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

Otto Gotlieb – Scroll Text Order of the Maunche

By Aneleda Falconbridge with apologies to Walther von der Vogelweide.

Scroll for Otto Gotlieb's Order of the Maunche, illumination and calligraphy by Master Ed MacGyver.
Scroll for Otto Gotlieb’s Order of the Maunche, illumination and calligraphy by Master Ed MacGyver.


When from the bung the ale dost spring
foam head to meet the sun’s bright ray,
when people glass in hand do sing
and all the morning toast, they say –
What lovelier than the prospect there?
Can earth boast any thing more fair?
To Us it seems an almost heaven
so beauteous to Our lips that sparkling drought is given.

And when Otto Gotlieb, chaste and fair,
noble, and clad in good attire
walks through the throng with Krafthaus beer – right there
then what could We do but to admire?
What else boasts he in his display?
What hast thou beautiful and gay
compared with that supreme delight?
By Frieboug Bächle walk for hours, and drink his gruit bier bright!

Wouldst thou believe Us – come and place
before thee all this fine purvey
then look to the Maunche Order’s space
For which is best and brightest? say:
carmel wort of sweet Sah’tea, fine
Kolsh, braggot, ende de welt, all thine
And say, ‘Choose of thy beauties? Nay.
Rather We would taste of them all, and with good drink Our thirst allay.’

Thus We, Gregor Rex and Kiena Regina, raise a glass and name Otto Gotlieb a Companion of Our Order of the Maunche, at the Great Northeastern War in the Province of Malagentia, ASXLII, on the thirteenth of July on the feast of St. Silas.


This text was based on a translated German poem by Walther von der Vogelwiede, as the piece was from the same time period as Otto’s persona. Otto says about his own persona that he was “born in 13th century Freiburg to noble merchant parents. Count Egino II has been talking about raising taxes and making changes to our established rights. The people of Freiburg are restless.”

As he is from Friebourg, I tried to include some things about the city – like the Freiburg Bächle – small water-filled runnels which wend through the old city. They are ancient.

I also included specific brews he has made which are German or period, which discuss his art.

When From The Sod The Flow’rets Spring

When from the sod the flow’rets spring,
And smile to meet the sun’s bright ray,
When birds their sweetest carols sing
In all them morning pride of May,
What lovelier than the prospect there?
Can earth boast any thing more fair?
To me it seems an almost heaven,
So beauteous to my eyes that vision bright is given.

But when a lady, chaste and fair,
Noble, and clad in rich attire,
Walks through the throng with gracious air,
As sun that bids the stars retire,–
Then, where are all thy boastings, May?
What hast thou beautiful and gay
Compared with that supreme delight?
We leave thy loveliest flowers, and watch that lady bright.

Wouldst thou believe me,– come and place
Before thee all this pride of May;
Then look but on my lady’s face,
And, which is best and brightest? say:
For me, how soon (if choice were mine)
This would I take, and that resign!
And say, “Though sweet thy beauties, May!
I’d rather forfeit all than lose my lady gay.”

(In German)

So die bluomen us dem grase dringent,
Sam si lachen gegen den spilnden sunnen
In einem meien an dem morgen fruo,
Und die kleinen vogellin wol singent
In ir besten wise die si kunnen,
Wunne kan sich da gelichen zuo?

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)