Medieval Batman
July 13, 2012 10:15 AM Subscribe
I am the god-damned Knight of the Sign of the Bat, forsooth!
posted by yoink at 10:21 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
posted by yoink at 10:21 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
He would have looked like Sauron?
posted by papercake at 10:24 AM on July 13, 2012 [5 favorites]
posted by papercake at 10:24 AM on July 13, 2012 [5 favorites]
I'm peeved that we don't get to see The Jester's costume as well.
posted by hermitosis at 10:26 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
posted by hermitosis at 10:26 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
I really need some armor boffin mefite to come in and explain the parts of this that would be super impractical because otherwise it will bug me all day long. SURELY THOSE SHOULDER THINGYS.
posted by elizardbits at 10:26 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
posted by elizardbits at 10:26 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
As a Feudal Lord, Lord Wayne has a nominal responsibility to the peasants who are bonded to his land but mostly he would be engaging in ritualized combat with neighboring lords and expected to pay homage to a culturally important but military impotent king or Emperor.
posted by The Whelk at 10:27 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by The Whelk at 10:27 AM on July 13, 2012
Well a lot of Fancy Armor was purely ornamental by the end of the Lets Wear Tons Of Metal And Flounce About era.
posted by The Whelk at 10:28 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
posted by The Whelk at 10:28 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
I don't know how he'd fly around in all the steel. Middle Ages Batman would have used some sort of "high tech" extremely expensive, mobile scale armor I think, over dyed black leather.
What's in the OP is more like special occasion armor for fighting Lord Killer Croc or Duke Bain.
posted by 2bucksplus at 10:30 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
What's in the OP is more like special occasion armor for fighting Lord Killer Croc or Duke Bain.
posted by 2bucksplus at 10:30 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
Sooooo, he's Shredder?
posted by Tavern at 10:30 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
posted by Tavern at 10:30 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
I'd greenlight this movie!
posted by Renoroc at 10:31 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
posted by Renoroc at 10:31 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
In Ye Olde Criminal Justice System, the peasants are represented by three separate, yet equally important groups. The sheriff, who investigates crime, the hangman, who hangs the offenders, and The Knight Of The Sign Of The Bat. These are their stories.
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 10:32 AM on July 13, 2012 [13 favorites]
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 10:32 AM on July 13, 2012 [13 favorites]
ha, I mean Bane of course. Hard to keep my supervillains straight.
posted by 2bucksplus at 10:32 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by 2bucksplus at 10:32 AM on July 13, 2012
Lord Wayne has bankrupted his land, AGAIN, with his elaborate ritualized fights with the neighboring Lord Joykir and the Cat Queen. His rivals know to keep "losing" just enough to impoverish Wayne to make his lands that much easier to take - even if Wayne manages to hold on Prince Robin is a fool addicted to games and is likely to sell off all the top soil to buy more circus equipment.
posted by The Whelk at 10:34 AM on July 13, 2012 [6 favorites]
posted by The Whelk at 10:34 AM on July 13, 2012 [6 favorites]
I really need some armor boffin mefite to come in and explain the parts of this that would be super impractical
For one, the whole thing is made of leather rather than steel. It looks cool, would be easier to move it than steel, and should be lighter but it wouldn't offer nearly as much protection I don't think.
posted by VTX at 10:34 AM on July 13, 2012
For one, the whole thing is made of leather rather than steel. It looks cool, would be easier to move it than steel, and should be lighter but it wouldn't offer nearly as much protection I don't think.
posted by VTX at 10:34 AM on July 13, 2012
I read the post as "Lil Wayne" instead of "Lord Wayne," and now I really want the answer to that question.
posted by evidenceofabsence at 10:36 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
posted by evidenceofabsence at 10:36 AM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
I wonder what the Batcycle and the Batmobile would have looked like.
posted by crunchland at 10:46 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by crunchland at 10:46 AM on July 13, 2012
I wonder what the Batcycle and the Batmobile would have looked like.
Horses?
posted by Tomorrowful at 10:47 AM on July 13, 2012 [4 favorites]
Horses?
posted by Tomorrowful at 10:47 AM on July 13, 2012 [4 favorites]
Well a lot of Fancy Armor was purely ornamental by the end of the Lets Wear Tons Of Metal And Flounce About era.
