led all around the site. I had noticed during the days battlegames that there were multiple trails that took me clear around the site without ever exposing me to the events crowd. Add that to the fact that it was a pretty dark and most of the events crowd were keeping to the better lit areas, so I had no real problem that night moving around the site without being seen by anyone. There were a couple close calls but the people were just not aware of the evil that sometimes lurked mere feet away. Ain’t that the way it always is? Good never see’s evil, until it’s too late.

I should say here that I do believe there is a difference between Amtgard game evil and let’s say… Charlie Manson evil. Game evil is done out of fun (for me at least). Manson evil is not the least bit fun and can be pretty costly. I come to this conclusion only after witnessing some of the early evil players of Amtgard at their best (worst?). Players like Zyax, or Morluk were great examples of such Game related evil.

So, there I was. Standing in the shadows of other shadows. Seeing all but very much unseen by all. At first I just circled around the event site looking for a sign of something to do. The possibilities were multiple. I really just had to decided on what evil task would fit the occasion. Since I am obligated by the Laws of Man to keep my evil deeds well inside the legal limits, and I really didn’t want to cause any lasting harm on any of my fellow Amtgardians, I knew my evil task would have to be as fun for me as it would appear to be evil to another. It’s a very thin line.

At one point, in the early hours of Sunday, I was standing outside a camp listening to the camps occupants ramble on about their own event experiences when one of the camp members said that he couldn’t find his mug or some other useful Amtgard item. After looking for it awhile he gave up and proclaimed that he would just have to find it in the morning cuz it was too dark to look right then. That was when I was struck in the back of my head by my own Demon Lord and I knew right then what I was supposed to do.

It’s absolutely amazing how much stuff people bring to an event. Mugs, dinnerware, banners, cloaks, shoes, chairs… OMG, the list does goes on. And while all of this stuff is needed and or desired at any certain time of any event, there is one time where most of this stuff is just put down and pretty much forgotten about until its use is useful again. That one time seems to be bed time. And at 4am most of the event attendees were already in bed or making their way there. I had a short amount of time before the first rays of the mornings sunlight would start to chip away at the darkness. Plus I still had to worry about being seen by the folks still moving about the event site. But that number was pretty small and getting smaller by the minute. So I started to sneak into camps. By the way, 4 in the morning is a good time to sneak. If you do run into someone, chances are, their sneaking too.

At first I would just grab the first Amtgard related item I came across and rushed quietly over to another camp nearby to drop the first item off and then grab another item and take it to yet another camp to just repeat the process over and over again. Soon I was taking stuff from one camp and leaving it in another far from its original camp. Then, at one point I found myself near the feast hall. Of course there was a ton of stuff left in there so the fun I was having just continued. Things that were left in the feast hall would find themselves clear across the event site in a strange camp. It’s a good thing I hadn’t drank that night cuz I worked up a powerful thirst doing my Demon Lords work. I may have borrowed a cold soda from more than one camp site that night. For that I do apologize. It’s never polite to borrow and use an item that you have no intentions to returning. But there has been a lot of water flowing under the bridge since that night so I don’t feel so bad about that now.

It was in the feast hall that I made my biggest and best discovery of an unsecured Amtgard item. Sitting close by the host kingdoms throne is where I found the Crown of Barad-Duin. Imagine that? The Crown of the hosting Kingdom just sitting there all by its lonesome self. I was shocked. Who goes and leaves such a treasure unguarded? Surely it was someone who cared so little about their Kingdoms crown jewels that they might as well left the Kingdoms coffers open as well. Granted, I’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth so following the nights plans this item too was marked for displacement.

But something as special as the Barad-Duin Monarchs crown needed much more than a simple spell of displacement casted on it. Oh the displacement was going to take place. There was no doubt in my evil twisted mind about that. But the location of its displacement and value of the place it’s to be re-located and then found at was an important decision. This was not something that could be left on a table far from the feast hall. No tossing it into a empty camp chair, or even placing it in the center of a much travelled trail. Nope, none of these places or conditions were worthy of such a prize. This prize of prizes needed to be lost and then found in a special location. One that spoke in volumes of subtle meanings. Plus… the hour was getting late and while it was still dark outside, the caterpillars had already started to drum their morning songs, and soon the birds would be awake.

As I wandered around the site looking for that ohhh so special place in which to leave my last prize I was suddenly aware of my own special calling to rid myself of those borrowed sodas. Sure there were trees everywhere, but I noticed my wandering had led me nearby the privies, and I thought what the hell, use them at least once while you’re here. So I started for the building. That was when I had that ultimate evil idea. You know, that one perfectly evil idea that caused not only chill to run down my back, but also allowed me to suddenly feel refreshed and added a little pep in my walk.

I would leave the host Kingdoms crown in their own bathrooms.
But wait… not just in any bathroom.
I would leave it in the ladies room.
In the handicap stall.
Placed carefully over the silver piping that lead down to the throne.

So for the second time at that event the Barad-Duin crown was once again left sitting near a Throne.


After my evening of fun and adventure I was pretty tired. Quickly I made my way back down to my camp area and after pulling out one of my own ice cold soda’s and getting myself a well deserved snack, I got comfortable in my camp chair to get ready for the morning chaos show of “where is my…”


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 Post Posted: Thu Sep 06, 2012 5:34 pm 
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..... See this is why I'm opposed to "No stealing, no exceptions, no excuses." ...... This is epic. A hell of a story. Probably highly entertaining and resulting in quite a few laughs at the end of the day. Maybe even some new friends made in the madness of recovery. The type of thing that has created your legendary character. Thank you for providing the tangible reason for my gut instinct.

_________________
Nexus Crow: "Please don't let your Amtgard titles be the only thing that's going for you....it's sad."

Dame Nightengael Bahuas
Nightmare of Artus Pass
Dragonmaster X XX XXX
Sable Pride Stormtrooper 66


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 Post Posted: Fri Sep 07, 2012 8:28 am 
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Nightie- Don’t get me wrong, but I have to somewhat disagree.

Just like the types of assassinations allowed (no highly salted foods, no stink bombs, no sharpies, etc…) have been slowly chipped away and we are left with no real imagination anymore. We now have to worry about how actions such as in my story will be seen by the total newbie. Besides, I really don’t think that what everyone calls or thinks of as “stealing” would fall under the category of what is described in my story. Granted, this is my own opinion. I have never, never entered anyone tent in my pursuit of Game Evil. I would never lift a person’s mundane stuff like wallets or Keys or anything even close to that. And on those rare occasions that I did perform a little displacement spell on Amtgard items I normally would just do as I said in the story and just move the items to another area. I know that I have recovered stuff from other less lawful personas and returned them to their rightful owner because in my eyes the Amtgard item in question was as special and costly as someone’s mundane items. In particular, a tunic of Chainmail was lifted by a fellow Wrong Crowd member at a Clan years ago and I managed to get the item back to its owner without anyone getting in trouble. Back at that time the practice of permanent theft was running wild. I know I have lost more than my share of items in the old days and while banner theft should be a part of our GAME it’s those players that take your banner home with them with no intent to return the item that the “no stealing” line should come into play.

Again, this is just my opinion, I could be wrong.


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