plate-mail

w4w guide to talking to girls at parties

wow. it sure seems like there are a lot of parties out there. a lot of girls also. “i am weak and unsure of what to do with this information or my life,” i’m sure you’re finding yourself mustering feebly. do not worry! it means you should be meeting girls at parties and that i am here to teach you how to do so!

parties

people throw parties for many reasons, such as turning 1, turning 2, etc. there are also parties thrown for other more important reasons, like hedonism or the devil. unless it’s the type of party that you don’t think a girl who likes girls will be at, then it’s a safe bet that there will be at least a few. if it’s not that type of party then just stay home, re-read Nevada, order some za, and commune with the ancient ones that periodically burst through the astral wound in your bathroom. assuming you do go out, however, you have to be ready for everything a party throws at you.

getting ready

always, always, always wear your second favorite outfit. your first favorite is a) trying too hard and b) best saved for a first date. so you need to be showing off, but just not too much. anyway, this is a party you’re going to go to, so try and have fun! wear easy, semi-comfortable clothing. if you plan on altering your consciousness this is very important. you don’t want to be wearing heels that you stumble on or a ceremonial headdress that curses everyone. consider avoiding make up that actively mutates the wearer into something foul (but rad as hell). also avoid any mobile devices that might dilate the time stream, as you don’t want people accidentally showing up to work two years late the next morning. just focus on looking good, looking confident, and looking gay. the idea is that this will keep boys away while drawing in girls. this idea does not work.

dealing with boys at parties

yikes. these suck! often these are strangers and many of them will try to touch you without consent. outside of wearing a plate mail or carving protective sigils into your yielding human(?) flesh, what is there to be done about these? well, if ignoring them doesn’t work, just remember your ABC’s: Always Be Condescending. does he try to talk about the music? you’re above it. literally planes of existence above it. yes, you’ve heard of that band, you’ve also heard of a thousand bands beyond his pathetic range of hearing. does he invite you to dance? turn him to stone. does he try to give you a drink? dump it on the floor and consume the red solo cup. you’re above them, you’re above all of this. what you’re not above is seeking advice about talking to girls at parties from an alleged witch on the internet. 

the talking to girls part

what do you talk to girls about? well, that’s easy! if you’re a girl you can talk to another girl about anything! long bathroom lines, filing income, the unhealing cut on your neck that seems to keep producing more and more spiders. anything! girls, it turns out, love talking to girls. why? because they’re not boys. but how do you know if she’s one of those kind of girls? no, not a werewolf (see: how to talk to wolfgirls and their kin), a gay. this is literally impossible to tell. is she in flannel? then she could be a hipster or a lumberjane. pierced septum? maybe she’s just into jewelry. a howliing cavity in her a chest that beckons you inward? again, maybe she’s just into jewelry. what were often, in the past, common signs girls gave to each other to telegraph gayness are now often just hip shit that all girls do because, let’s face it, gay girls are fashionable as fuck. anyway, assuming you are talking to a girl, assuming you are getting a little bit of a vibe from her, just shoot her the old “I AM GAYBONES FOR YOU AND WOULD THROW MYSELF INTO A VOLCANO IF IT MEANT YOU WOULD KISS MY NECK IN THE BEYOND” look that we all know how to do. if that doesn’t seal the deal just try gently touching her anywhere from the shoulder to the fingertips and telling her she’s cute while smiling. works on me every time.

hope this helped! don’t drink and drive! use erowid if you’re iffy about the weird pills you’ve been given and the necronomicon if the dead start eating guests! bless!

Hearing The Call to Adventure when you’re over 40.

There’s a seriously delightful conversation in one of the LARP fb groups about adventuring over 40. Many of us aren’t 20 anymore, and it seems silly to have our characters not be our own age (or close to it). But they’re still starting characters (as it’s a new campaign), which implies they chose this path recently.

That thread is mostly joking around, but I kind of love the idea of hearing The Call when you’re not a teenager, and starting your in-game adventuring life later as some kind of mid-life crisis, religious epiphany, empty nest reaction, etc.

Which got me to some ficlets, and here’s the result.

“Well, your mother always wanted to be an adventurer - she was a hell of an archer when we were your age - but we got pregnant, and your grandmother needed some help, so we put that life off for a while. But now that you’re off at university, it seems like a good time to pick up the bow again, and go fight evil." 

