Foreword
This is the final installment of this particular trek. Thank you to all of you guys who have read this. I'm not trying to brag about my accomplishments or make it seem common place either. I merely followed a motto from someone I respect: "Deeds, not words." This is a path that some people may know well from a minor injury or a major set back like mine. It's the path to recovering the life you wish to live... or as closely as you can manage to return to there. I had something that I think most people don't have in place well enough when recovering from catastrophic injuries: a LARGE support group... it sure in hell felt like it was the ENTIRETY of the Eastern Kingdom pulling me up when I felt like lying down and giving up. My Haus mates, my Unbelted Champion brothers, and random people in the populace who talked to me when I was feeling down and out. That is something that has no monetary value, there is no finite set of attributes to assign to that kind of support. Whether it was Sir Culann, Duke Brennan, and others pulling my gear out of my hands at SRWC and walking ever so slowly with me back to make sure I made it, or it was Matthew working on me at Pennsic after getting a rib cracked in the bridges... I really don't believe I could have done this if I hadn't had this large network of support. I DO know for sure that I could never have done it on my own. I had, rather shamefully, admitted defeat when I was lying in the hospital bed. I was done. I'd wrapped all the memories of battles and fighting into a box and resolved to not open it again... for any reason... Not even to train people anymore. I was broken.
The reality however... was quite a different story, and this is kind of where this'll pick up.
The reality however... was quite a different story, and this is kind of where this'll pick up.
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| Breathing treatment and oxygen for me near the end of my stay. |
Recap of Part 2/TL:DR part 2
I was in the hospital. I was being told repeatedly in no uncertain terms that I had cheated death... and on a grand scale, not just a minor brush. I got out and other doctors told me the same things over and over again. I went through a downward spiral and started gaining weight and blood sugar became a problem.
Diabetes runs in my family and going to the grave from that scares me more than anything else I can think of right now. I decided to exercise at the gym and talked with a trainer and got a routine going. after almost 4 months... NOTHING had changed at all. I put vegetables back in my diet and I had a bit more energy... this is where we'll pick up. I'd cleaned my armor a bit and thought it was ready.
Diabetes runs in my family and going to the grave from that scares me more than anything else I can think of right now. I decided to exercise at the gym and talked with a trainer and got a routine going. after almost 4 months... NOTHING had changed at all. I put vegetables back in my diet and I had a bit more energy... this is where we'll pick up. I'd cleaned my armor a bit and thought it was ready.
May 2016
My first day back in armor was a Southern Region Melee Practice that was graciously hosted by the Iron Bog practice sight. I spent a lot more time standing in my armor just getting used to the weight and figuring out where the new holes needed to be punched in the straps. I rapidly discovered with this season being uncharacteristically hot and humid that my tolerance for heat and my capability to shed heat had become a major problem. I put myself in a 'reserve' position and did two runs of the scenario we were working on that day and then sat. I had to sit. I had no choice. I was EXHAUSTED. My stomach was feeling like it was going to purge it's contents. My legs and arms were trembling so bad, I didn't trust myself to even try a third. My chest felt like it was on fire and I could hear the blood moving through my my veins.
I sat until I felt like I could go again. I went back out and did another pass. I was exhausted again and had to sit for just as long. This went on for the whole practice. I ended up fighting maybe a total of twenty minutes out of the four hours and I was completely drained. I was overheated, and my body felt like it had been put through a meat tenderizer. I was dejected to put it optimistically. I had envisioned that I could at least kind of fuddle my way through an entire practice.
The next weekend, I went to the regular Iron Bog practice which is primarily a singles practice. I found myself evaluating who I would fight based on how likely they were to bruise me and ended up fighting a few light fights. I overheated again after fighting 3 or 4 bouts and had to strip my armor off, go into the building and lay on the cold cement floor and soak up the air conditioning to cool myself down. I was drinking water and it was coming out of me as fast as I was able to get it in myself. I spent about forty-five minutes moving occasionally as the floor warmed up under me and then got up and went back out and did a handful of bouts more. I got to the point of feeling like I was going to throw up again and couldn't shake the feeling, so I called it quits.
The next weekend was Roses. The event had moved locations, and I decided to day trip it instead of doing the camping thing. I was fired up and nervous. This was the first actual event I had been to since injury. It was HOT and HUMID. So bad in fact, that my 1 year old tacoma's air conditioner was doing very little towards cooling the truck. I'd bought 2 large bottles of water and by the time I'd trolled in, I was through 1 of them already. Clearly, I had not planned out my water needs properly, but as luck would have it there was a water spigot right where we'd dropped our gear.
