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.
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.
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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.
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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?
Dutiful and dauntless is Tearlach. Afeared are all within his polearm’s strike. Unstintingly giving, arming, and armoring. Growling in glory. Admired by war-kin. Beloved by brothers. Thus, prowling with prowess, does Tearlach the Profane enter into the Order of Tygers Combatant by the hand of King Aelfwine and Queen Arastorm the Golden at the Ice Castle Tourney in Mountain Freehold, on this sixth day of February, anno sociatis XVI.
To all freeholders and the whole realm of the East send all manner of filial reverence.
We, King Gregor and Queen Kiena, find that among other famous nations our East has been graced with widespread renown. Our most tireless Mistress Mira Fennor of Argyll has and shall ever be, as far as duty calls, ready to do Our will in all things, as an obedient daughter.
She, that her people and her heritage might be delivered out of the hands of our enemies, met toil and fatigue, hunger and peril, like another Macabaeus or Joshua and bore them cheerfully.
Her, too, divine providence, has been made a member of the Order of the Silver Crescent, her right of succession according to our laws and customs which we shall maintain to the death. To her, as to the one by whom striving has been wrought for our people, we are bound both by law and by her merits that our freedom may be still maintained, and by her, come what may, we mean to stand. It is in truth not for glory, nor riches, nor honours that she hath worked, but for our people.
Given at Pantaria, the King’s and Queen’s Equestrian Championship, of the Shire of Panther Vale, on the twenty-fifth day of the month of May in the year of the Society XLVIII of the reign of our King aforesaid.
* * *
Text based on portions of a translation of the Scottish “Declaration of Arbroath” of 1320, a “Letter directed to our Lord the Supreme Pontiff by the community of Scotland.” http://www.constitution.org/scot/arbroath.htm
Unto the people of the East do your Cyng Kenric and Cwene Avelina bring greetings. It is Our Will that all good people be well-praised for their deeds and there is one in your number whose praise we would note.
Lord Hew of Albion has, from his village in the northern marches, toiled for the Crown and wrapped Us in the fruit of the weft and the warp. He has trimmed us with soft wool. He has coloured us with fine fibers.
It is written in the Homilies of Ælfric, “Ge mid geswynce wuniged …þu wefst, & wæden teolest, & earfoðlice wast ealre þinre neoda getæl.” You lived with working …you wove, and would toil, and with difficulty were all your needs counted.
It is therefore Our Will that Hew be named Weaver to the Crown and may, as he wish and without hinderance, wield distaff and wheel, spindle and spike, shuttle and loom, card and reed, throughout all the lands of the Eastern Crown.
Given at the King & Queen’s Bardic Championships in the Barony of Bergental on this day, the eighth of March, on the Feast of St. Rhian, anno societies forth-eight by the honorable Kenric and beloved Avelina, who hath made here their sign.
*(You loved this life, and then you lived with working … you ground, and baked, you wove, and would toil, and with difficulty were all your needs counted.)
We find an early reference to it as the verb wefan in the 12th century, in the Homilies of Ælfric: http://alexpolistigers.wordpress.com/2013/11/28/on-weaving-and-webs/
St. Rhian is a Welsh abbot about whom little is known, save that the town of Llanrhian in Pembrokeshire in west Wales, has a church dedicated to him.
