In the Year of our Lord Two Thousand and Twenty-Five, upon the Third Day of April, from the hour of high noon ’til the second chime past, the noble realm of Woodcrest was beset by revelry most wondrous and wild. ‘Twas upon the verdant greens near the Rush encampment that Omega Psi Phi Sorority did host a most daring and chivalrous Live Action Role Play. Gathered under heaven’s eye were fraternities, sororities, and many gallant folk besides. The air brimmed with cheer, jest, and tankards filled with the spirits of modern delight.
At the helm of an inquisition stood one Lady Abbie Vicious, keeper of ale and enforcer of castle law, adorned in raiments most fair and bearing a wit sharper than the executioner’s axe. With a mock court assembled, she did lay judgment upon Sir Yosh and Sir Rhys, who stood accused of grave crimes such as “misuse of martial knowledge” and “questionable hat choices.”
“Have ye learned thine lesson?” Lady Abbie did inquire, eyeing the captives as she hovered a tankard above their heads. The squires, bound by neck and wrist, responded with a mixture of jest and feigned groveling. Sir Rhys did protest his innocence with great flair, offering instead to instruct the lady in the ancient arts of “carrot” — nay, karate.
“Do not teach her, brother!” cried Sir Rhys to Sir Yosh, “’Tis a trap most cunning!”
Lady Abbie threatened dousing by ale barrel. “Do not test me, noble fool,” she proclaimed. “My barrels overfloweth!”
Sir Yosh, though royal in bearing and moisturized with oils of Eastern realms, could not escape his soggy fate. In an ‘accident’ most suspicious, Lady Abbie did stumble and cast her drink upon his noble brow, declaring, “Oopsie! At least thou art moist now!”
The gathering crowd bore witness with great amusement. One Sam of Roseride, known for her devilish grin and wandering affections, suggested pies be thrown for further jollity and even eyed cream and crust with dangerous intent.
The fair maiden Vivi suffered an errant splash during the commotion, her locks dampened by the errant enthusiasm of Sir Rhys. Yet she forgave the act, claiming magnanimity befitting a queen-in-waiting: “I was to wash my hair upon return to the dormitory,” she declared, petting a dog as though all were well.
Tensions mounted as the castle’s secrets hung in the balance — would the brothers of Sigma Kai reveal their “dojo knowledge” in exchange for freedom? “Nay!” they cried. “The secrets of our sacred order shall not fall to ale nor beauty!”
Lady Abbie leaned close with promise and peril. “Tell me thy secrets,” she whispered, “and perhaps mercy shall be yours.” She poured drinks with a flourish, doled threats with delight, and maintained her dominion over the soggy squires with the poise of a barmaid-turned-queen.
Thus ended the siege with tankard and laughter. The squires endured their trial with jest, and the townsfolk cheered the spectacle.