I got my armor on and we lined up. I ran the first and second in the front rank. I had a greave fail and had to sit down to fix it. I got it back together, but I was already tired. I drank the second bottle of water and i was overheating and feeling kinda sick to my stomach again... Once again, overheating was a problem. I realized that my armor was now skin tight and I had no airflow between the leather and my body. I needed to figure out a way to shed more heat, but I couldn't do anything about it at this point.
I missed the next line up and then they took a break. As soon as we lined back up though, I was back out there in the front rank. I ran and crashed the front rank at impact and in the moment, I took a shot across the back of my thigh. It hurt. It scared the HELL out of me too because it was REAL close to where the vein had been crushed behind my knee. I tried to shrug it off, but the truth of the matter was I scared that I'd just started the whole mess over again. I was worried that I'd made the wrong decision. My nerve broke. I sat down.
I sat and watched the fighting. I watched people who'd been on the Unbelted Champion team the last year I'd been on it on the field, running and fighting. I watched the man that was the captain of this coming Pennsic's team. I'd just told him to judge me harder than the others. I wanted to prove that I belonged on this team and I'd been vocal on the Unbelt's list that I was coming back to get a spot on the team again. Maybe I had been too confident, too ignorant of my true mental and physical state... maybe I had been wrong.
I sat and watched a bit more and my mind righted itself. My leg stopped hurting and I felt fairly good. I went to put my gorget back on and realized I hadn't unsnapped it when I'd taken it off. I checked it... the small leather straps that connected the 2 pieces together and functioned as a hinge had dry rotted. I remember being confused about this. I hadn't thought to check the straps for more than mold. I bent the piece of leather and a small piece snapped off. I wasn't going to duct tape it on. If I hadn't been on blood thinners, then I would have done that. Armor failure leading to a broken bone or bruising is still a major issue being on these medications. I was done for the day like it or not. I'd driven almost 5 hours to fight for an hour.
I was depressed about how little fighting I'd done and how... non-noteworthy my activity had been. I sat
We did the next scenario, which if memory serves, was a bridge/mountain pass scenario. I pushed hard and near the middle of it was so winded that I was taking breaks. I kept them short, giving myself only enough time to stop wheezing and start breathing somewhat normally again before getting up and going back in. We lost this scenario.
Next up was the woods battle. We did a timed battle with a few last man standing battles after. I fought through the whole thing, panting like a bellows and gritting my teeth. By the time we were done, I had nothing left. I wasn't even sure if I was going to be able to walk back to my stuff to pack up to go home. I focused on breathing and started shuffling up the path. I was moving slow, I know I was and it was the only speed I had left and it was fading fairly fast. I kept focusing on breathing and walking. Dimly I was aware of people around me... passing me as I shuffled my way.
I ended up with a small group clustered around me and had my gear taken from my hands to lighten my load and someone put a great weapon in my hand to lean on for support. Another person gave me a cold rag and ice cold water, both of which were awesome. I would like to thank the people that helped me out of the woods right now. I'm sorry that I've forgotten who everyone was, but without the help, I would have been in those woods for a long time walking out. Even as it was, it took better than 10 minutes to get out to the road again. The walk in took less than 5.
I made the whole day fighting though with only a few minutes of breaks total. I still wasn't happy with myself, but I reflected on this and realized my progress over the last 3 weeks was still quite staggering. I kept going to Iron Bog Practice and fighting as I could. At one of them, I realized that the upper part of my armor was more cosmetic than functional and it was a MAJOR heat trap. It came off. The heat problem, while not solved, was significantly better for me after that. I noticed that all the fighting had worn raw spots on my body, I bought an Under Armor shirt and put it on underneath my linen tunic. It further helped with shedding more heat and made it tolerable. It also had the added benefit of providing some slide in my armor so it stopped making raw spots.
The next event was Northern Region War Camp. All but 10 people had been named for the Unbelted team out of the 30 man roster. Mine had not been read off in the 20. There were 2 more events for people to prove themselves to earn one of those dwindling spots. This one and GNEW. In true fashion... I went to the Unbelted Champion's list and ran my mouth. I rode up with other people and sat in my own little world for the bulk of it. this was my last chance to prove I belonged on the team. I wasn't feeling it. I hadn't done anything impressive. In my own eyes, all I had done had been mediocre at best... and that wasn't going to make the grade.
