Back in August of 1998, I was just entering college at the University
. Having fenced all throughout high school
, I decided
to go to a Fencing Illini
practice to see whether I wanted to keep fencing
So I get to the Armory, where the club meets, at about 6:30 PM--the
time that the website said practice usually starts. Well, the page
didn't mention that no one ever shows up before 7:00, so I had thirty minutes
with nothing to do.
I put my fencing knickers and shoes on, stretched out for a while,
and decided to run a few laps around the track for a while to warm myself
up while I waited for people to show up.
After a lap or two, I start hearing an odd clinking behind me--the sound
of two pieces of metal grating against each other. Half a lap later,
it still hasn't gone away. So I turn around, and see a guy in full
battle gear and armor waving a mace around about ten feet behind
me. When he sees I've finally noticed him, he starts screaming, "ARRRRRR!
I'LL CUT YA NOW, YE PANSY MODERN FENCER!!!" before speeding up and chasing
me around the track. I bolted, managing to lose him in a back corridor
That was my first and only experience with the Society for Creative