Back After a very long time where the families went their separate ways, members of our Tribe converged at two events in the long, hot month of August. This was a time eagerly anticipated by all, as we would surely be reunited with lost brothers and sisters and friends from other traveling groups. Alas, these events were the exact opposite of each other. As is my duty, I shall retell our experiences, bad and good, to the best of my ability.
Our journey begins at Dragonvale. We Gypsies have been to Dragonvale many times before, sometimes in a beautiful, lush area surrounded by thick grass and engulfed in shade by abundant trees...other times in a miserable dirt pit where there was no refuge from the sun except in our meager encampment. But nothing prepared us for the living hell that was to befall us.
It was as if a Dragon itself had visited this place, strafing the ground with hellfire and decimating the land so that there were only tufts of dying weeds. The climate matched the area: dry, hot and miserable. I am happy to report that we Gypsies survived these two days with few casualties and even made the most of our time.
Following one our of our incredible stage performances (in that we could energetically perform without passing out), we musicians were pulled into the neighboring Black Gryphon pirate encampment. The Queen herself was seeking refuge from the heat and bid us to play so that the pirates may entertain her with their dancing. So we played, and the pirates danced. But this dancing was not what we were accustomed to, as the Pirate Captain and his mates jumped upon the benches and tables and gyrated to our drum beats in a manner we have never seen or hope to see again. Relief was provided when two girls from the Wilds suddenly appeared, danced with animalistic passion, then left as abruptly as they arrived. We were offered ice cold food and drink for our troubles.
The birthday of our Rombaro Nicolai was celebrated, and this event marked the return of Shouva to our fold after a long absence. But there is not much more to tell. Suffice it to say, just living out the two days was accomplishment enough.
The following week, the Tribe celebrated its seventh anniversary at the Long Beach Renaissance Arts Festival, this time adjacent to the ocean. This place offered grass, trees and a blissful ocean breeze. Compared to Dragonvale, this was paradise.
And there was an unusual dance exhibition here as well, this time of our own making. The Gypsy women formed a contest to determine who could best entice a man with their dance (as if such a contest is really necessary!). To be equitable, men were allowed to participate as well. Members of the Spanish court were recruited to act as judges for the ladies. We Chergari provided the judge for the men--an unsuspecting abductee from a nearby vendor.
Very well, I shall relate this story first. In my travels through the festival, I was stopped by a merchant who exclaimed "You are a Gypsy, aren't you!" Before I could answer, she bade me to find her daughter and abduct her into our encampment. This is our would-be victim's first experience at such a festival, and we were to show her what Faire was all about. I rounded up Django and Grikor, and, after much searching, we found our mark.
"How about this one?" asked Django as he approached a tall, slender lass with long blonde hair. "Let us see her teeth...good! There are some left! But her hands, they have never seen work! Bah, she'll do!" With this, Django hoisted her on his back and brought her, kicking and screaming, back to our encampment. It was not long after that she found herself one of the guests of honor for a most unusual afternoon's entertainment.
The contest began with the rhythmic pulsing of primal music. One after the other, Gypsy women approached the two befuddled Spaniards and flaunted their nubile charms in exhibitions of sensuality, slithering and, in some cases, soaking. Some men even joined in. It was, as they say, the most fun one can have with your clothes still on. While our young guest was both shocked and bemused, our Spanish guests were overwhelmed. They were unable to make any judgement and declared all the participants the victors. I shall pronounce the same for us musicians.
Is there more to tell? I could describe how a tall ship nearly landed at the festival, charged to deport the Vanyushas for their nefarious deeds. But the vessel was twice repelled by a flurry of cannon and musket fire--it appears the Vanyushas have some powerful allies!
Now we are setting forth toward Coventry in the shire of Santa Barbara to visit our newly acquired homeland. I have been informed we may be pressed into defending it once more. I do hope you will join me.
Until then, I remain obediently yours, Gavril
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