Chimeron's Library
Meta and OOC
Meta and OOC
While scouring past versions of the Chimeron library and other documents, we found articles that we did not want to get rid of, but also could not find a place to put them in the rest of this website. Thus, you find them here. While one of these articles is credited, the other two do not have associated credits. In both cases, we do not claim credit, and in the case of Tips for the Duelist, we recommend that all players keep in mind that this document is here for historical interest, and to please keep in mind best physical roleplay practices.
GM-ing the Chaos Factor
An out of Character History of the Realms. First published as:
The Realms: G.M.-ing the Chaos Factor
in MetaGame magazine
Jan 18th 1997: I am sitting in a rowdy gathering of the volunteers (the proper pronunciation of the word volunteers is loo’ne-tiks) who are organizing Intercon 13. Without realizing it my hand is waving madly when Jeff Diewald asks if someone would like to take care of organizing the Con Suite. I regard my hand with shock, but before I can snatch it out of the air, Jeff has courteously thanked me and the topic has moved on. I give my hand a stern talking to...it makes a rude gesture.
March 2nd 1997: The volunteers meet again. I explain that my plan for staffing the Con Suite, means creating a themed room, a tavern if you will, where people can go to be relaxed, eat some great food and do a little free form roleplaying. Since the people who would be staffing it all come from the live roleplaying system where I cut my teeth, The Realms, I figured that we could do a little cross pollination, introduce the ILF to The Realms and introduce The Realms to the ILF. As I am explaining a little about my group to the volunteers, Charles Sumner leans across to me and asks politely, "Is The Realms basically a generic live fantasy roleplaying game?" I am so startled by the question, because personally I would never consider my game to be generic, that I just answer yes. It has only recently occurred to me that The Realms might be of interest to the ILF because we are really not a generic fantasy roleplaying system. (Sorry Charles! You asked... it became the focus of the article....you know how it goes.) Unlike any other fantasy game out there, and in fact unlike any game that I know of, The Realms is a community based live roleplaying system.
In a lot of ways we are like a standard fantasy roleplaying system. We use boff style weapons to resolve combat, we have a magic system, our costuming preference is medieval or renaissance, and the social structure is feudal, with Princes, Dukes, Lords and a Queen. However, there are little things that differentiate us from the competition; for example, we are not a point based combat system. Fighters do not have levels like they do in D & D and NERO, because we have a location based combat system. The fighter is only as good as they actually are with a boff weapon. Because this is the case, local Realms groups often meet once or twice a week to practice their fighting skills, and the events tend to be fighting intensive, and not just recognize boffs as a means of resolving conflicts, but as a talent in and of itself. Also, our rule books tend to be on the light side. Our system is set up such that someone who is playing a fighter needs to know the bare minimum about the magic system, leaving the intimate details of spell casting to the healers and the mages. Finally, there are no character sheets in our game. You are who you say you are until someone proves otherwise. That means that you don't have to make your character concept fit any pre-ordained class, you can call yourself a half woman half tiger if you want, you can claim to be a fairy or a drow. All of that has been done, and there is room for more. How we differ from the competition is both our strength and our weakness, and can only be explained by taking a quick look at our history.
The Realms was founded by Glenn and Shannon Slate, brothers with an extremely understanding set of parents in Warren Mass. Glenn was co-founder of a system called Lost Chest Enterprises that debuted in 1986 and quickly subsided. By 1988, Glenn's younger brother Shannon, decided that he could do it better; he kept the basic fighting rules, adding in some modifications for safety and expanded the magic system. He published the rules, picked up most of Glenn's original game and the first event premiered that summer. Shannon ran the show. He was the highest noble in the land, founding a knightly order dedicated to the preservation of his game. He was one of the best fighters, inspiring legions of people to try their hand at boff style fighting, turning a game mechanic into a sport, and the sport almost into art. He published a newsletter called the View from Valehaven to keep the players in touch with each other, and to announce upcoming games, writing most of the articles himself and absorbing most of the cost. He gave permission for other people to run games within the same universe using his rules, always overseeing the operation in his persona of Prince Robert the II of Valehaven. He was an extremely charismatic leader, but more importantly he was a clever and wily GM, who went to great lengths and expense to immerse his players in the moment. He believed that if he could make his players feel, even for just a split second, that they were their characters and the world that he had constructed around them was real, then Potempkin-like, he had succeeded as a storyteller. Shannon once told me that the Realms was never a game, it was life, and that dangerous mix of reality and suspension of disbelief was always the mood that he strove to for in his events.