I've seen fashion cycle several times through the same old crap. I think it's about time that metal was the new black.
Which would make black metal the new... furby?
posted by -harlequin- at 10:52 AM on July 13, 2012
I've seen fashion cycle several times through the same old crap. I think it's about time that metal was the new black.
Which would make black metal the new... furby?
posted by -harlequin- at 10:52 AM on July 13, 2012
Ned Stark could have used that utility belt.
posted by LordSludge at 10:53 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by LordSludge at 10:53 AM on July 13, 2012
Batcycle = Horse (maybe with barding in a similar style to the armor
Batmobile = Team of horses pulling a carriage
Batwing = Riding a dragon?
posted by VTX at 10:54 AM on July 13, 2012
Batmobile = Team of horses pulling a carriage
Batwing = Riding a dragon?
posted by VTX at 10:54 AM on July 13, 2012
"It's only a flesh wound!"
posted by crunchland at 11:01 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by crunchland at 11:01 AM on July 13, 2012
MY LORD FATHER AND LADY MOTHER ARE SLAIN!
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 11:07 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 11:07 AM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
Lord Wayne should blacken around his eyes, as is the fashion of his heirs a thousand years hence.
posted by -harlequin- at 11:12 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by -harlequin- at 11:12 AM on July 13, 2012
Ned Stark could have used that utility belt.
Having the bat sigil of House Lothston on her borrowed shield won Brienne no friends, though.
posted by Abiezer at 11:20 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
Having the bat sigil of House Lothston on her borrowed shield won Brienne no friends, though.
posted by Abiezer at 11:20 AM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
The Whelk: ... the Lets Wear Tons Of Metal And Flounce About era.
I'd have thought it'd be awfully hard to properly "flounce about" wearing that much, but maybe not.
posted by Greg_Ace at 11:35 AM on July 13, 2012
I'd have thought it'd be awfully hard to properly "flounce about" wearing that much, but maybe not.
posted by Greg_Ace at 11:35 AM on July 13, 2012
Needs a sick-ass guitar and some pyrotechnics.
posted by not_on_display at 11:38 AM on July 13, 2012
posted by not_on_display at 11:38 AM on July 13, 2012
The coolest part would be the mistrels singing, "Hey Nonny-nonny-nonny Nonny-nonny-nonny-nonny LORD WAAAYNE!"
posted by PlusDistance at 11:50 AM on July 13, 2012 [8 favorites]
posted by PlusDistance at 11:50 AM on July 13, 2012 [8 favorites]
It looks like he has an ordinary cape, which is better than modern Batman's suicide cape.
posted by homunculus at 12:04 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by homunculus at 12:04 PM on July 13, 2012
mobile scale armor I think, over dyed black leather.
Get real! Bats don't have scales, they have fur.
posted by sneebler at 12:12 PM on July 13, 2012
Get real! Bats don't have scales, they have fur.
posted by sneebler at 12:12 PM on July 13, 2012
I really need some armor boffin mefite to come in and explain the parts of this that would be super impractical because otherwise it will bug me all day long. SURELY THOSE SHOULDER THINGYS.
The way I understand it, you want armor to deflect the ouchy bits from your body and this thing has more hooks than Billboard Top 100 in the sixties.
posted by ersatz at 1:06 PM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
The way I understand it, you want armor to deflect the ouchy bits from your body and this thing has more hooks than Billboard Top 100 in the sixties.
posted by ersatz at 1:06 PM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
Batwing = Riding a dragon?
Regardless of era, the Batwing is always TOTALLY METAL.
posted by mightygodking at 1:14 PM on July 13, 2012
Regardless of era, the Batwing is always TOTALLY METAL.
posted by mightygodking at 1:14 PM on July 13, 2012
looks like it would get snagged on things. lots of weapons/branches getting caught in it, incidental impaling of your trusty steed/page, etc. maybe if your opponent is unarmored and fond of hugging would this suit be effective.
posted by camdan at 1:18 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by camdan at 1:18 PM on July 13, 2012
Well a lot of Fancy Armor was purely ornamental by the end of the Lets Wear Tons Of Metal And Flounce About era.
It's not even all that fancy by some standards.
