Battlefield
Posted: 19 May 2025, 05:59
It was already a hot day, as he stood there in full battle armour. His Clan was with him, along with the neighbouring clan whom they were supporting in battle. He had his shield and sword, the latter still in its holster. But already his shield was feeling heavy as he waited in line. That too was made of leather.
There wasn’t much room as over 200 fighters were crammed into the line, but he was listening to the conversation between two warriors discussing the benefits of their swords depending on who they bought them from, the state of the finish, the weight balance and how easy it survived or was damaged. He could see that one of those in front had a very nice set of metal chainmail covering his upper body, and that flowed down his body past his waist where it was held in place by a black leather belt. Various different pouches hung off them, including the holster for the sword and the expected drinking flask. Some carried water but many had mead for ‘medicinal qualities’. He preferred water to keep his head clear.
His own armour was limited to leather, a dark brown set that covered his shoulders with the plates overlapping to protect his upper back and front, and some loose underarm sections to let the air flow through. They were tied in place with leather straps as well and could be tightened or loosened depending on his need.
He was going to quick march into position when they pass through the portal to the battlefield. The chap next too him was quite a lot larger, and his armour was more of a thin light tan leather shield, with a strap over his chest, and just his loose shirt underneath. His own variant of the clan colours, with the icon on the left shoulder in the clans colours. He had few weapons but he was a runner, and that surprised him. Running was hot work and the man was quite large. But until you could see the bare skin it was impossible to see how strong they were.
He himself was not a fan of running but it had to be done. He could jog to keep up with his group, but would prefer a quick march into position instead. He tried to move a little before the cramp set in again but everyone was crowding in. He heard noises as another stream of fighters came forwards in another line, he glanced across at their armour and saw that they could afford nicer stuff than he had, plus many of the armour types were synchronised with patterns of matching leather and chain mail. He knew they were a supporting element and was glad that he wasn’t going up against them. He could see short sleeved arms that were bristling with muscles.
He moved a little, he was already uncomfortable, as he was already well hydrated. It was hot today, unseasonably. It was April and the weather should be about 14c today, so he was dressed with a base layer under his leather armour and his trousers were full length. In summer he would wear less trousers and less layers. But today was already 22c and he already drunk nearly a litre of water.
Last night was the first night of the year in the field of LARP, and having arrived to the site late afternoon he got about to setup his reasonably large tent. Enough room to stand up, to dress and to keep all of his clothing. He had numerous sets. Just in the field, the battle, day wear, evening and night wear. At night and in the early morning it got quite cold. He was expecting a cold event. But he had gone to the bar at about 6pm after a light meal and it was still quite hot. So he’d stayed there until well after it got dark. Catching up and meeting friends and old friends. He was at the bar, in the nook, the other nook, the smoking corner, sitting down on the deck and spreading himself around, pint glass in hand, and joining in chat, descriptions, rehashing of battles and above all, catching up.
It was gone 11pm when he realised it was actually quite cold. A glance up revealed a clear stary night, voices all around and the bustle and noise of the other several thousand people here.
Quite a few of the friends here shared some other group discussion forum, such as Discord, but some were isolated for various reasons. So those were the ones that he spent more time with, but many others wanted that too. He did not recall who made the decision but as a group they left the bar at gone 11pm, shivering and heading to the camping field. Various small groups left separating until it was just a handful and him, and then him as he returned, shivering, to his tent. Via the portaloo of course, his aching bladder demanded that.
So now here he was, standing in the battle line, ready to storm into the battle field with his fellow LARPers and he realised he needed to pee.
There wasn’t much room as over 200 fighters were crammed into the line, but he was listening to the conversation between two warriors discussing the benefits of their swords depending on who they bought them from, the state of the finish, the weight balance and how easy it survived or was damaged. He could see that one of those in front had a very nice set of metal chainmail covering his upper body, and that flowed down his body past his waist where it was held in place by a black leather belt. Various different pouches hung off them, including the holster for the sword and the expected drinking flask. Some carried water but many had mead for ‘medicinal qualities’. He preferred water to keep his head clear.
His own armour was limited to leather, a dark brown set that covered his shoulders with the plates overlapping to protect his upper back and front, and some loose underarm sections to let the air flow through. They were tied in place with leather straps as well and could be tightened or loosened depending on his need.
He was going to quick march into position when they pass through the portal to the battlefield. The chap next too him was quite a lot larger, and his armour was more of a thin light tan leather shield, with a strap over his chest, and just his loose shirt underneath. His own variant of the clan colours, with the icon on the left shoulder in the clans colours. He had few weapons but he was a runner, and that surprised him. Running was hot work and the man was quite large. But until you could see the bare skin it was impossible to see how strong they were.
He himself was not a fan of running but it had to be done. He could jog to keep up with his group, but would prefer a quick march into position instead. He tried to move a little before the cramp set in again but everyone was crowding in. He heard noises as another stream of fighters came forwards in another line, he glanced across at their armour and saw that they could afford nicer stuff than he had, plus many of the armour types were synchronised with patterns of matching leather and chain mail. He knew they were a supporting element and was glad that he wasn’t going up against them. He could see short sleeved arms that were bristling with muscles.
He moved a little, he was already uncomfortable, as he was already well hydrated. It was hot today, unseasonably. It was April and the weather should be about 14c today, so he was dressed with a base layer under his leather armour and his trousers were full length. In summer he would wear less trousers and less layers. But today was already 22c and he already drunk nearly a litre of water.
Last night was the first night of the year in the field of LARP, and having arrived to the site late afternoon he got about to setup his reasonably large tent. Enough room to stand up, to dress and to keep all of his clothing. He had numerous sets. Just in the field, the battle, day wear, evening and night wear. At night and in the early morning it got quite cold. He was expecting a cold event. But he had gone to the bar at about 6pm after a light meal and it was still quite hot. So he’d stayed there until well after it got dark. Catching up and meeting friends and old friends. He was at the bar, in the nook, the other nook, the smoking corner, sitting down on the deck and spreading himself around, pint glass in hand, and joining in chat, descriptions, rehashing of battles and above all, catching up.
It was gone 11pm when he realised it was actually quite cold. A glance up revealed a clear stary night, voices all around and the bustle and noise of the other several thousand people here.
Quite a few of the friends here shared some other group discussion forum, such as Discord, but some were isolated for various reasons. So those were the ones that he spent more time with, but many others wanted that too. He did not recall who made the decision but as a group they left the bar at gone 11pm, shivering and heading to the camping field. Various small groups left separating until it was just a handful and him, and then him as he returned, shivering, to his tent. Via the portaloo of course, his aching bladder demanded that.
So now here he was, standing in the battle line, ready to storm into the battle field with his fellow LARPers and he realised he needed to pee.