By 1990 the fairy tale was over. Shannon had been trying to run a game with upwards of 300 players for 2 and 1/2 years, and he was burnt out. Rather than try to get people to help him throw the games with him and delegate responsibility, he announced that he was leaving the game and abruptly killed off his character. He made no provisions for the game to continue under a new GM, and no indication that the break was temporary. The players were in a state of shock, both in and out of character. The 300 people that he had been throwing his events for had grown into a tight knit community, and I think the thought of losing our connection with each other and ending the wonderful story that was unfolding inside the game was too much.
At the suggestion of a friend I arranged and facilitated a Realms players meeting at Mount Holyoke College where we discussed what to do. The 120 or so people who attended came to the conclusion that there was not one person who could take over and run the game the way Shannon had. It was not that we were not as talented as he was, but owing to a back injury that paid him workman's compensation but did not require him to be at work, he had more free time than anyone else we knew. Also, a new person running the whole game would change the tone of it, and by appointing someone else to be in charge we opened ourselves up to a repeat of Shannon's abandonment. Instead, we came to the consensus that anybody who wanted to could throw an event in the universe of the Realms. Anybody could be an eventholder, even if that person had never attended an event. We would take the existing rules and form a council of interested people who would meet once a year to make any necessary rule changes and publish those rules on an annual basis. A new person was appointed to take over the publication of the newsletter, and the game went on.
Perhaps that does not sound so amazing, but think about it. There is not a cohesive plot line that runs throughout our universe. There is no single person in charge of the game’s continued operation. There is no one who makes executive decisions. There is no-one in charge and we like it that way. We feel that anyone can have a good, viable idea for a plot line and character development, and that given the right support structure can tell a good story through live gaming. We are open to the possibilities that there can be multiple story tellers moving characters around and making them jump through hoops at the same time. It is true that we have given up a couple of things that are standard features that can be found at more generic live fantasy roleplaying games, like a certain degree of consistent game play, and a universe whose natural laws are set in stone. At the same time we have gained many types of story telling possibilities, a system that allows someone to be both a GM and a player; a true consensual reality where facets of the world that are intriguing or well thought out continue, but failed ideas or awkward game mechanics are discarded or altered almost immediately; a continuously evolving game at the players discretion.
Currently the Realms is still being run by a version of the council that I helped set up. It is now made up of event-holders rather than people who are just interested. We meet once a year at the beginning of the event season to hash out problems we have run into over the last year and changes in the fighting, safety or magic rules. The event-holders are not paid for their time. We hardly ever make a serious profit at one of our events. Few of us run more than two events a year, but the event-holders meeting usually has 30 qualified people show up to it. It is never the same 30 people. We do have an official book that we publish the rules in, called the "Omnibus to the Realms", but it is up to the individual event-holder to determine whether or not they will allow a rule to be in effect at their game. Some rules vary widely from region to region. In my character's lands, Chimeron, if a troll throws a boulder and it hits you anywhere, even if it just grazes you, you are dead and your armor and weapons are crushed; but in Darkvale, under a different GM, that same boulder might kill you, but not destroy your armor. Because event-holders are responsible for supplying their own insurance and their own event sites, and are ultimately liable as an individual (and not as part of an official organization) , they can choose to modify whatever rules they wish to suit their own needs. There are also few qualifications to be an eventholder; you must throw an event using the Omnibus rules and publishing any rule changes you might have in advance, your event must have at least 30 people in attendance, players must have the option to play their usual characters, and you must notify the community that your event will be happening within 30 days of its date either by notifying the "View From Valehaven" or by separate flyer or e-mail to at least 50% of the current event-holders.