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 1:36 PM on July 13, 2012
It's not even all that fancy by some standards.
posted by TheWhiteSkull at 1:36 PM on July 13, 2012
I feel he would have been at least Earl of Gotham, but otherwise it seems like a viable premise for a comic I would probably want to see.
posted by Segundus at 1:38 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by Segundus at 1:38 PM on July 13, 2012
There was Marvel 1602, but DC has yet to counterpunch. WE THE PEASANTS DEMAND LORD WAYNE!
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 1:58 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by Ghostride The Whip at 1:58 PM on July 13, 2012
If we're talking about the middle ages, wouldn't Lord Wayne be able to pick something much scarier than a bat?
Bubonic Plague Man?
Viking Man?
Infected Cut Man?
Moon-Eating-the-Sun Man?
The Protestant?
posted by PlusDistance at 2:04 PM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
Bubonic Plague Man?
Viking Man?
Infected Cut Man?
Moon-Eating-the-Sun Man?
The Protestant?
posted by PlusDistance at 2:04 PM on July 13, 2012 [3 favorites]
"You're a loony."
posted by Guy_Inamonkeysuit at 2:05 PM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
posted by Guy_Inamonkeysuit at 2:05 PM on July 13, 2012 [1 favorite]
Mongol Man. Does whatever a Mongol can.
posted by The Whelk at 2:05 PM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
posted by The Whelk at 2:05 PM on July 13, 2012 [2 favorites]
In the shaded woodlands of the Wendish Marches, on a mount above the village of Gottheim, there lived a most valiant knight. In his great wisdom and ingenuity he had served the profession of chivalry for many years and with a great deal of honor, and his fame was widely known throughout the world. His name was Count Thomas of Veen.
The count found himself at the advanced age of fifty-five, and moved by divine inspiration he decided to withdraw from the practice of arms and make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. This virtuous count felt sorrow and contrition for the many deaths he had caused in his youth, and he intended to dress in rags and practice physic along the path to the Holy Land, in the hopes of saving as many lives as he had ended.
He commended the care of his family and lands to his steward, Alfred, then gave a pious valediction to his wife and young son. But mother and child wept piteously that their lord should abandon them; until the count, moved, gave them leave to follow him as far as Venice.
At dawn on the feast of Saint George, the count, his wife, and his son descended from the manor, bare of foot and dressed in sackcloth. But the countess wore a pearl rosary at her hip, which shone against the dark sacking like a constellation; for though the count was humble in his own person, he was proud of his wife's status and could not bare but that she should keep some of her finery about her. Likewise, his son, Bertoldus, had with him his favorite toy, a little buckler that the count had brought back from the Emperor's wars in Valencia. It was of iron inlaid with silver and enameled with the black bat found in that land's heraldry.
While the family traveled through Gottheim and the count's direct demesne, they were greeted with joy by all they met, for the people loved the count for his clemence and the countess for her generosity. But as the sun sank low, they passed into the woods belonging to the most craven of the count's baron, Sir Joseph de Chilles. The baron was hunting a stag when he came upon the pilgrims, whom he failed to recognize in their rags; having had no luck in his pursuit of the beast, he thought to have some sport with the man.
"Hold!" cried the baron. "You trespass on the land I hold in trust from that great knight Thomas de Veen, who has it in gift from the Emperor himself. Thus you sin against every degree of earthly power."
Though the count was wroth with the baron for his arrogance, he had by dire vow surrendered every show of power; thus he replied with meek and quiet voice:
"If I wrong the emperor, it is only in service to He who calls every king his subject; for am I bound by oath to travel as straight as I may to Jerusalam."
The baron jeered at him, and drew his sword, and said: "And yet must we render unto Caesar what is Caesar's; and even unto Caesar's men their due. Thus I levy my proper toll: I will take the purse at your belt."
The count said no word, but surrendered his purse to the baron.
"And as well the cloth from your back."
The count said no word, but surrendered his cloak to the baron.
"I shall have too those beads at your wife's pretty hip."
The count said no word, but neither made he move toward the rosary.
"How's this?" said the baron, of a sudden in a crimson temper. "If you do not give me the pearls, I shall take her head; for she surely stole them from a lady, and her life is forfeit."