We got to the sight, armored up and got down to fighting. It was field battles (Unbelts vs.), then a town scenario, and afterwards bridges. I did my thing in the fields but didn't feel I'd done neither well nor bad. In the town scenario, I crushed a few pockets of defenders, crashed a few lines and again, just generally did what a shieldman does. Again, I felt like I had done nothing impressive enough to warrant one of those last 10 spots.
The final scenario was a resurrection bridge battle. I stood on the left side of the bridge just behind the front spear. This was my job. This is where speed of reaction beat anything else. A quick little push and hammer the main line of the other side. I just did it. The first time to go, I didn't lag, didn't second guess myself.
I ran forward and hammered their line, it buckled around me. Shot flew in at my back and my reversed sword caught them. Blows hammered on my shield edge trying to find the angle to strike my ducked head. I kept my legs churning. I didn't stop. I didn't feel any fatigue. I pushed into their ranks deep... and then... my momentum broke and I was swarmed over. I'd pushed through their lines which had held roughly three quarters of the bridge. The sound of combat behind me was instense. My line had taken the fight in behind me.
I did this again and again, my legs becoming rubbery and my breathing starting to get ragged. Every pass fueled me. I had to get through their bridge. I HAD to break the line. Near the end of the fighting, we were all tired. The fighting had slowed a little. I wasn't sure if we had the bridge or not. I didn't know how much time was left. I saw their line begin to lead out on the one side.
I deliberately waited. There was going to be a charge from that side. They crept out a little more and I went. I charged across the bridge, slammed into them and threw three off the bridge and then frantically turned and faced their line, throwing shots for all I was worth. I killed a few more and then got dropped myself. I was done. The battle was done. The day was done.
We all armored down and piled in the car and left. We stopped at Dinosaur BBQ, ate, and then made the long drive home. I wasn't sure if I had done anything noteworthy enough to make the team or not, but I was happy with how I'd done. I felt like me again. I had been in the thick of it when I was supposed to be, doing what was supposed to be done. I may have been a day late and a dollar short, but I knew the next year I would earn a spot on the team for sure.
We talked on the ride home extensively about a lot of things. I wouldn't know for sure until the next weekend for sure when the final 10 names were read in court at GNEW. I suppose I could have directly asked people if I'd made the team or not, but if I did... then failure would be confirmed. At least at that moment I was in the nice and comfortable limbo of being able to hold out hope I was going to be named.
Inevitably though... the week ground on. I was absorbed with looking for work, but I still dreaded the confirmation. I had convinced myself that I wasn't on the team. Sure, I'd had a lot of ambition and heart, but that doesn't put you on a team of apex predators. I was coming back after 18 months of doing nothing but sitting... how could I ever have considered it an accomplishable goal. I wasn't feeling negative when I was thinking this. I knew it had been a long shot when I'd set out on the path. I was taught by my Haus to never give up and to give my best effort. That's what I had done and I was content.
Sunday night I sat down in front of my pc and fired up facebook to check the final names. I got on the page and I stared. My name was on the list of the last 10. I was surprised and confused. I was pretty sure it was a mistake. There were at least 4-5 other people who were as good as I was, but I wasn't sure if they were going to war. I accepted that my name was on the team, but held the reservation that maybe there had been a mistake. I was still doubting myself, but I kept this to myself. I went to the last few practices I could and completely overhauled most of my gear.
Pennsic rolled into view. I lost some sleep watching the clock move. That thursday, I packed my truck off, and left on friday in the late morning. I drove out enjoying the feeling of going home. I was going to be surrounded by all my friends and chosen family. I took it in easy stages and drove out. My fears playing on me slightly. I knew I wanted to do the job on the field. I had done it in the past. The injury I'd suffered haunted me though still. I had pushed myself at practices and harder yet at the events. I'd suffered some chest pains and serious fatigue the days after events. I hadn't tested myself to the level of the Unbelted battle. It was 150% of whatever you could muster and it was left on the field. You ran until the air was gone and if there were enemies left... you kept running until there were none. Every shot thrown had to be a kill, no second chances. The impact when the lines hit HAD to knock them off their feet. ONE battle. No excuses. No redo. Failure or Victory.
The next weekend, I went to the regular Iron Bog practice which is primarily a singles practice. I found myself evaluating who I would fight based on how likely they were to bruise me and ended up fighting a few light fights. I overheated again after fighting 3 or 4 bouts and had to strip my armor off, go into the building and lay on the cold cement floor and soak up the air conditioning to cool myself down. I was drinking water and it was coming out of me as fast as I was able to get it in myself. I spent about forty-five minutes moving occasionally as the floor warmed up under me and then got up and went back out and did a handful of bouts more. I got to the point of feeling like I was going to throw up again and couldn't shake the feeling, so I called it quits.