My roommate, Ryan Smart, shakes his head on a daily basis when I talk about how we reach decisions, how the universe changes from event to event, how magic items work at one event, but then have a different effect at the next. He keeps asking me how I can stand it, (and I think it is driving him nuts that I find nothing unusual with it), but I think that people who are used to theater style, or GM controlled live roleplaying could learn a lot from a community based system like ours. For example, from the Intercons that I have been to, I have seen that the GM gets very wrapped up in trying to control the flow and direction of the game and making it come to a point with specific closure. In the Realms that is just not possible. I have to plan my events knowing that any outcome might happen depending on what the players and the other event-holders attending my event decide to do. The players might have a triumphant victory, or every last character might be dead at the end of the day because Steve Johnson the event-holder came to me and asked if one his monsters could show up a "do a little plot thing for my event". I could have decided that the big award ceremony happens at 6 p.m. followed by the feast, but be sitting waiting for the players to get back to the tavern because some other event-holder's plot-line has run right through the center of my tourney field, leading the fighters on a merry chase. I may have planned a way for the characters to get out of the dungeon, but because Chris the event-holder granted the ability to "smash rocks" to a player at a previous event, the players decide to punch a hole out of the dungeon and saunter back to camp leaving my NPCs waiting for action. Sure, I could tell them that it just does not work, or "that didn't really happen" but I should also reward players for handling a situation creatively, and back up my fellow event-holder so he backs me up at a later date. I think that GMs from theater style games could learn a lot about creative GM-ing from participating in the Realms. Our GMs have to abandon the concept that they are in control of what the world is like and be flexible about changes in mid game. They have to realize that anything is possible in our game and to reward clever thinking in player and GM alike. They need to be extremely sensitive to shifts in the action of the game and most importantly realize that they are not the final say in the plot line, and that they are not really in control. A frightening thought for all the non Realms GMs I know.
The "View From Valehaven" is currently** being successfully published by Amy and Steve Johnson, who can be reached at Valehaven@aol.com, should anyone be interested in more information. They also have a web page (doesn't everybody now?) http://users.aol.com/valehaven/index.html. Or you could show up to Intercon 13, and saunter into the Bar and Wench, sit down and ask Lady Cassia for a drink, and chat with Sir Shane who’s on guard duty. He can point out Queen Meg the Fighting Barmaid to you, if you ask real nice, and he'll tell you the story of how he saved her from a fate worse than death at the hands of the dogs of war at her own event.
Katherine Journeay
Knight of the Realms
qmeg@chimeron.net
**[Editor's note: This information was current in 1997. Circa 2005, the View is published by Douglas Fisher who can be reached at metron2001@gmail.com and the Realms webpage can be found at http://www.realmsnet.net ]
[Editor's Editor's note: Hahahahaha. The Realmsnet webpage information remains true, though.]
Special Effects
also first published in MetaGame magazine
The live combat game that I have played in for the last 9 years is called The Realms of Wonder, or alternately, The Realms. Traditionally when we throw events our focus has been less on story telling and more on trying to create a perfect moment where the terror and the exhilaration of the combat serves as a vehicle to sever our ties to the present and give us a glimpse of what actually living in a world of our own creation might be like. Sometimes it has worked, and sometimes it has been a dismal failure. When it has worked, it has often been through the judicious application of special effects. The effective use of these enhancements, whether by the Realms or by any other LARP is controlled by three factors that the game master needs to take into account: cost, safety and technical difficulty. An analysis of these factors and a controlled environment in which to perform the effects is what make their use successful in a live combat game.
Safety is the consideration that is nearest and dearest to my heart. The Realms are somewhat fanatical about the safety of our participants, but that has not stopped various game masters from doing incredibly stupid things because they wanted to pull off a cool special effect. As a general safety point, any special effect should be easily operable in the dark. The Realms knows this from experience because we do a lot of night questing. A special effect that does not go off because you cannot find the "on" button in the dark is not a special effect at all. Effects, especially extensions to your NPC's bodies like horns, claws and glowing lights need to be "boff safe". That means that they have to be able to withstand being hit by a boff weapon without being destroyed, and they also cannot inflict any damage to a boff weapon. In the Realms combat system the only things that can legally strike an opponent are a safe boffer weapon or a beanbag. A weapon that has had a large hunk of foam torn out of it because it hit the crown on the head of your king demon is not safe. Especially on a night quest when it is harder to spot check your own weapon in low level lighting. Also, the game master and her special effects master need to think ahead and trouble shoot what kind of residue the special effect will leave behind for the players and NPCs to trip and stumble on in the dark.