“There was just something missing, y'know? I mean, I liked being a toymaker, but one day I realized - I really wanted to put on some plate mail, and go fight demons. So here I am, livin’ the dream." 

— 

“Sometimes, relationships don’t work out. She got the business, I get to start the life of adventure I’ve always wanted. Did you know I minored in alchemy? It’s good to get back into it again.”

“Your Aunt Maribel and I had always talked about doing this, when we were girls, but it just never seemed like the right time. But now that Uncle Haro has passed…Mari just wants to get out there and do it. I can’t let her go alone, can I? Someone has to watch her flank on the line, and remind her to keep her shield up.“

"What can I say? Sometimes you fall in love with a mage. When you do, you grab your hammer and you go where he goes. Someone has to keep cute Dukes from flirting with him. Back off, gentry! He’s all mine.”

“Kevin, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not going to fall in love with some Duke.”

“Whatever. I’m not taking any chances. It took me this long to find you, and I’m not letting you go without me.”

“I’m your Dad. If you’re going to go and fight evil, I’m going with you, ‘cause I support your choices.”

“Er…Mom’s heading off to check out some evil gate she heard about. Someone needs to go with her, ok? I squired for her last time, but I just can’t right now. It’s your turn. Make sure she does her exercises, ok? Her back is going to be horrid if she doesn’t.“

"Fine. I’ll handle the evil gate with Mom. But the next time she heads into the swamps to fight some lizard thing, you’re doing it. I freaking hate swamps.”

“His husband left him for an elf. He’s got some anger issues that he’s working through, ok? Better that he work through it on some bad guys.”

“What was that?”
“Undead again.”
“Oh, for the love of..look. They’re a freaking plague, and it’s getting worse. If we don’t want to keep dealing with this, we’re just going to have to go to the source.”
“But….the carrots…!”
“Hang the damned carrots. I’ll hire that nice boy down the street to take care of our field while we’re gone. Clean yourself up and grab your holy symbol. We’re not putting up with this for one more week.”

“Well, I always wanted to see the world. I got a small inheritance recently, and thought, why the heck not? No time like the present, right?”

“If that Sorcerer thinks he can just waltz in here and take over this town, he’s got another think coming!”
“Doris, calm down. We’ll write to the King, and…”
“I WILL NOT CALM DOWN. Sally, I swear, you drive me nuts sometimes.”
“I’m just saying - there’s diplomatic solutions to this.”
“The hell with diplomatic solutions! I WILL END HIM. ”
“Fiiiiiine. Do it your way. End him with fire.”
“Thank you!” *smooches* “Love you. Back when I’m back. He has NO IDEA who is coming for him.”

“What can I say? Adventuring pays the bills. I have a family to support, and turnip farming doesn’t make money like it used to.”

“Hey Phineas - for guys’ night, I have a thought. Rather than just going down to the pub like we usually do…I found a gate. No idea where it leads. Let’s go check it out. Could be fun, right?”
“A gate?”
“Yeah!”
“This is a terrible idea. I’m in.”

“Um….well, this is awkward. You know that Goddess who spoke to me last spring?”
“Oh yeah! Your whole conversion thing. Nice to see you found faith. It’s been good for you, I think.”
“Well, she has something she wants me to take care of.”
“What, like…a message delivered or something?”
“Noooooooo?”
“Seriously? You’re a florist. What does she want you to do?”
“Well, now when I sing, things blow up. That’s good, right?”
“This can’t end well.”

“We left for THREE WEEKS, and Barbarians razed our village. I swear, do I have to do everything myself? I JUST RE-DID THE ROOF, YOU JERKS.”

“He doesn’t think our family is good enough for him? I’ll show him who is good enough for him! My little girl is going to live in a castle, even if I have to conquer it myself!”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way.”
“We’ll see what he has to say when I walk into Summertide with a demon’s head on a spike! Who’s good enough now, you two-bit merchant?!?”

“Your Aunt recently found out that Throgg the Destroyer is that brat she couldn’t stand at the Academy. She’s not taking it well, so we’re going to be off on a trip for a while…”

“So….funny story. You know that favor I owe the Countess? From like 20 years ago? She finally called it in. She remembered that I’m really good with Ancient Runes, and apparently there’s something she needs checked out.”