The next weekend was Roses. The event had moved locations, and I decided to day trip it instead of doing the camping thing. I was fired up and nervous. This was the first actual event I had been to since injury. It was HOT and HUMID. So bad in fact, that my 1 year old tacoma's air conditioner was doing very little towards cooling the truck. I'd bought 2 large bottles of water and by the time I'd trolled in, I was through 1 of them already. Clearly, I had not planned out my water needs properly, but as luck would have it there was a water spigot right where we'd dropped our gear.
I got my armor on and we lined up. I ran the first and second in the front rank. I had a greave fail and had to sit down to fix it. I got it back together, but I was already tired. I drank the second bottle of water and i was overheating and feeling kinda sick to my stomach again... Once again, overheating was a problem. I realized that my armor was now skin tight and I had no airflow between the leather and my body. I needed to figure out a way to shed more heat, but I couldn't do anything about it at this point.
I missed the next line up and then they took a break. As soon as we lined back up though, I was back out there in the front rank. I ran and crashed the front rank at impact and in the moment, I took a shot across the back of my thigh. It hurt. It scared the HELL out of me too because it was REAL close to where the vein had been crushed behind my knee. I tried to shrug it off, but the truth of the matter was I scared that I'd just started the whole mess over again. I was worried that I'd made the wrong decision. My nerve broke. I sat down.
I sat and watched the fighting. I watched people who'd been on the Unbelted Champion team the last year I'd been on it on the field, running and fighting. I watched the man that was the captain of this coming Pennsic's team. I'd just told him to judge me harder than the others. I wanted to prove that I belonged on this team and I'd been vocal on the Unbelt's list that I was coming back to get a spot on the team again. Maybe I had been too confident, too ignorant of my true mental and physical state... maybe I had been wrong.
I sat and watched a bit more and my mind righted itself. My leg stopped hurting and I felt fairly good. I went to put my gorget back on and realized I hadn't unsnapped it when I'd taken it off. I checked it... the small leather straps that connected the 2 pieces together and functioned as a hinge had dry rotted. I remember being confused about this. I hadn't thought to check the straps for more than mold. I bent the piece of leather and a small piece snapped off. I wasn't going to duct tape it on. If I hadn't been on blood thinners, then I would have done that. Armor failure leading to a broken bone or bruising is still a major issue being on these medications. I was done for the day like it or not. I'd driven almost 5 hours to fight for an hour.
I was depressed about how little fighting I'd done and how... non-noteworthy my activity had been. I sat
June 2016
Next up was Southern Region War Camp. My armor was fixed. I had been spending time practicing on my pelle and going to Iron bog practice. I grabbed my gear feeling good about myself and drove the 45 minutes. I helped set up the Royal Pavillion and wasn't feeling too winded. I armored up. I fought the whole first scenario and ended up delivering the blow that gave our side the 'victory' condition which affected where we'd started while simultaneously getting a nice bruise on my back from my opponent delivering a killing blow on me.We did the next scenario, which if memory serves, was a bridge/mountain pass scenario. I pushed hard and near the middle of it was so winded that I was taking breaks. I kept them short, giving myself only enough time to stop wheezing and start breathing somewhat normally again before getting up and going back in. We lost this scenario.
Next up was the woods battle. We did a timed battle with a few last man standing battles after. I fought through the whole thing, panting like a bellows and gritting my teeth. By the time we were done, I had nothing left. I wasn't even sure if I was going to be able to walk back to my stuff to pack up to go home. I focused on breathing and started shuffling up the path. I was moving slow, I know I was and it was the only speed I had left and it was fading fairly fast. I kept focusing on breathing and walking. Dimly I was aware of people around me... passing me as I shuffled my way.
I ended up with a small group clustered around me and had my gear taken from my hands to lighten my load and someone put a great weapon in my hand to lean on for support. Another person gave me a cold rag and ice cold water, both of which were awesome. I would like to thank the people that helped me out of the woods right now. I'm sorry that I've forgotten who everyone was, but without the help, I would have been in those woods for a long time walking out. Even as it was, it took better than 10 minutes to get out to the road again. The walk in took less than 5.