This is a good example of what is not safe on the field. I NPCed at an event where at the high point of the night quest was the sacrifice of one of the players on the altar of Demonicus. The altar was a raised platform that had been specially constructed for this event with a large hole in the middle of it. The player, Sir Con'f, was placed on the altar with his head, shoulders and arms on top of the altar and his body and legs through the hole. A fake body and legs were placed where his real ones would go, and the join was covered with a tabard. In the dark it looked like Sir Con'f was just lying on the altar. Also in the empty space under the altar was the guy who was playing Demonicus in his demon mask, large handfuls of red jell-o sculpted to look like various internal organs, and a smoke machine. The effect was supposed to look like this. The players crest the hill, they see Con’f on the altar. Con’f begins to writhe in torment, ominous smoke seeps out from underneath the altar. Con’f screams in pain and his lower body rips open flinging internal organs about and a full sized Demonicus steps out from his guts to blast the players. What actually happened was that the smoke from the smoke machine got trapped underneath the altar making the NPC playing Demonicus hack and choke because of the chemical smell and lack of oxygen. Demonicus didn’t leap out of the body, he flung himself out so that he could find breathable air and collapsed on top of Con’f gasping. Not what the game master had planned. With a little forethought we could have either done away with the smoke, moved the smoke to a different location, ventilated the smoke, given the NPC an oxygen mask, actually rehearsed the stunt or even picked an NPC to play the role who didn’t have a reduced lung capacity (another surprise, "Demonicus" only had a one lung that was functioning normally)
Another thing to keep in mind when planning special effects; are you technically capable of pulling the effect off in a believable fashion? A good example of this is the Floating Head at an event called Swamp Fling. The game master had arranged to hang a styrofoam ball from the trees on the path that the night quest was going to take. He had also arranged a film projector to throw an image of someone's face talking onto the ball. Unfortunately, when the players came upon the effect, it was painfully obvious even in the dark that it was a glowing styrofoam ball and not a glowing floating head. The event-holder had tried to do more than he was capable of pulling off, and it had the effect of breaking the willing suspension of disbelief that the players had maintained up until that point. It was silly rather than terrifying. On the flip side of that, I once had a friend of mine who sculpts foam make a tree for an event I threw called Feast of Chimeron V. The magic sword that the players were looking for was supposed to be hidden in a tree, but there wasn’t a tree with a hollow large enough to fit the sword in on site. So my friend, Jeffo, made a portable, hollow, tree stump. He constructed it with 2 x 4s and chicken wire, then wrapped couch foam around the outside and carved the foam into rough furrows that looked remarkably like oak bark, then spray painted the whole thing bark colored. The top of the stump (complete with blackened growth rings) had a slit in it that the sword slid into. I walked by the thing three times myself before I realized that it wasn’t real. Why this worked and the head didn’t was because I found someone with the technical capability to pull it off.
Once we had an NPC who was a scuba diver. During an event that involved a lot of running up and down a stream bed he hid in the water. When players tried to cross the stream he would surge up out of the water waving a sword, covered with reeds and marsh grasses. The players were scared witless every time even after the rumor went around that there was a river monster., because they never expected the monster to be IN the water. Again, that effect worked because we knew someone who had the equipment and the ability to carry out the stunt safely. Another example of a technical effect that worked: last year I co-held an event with Chris "Lackey" Chaney called What Fools These Mortals Be. We had released seven magic swords over the course of 5 years, and for the climax of the plot line we decided that we wanted to have the wielders of the swords turned into demons right in front of everyone. The question became, how were we going to do that without storytelling it? How were we going to get the players to remember a demonic transformation that was scary and not awkward or controlled too obviously by the GMs? In the end we bought 7 car headlights and hooked them up to battery packs. We then positioned the lights around the edge of a clearing facing inward. During the night quest, every time someone wielding one of these magic swords entered the clearing, one of the lights went on, and the player was unable to leave the circle. When the last sword entered the circle, the seventh light went on... and then they all went out at once. The destruction of the other players night vision was what gave us time to get the masks and the cloaks onto the players wielding the swords. By the time people were able to see again, the clearing was filled with seven horned, cloaked demons. The ensuing mass hysteria is a moment that I will always remember with the deep sense of satisfaction that can only come from being a game master.
The lights that we used at What Fools These Mortals Be cost about $100. However, don't think that useful special effects need to be expensive. Some of the best special effects for live games are very affordable. One of my favorites involves cylume or light sticks. Cylume sticks are a staple of Realms events. They are the material component for a light spell in our system; it wouldn't be a night quest if there weren’t 3 or 4 people clustered around a scroll trying to read it by a cylume stick’s feeble glow. One of the other ways that we use cylume sticks is to make a star field. Just after it begins to become fully dark take 7 or 8 matching light sticks. Crack them and shake them up to activate all the chemical inside. Attach one end of a light stick to a string that is 12 to 18 inches long. Now poke a hole in the other end of the light stick. Standing in the middle of a path that the players are going to walk down, whirl the light stick around your head, splattering the glowing liquid on the ground, the leaves and the overhanging trees. It should take about 7 or 8 light sticks to mark a path about 30 feet long. To walk down the path through the stars at night is very disorienting and very eerie. If you coat one of your NPCs with the same splatter effect and stick them just to the side of the path they are virtually invisible to the players and create quite a stir when they leap out and attack. Another inexpensive special effect also uses light. 4 or 5 years ago I bought a whole bunch of mini floral lights on sale for $2 a set.
