“Valhalla – The Pennsic War”

2006 – “Academy Year III”

The mythopoetic embodiment of my life continues as I am invited once more by Caius (Carl Bridge) to join him and a fellow magi on a journey across the Americas to a gathering called ‘The Pennsic War’.  Such is a continuation of the realms of the olde World that Carl had introduced me to, where I would witness myself arriving as the archetype of the magi-knight, both fighting and healing, spellwork and swordplay in a modern Valhalla of remembered magic.

I find it entirely apropos that of all symbols to arrive for me on the Quest, it was that of the Moon that I championed, making my way across this arena of modern ritual.

Their camp is thick with the Greco-Roman myth lines, flowing up through the surface forms of the people. Here, I see them reenacting the battles of times gone by, reliving the lives and the fellowships that have threaded them together from one world to another.

Familia Gladitoria

The camp is called “Familia Gladitoria”, and I can feel the warriorship, the quality of fighting together against a common foe and the camaraderie that comes from such things.

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I sense the shape of the Mythica beneath me.  Here the impressions, the textures of ancient warriorship, of times gone by and remembered, as well as that of the magic  and more move across my senses.

Again the Water speaks to me, the ripples across the stillness communicating something that I cannot quite yet understand yet know is deeply relevant to the realm in which the event happens.  Images of warriors, of bloodsoaked battle, of victory and defeat move across my mindseye.

Taking the Field

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The Prince & the Pilgrim – Part II

Once again the Pilgrim appears in the path, and as he does I sense the lines of myth return, the feeling that came to me when we sat upon the mountain during the ‘Waiting for the Next Camel’ segment of our shared time in the realms of Estrella. The paths are different for us this time as we wander the realms, eventually finding our way to a masquerade full of people all dressed to the the hilt in costumes and couture. There is a gatekeeper at the door, insistent upon a code of dress & decorum that the blend of reds and golds in my outfit affords me, and am easily ushered into the space. Again I feel like a prince of the fae realms, finding my way through the revelries with diplomatic privilege. It is a classic mythos, as I turn to see my companion barred at the door for their peasant’s gear and pull them in quickly as members of my entourage. The roles we are playing have their privileges.

Realms of Afara

2006-8-24

Connecting once more with the clan of Yoruba Gods, I make my way down to their home, a sanctuary in the forests a short flight south of the realms of Vahalla. Here I shall collect the blade we made compact on half a year previous in the realms of Estrella.

It is here my ally reveals himself as an aspect of Ogun, as he shows me the vastness of his inner workshop, the sculpture and song of the metal, the fire and the wind.

Arriving straight out of the realms of Valhalla and what is called the”Pennsic War” on the surface plane, Afara occurs for me as a place deep in the wildelands. Thick with the energy of the Warrior and the Seer.

It is one of the few times that I have lost photos on the Quest.

WHo is to say why? Perhaps it was simply the will of those Gods. The wards they had set around themselves, the fires and permissions of the forge. I only know that I appreciate that which stayed, that which honoured the moment in the trek deeper into the Mythica, where I came to witness the real magical World.

The energies of the Masculine are deeply strong as I make my way to their realm.  There, I encounter Old Gods, beings embodying the harder edges of what it means to be hunters and gatherers.  Like The Gorilla King, they are creatures of potency, of primal energies far removed from the modern world.

Forging Talon

Here, deep in the realms of the Warrior, the promise of a sacred blade is fulfilled, with the metalsmith taking us to the edges of the mountains, to a vein of coal that lay within his territories.

PLACEHOLDER TEXT

PLACEHOLDER TEXT

The act of the forging was a thing of deep ritual. Old magic. Warrior magic. The place where metal meets blood and the Gifts and Challenges of it’s wielding.

He thanked me then, for bringing peace to their Home. Such was a deep compliment from a fierce King, and I bowed in response, taking my new-wrought blade with me.

Characters Appearing

Carl Bridge
Timbriane
Ajax the Mighty