Renaissance Festival War Stories: Newbourne July 3, 2022

Sunday July 3, 2022

The last day of the inaugural season of Newbourne Village. We can't even get through the morning meeting without happy tears. Yackov and Master Ticktock tell us to "leave it all out in the lanes" one more time.

Super Power-less

Thomas, Metastar, and myself don't often work as a trio often, and for specific reasons. Because when we do we don't hear well: Metastar and Thomas both have hearing aids; I have my real ears partially obstructed by my head scarf. We like to tell the crowds, "Do speak up your answers loudly and clearly, for the three of us have the combined hearing powers of nearly one!" Somehow, I am still the designated listener for the three of us when this happens.

...

Spokes-deer

A friend of mine who is a costume maker and artist, the maker of the pockets I am wearing in the above picture: Scoundrelle's Keep, the ones with the books and the other one with the teal flap, happened to come to the faire that day. While she and I are not close, we are well-acquainted enough that we have been to many of the same social events and have many of the same friends. She was kind enough to stop and enjoy some riddles, which is something she is not often able to do, since she is usually working at the festivals and not playing at them.

I tell Thomas and Metastar that I would like to do the next riddle and look to my Scoundrelle friend and give her a whisper mime and let her know that this riddle is inspired by her and therefore, since she already knows the answer, don't say it. I say the riddle where the answer is 'pockets.' My friend and her friend are having a fun laugh about it and enjoying what we as riddlers call 'the second experience.' I say the riddle a few times and someone eventually gets the answer of pockets.

I then point out my Scoundrelle friend as the maker of the pockets and how much I enjoy her products. She says she will look into selling her wares there at Newbourne next year. Thomas, knowing me well, holds up his neck sign that says 'Not a paid spokes person' as I continually hawk and praise her products: "I am so glad I bought Scoundrelle's Keep pockets. Scoundrelle's Keep pockets are fully washable, reversible, and fulfill all my pocket needs. I am not a paid spokes-deer."

...

Even when Nestor isn't here, he is.

There is something that happens after dozens of hours of high-level friendship questing, you get to know your performing partners in a way that's as close as family. I refer to Thomas and Metastar as 'Uncles.' Bertram and Jacqueline are 'Dad and Mom.' Willona is like a clone of my real mother. And Nestor is the big brother I never had; truly one of my best friends in this world.

We are riddling and there is a clever young woman who is solving riddles at a quick pace; a pace that is leading us to escalate our challenge level with the crowd we have quickly. And as if she was a sorceress enchanting the right words in the form of answers and then said the last words to cast the enchantment: math.

That did it. Her correct answers followed by her interest in math was the incantation required to fully possess me with the conscious spirit of Nestor. I went into his script, his posture, and performed his riddle. In that performance, Tinka Boudit wasn't there, Nestor the Cruel was. The audience got a cruel math riddle and it was all her fault.

...

Oh deer me!

The festival held at Newbourne Village was an absolute labor of love put together by hard work and dedication from every single person who worked there. Whether they operated a booth, worked the lanes, or helped on the grounds: it was blood sweat and tears. I gave three performance days and one rehearsal/prep day to Newbourne Village. Thomas, Metastar and myself pack up the stage and prepare to escort Queen Bea out of our Village gates once more. A beautiful cacophony of drums, clapping, and more as the sweet drum jam commences. Children, patrons, and villagers are all dancing together in one final burst. Queen Bea gives a speech thanking everyone for coming. But it is Yackov and Master Ticktock who take their bows in the end as the fathers and driving forces behind this village.

I may have only given three of eight possible days in the village, but I am still moved to tears on this final day. This was a communal effort of love and devotion.

...I can't wait to do it again. See you in 48 weeks!