Mistress Sylvia du Vey – Order of the Laurel

Laurel Scroll for Mistress Sylvia du Vey; Calligraphy by Jamin Brown, illumination by Camille desJardins
Laurel Scroll for Mistress Sylvia du Vey; Calligraphy by Jamin Brown, illumination by Camille DesJardins

Gentles be greeted by your Crown, most earnest King Gregor and steadfast Queen Kiena as We enjoin you to make note of Sylvia du Vey, who has served most faithfully, ensuring that Our kingdom is rich beyond all others in its cup-fillers — for so willingly she teaches and inspires that Our cups indeed runneth over.  Thus, as do drink and song are boon companions, We offer her a verse:

As barm and honey do become a mead,
while gruit and malt together good beer,
as fruit with time alone transforms to wine,
lady and knowledge emerge a Peer.

Round her head with Laurel greens;
the Order with her present now convenes.
Arms by Letters Patent she may bear
Writ eternal as by Pliny, see them there:

Per pale purpure and vert, a horse passant
contourny and on a chief argent
an arrow inverted bendwise sinister
‘tween two fleurs-de-lys invert’d purpure

Now raise we all “wes heil” in song of joy
to Mistress Sylvia whose gifts we oft employ!

With great delight do we honor Mistress Sylvia du Vey as a member of the Order of the Laurel, witnessed by the assembly at the Great Northeastern War in the Province of Malagentia on this summer day, the thirteenth of July, in the year of the Society XLVIII.

Gregor Rex
Kiena Regina

Laurel Scroll for Lord Tristan de Worrell

Laurel Scroll written for Lord Tristan de Worrell, presented at East Kingdom Court at the Pennsic War 40, AS46

Beneath the bright aurora’s light
A wise man with his cart here stands,
St. Eligius’ student greets the night
with kindly eyes and worthy hands.

Within his cheery wooden cart
are cheeses soft, or wrapped in rind,
and wines so sweet, and wines so tart,
and sausages his hands did grind.

In Boxes fine of carv-ed wood
Pierced-work and repoussé do shine.
By Champlevé* so bright and good
Are roundels of ancient design.

His curve-ed spoons shine like the sun;
His tents give shelter from its rays;
His baskets from the trees are spun;
His Songbird’s song echoes for days.

Love Conquers All, the words do read,
His Truth is carved upon wood arms.
Other good things that one might need,
And time, he gives free as small charms.

This man, Lord Tristan de Worrell
By works of beauty fine and rare
Is now bedeck’d with sweet laurel
And garners thus his treatment fair.

Take this man now into your fold
And give him leaves of shining green
That all may freely now behold
This Laurel of such gentle mien.

Arms are granted, fully able
to display in etch-ed copper
Or, two boars combattant sable
base a wooden barrel proper.

Now Forty-six, the year we mark
Forty years of the Pennsic War
Here ten days into Augusts’ arc
Tristan takes all Eastern rapport.

Thus in the Mighty Eastern Court
By King Lucan this writ is signed,
In full with Jana Queen’s support
That Tristan now is Laurel-kind.

**(shomp leevay)