“I thought you said this adventuring thing was just a hobby, Brianna. Something we did on the weekends.”
“Well, but…y'know…I really like it. I think I could be good at it. I’m getting better with the spear, you know?”
“I don’t even know you anymore!”
“Can’t you just be supportive?”
“Well, but where does it end? First hobgoblins, now orcs…what’s next?”
“I heard about this cursed tomb…”
“Absolutely not. I draw the line at tombs. NO TOMBS.”

“I told you not to date that vampire. Didn’t I tell you? I told you!”
“Let me live, Sergio.”
“Let me unlive, you mean.”
“Ok, that’s just rude.”

“Oh, sure - one good healing spell, and you think you can conquer the world.”
“I can! I have the knees of a teenager again!”

“Grandpa, you’re embarrassing me.”
“What, I can’t visit my grandson while he’s adventuring?”
“Well, I love having you here, and everyone knows you’re a good healer, but…”
“I’ll be fine. I like it here. I think I’ll stay.”

“C'mon, let’s do it. We’ve always wanted to.”
“But…we don’t know what we’re doing.”
“We do! We’ve each read The Book, what….15 times? I know you basically have it committed to memory.”
“I don’t think 'To Catch a Rogue Lord’ was really meant as an instruction manual.”
“C'mon…how hard can it be? You’ve seen the adventurers who come through here.”
“Excellent point. I’ll get my herbs.”

“Honey? There’s a kid at the door. He says you’re the Chosen One.”
“Arrrrgh. We talked about this! Come back later!”
“He says the stars are aligned?”
“Not doing it! Tell him to go away.”
“Oh, and the seal broke. The seal broke, Stephen. It sounds important.”
“But…”
“I’ll pack you a lunch.”

“Call Sharon. She and her stupid birthmark are coming with me.”
“I thought you said that translation of the prophecy was incorrect? Something about a miss-translation of verb.”
“…well, at least if we fail, I won’t have to listen to Karl talking at Guild Meetings about how he was right.”

Medieval Wargear Masterpost

I’ve seen a few of these sorts of things bouncing around Tumblr - mostly for the benefit of writers, i imagine - but they seem to mostly be made by other writers, or other people with only a passing knowledge of such things. 

Either way, they could be better, and i hope the following is more comprehensive, even if i keep it fairly brief.

This will be divided into two categories - weapons and armour - with four general subcategories in each. It’s difficult to cram centuries of warfare and thousands of weapon/armour variants into eight broad “boxes”, so bear with me.
Note: This list does not contain ranged/missile weapons, shields, etc. I can do a further post about those if this one proves popular.

~~~WEAPONS OVERVIEW~~~

Swords:

  • Double- or single-edged, long, bladed weapons.
  • Can be many lengths, weights, and styles, each with a different fighting style and role.
  • Were very expensive and hard to make throughout most of history; were wielded only by the wealthy. As such, they became status symbols.
  • Generally bad at getting through armour. Better against cloth and flesh.
  • An all-round weapon; usually used as a backup to a specialist weapon more than being a main weapon in its own right.
  • Baby swords are called daggers. These are used differently to swords, and weren’t often battlefield weapons (though they were definitely used).
  • Katanas are awful swords. Just putting that out there.

Axes:

(Note: diagram is of a wood-cutting axe, which is slightly different to a war axe, but general components are the same).

  • Haft of wood with a short hacking blade on one end.
  • As with the sword, can be many lengths and styles, each with a different role.
  • War axe heads/blades (unless wood-axes) are not wedge-shaped! They are very flat to reduce the weight, and are also much sharper.
  • Hits harder and penetrates armour better than a sword, but is much more unwieldy. It is nearly impossible to block or parry with an axe.
  • As such, axes are very aggressive, close-range weapons; the easiest way to not die is to kill the enemy before he kills you.
  • Note: You will find it very hard to cut an axe haft with another weapon. Axes didn’t break very often on the battlefield (the most common breakage was the head coming off).
  • Some axes were dedicated throwing weapons, but these were exceptionally rare.

Bludgeons (Hammers, Maces, etc.):

(Sorry about the lack of labels)

  • Metal or wooden haft with a heavy, blunt metal head on one end.
  • As ever, can be various lengths and styles, each with a different role.
  • The head of the weapon can vary considerably; can be a metal orb, a spiked/studded orb, a flanged metal head, a hammer head, a hammer head with a spike, and so on.
  • Despite their differences, each weapon performs much the same; they are used to deal blunt-force trauma to an enemy.
  • Are excellent against heavily-armoured opponents, who get stunned or incapacitated by such blows. Long spikes can also puncture armour (like a nail through a tin can).
  • Unarmoured opponents are less affected (a broken bone is less severe than a stab wound). Better to use a blade against them.
  • Like axes, these are very unwieldy and short-ranged.

Polearms (Spears, Pikes, Halberds, Billhooks, etc):

  • Most diverse category; there are many kinds of polearm.
  • They were the most common weapons on medieval battlefields (used mostly by poor foot soldiers), because they were cheap and usually made by modifying agricultural tools (of which there were no shortage).
  • Consists of a long pole with a blade on the end.
  • Usually wielded defensively by large bodies of men; they were able to keep the enemy at arm’s length (poor foot soldiers weren’t known for their bravery).
  • Excellent against cavalry, since most spears are longer than lances, and horses will avoid running into a wall of spears (they’re not stupid). Variants with “hooks” are also good, as they could pull men off their horses.
  • Mostly used for stabbing, but some had the ability to hack and chop.
  • Note: It is very, very hard to cut a polearm’s pole in half - even with a big axe. It’s easier to snap them, but it’s still extremely hard to do.
  • If an enemy gets “inside” your weapon, you’re dead (unless you’re quick to pull out a backup weapon).

