Lochac’s founder, Mistress Rowan Peregrine, told an interesting lie: she saw how the SCA worked in the greater Known World and she told the brand new group called Lochac about only the good stuff. The result was that she inspired greatness. This is about that. I plan to sing it at the Boar’s Head Theatre on Monday at Festival. It’s to the tune of The Boar’s Head Carol. The Latin is courtesy of Brían Rocket, and means roughly “she really is a very clever woman”.
The Great Lie in days of old
Is the one that Mistress Rowan told
Of all the glories, East and West,
And not a trace of tackiness.
Thus emulate we the best
Prae clarissima femina est.
When young Lochac had no name
Rowan to the central kingdoms came
And praised she then the heights of art
Inspiring each Lochacian heart.
But nothing said this Lady fair
Of less impressive works found there:
Of bath-towel tabards, beer-can spurs,
Bikinies made of bunny-fur.
We knew not the least and worst
So strove for greatest glory first.
Our standards lifted ever high.
We learned the truth from Rowan’s lie.