I made the whole day fighting though with only a few minutes of breaks total. I still wasn't happy with myself, but I reflected on this and realized my progress over the last 3 weeks was still quite staggering. I kept going to Iron Bog Practice and fighting as I could. At one of them, I realized that the upper part of my armor was more cosmetic than functional and it was a MAJOR heat trap. It came off. The heat problem, while not solved, was significantly better for me after that. I noticed that all the fighting had worn raw spots on my body, I bought an Under Armor shirt and put it on underneath my linen tunic. It further helped with shedding more heat and made it tolerable. It also had the added benefit of providing some slide in my armor so it stopped making raw spots.
The next event was Northern Region War Camp. All but 10 people had been named for the Unbelted team out of the 30 man roster. Mine had not been read off in the 20. There were 2 more events for people to prove themselves to earn one of those dwindling spots. This one and GNEW. In true fashion... I went to the Unbelted Champion's list and ran my mouth. I rode up with other people and sat in my own little world for the bulk of it. this was my last chance to prove I belonged on the team. I wasn't feeling it. I hadn't done anything impressive. In my own eyes, all I had done had been mediocre at best... and that wasn't going to make the grade.
We got to the sight, armored up and got down to fighting. It was field battles (Unbelts vs.), then a town scenario, and afterwards bridges. I did my thing in the fields but didn't feel I'd done neither well nor bad. In the town scenario, I crushed a few pockets of defenders, crashed a few lines and again, just generally did what a shieldman does. Again, I felt like I had done nothing impressive enough to warrant one of those last 10 spots.
The final scenario was a resurrection bridge battle. I stood on the left side of the bridge just behind the front spear. This was my job. This is where speed of reaction beat anything else. A quick little push and hammer the main line of the other side. I just did it. The first time to go, I didn't lag, didn't second guess myself.
I ran forward and hammered their line, it buckled around me. Shot flew in at my back and my reversed sword caught them. Blows hammered on my shield edge trying to find the angle to strike my ducked head. I kept my legs churning. I didn't stop. I didn't feel any fatigue. I pushed into their ranks deep... and then... my momentum broke and I was swarmed over. I'd pushed through their lines which had held roughly three quarters of the bridge. The sound of combat behind me was instense. My line had taken the fight in behind me.
I did this again and again, my legs becoming rubbery and my breathing starting to get ragged. Every pass fueled me. I had to get through their bridge. I HAD to break the line. Near the end of the fighting, we were all tired. The fighting had slowed a little. I wasn't sure if we had the bridge or not. I didn't know how much time was left. I saw their line begin to lead out on the one side.
I deliberately waited. There was going to be a charge from that side. They crept out a little more and I went. I charged across the bridge, slammed into them and threw three off the bridge and then frantically turned and faced their line, throwing shots for all I was worth. I killed a few more and then got dropped myself. I was done. The battle was done. The day was done.
We all armored down and piled in the car and left. We stopped at Dinosaur BBQ, ate, and then made the long drive home. I wasn't sure if I had done anything noteworthy enough to make the team or not, but I was happy with how I'd done. I felt like me again. I had been in the thick of it when I was supposed to be, doing what was supposed to be done. I may have been a day late and a dollar short, but I knew the next year I would earn a spot on the team for sure.
We talked on the ride home extensively about a lot of things. I wouldn't know for sure until the next weekend for sure when the final 10 names were read in court at GNEW. I suppose I could have directly asked people if I'd made the team or not, but if I did... then failure would be confirmed. At least at that moment I was in the nice and comfortable limbo of being able to hold out hope I was going to be named.
Inevitably though... the week ground on. I was absorbed with looking for work, but I still dreaded the confirmation. I had convinced myself that I wasn't on the team. Sure, I'd had a lot of ambition and heart, but that doesn't put you on a team of apex predators. I was coming back after 18 months of doing nothing but sitting... how could I ever have considered it an accomplishable goal. I wasn't feeling negative when I was thinking this. I knew it had been a long shot when I'd set out on the path. I was taught by my Haus to never give up and to give my best effort. That's what I had done and I was content.
Sunday night I sat down in front of my pc and fired up facebook to check the final names. I got on the page and I stared. My name was on the list of the last 10. I was surprised and confused. I was pretty sure it was a mistake. There were at least 4-5 other people who were as good as I was, but I wasn't sure if they were going to war. I accepted that my name was on the team, but held the reservation that maybe there had been a mistake. I was still doubting myself, but I kept this to myself. I went to the last few practices I could and completely overhauled most of my gear.