~~~ARMOUR OVERVIEW~~~

(This will stick to a brief overview of general armour types; an overview of armour components can be found here)

Leather/Padding:

  • Light, relatively flexible, comfortable, no sharp edges.
  • Most common armour, with padded cloth armour often worn under heavier armour (for comfort/cushioning).
  • NOT the same as a leather jacket - that kind of leather is far too soft. Leather armour was made of boiled leather or rawhide, both of which are very tough (like a cross between flattened cardboard and overcooked steak).
  • Cheaper than steel, and easier to work with.
  • Provided minimal protection, and extremely vulnerable to thrusting attacks.

Mail (or Chainmail):

  • Ubiquitous, comfortable, flexible as cloth.
  • Easy to make, but very time-consuming.
  • However, it was exceptionally heavy, and soaked up sunlight (so it was very hot in hot weather).
  • Consists of thousands of interlocking metal rings.
  • Can resist slashing or glancing attacks easily, but strong thrusting attacks would often penetrate.

Scale/Segment Armour (e.g. Lamellar, Brigandine):

  • Transitional armour; somewhere between mail and plate.
  • Consists of small metal plates held together in close sequence.
  • Less flexible than chainmail, and less comfortable. Just as hot and nearly as heavy.
  • Less vulnerable to thrusting attacks; the individual plates are stronger than mail rings.

Plate:

  • Most protective form of armour; all but impervious to slashing attacks, and highly resistant to thrusts. 
  • Also cushioned blows by redistributing impact force over an entire plate.
  • Least comfortable; inflexible, hot, somewhat restricts and slows movement.
  • Slightly lighter than chainmail.
  • Was not (re)invented until the later medieval era, as steelworking techniques weren’t good enough.
  • To make a single piece of metal this big was difficult and expensive. For most of the medieval era (when it was available at all), only the rich could afford it.

Indian (Deccan) khula-khud (helmet), zirah baktar (mail and plate shirt) 17th Century approx. 95 cm. long, the long-sleeved mail shirt with eight frontal plaques embellished with gilt mounts, the back with five vertical rows of small plaques, Persian / Ottoman bazu band (vambrace/arm guard), pair of red leather boots with one Ottoman mail-and-plate kolçak (greaves or shin armor).

3

And then the years were gone, he was back at Winterfell once more, wearing a guilted leather coat in place of mail and plate. His sword was not made of wood, and it was Robb stood facing him, not Iron Emmett. Every morning they had trailed together, since they were big enough to walk; Snow and Stark, spinning and slashing about the wards of Winterfell, shouting and laughing, sometimes crying when they fought, but knights and mighty heroes.

