Fighting goblins and ogres in a Georgia park
For fans of live action role-playing games, true adventure is only a performance away.
from the March 30, 2007 edition
Page 4 of 4
What the heck. I tagged along with a quickly assembled fellowship. After a short walk, we came to a dungeon whose door was bound by four different colored ribbons: red, yellow, black, and white – and a riddle: "Sought by those of wicked arts, hidden within loathsome hearts."
Pull the wrong ribbon and who knew what would happen. We guessed "black" might be the answer and yanked the corresponding ribbon. The door opened and we entered the cave unscathed. Ahead stood a frozen statue in the gloom. If we didn't answer the second clue correctly, it would attack. We guessed all three riddles, and brought back the booty: something called the Idol of Forbidden Knowledge. Uh-oh.
That night, the moon rose like a Viking ship on a sea of clouds. I didn't sleep well. When a black-shrouded spirit wandered past my bunk, wielding a white sword, I couldn't tell if it was real or a dream.
A battle for hearts and minds
By weekend's end, even a man of peace such as myself could appreciate the rush of battle. But what had ultimately made the LARP alluring was not the play violence, but the camaraderie.
It was Sunday morning. Saphrin, from the Arabian-like Desert of Brass kingdom, complained to Magnus, a bull-headed warrior, about how to best rule their town.
"Your world extends no farther than the end of your sword," Magnus said to the gathered crowd.
"What is needed is two councils," Saphrin said, arguing for a plan. "A council of war, and one for domestic matters."
Nothing was resolved. The story would have to be continued at another weekend.
Chris Jones, who is in a seminary, will likely be at a future event to reprise his roles as both Magnus and Leif Thorsson. He credits his wife, Rachel, for drawing him into LARPs. "She's the reason I do this," he says. "She wanted to be a fairy."
As for me, Ethor, I began to miss the quieter moments, like comparing made-up worlds with a pointy-eared goblin named Heinrich. Completely in character, I described mine, dotted with alabaster fortresses. He told me of his, a subterranean Goblin City with belching factories straight out of Dickens.
I hoped Heinrich would stay. He seemed happier in the Forest of Doors than back home – wherever that was.
RSS feed