Pennsic rolled into view. I lost some sleep watching the clock move. That thursday, I packed my truck off, and left on friday in the late morning. I drove out enjoying the feeling of going home. I was going to be surrounded by all my friends and chosen family. I took it in easy stages and drove out. My fears playing on me slightly. I knew I wanted to do the job on the field. I had done it in the past. The injury I'd suffered haunted me though still. I had pushed myself at practices and harder yet at the events. I'd suffered some chest pains and serious fatigue the days after events. I hadn't tested myself to the level of the Unbelted battle. It was 150% of whatever you could muster and it was left on the field. You ran until the air was gone and if there were enemies left... you kept running until there were none. Every shot thrown had to be a kill, no second chances. The impact when the lines hit HAD to knock them off their feet. ONE battle. No excuses. No redo. Failure or Victory.
August 7th, 2016. Unbelted battle.
I had followed my previous night's ritual of having a water drinking party at camp.The morning was odd. Over the years I had been on the team, Turi had been on it as well. I am his Man at Arms, while he is normally independent and does not like me to help him, the ritual of the morning of Unbelts is one that was established a few years ago. While I'm slowly armoring up I ask him if he needs or wants a hand about twenty times and he says no. Inevitably at some point he will ask me to do some small task. He was not there this year even though he would have been if he could have been.
I'm not normally a superstitious person, but I was on edge because I was nervous. I wanted the rituals, I was worried that I was going to jinx the team or myself. I ate my normal granola bar breakfast, gathered my normal snacks and water and geared up. The Haushold gathered itself together and we marched out to the field. Several of us were on the team and we were given our space to get our game heads on. I milled around, relaxing and trying hard not to panic. I was thinking hard about giving my spot away out of simple fear. I was afraid that I didn't belong, that I was the weak link on the team, but I fought the urges to hide myself. The team had faith in me. The leaders who had watched and weighed each person had faith in me.
Court was called and the age old tradition of the day began. The Champion's tabards were handed out by the Queen. The Unbelted Captain presented the team, man by man to the King and Queen. As each man's name was called, he went forward to kneel before the Queen. She spoke quietly to each one, smiling as she held out the tabard and draped it over the fighter's head and then handed them a favor. I remember looking at each other man that was called before me. Measuring myself against them. Still coming up with myself as a wildcard as to whether I should be among them. Thankfully the tent was hot and humid so the nerve based sweat that was covering my face was masked. As the list was whittled down, I remember Angus stopping and looking around for a moment. His eyes found me and he was smiling. I knew he was up to something in that moment, but wasn't sure what...
Then, he called out the next name, enunciating it clearly and loudly: The Resurrected Killer: Gavin MacKinnon. The applause and cheering was thunderous. I felt humbled and nervous. In my head I asked myself: "Am I still the killer I was 2 years ago on this field?". I brushed it out of my mind. Everyone else thought so. I've learned to trust others when trying to weigh in on myself more than myself. I'm significantly harder and more critical on myself than I should be and at times it's blinded me to my true capabilities.
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| Receiving my tabard at my first pennsic after my injury. |
I approached the Queen and knelt before her. She draped the tabard over my head and then handed me a favor. As I took the favor, I said the only thing I could say. "In life or death, with honor." I rose and retreated back into the comfort of the pack. I was just another of a group of apex predators who were gearing up to do the job at hand. Then as has become tradition, a bard that has caught the hearts of the Unbelt team, Aneleda Falconbridge, stepped forward and proceeded to sing her song for the Unbelted Champions and has also become tradition, not a champion was left with a dry eye.
We took the field and we fought. Unfortunately, I died on point of impact while ripping open the Midrealm's line and fell to an enemy polearm blow. Although, I didn't live long but that is the glory of the shieldman. I did my job, I did it well, and I did it until I died. I did not fail the team, I did not fail myself, and my body did not fail me. I was content... as I lay on the field tucked safely under my shield, I watched and listened to the fighting around me. When it passed, I rolled out and moved to the side of the field and watched as our team finished mopping up the Midrealm's.
I had come full circle. I was an OTC, I was an Unbelt, I was on the field of pennsic and fighting. I was recovered. I still take blood thinners and I do bruise slightly worse than I used to, but I have reclaimed the things I felt had been ruthlessly ripped from me. I had leaned on the team, my friends, the Populace of the East. Over the course of the war, people came up to me to talk to me and congratulate me on my return. I lacked the words to articulate my thanks in return for everyone who had supported me. So now, I say it clearly: Thank you for being awesome people. This is what our Kingdom did collectively:
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| I am called forward to accept my tabard as: The Resurrected Killer, Gavin MacKinnon |
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