I’m Prince Aemon the Dragonknight” Jon would call out, and Robb would shout back

“Well I’m Florian the Fool.” Or Robb would say, “I’m the Young Dragon,” 

And Jon would reply “I’m Ser Ryem Redwyne.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time,  Robb has answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard - born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

A Storm of Swords

Illustration by Gary Gianni

He had been the finest knight of his age, and some argued that he should have gone to face the dark clad in mail and plate, a sword in his hand. In the end though, his royal father’s wishes prevailed, and Daeron II had a peaceable nature. When Dunk shuffled past Baelor’s bier, the prince wore a black velvet tunic with the three-headed dragon picked out in scarlet thread upon his breast. Around his throat was a heavy gold chain. His sword was sheathed by his side, but he did wear a helm, a thin golden helm with an open visor so men could see his face.

Valarr, the Young Prince, stood vigil at the foot of the bier while his father lay in state. He was a shorter, slimmer, handsomer version of his sire, without the twice-broken nose that had made Baelor seem more human than royal. Valarr’s hair was brown, but a bright streak of silver-gold ran through it. The sight of it reminded Dunk of Aerion, but he knew that was not fair. Egg’s hair was growing back as bright as his brother’s, and Egg was a decent enough lad, for a prince.

When he stopped to offer awkward sympathies, well larded with thanks, Prince Valarr blinked cool blue eyes at him and said, “My father was only nine-and-thirty. He had it in him to be a great king, the greatest since Aegon the Dragon. Why would the gods take him, and leave you?” He shook his head. “Begone with you, Ser Duncan. Begone.”

~A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

anonymous asked:

Not to mention that it really doesn't shield you against blunt weapons

Medieval armor, both plate and mail, was rarely ever worn alone. Rather it was paired with padded armor such as a gambeson or a quilted doublet to protect against such attacks.

Elmwood (Ch 1)

So this went super long! almost 3k words. Which is why I’m adding a break. I’m tagging @promiscuous-jalapeno @kazekunai and @booyakasha516 Thank you guys for the encouragement to write more on this and the feedback!

Elmwood List

(2 years later)

“Saeyoung!” Yoosung spit the coffee he had been drinking out on the ground. His mouth was filled with mud and he tried to scrape it off his tongue. Saeyoung rolled around on the ground, his ruddy tunic picking up dead leaves and twigs.

“Why? What? When did you switch my cup?” Yoosung stuttered, attempting to clear out his mouth and stomp on Saeyoung at the same time. Saeyoung caught his boot as it came down and flipped Yoosung over. Yoosung landed with a loud thump, the breath in his body being knocked out. The bit of mud left in his mouth slid down his throat and he choked on it, his face turning red.

“Why did I ever agree to travel with you?” he spat into the ground, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his tongue and mouth. He scooted over to his waterskin and poured enough in his mouth to rinse it out. Behind him Saeyoung’s laughter began to die down.

“Aw, come on Yoosung, you’re just so easy to pick on. I didn’t mean anything by it. Here, I’ll pour you another cup.” Saeyoung turned to the coffee pot by the fire pit.

“No thanks! I’m not drinking anything you give me. In fact,” he stood up and walked back to the log he had been sitting on, “I’m not putting anything in my mouth that you give me.” He sat down indignantly. “Just wait until you need my help again. See if I feel inclined to heal you next time!”

“Don’t pout! You know I love you my little Yoosungie!” Saeyoung tried to pinch the blonde’s blushing cheeks. Yoosung batted his hands away. It was so much fun teasing the half-elf. He meant what he said too. He did love Yoosung. He’d been alone for so long when they had met, and even though Saeyoung tried to keep his distance, he had grown to enjoy Yoosung’s companionship and friendship. Before he knew it, he realized he would die for the young half-elf. He cherished the friendship but it still did not fill the hole in his heart where his twin should be.

He sighed wistfully and sat on his own log facing Yoosung on the other side of the fire.

“Thinking about Saeran again?” Yoosung asked quietly, Saeran was usually the only reason Saeyoung would ever frown. He was normally happy-go-lucky, even though Yoosung knew it was only to mask his insecurity and sadness. Saeyoung’s half-brother had disappeared when they were 15 and Saeyoung had been looking for him ever since.

