I Kid Thee Not: ‘The Bells of St. Trivium' by Viscount Yannick of Normandy, OP

A long time ago, in an Abbey far, far away….

A noble Prince and Princess took their retinue and set out on their travels from the North Lands to their seat on their beloved Dragon Isles. Their journey was long and arduous, and oft made on the wrong side of the bridleway amid much shouting and rancour. They did eventually pause, seeking succour in the Abbaye de Marche-les-Dames, to rest their horses and to recover their capacities before continuing their journey home.

They were met with the most wonderful generosity and warmth by their hosts in the Shire of Trivium. The Abbaye de Marche-les-Dames showing signs of great age, was still a most impressive and beautiful building. A very fitting place to take Royal refuge.

The warm hospitality of the people of Trivium was enjoyed in full measure by the whole retinue. A certain Princess, was encouraged to indulge in a wine ‘tasting’ come the evening. The Ladies of the Rose being of great service to the Princess, did proceed to get her totally Hammered and ne’er a one did retire to bed until the birds were loud in their morning voice.

The Prince being a more elderly sort, had himself retired to bed at a reasonable 2am, His inner Kilmister being vastly ashamed. The Prince was therefore up quite early to take his morning constitutional. A steady stroll around the grounds and gardens in the warm morning sun, with only birdsong for company. The peace and tranquillity was intoxicating.

The good Prince had walked a half a mile or so when the Abbey bells started to ring...

Dissonant, Random, Continuous bells. They were loud, even from that great distance. Any tune they once played, any harmony they once possessed, long since lost to the mists of time. The cracks and fault-lines in the bell castings giving great distortion to the tones. The bass notes were remarkably impressive, they could be felt deep within the soul rather than just simply heard.

Seeing this as a good sign that the kitchen staff ought now be busy warming their pans; The prince set off back to the Abbey on the hunt for bacon.

Upon arriving back at they Royal Suite some twenty minutes hence, with the bells still in their full dissonant flow; the Prince discovered that the bell tower was in fact, right outside the Royal Dormitory window. The open window that wouldn't close. The Prince was amused to find the royal retinue with their heads under pillows crying a muffled “Noooo...” and a Princess looking slightly less than regal, with mad orange hair. A vision in Moomin Jammies standing in the ancient doorway, one hand holding onto her head, the other pointing an accusing finger at him. The vision ranting “Make it Stop!, Make it Stop!”, “You did this to me...!”

Not having a head full of angry demons, The Prince looked smugly amused.

The bells rang for a full hour, The Prince was Very much entertained.

There was no bacon.

Based on true events.

Names have been omitted to protect the guilty.

You know who you are!

History of Drachenwald: ‘Why the Dragon Has Its Tail Between Its Legs: Or, A Tale of How the Drachenwald Arms Came To Be' by THL Ommadan inigena Ru, OM (East Kingdom)

When I first arrived at Ramstein, Germany in AS XIII, being 1978 CE, stationed there with the U.S. Air Force, I found myself in the Protectorate of Thairis -- the East Kingdom's European holdings. Change was afoot, though, to sweep away some of the old and bring in the new, starting with a new name: Drachenwald. New arms would be needed for the new name, and it was decided to hold a contest. Being something of an artist as well as a budding armorial herald at the time, I figured I would give it a shot. What was the worst that could happen -- people wouldn't like my design, right?

So, the arms. Drachenwald in those days was largely based in Germany, so I chose the colors of the German flag: gold, black, and red. It made sense to me to make the field gold, and the other elements red and black, because I felt a field division might confuse it too much with the German flag. 

The name itself dictated the rest of the design, a dragon in the woods. Pine trees were what I decided to use, since most of the woods I had seen around Ramstein were coniferous. I drew them eradicated, with the roots torn, and decided to make them red and keep them simple in design, because I liked the look and figured a black dragon on red trees would offer better contrast. 

The dragon's design came from a book on heraldry; somewhere I had read that the typical German depiction of a dragon was cowed, with its tail between its legs, and this particular dragon was in fact described as a German dragon. Besides, I loved its overall look. So on it went, making sure it was sized so that a good portion of it was on the gold field in order to follow the heraldic rules of contrast. Voila!

I was pretty happy with the result. Now to see if the populace of Drachenwald liked it as well.

I don't remember where the contest was held specifically. There was one other design besides mine in the competition, and again memory fails me as to what it was or who submitted it. When it came time for a hand count, I didn't put my own hand up for either design -- I didn't want to come across as beating my own drum or voting against myself. But when I saw all the other hands shoot up at my design, I was beyond happy. I WON! My design, with the addition of a laurel wreath, was going to be the arms of the new Protectorate of Drachenwald. 

My original design still lives on in the Drachenwald populace badge. I hope you all like it as much as I still do.

Courageous Challenges and Desperate Duels: ‘The Five Duels of Raglan - A tale of caution and consequence' by Lord Guy de Dinan

1

There dwelt a Lady of innocent repose but loose tongue

Whose name is nameless, yet her thoughts careless slung

Of temptations of the flesh, and carnal hope

She professed, and was called 

Trollope

2

Now in this company there was a swordswoman that

Would match blade skill with the instinct of a cat

She riled herself up, hissing at the Man 

Little realising he was called

Guy de Dinan

3

Pray Sir, to this Lady, deliver your apology

Forthwith, or else by the marks of horology

I will show you are in aereo

For I am called

Alessandra De Riario

4

I will not take the demand from the like of you he said

This is little but the wind from the Med

I shall pin your body to a tree!

For insults on my home called

Italy

Chivalrous Acts and Unwise Challenges: ‘Remember to Specify' by Lady Alessandra di Riario

In a small town in the north of the Principality lived a bravado who took great joy in battle but lacked humility and was given to crowing which wars had they been in, which tournaments, which great lords they challenged and what a beating had been given. Being proud and quick to wrath, though of great courage, and sometimes esteeming fighting over learning, this bravado did not always remember to tell that it had been given to them. All day this bravado was out talking and swinging swords, prattling of which great list they might enter this week, next week or the next month and whom they would defeat, forgetting to do what they had been told to practice, and bemoaning not having the finest clothes to fight in and to sit drinking at feast after. 

Now it happened that in the next town lived a seamstress who passed the bravado when she came to market or went to see tournaments or attended great feasts, for her work was fine and she had sewn even for the Queen herself. This seamstress heard the great boasting and occasional pellwork and thought, “Truly this must be a noble of high rank and great skill if they can afford to talk more and practice less. I can make fine clothes of brocade and silk wool from Flanders. I can sew finest linen for shirts to dress them for battle.” And so the seamstress asked the bravado what clothes were wanted and the bravado replied saying “all of them.” And the seamstress, being of wit as well as beauty, replied saying “that is as well, but they must be paid for”. “Of course” replied the bravado and brought out a great purse and said “there will be more once I have finished the next tournament”  And the seamstress took the purse and began sewing and soon the fine clothes were brought and were received with great joy.