At that, Thomas forgot his vows of peace and sprang at the baron; but the baron's sword flashed like an adder, and in an instant the brave count lay lifeless on the ground. The countess screamed and tore at the baron's face until he brought up his sword again and pierced her through the heart. As she fell, the rosary parted in his hand, and one of its pearls fell to earth.
The baron turned then to the boy and slashed a third time; but to his great wonder, Bertoldus turned the blow away with his little shield. The baron made to raise the blade again, but he saw something in the boy's eyes that seemed to raise a pitchy smell in his nose and bring the screams of the damned to his ears; and his heart failed him, and he fled.
In time the bodies of the count and countess were found and recognized. Joseph de Chilles tried to sell the pearls to the same merchant who had sold them to Count Thomas; the Emperor learned of this, and bade his ministeriales put the baron to the question. The baron confessed all and was swiftly beheaded for the murders of Count Thomas, the Countess Marthe, and Bertoldus of Veen, although he went to his death protesting his ignorance of the child's fate.
All the Empire was grieved by the death of the pious count and the extinguishment of his illustrious line. Gottheim and its environs reverted to the authority of the Emperor, who in memory of Thomas's martyrdom endowed an abbey in the old Veen manor, assigned it Gottheim as a gift, and had Lucius de Foix, the eminent philosopher and scholiast, installed as the first abbot. The Emperor offered Alfred, the count's old steward, a position at his court in Magdeburg; but the old servant preferred to take up a cowl and serve as cellarer in the vast undercroft of Veen manor against the day that his young master should return.
Twenty years on, the fortunes of the abbey had waxed under Lucius' administration, and with it the fortunes of Gottheim; merchants thronged the village to buy the monastery's metalwork, books, and nostrums, and village had grown into a town that had grown into a city near as great as Paris, Rome, or Prague. But great as the city had grown, still great were the dark woods around it; and the Emperor liked to hunt there better than anywhere else in his realm.
One evening the Emperor chased a stag into the bracken near the base of the mount on which stood the abbey; in the heat of the hunt he abandoned first his party, then his courser, then his dogs as he tore further into the brush. Of a sudden he found himself plunged into a bat-haunted cave of the mount; it was illumined by a fire, and by the fire stood a tall man dressed in sackcloth.
"God preserve me!" said the Emperor. "Surely it is a revenant!"
"It is not the father, your grace, but the son," said Bertoldus de Veen (for it was he). And he presented the Emperor with the lost pearl from his mother's rosary, and told him something of how he had continued on to Jerusalem on foot and then returned to Europe by walking across Africa to Hispania.
The Emperor declared his intention to return the de Veen lands to their rightful count, but Bertoldus declined.
"I could make no proper vassal of yours, having made two earnest vows during my journeys: the first, to remain chaste unto death; and the second, to never raise a sword against another of God's creatures. But these vows would not contravene monastic rule, and so I have returned to serve humbly where my fathers once ruled."
But though the Emperor allowed Bertoldus to join the abbey, he would hear nothing about him serving in any humble capacity, but meant to see him take the dignity of abbot. When Lucius de Foix discovered the young man's sagacity and heard something of the learning that he had acquired during his sojourns in Greece, Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Córdoba, he was only too happy to retire to an advisory role.
And so the son of Count Thomas of Veen became the Abbot Bertoldus of Veen, and with his guidance Gottheim became one of the wonders of Christendom. But though most of the people loved him as much or more than his father, there were those who grumbled at how Gottheim Town attracted brigands, murderers, corrupt merchants, and dissipated nobles as it swelled; and some fewer said that when Bertoldus had come from the Moorish lands, he had brought the devil with him to haunt Gottheim.
For a demon horned like the moon was seen in the streets at night, following the steps of any man, high or low, who carried an uneasy conscience. It bore no blade, but struck the wicked to the earth with single blows from its massy armored fists. Few had seen more than the edge of a cape in alley, or the glint of a leathern horn above a rooftop; but those who had seen more spoke of eyes of Greek Fire, and armor of Greek lamellae and Turkish leather; and this devil was said to wear on its brigandine a piece of silvered iron emblazoned with a savage black bat.
posted by Iridic at 3:48 PM on July 13, 2012 [36 favorites]
The count found himself at the advanced age of fifty-five, and moved by divine inspiration he decided to withdraw from the practice of arms and make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. This virtuous count felt sorrow and contrition for the many deaths he had caused in his youth, and he intended to dress in rags and practice physic along the path to the Holy Land, in the hopes of saving as many lives as he had ended.
