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Live-Action Role-Players Get Boffed in Amtgard

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McCall's foray into the arts-and-­science aspect of Amtgard has been to make his own medieval beer, Silverbrew, which, at 30 proof, is a potent and quick way to unwind after running around the park. McCall came to Amtgard six years ago via the Society for Creative Anachronism, and he's a proactive king — trying to arrange more battles between the Houston and DFW kingdoms, and just generally promoting his kingdom online and at events.

On the battlefield, sporting wraparound shades and a diamond earring, he delights in the chance to take on the Corpus Monstrom fighters, at least one of whom is running around with a 14-foot foam-headed spear. Another Monstrom is running around with a bad case of sexism.

During one skirmish, a Monstrom comes within striking distance of 23-year-old Limbo, a.k.a. Megan Perrin of La Marque, only to lean in and say, "I don't kill women." Shortly after laughing her ass off, she tells a teammate, who says — loud enough for most on the field to hear — "Being sexist in this is just going to get you killed by a girl."

By now, Germ is back in the fray, darting around like the Tasmanian Devil, busted lip be damned. It's nothing compared to that one battle where he hyperextended his knee and saw it swell to the size of a cantaloupe.

Today's battle is a ditch-fight, a sort of informal scrimmage where the players line up on opposite sides of the field and charge each other at once. For the most part, they collide in a cluster of flailing swords and flying shields. Each skirmish is over in less than a minute. But it's an intense, exhilarating minute, repeated over several hours. Walking back to his line after one such skirmish, over the smack-talk and vows of vengeance, a voice rises above the mix. It's Silvertip, King of the Wetlands.

"You know what's cool about this?" he says to no one in particular. "We all go back to our starting points and do it again."

craig.malisow@houstonpress.com

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