Essentially, they are a very short string of miniature Christmas tree lights, they run off of two AA batteries and have a simple on/off switch. You can find them in craft stores or floral supply stores and they are meant to add light points to special floral arrangements. I use mine for everything. I incorporated them into King Oberon's cloak of leaves so it looks like he has little light fairies trapped in his cloak. Players on night quests are like moths; they are attracted to light. Because these mini lights have an on/off switch, I have strung them in bushes and used the on/off switch to draw specific players in the direction I want them to go. I once also had the opportunity to play The Earth Goddess for an "underground" dungeon crawl. The costume I made for the role was painted with lichen designs in glow in the dark paint. I also took those same mini lights and attached them to a staff, disguising the wires as creeping vines and kept my hand over the switch and battery pack. Whenever the Earth Goddess got angry or cast a spell, I turned the lights on for effect.
I don’t really recommend spending large amounts of money on special effects. For one thing, I believe that if an effect can’t be done for less than $100, then it's just not worth doing for most live combat LARPs. It is important to balance the desire to impress your players with the very real financial constraint of at least breaking even. Smoke machines, for example, are very tempting to rent, especially for controlled indoor environments, but they break all the special effects rules. They are usually finicky and difficult to operate, especially in the dark. If you rent one you have to rent the machine (after leaving a deposit) and buy the chemicals to make the smoke and it's generally $75 to $100 a day. Often, even if you get it cranked up and running well, there is generally someone in the party who either has asthma or is allergic to the smoke. In my opinion, smoke machines are just not a good bang for your buck. This impromptu FX checklist can also easily be used for more traditional IL style games with the caveat that an investment in permanent props and other equipment may not be as feasible from a financial perspective for theater style game masters. In live combat games with an ongoing story, the cost of special effects can be recouped over an entire event season if necessary (though I don’t recommend it), where most theater style games are either one-shots or are run only infrequently.
If you take away one thought from this article it should be that special effects need to be appropriate, believable and affordable as well as safe. Only when the game master has taken account of all these factors will the use of special effects in a live combat game create a truly spectacular moment that stays in the players mind long after the game is over.
Tips for the Duelist
The Swashbuckling genre lends itself well to live roleplaying, but not all forms of live roleplaying lend themselves well to the Swashbuckling genre. Clunky combat resolution systems make the genre's trademark action packed, viewer friendly, suspense filled dramas become slow moving, game master mediated, boring interludes about rules. Conflict and the swift change of fortunes are at the heart of this style of game, and it demands a combat system that can support its story telling challenges. In this humble (stick jock) opinion, Live Combat is the perfect companion for a swashbuckling game if for no other reason than it allows, as no other combat system can, the possibility for believable duels. A good duel involves not just the combatants but the entire game, some as spectators, some as marshals or seconds.
The Right Way to Slap With a Glove: Since most live roleplaying games I have ever been in prohibit contact of any kind between players, care must be taken if you want to properly challenge someone to a duel. Even live combat games usually mandate weapon to weapon contact only, which ostensibly makes the traditional slap across the face with a glove unviable. However with care it can still be done, creating a wonderfully dramatic moment. Take a glove, preferably leather, and hold it loosely in your hand like a bouquet of flowers, with the fingers of the glove left to dangle free from the ends of your fist. When you approach the person you wish to challenge to a duel hold the glove so that they can see it. Your grand challenge speech should leave no doubt as to the fact that the glove is coming for them. Do not surprise them with the hit. The key to doing this safely is making sure that the person being slapped knows that the blow is coming and that they can see where the glove is at all times. Be aware that the person you are aiming for may find that level of realism too intimidating. If they shake their head at you or step out of your range, do NOT follow through with the slap, but save the dramatic moment by throwing the glove at their feet and delivering the challenge that way. When you deliver the slap, aim for the fleshy part of the face below the cheek line with the glove's fingers. Do not wind your arm back like a baseball player, you should not be hitting the person hard. Often the sound of the leather fingers hitting each other will convey the sound of the slap and make it look like you hit much harder than you did. Neither do you have to hit fast, just bring the glove tips across the face. With the slap delivered, hurl the glove to the floor between you disdainfully and name the time and place.