He commended the care of his family and lands to his steward, Alfred, then gave a pious valediction to his wife and young son. But mother and child wept piteously that their lord should abandon them; until the count, moved, gave them leave to follow him as far as Venice.
At dawn on the feast of Saint George, the count, his wife, and his son descended from the manor, bare of foot and dressed in sackcloth. But the countess wore a pearl rosary at her hip, which shone against the dark sacking like a constellation; for though the count was humble in his own person, he was proud of his wife's status and could not bare but that she should keep some of her finery about her. Likewise, his son, Bertoldus, had with him his favorite toy, a little buckler that the count had brought back from the Emperor's wars in Valencia. It was of iron inlaid with silver and enameled with the black bat found in that land's heraldry.
While the family traveled through Gottheim and the count's direct demesne, they were greeted with joy by all they met, for the people loved the count for his clemence and the countess for her generosity. But as the sun sank low, they passed into the woods belonging to the most craven of the count's baron, Sir Joseph de Chilles. The baron was hunting a stag when he came upon the pilgrims, whom he failed to recognize in their rags; having had no luck in his pursuit of the beast, he thought to have some sport with the man.
"Hold!" cried the baron. "You trespass on the land I hold in trust from that great knight Thomas de Veen, who has it in gift from the Emperor himself. Thus you sin against every degree of earthly power."
Though the count was wroth with the baron for his arrogance, he had by dire vow surrendered every show of power; thus he replied with meek and quiet voice:
"If I wrong the emperor, it is only in service to He who calls every king his subject; for am I bound by oath to travel as straight as I may to Jerusalam."
The baron jeered at him, and drew his sword, and said: "And yet must we render unto Caesar what is Caesar's; and even unto Caesar's men their due. Thus I levy my proper toll: I will take the purse at your belt."
The count said no word, but surrendered his purse to the baron.
"And as well the cloth from your back."
The count said no word, but surrendered his cloak to the baron.
"I shall have too those beads at your wife's pretty hip."
The count said no word, but neither made he move toward the rosary.
"How's this?" said the baron, of a sudden in a crimson temper. "If you do not give me the pearls, I shall take her head; for she surely stole them from a lady, and her life is forfeit."
At that, Thomas forgot his vows of peace and sprang at the baron; but the baron's sword flashed like an adder, and in an instant the brave count lay lifeless on the ground. The countess screamed and tore at the baron's face until he brought up his sword again and pierced her through the heart. As she fell, the rosary parted in his hand, and one of its pearls fell to earth.
The baron turned then to the boy and slashed a third time; but to his great wonder, Bertoldus turned the blow away with his little shield. The baron made to raise the blade again, but he saw something in the boy's eyes that seemed to raise a pitchy smell in his nose and bring the screams of the damned to his ears; and his heart failed him, and he fled.
In time the bodies of the count and countess were found and recognized. Joseph de Chilles tried to sell the pearls to the same merchant who had sold them to Count Thomas; the Emperor learned of this, and bade his ministeriales put the baron to the question. The baron confessed all and was swiftly beheaded for the murders of Count Thomas, the Countess Marthe, and Bertoldus of Veen, although he went to his death protesting his ignorance of the child's fate.
All the Empire was grieved by the death of the pious count and the extinguishment of his illustrious line. Gottheim and its environs reverted to the authority of the Emperor, who in memory of Thomas's martyrdom endowed an abbey in the old Veen manor, assigned it Gottheim as a gift, and had Lucius de Foix, the eminent philosopher and scholiast, installed as the first abbot. The Emperor offered Alfred, the count's old steward, a position at his court in Magdeburg; but the old servant preferred to take up a cowl and serve as cellarer in the vast undercroft of Veen manor against the day that his young master should return.
Twenty years on, the fortunes of the abbey had waxed under Lucius' administration, and with it the fortunes of Gottheim; merchants thronged the village to buy the monastery's metalwork, books, and nostrums, and village had grown into a town that had grown into a city near as great as Paris, Rome, or Prague. But great as the city had grown, still great were the dark woods around it; and the Emperor liked to hunt there better than anywhere else in his realm.
