Heavy Fighting
Heavy fighters wear protective armor and wield rattan weapons, all designed to emulate historical armor and weapons as closely as possible.

Helms are required to be constricted of heavy steel, usually 12 or 16 gauge, with a grill, or plate to protect the face. A chin strap attached to the helm allows high powered shots to the face to be received without any worry of actual facial injuries. The neck is protected by the "gorget," a piece of armor (either metal or leather) that prevent neck or throat shots from landing with any force capable of injuring a person. Knees and elbows are covered by plate metal, heavy plastic, or extremely well-padded heavy leather. Shots to these joints, while potentially crippling to an unarmored person, are taken without even so much as a bruise more often than not. Forearms are covered as well, and are likewise capable of taking far more punishment without lasting injury than an unarmored person. The floating ribs, kidneys and lower abdominal region in general are protected by a kidney belt at the absolute minimum, which allows even full power shots to be received with only a slight jarring.

The armor conventions allow combatants to fight by providing a dead minimum of protection and allowing them to customize their armor from there. Some fighters arrive on the field in full metal plate armor, with only the whites of their eyes visible through a heavy grill. Others deliberately choose to wear the absolute minimum that the armor and fighting conventions allow, choosing to exploit the speed and increased movement that it gives them.

Weapons are made of rattan, a bamboo like plant that allows use in the creation of combat safe swords, spears, axes and so on. Every weapon in the medieval arsenal from the earliest sword to the grandest fighting axe has been recreated for combat, and many have been employed with surprising successes stemming from their unique abilities.

Some times fights are in single combat, such as tournaments, and other times in large groups, such as melees or wars. In tournaments, a single person fights against a single person. It is the ultimate test of personal abilities, and each match, whether won or lost, will serve as a valuable lesson for both people. The wars are the "Grand Melees", where forces take the field and face each other in a massive coordinated team-work oriented fight. In wars, the traditions of combat epitomized by units like the Roman army are the rule. Teamwork, coordination and communication allow a handful of fair tournament fighters to become one unit, and to excel on the battle field.

The conventions of combat and weapons-craft of the SCA allows the combatant, new or veteran, to choose almost any hand weapon in history and study it, its uses, its abilities, and then create it with his own two hands and use it in a fashion like that of centuries ago. The rules of combat allow for normally fatal mistakes to be little more than another practice match, and for each lesson learned to be used again on the field of combat.

On Victory
by Lord Ivo Blackhawk
There is a victory that all fighters strive for in the SCA that reaches past simply defeating your opponent. It is not a victory of triumph or conquest, but rather a victory of joy and comradery. It is the ability to meet your opponent on a field of battle, to face him in single combat with an audience of friends and family watching, and to walk off the field, winner or loser, with your head high and a smile on your face. And to crown the occasion, the man who you fought will walk up to you, take your hand, and shake it firmly, and with sincerity in his voice thank you for fighting him.

While there is nothing quite like the thrill of winning a fight in armor, there is an almost equal thrill when you have lost the fight, but your opponent walks up to you and tells you that he enjoyed himself and would look forward to seeing you on the field again.

There have been fights that I have lost, but after the loss, I was welcomed into camps to share food and conversation. I lost fights only to be invited to a tavern to share a drink with the man who was only moment ago trying to defeat me. We get in armor and train for hours a day some times, and for others it is only a few weekends a month, but we still work hard and practice hard. And when we do it right, we go out on the field and face a man who could be our best friend, our chief rival, or a total stranger. We clash swords and clang helms with all the ferocity of a pair of starving dogs fighting over the last scraps of food.

Yet when it is all over, and the fanfare of the event has passed, and the audience has gone off to eat and dance and sing and talk the night away, when you've fought your heart out and lost every fight, more often than not someone will walk up to you, say that you fought well, and invite you to sup with their camp, to dine with their friends and family. And maybe some day when you are friends of many years, they will invite you to take the field with them and fight.

And as you fight, you will fight your best, and your hardest, and whether or not you win or lose, you will walk away from the fight with your friends each clad in clanking and dented armor. And you will walk away with the greatest victory.