Estrella War XVIIII

Authors note: Estrella War is an actual gathering of the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA). It happens every year over Valentine's Day weekend at Estrella Mountain Park, just outside of Phoenix, Arizona. On the average, eight to ten thousand people come from all over the world to fight in this war. We put on armor, take up weapons and step onto a prepared field of battle where we beat each other senseless, all in the name of good fun. There are only three things to do at war; drink, fight, or fuck. If you can't get laid at Estrella War you just haven't had enough to drink.

Saturday night is the big party night at war. Everybody fights Saturday morning, cleans up and goes out to have a blast. I was no exception. I'd been in a couple of battles that morning and the showers in the afternoon. I was dressed in my best and ready to party.

We were going to try a different idea this year. Normally you wander from encampment to encampment searching for a good time. The best parties are usually at Thunder, Keg's End, or The Morbid Deviants. Well, this year we decided to try a rolling party. Osito brought out a wagon and we mounted a keg of beer to it. We hung extra mugs from the sides and we were off.

As we rolled out of the encampment our first stops were the encampments around us. We met everyone sociably and they all thought the rolling party idea was a good one. When we had exhausted them we moved on through the park stopping here and there to introduce ourselves and pass around some beer. Mollo is an exceptional singer and he regaled each encampment with a different tune, never repeating himself except by request.

Finally we came to our first destination, Keg's End. We met and talked with several of the members there but it was still early, being nine o'clock or so. So... nothing was really happening. We decided to move on and indeed at least a third of the party followed us. Free beer was not to be missed.

As we left Keg's End our first adventure of the evening came to pass. We were walking down the avenue between encampments when we heard an exclamation from one of the encampments. I turned to look and all I saw was this dress making a beeline for us.

I couldn't really focus on the dress until it had stopped moving. It stopped moving when it became attached to Mollo. As I finally focused on the dress I found it to be filled by a very large woman. She was about five and a half feet tall, and about four feet across. She had very nice blonde hair and a fairly decent face. Many of the women at war tend to wear dresses that accentuate their upper respiratory development. She was no exception although she certainly did not need the help. Her chest probably had it's own zip code.

She had pinned Mollo to the keg and already had one hand deep into his shirt. All she kept repeating was "You are my new husband and I will make you so happy." Now Mollo looked pretty scared. Imagine some one who is six foot six inches tall and weighs four hundred pounds looking scared. The dress finally grabbed Mollo's hand and started trying to pull him into her encampment.

It was obvious that Mollo didn't want to go. It was also just as obvious that he wasn't going to hurt the girl. So I was a little confused on how to help him. I looked at the other members of our party. Now to truly appreciate this I need to mention that at six feet two inches and three hundred pounds I'm the smallest guy here. As I met the eyes of the rest of our party they each looked from Mollo to me and shrugged. By consensus we decreed that the Mollo would have to face this danger himself.

I was startled when the dress called for help and six other women came out and latched onto Mollo. All the women were sized equally to the first although the chests were not quite as big. They started dragging him towards the encampment, pulling on his hands, his belt and pushing him from behind. We watched him disappear into a tent and waved a cheerful goodbye after he could no longer see us. We picked up our party and moved on.