Order of the Cardinal, an Ohio State student organization, role-plays medieval combat in Friendship Park. Credit: Zoey Davis | Lantern Reporter
It is hot, but not quite insufferable at Friendship Park in Gahanna, where warriors have gathered in a modest field beside the pavilion.
The attendees of an unaffiliated birthday party still linger. The sounds of children playing on the other side of the park are audible.
Some have brought shields and swords, others are armed with spears and a few more wield bludgeons akin to clubs.
Some wear armor, and one is fully decorated with leather and chain mail. His shoulder guard bears the image of the Grim Reaper.
And with a cry of “lay on!” the battle commences.
The only catch is, these are not real weapons, and this is not a real battle. This is belegarth, a combat game practiced by Ohio State’s Order of the Cardinal.
The Order is a student group committed to the art of non-injurious medieval combat. It is distinct from other sports, such as fencing and other historical European martial arts (or HEMA), in that foam weapons are used in place of actual ones.
Belegarth is a game promoted by the Belegarth Medieval Combat Society, but the fighting style dates back as far as 1979, according to their website.
The website states that Belegarth is a form of live-action role-playing, also referred to as LARP or “larping.” It’s a style of role-playing game wherein players physically embody their characters and act within the creative world.
The game emphasizes imagination over strict martial discipline. Warriors may dress how they wish with tunics or armor they buy or make themselves, and many pick “fight names” by which they are referred to at events.
Unlike other LARP systems, however, belegarth revolves almost entirely around physical combat, according to Declan Chandler-Holtz, the club’s president.
“You’re pretending to be dead when you get hit with a sword,” Chandler-Holtz said. “I mean, that’s also fencing. It depends on your level of buy-in on the LARP aspect. We don’t have any magic spells or anything like other systems do, which makes it a lot more approachable, I find.”
Chandler-Holtz, a fourth-year in linguistics, said he stumbled upon the club during his freshman year. He said he had fenced in middle and high school and was searching for something to keep himself active.
“I went to the Involvement Fair looking for stuff to do, and I saw people hitting each other with swords,” Chandler-Holtz said. “I thought, ‘That looks pretty cool. That seems like a lot of fun.’”
He said he began attending practice almost every week since that day, and took up the fight name “Thorn.”
“I ended up getting roped in to run for club secretary my sophomore year and then ran for president,” Chandler-Holtz said. “[I] was president my junior year and now my senior year.”
The year before Chandler-Holtz joined, he said the Order had around eight consistent members. Today, it fields more than double that amount of consistent members, or bannermen, in addition to six leader members and more occasional participants.
“It’s all just genuinely nice people fighting with swords,” he said. “You can do a whole lot of stuff with it that’s not just the fighting aspect.”
Outside of practices, the club attends “day battles” — belegarth games with various other warriors around Columbus. Their battle today brought them to Gahanna.
In Friendship Park, the players are tired after their first skirmish. They had played an activity dubbed “circle bridge” — a team-based battle on either side of a donut-shaped arena.
The sounds of foam clashing filled the field, along with cries of “arm,” “leg” and “dead.”
Belegarth requires its players to call which parts of their body have been hit. Upon a successful strike, the hit limb is “dead” and no longer usable, according to the BMCS’ official rulebook. Two hits to the limbs or a blow to the torso means death.
In the fervor, one player grunts and cries, “face!” A blow to the face or neck is illegal and meant to be avoided. During Order practices, it is grounds for punitive pushups.
But now, the players are talking amongst themselves in the shade and making jokes.
Belegarth appears just as taxing a sport as any other, and it is partly for this reason an unorthodox path to fitness for some members.
“I didn’t think I really liked any sort of sports or anything,” one player, who identified themselves only as Guido, a third-year in social work who fights under the alias “Bagel,” said. “But this made me really love being physically active, and [it has] also made me happier that way and made me appreciate having a healthy body more.”
Despite the club’s expansion, the Order remains a strong community for members, much in the same vein as the wider belegarth community.
Terra Miller, a third-year in psychology, joined her freshman year, and has since become seasoned in the art of belegarth.
“It’s a group of people who are very accepting, and they’re always happy to help you learn new things or spar with you, if you want,” Miller, who fights under the name “Cookie,” said.
The game is more involved than just the combat itself, as players can design their own outfits, make their own armor and weapons, and create a unique identity for their characters, if they feel so inclined. The variety of foam weapons and fighting styles leaves room for players to improve, as the game has become something of a sport in itself.
“It’s a skill that I like practicing,” Miller said. “It’s something that I can pursue excellence in, and it’s not connected to grades or anything. Teaching is also very fun once you get good enough. You get and you give back.”