If you are the one being challenged and you do not want the glove to connect with your face there are many ways to convey this to the person who is standing there holding the glove without having to break character and tell the player that you don't want to go that far. You can shake your head slightly at the player, effectively waving them off from the action. You can take one step back so that you are out of range. If the player with the glove fails to understand that you don't want to be hit, catch the end of the gloves in mid flight and hold it, or put up your arm and allow the glove to strike your arm instead of your face.
If you don't mind receiving the slap, turn your cheek away from the slap at the moment of impact. It will lessen the force of the blow, which should not be great in any case, and make it look like the gloves connected with force. Any physical contact with another player needs to be negotiated ahead of time if possible. However, the inherent nature of duels often means that things will build to a head before the players have had the opportunity to discuss how they feel about it. Play safe, play smart, listen to each other's verbal cues, watch each other carefully and you can have a successful, dramatic moment that will be the highlight of your game.
Where and When: Traditionally the challenger determines the where and when of the bout and the challenged gets to select the weapons. Pick a time for the fight that is likely to work for the Game Master. Also, bear in mind that a duel is very much a spectator sport. Unless it is illegal to duel in character, your duel should be public and well publicized to let as much of the game participate as possible. Pick a time when you are likely to get a good crowd. Choose a spot for the fight that is level, that leaves you both room to maneuver and also has enough space to accommodate your seconds, your adoring fans and the game photographer. The GM is going to want to get a good shot of this. You are going to want to figure all this out before you challenge so you can have a snappy answer when your enemy responds to your challenge with "Name the time and place!"
On the Use of Seconds: Selecting a "squire" or a "second" is as vital to a duel as selecting the proper weapon. From a meta perspective, it gets another player directly involved in the action of the duel, spreading the fun around a little. From a purely practical standpoint, you will need someone to hold your cloak, your doublet and your hat. Your second can check your armor for gaps and the dueling ground for dangerous terrain. Of course if you lose, he will be able to safeguard your effects from the dishonorable bastard who ran you through and arrange for the proper disposal of your remains. You want to make sure that the person you pick is as good as or better than you with a weapon, because if you were to suddenly become incapacitated before the combat, this person will be fighting instead of you. You don't want to be sending your buddy to an early grave because you fell and twisted your ankle on the way to the duel.
To the Death?: Make the terms of your duel very carefully. You do not need to declare to what length the duel will go at the time of the challenge. This is another reason to pick your second carefully, because they can negotiate how far this duel is going to go while you are busy staring down your opponent menacingly. You don’t always have to fight to the death, just until you are satisfied that honor has been served. That can be until first blood, until one of you agrees to yield the fight to the other, or by any of the methods listed below.
Beyond Sabers at Dawn:
Corsican Mug Fighting: Each duelist is armed with a single short sword in his or her primary hand. In the off hand the duelists are armed only with a mug half to three quarters full of "beer"**. I recommend metal or hardened leather mugs, something that will not break if it hits the ground forcefully. The object is to kill your opponent in between sips of your "beer" using only your sword and your witty repartee to defend yourself. You may not spill more than three drops of your "beer". However, just chugging your drink and advancing with an empty mug at your opponent is considered poor form. This type of duel requires close attention by the marshal for counting spills. Extra credit should be given for style.
**Not real beer of course, because I know that none of our readers would ever be stupid enough to drink and fight. Oh no. Never.
The Bear Pit: This is basically what happens when a lone fighter challenges her three or four combatants to honorable combat. The challenger and her first opponent engage while the others wait their turn and observe without interfering. The challenger proves her point if she can make it through all comers without dying, keeping her wounds through all the bouts. This duel can be run several ways including having the wounds seen to between bouts, and rather than having the duel end with a loss on the part of the challenger, each loss brings a removal of an item of clothing. When the challenge is run in this fashion, the name is usually changed to "The Bare Pit"**.
**Please don't run these types of fights when I am around. I have seen enough terrible fighters who think they are studly to last me a lifetime.
The Dagger Duel: Not all duels happen between knights or characters who can afford a sword. A dagger fight between two peasants or street urchins can be just as exciting as a bout between a Musketeer and a Cardinal's Guard. Live combat dagger fighting is swift and vicious. However the tradition that calls for the two fighters to be tied together at the wrist during a knife fight just does not work with boff weapons. You just end up cutting off the arm that is tied to you and that is the end of it. Boring fight. It also breaks the no physical contact rule. However, if you have seen that Michael Jackson video one too many times and just have to try it, declare the arms that are tied together off target. At least this way the fight will last longer and be more interesting to watch.