Once upon a time, across many trembling, tempestuous oceans, the magical southern land of Lochac was ruled by a king and queen inspired by their great and terrible ancestor, Genghis Khan.
[Note from editor: Yes, you are reading WAtoday, not a fairy story. Bear with him – this is leading somewhere.]
Many thousands of leagues to the west, on the other side of the bone-bleached, enchanted desert of awful desolation lay the green and fertile happy lands of the golden Barony of Aneala [An-yalah].
There, people lived a life of plenty under a constantly shining sun. They never wanted for anything, with rich and bountiful harvests and tables that groaned with pies and roasts and barrels of mead, wine and beer that never ran dry.
Everyone looked forward to regular merry feasting in good company and good cheer under the kindly reign of the much-loved Baron Dameon Greybeard and Baroness Leonie de Grey.
And they all lived happily . . . hold on . . . just hold on. That's not the end. In fact, we're just at the beginning of this story.
Welcome to an alternate reality that's being lived out in Perth right now. A place where the 13th to 17th centuries have been brought out of the history books and back into life by a committed group of historical re-enactors.
And it's time to meet WA's ruling "royal family": Baron Dameon Greybeard and the Baroness Leonie de Grey.
The Baron and Baroness overlook proceedings.
"We're not really royal – the king and queen are actually over in Sydney," the Baron says.
Baron Dameon Greybeard – known more humbly in the 21st century as Paul Davies - said their WA group of about 100 members were part of a global movement that had been time-shifting since the mid-1960s.
"We act out the best parts of the middle ages without the bubonic plague or smallpox," said Mr Davies, a retired policeman and court sheriff.
His wife Annette Wilson, a botanist by profession, is the Baroness de Grey.
They are part of the Society for Creative Anachronism that stemmed from Berkeley University in the US in the 1960s and now boasts some 60,000 members throughout the world. It is an international non-profit, educational organisation dedicated to the research and recreation of pre-17th century European History.
Aneala (Perth) and Lochac (Australia, New Zealand and a bit of Antarctica) are part of a world map of fictional kingdoms that are part of the global SCA.
Aneala (Perth) was first recognised as a "shire" in 1983 and became a "barony" four years later. The name "Aneala" is believed to derive from a Celtic word for "swan" and the barony's heraldic crest features a golden half sun against a blue background, topped by two black swans separated by a laurel wreath.
Most barony group events are built around a tournament that is highlighted by bouts of combat. The combat arts revolve around two streams: armoured fighting and the more nimble rapier style.
"Quite frankly, there are blokes who just want to fight – there are some girls who want to fight," Mr Davies, a highly experienced combat instructor said.
"The martial arts of the east are well documented by comparison, but there is a rich tradition in the west that is documented as far back as the 13th century."
Not everybody wants to fight and there are plenty of opportunities to explore the arts, sciences and crafts of the middle ages including blacksmithing, weaving, calligraphy, herbalism and more
Mr Davies and Ms Wilson met at an SCA event in Canberra in 1993, though both had been in the club since the 1980s. They have maintained the same alternate personas over that time.
"The SCA is a good social network – it's a great way to meet new people who share an interest in history," Ms Wilson said.
"We could probably travel accommodation-free throughout the US, travelling from group to group. It's a close knit community that's exceptionally tolerant. The SCA even has a gay Blue Feather Clan.
"Generally, the SCA members are a better read group of people – or they certainly enjoy reading.".
Mr Davies and Ms Wilson were elected as the Baron and Baroness of Aneala last September and could expect to enjoy a reign of three-five years – or more.
"It's really at the discretion of the group. They will keep you on until they get bored with you," Ms Wilson said.
"It sounds glamorous being the baron and baroness, but we really just help make things happen and keep events rolling along. Sometimes, I have to take off my cornet [crown] to sweep up."
Mr Davies said what set the SCA group apart was not only a passion for history, but its participatory focus.
"To learn about the clothing of the period, you research it, then sew it and wear it yourself," she said.
"To learn about combat, you put on armour [which you may have fabricated yourself] and learn how to defeat your opponent. To learn brewing, you make [and sample] your own wines, meads and beers."
"It's a bit like being historical myth busters. If you get the bug, you're hooked.
"A lot of the armour, weapons and tournament tents are actually made in India. A full set of armour could set you back thousands of dollars.
" You don't need to start with that. We could probably get someone into their first combat for a few hundred dollars."
The Perth SCA group attracts members from many backgrounds and each creates a persona that must be distinct from somebody who has actually lived.
"Yes, we do have plenty of people from the IT industry, but we also have lawyers, paramedics, white collar workers, shop assistants and more," he said.
Ms Wilson's persona, Leonie de Grey, is based on an actual historical family, the Walsinghams of Norfolk. But there was never a female member with the name she has adopted.
"I have my persona , but as far as my dress is concerned, it doesn't matter whether I'm in the 15th or 16th century, I'm still Leonie de Grey from Walsingham," Ms Wilson said.
"We're also not strict about maintaining character at an event. You can drop in and out of character as you like. It's not unusual to see a Viking checking his mobile phone at the feasting table."
A fight to the death...well, fortunately not quite
The scene is a wet and windy riverbank in Cannington on a rainy Sunday afternoon in June.
The bravest knights of the barony have gathered to win the Baroness's approval in a tournament where the men-at-arms are auctioned to the highest bidding patrons. They will then fight for the honour of their new patrons.
A roped-off area, highlighted by bunting and fluttering pennant is the combat stage. It is surrounded on three sides by marquees. On this wet day, they have defaulted to the modern-framed ones with weatherproof roofs.
A herald and a marshal announce and referee the bouts between two dismounted knights.
There are three rounds to decide the winner with each round decided by a telling blow to the body or leg.
The knights of Aneal, like Adam Blower, don't hold back.
One of the fighters, Adam Blower, 38, is a procurement manager and father of two from Aubin Grove in his 'real" life.
He joined the SCA about nine years ago after some combat experience in other groups and his persona is "The Honourable Lord Galen Wolfric", whose backstory details a career as a journeyman squire to knights all over Europe.
"I grew up in an environment of stories that gloried in the romance of knights in armour," he said.
"I really enjoy the combat. You're constantly researching, always learning. You'll never know it all and that's what's fascinating."
The knights don't hold back in their combat and there is a thump like two vehicles colliding as bodies, wrapped rattan swords and shields clash.
Knights have different levels of armour, depending on what they can afford, but a compulsory level of protection for their heads, necks and vital organs like the kidneys.
"It's full-on, but in all the years we've been running, most of the injuries have been restricted to bruising," Mr Davies said.
"We take safety very seriously."
Nearby, Olywyn of Shelford aka Wendy Black of Parmelia is absorbed in the medieval art of "inkling". She works with a loom that produces weaves decorative cotton trim for bag handles, belts, or instrument straps.
"In the day, they would probably have used silk," she said.
Carpentry has proven a handy skill for the Ragnar of Ravenshold.
Mrs Black moved into inkling after years in embroidery. Her husband Phil casts a stern figure as the Viking "Ragnar of Ravenshold" - his outfit a combination of self-made and purchased pieces - but he has turned his real life skills as a carpenter into producing a range of authentic period pieces, including his wife's loom, wooden plates, spoons, carry boxes and more.
"I get some strange looks when I pop into the shops on the way to an event," Mr Black, who has a long-time fascinatoin with Viking culture, said.
Once the armoured combatants have finished their bouts and the rapier duellists have danced and darted their way to winning points, Aneala is packed up and driven off in decidedly modern horseless carraiages.
Unlike in older times, all of the knights live to fight another day.