One evening the Emperor chased a stag into the bracken near the base of the mount on which stood the abbey; in the heat of the hunt he abandoned first his party, then his courser, then his dogs as he tore further into the brush. Of a sudden he found himself plunged into a bat-haunted cave of the mount; it was illumined by a fire, and by the fire stood a tall man dressed in sackcloth.
"God preserve me!" said the Emperor. "Surely it is a revenant!"
"It is not the father, your grace, but the son," said Bertoldus de Veen (for it was he). And he presented the Emperor with the lost pearl from his mother's rosary, and told him something of how he had continued on to Jerusalem on foot and then returned to Europe by walking across Africa to Hispania.
The Emperor declared his intention to return the de Veen lands to their rightful count, but Bertoldus declined.
"I could make no proper vassal of yours, having made two earnest vows during my journeys: the first, to remain chaste unto death; and the second, to never raise a sword against another of God's creatures. But these vows would not contravene monastic rule, and so I have returned to serve humbly where my fathers once ruled."
But though the Emperor allowed Bertoldus to join the abbey, he would hear nothing about him serving in any humble capacity, but meant to see him take the dignity of abbot. When Lucius de Foix discovered the young man's sagacity and heard something of the learning that he had acquired during his sojourns in Greece, Jerusalem, Alexandria, and Córdoba, he was only too happy to retire to an advisory role.
And so the son of Count Thomas of Veen became the Abbot Bertoldus of Veen, and with his guidance Gottheim became one of the wonders of Christendom. But though most of the people loved him as much or more than his father, there were those who grumbled at how Gottheim Town attracted brigands, murderers, corrupt merchants, and dissipated nobles as it swelled; and some fewer said that when Bertoldus had come from the Moorish lands, he had brought the devil with him to haunt Gottheim.
For a demon horned like the moon was seen in the streets at night, following the steps of any man, high or low, who carried an uneasy conscience. It bore no blade, but struck the wicked to the earth with single blows from its massy armored fists. Few had seen more than the edge of a cape in alley, or the glint of a leathern horn above a rooftop; but those who had seen more spoke of eyes of Greek Fire, and armor of Greek lamellae and Turkish leather; and this devil was said to wear on its brigandine a piece of silvered iron emblazoned with a savage black bat.
posted by Iridic at 3:48 PM on July 13, 2012 [36 favorites]
Nobody really show that to Todd McFarlane!!!
posted by Chocolate Pickle at 4:21 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by Chocolate Pickle at 4:21 PM on July 13, 2012
Here's a pile of imaginary money Iridic, go make that a reality
posted by The Whelk at 4:31 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by The Whelk at 4:31 PM on July 13, 2012
Dark Ages Avengers by Francesco Francavilla. And again. I like his take on Iron Man.
posted by Pallas Athena at 6:56 PM on July 13, 2012
posted by Pallas Athena at 6:56 PM on July 13, 2012
TheWhiteSkull: "Well a lot of Fancy Armor was purely ornamental by the end of the Lets Wear Tons Of Metal And Flounce About era.
It's not even all that fancy by some standards."
Florentine Plate, apparently.
Lots of those little knobbly decorations you see on the more ornate plate were also intended to keep an attacker from getting a solid hit on the armor, providing a little deflection so you didn't end up with bent metal stuck into your body.
posted by Samizdata at 5:16 AM on July 14, 2012
It's not even all that fancy by some standards."
Florentine Plate, apparently.
Lots of those little knobbly decorations you see on the more ornate plate were also intended to keep an attacker from getting a solid hit on the armor, providing a little deflection so you didn't end up with bent metal stuck into your body.
posted by Samizdata at 5:16 AM on July 14, 2012
The Whelk: "Mongol Man. Does whatever a Mongol can."
As I used to proudly announce during my SCA days (whilst the Horde were visiting), Mongols do it with horses.
posted by Samizdata at 5:17 AM on July 14, 2012
As I used to proudly announce during my SCA days (whilst the Horde were visiting), Mongols do it with horses.
posted by Samizdata at 5:17 AM on July 14, 2012
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posted by griphus at 10:16 AM on July 13, 2012 [7 favorites]