Saeyoung nodded, his head down, elbows at his knees, hands clasped. The redhead looked up at Yoosung, he was the only person he had ever trusted enough to tell his complete story to. He supposed they had a mutually shitty past and could commiserate. He blinked his amber eyes and asked, “Do you ever miss your home Yoosung? Your family?”

Yoosung bowed his head and shrugged noncommittedly.

“My mother, that’s all. But I’ll see her again. You’ll find Saeran. I know it. I’ll keep praying to Gala for help.”

“You do that.” Saeyoung snickered. He held no stock in gods, they were too fickle for him. However, he did appreciate the power to heal that Yoosung’s god gave him. Without it, Saeyoung would be dead.

They had had to leave Fennear in a hurry. Saeyoung had been hired to obtain information about an up and coming influential player in politics. He cared little about those people, as they played no role in his own life, so he had taken the job. Unfortunately, the information he obtained had pertained to the man’s daughter, who would have been used, or killed, to achieve a political goal. Saeyoung didn’t have many rules, he bought, sold, and stole information for a living, never giving a second thought as to what it would be used for, however, he would never put a child’s life in jeopardy for a few gold coins. Those who hired him didn’t see it that way and had put a bounty on his head. With Yoosung’s help, they had escaped just in time, before the noose tightened within the city. Now they travelled towards Windward Cross. It would be easy to disappear in a city that large.

 As they sat there silently, each with thoughts of their own past filling their minds, a large explosion sounded to the west of their camp. They both stood up and stared at the roiling black cloud ascending to the sky. Looking at each other they shrugged, grabbed their weapons, and headed out to investigate.

Keep reading

Pelinal Goddamn Whitestrake

The motherfucker on the left is one of the craziest characters to ever appear in a video game.

  • He’s a time-traveller. He shows up in the First Era in plate mail, which is specifically stated as being from the future. He also kills a man while at the same time praising Reman, who is said to have not existed yet.
  • He’s also a cyborg, if not a full robot. It was stated by Michael Kirkbride (the guy who made Morrowind’s story) on Tumblr and Reddit that Pelinal was a robot/cyborg sent back in time by Kyne (a god of storms) in order to ‘fix’ the future. In addition to this, his left hand is said to be made of a “killing light”, which some theorize is a laser.
  • Let me rephrase the first two points; he’s a goddamn Terminator in the Elder Scrolls. The future that Pelinal is trying to fix? It involves the High Elves enslaving all men and taking over Tamriel.
  • It all starts when Pelinal’s husband Huna gets killed by one of the Ayleids, who are pretty much the predecessor to the High Elves. Although the text for this was edited to leave Huna’s gender in the air, Kirkbride confirmed that Pelinal was written to be gay.
  • Huna’s death infuriated Pelinal, who proceeded to lose it so badly that the gods of the world almost left it in disgust.
  • Pelinal proceeded to wage war on the Ayleids, along with his queen, Alessia, and his companion, Morihaus. And they fucking succeeded.  Pelinal is kind of a dick.
  • During this, he felt the judgmental gaze of Akatosh, one of the most (if not THE most) powerful gods in the series. And Pelinal stared right back. 
  • He kills one of the Ayleid kings by himself, Umaril. 
  • Despite being cut into eight pieces, his head managed to have a conversation with Morihaus. He also was present at Alessia’s deathbed, and eventually found salvation from his madness. 
  • It’s also implied that Pelinal is a Shezarrine, which is pretty much a person believed to be an incarnation of Shezarr/Lorkhan, the creator of the world. He killed people who brought this up, however.

TL;DR - Elder Scrolls has a gay divine Terminator who did quite a lot of things.

anonymous asked:

Geez, and all this time I thought the reason chainmail was ineffective because it was ridiculously heavy and hard to move in even moreso than full plate armor used by medieval knights

The idea that medieval armor, both plate and mail was so heavy and clunky that it restricted mobility is also a myth.  In fact the armor and equipment of a modern day US infantryman is heavier than that of a late medieval knight

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=38&v=2FB0goDq38Q

Here is a vid of a reenactor in a replica set of medieval plate armor doing stuff like running races, rock climbing, and doing somersaults.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-bnM5SuQkI

Here is a race between a firefighter, a knight, and a modern infantryman through an obstacle course while wearing full kit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAzI1UvlQqw&t=4s