SLIPPERY ROCK, PA -- There are no shortage of labels for the people gathered around a flame-lit gladiator pit here at Cooper's Lake Campground.
They call themselves warriors, fairies, goblins and elves. They even call themselves nerds and geeks, and others do too. They pay the latter labels no mind. Sticks and stones, after all.
And, remember, they have names for the rest of us. They call us the mundanes, the normies or the muggles; monikers for the inhabitants of the real world, living their real, really boring lives. Name calling may not hurt us, either. But a vicious swing of one of these warrior's foam swords just might.
This scenic Pennsylvania campground is the site of Dagorhir Battle Game's 33rd annual Ragnarok; a week-long, Tolkien-esque, medieval-themed, live-action-role-playing event that feels like a music festival birthed a renaissance fair.
The 1,500 or so participants spend the week fighting in various battle scenarios, swapping tips on how to build the best chainmail, embarking on quests at the behest of a "Fairy King," and, at the end of a long day, sipping swill in period garb at a bar erected in the woods known as the Tilted Tavern.
In an age where the pressures of the "mundane world" find ways to encroach deeper into our lives, this is where being whoever, or whatever, you want to be is a mantra.
“On a 10 scale for level of escape, this is an 11," said Dan Hinrichs, a former Marine (who goes by the character name "Pika"). "I don’t have worry about bills, I don’t have to worry about ‘did I make my bed this morning,’ I don’t have to worry if I’m going to be late for work. I wake up. I fight. I fish. I drink. I just take all the real world problems and leave them behind.”
Dagorhir, which means "battle lords" in J.R.R. Tolkien's Elvish language, began in 1977 when a group of friends decided to bring their love for medieval culture, Tolkien and role-playing games like Dungeons and Dragons, to life. Today, about 80 chapters host battles across the country and a national organization passes down rules and hosts flagship events like Ragnarok.
Organizers describe Dagorhir alternately as a sport, a game, a martial art and simply a lifestyle. Many participants make their own weapons and attire, known as "garb," though a cottage industry of vendors caters to the needs of the busy or less-crafty participant.
Not everything here is about fighting. The promise of transporting to a different time and place attracts cosplayers like Caroline Lama ("Coralinx Cosplay") while the whimsy of the whole affair leaves room for attendees like Kyle Quinones ("Priest") to don a bear outfit for no reason in particular. As a sideshow to an afternoon "dungeon crawl," which is like an escape room with goblins, Shawn Smith ("Kael") dressed as a "monster cat," and attempted to recruit appropriately-skeptical campers into the "Church of Debauchery."
But if all this world's a stage, the battlefield is where the most dramatic scenes take place.
In some campaigns, armies storm across a sweeping field toward hay bales at the center, where a melee ensues as they whack one another with foam swords and lean into their enemies with hulking shields. Other games require a more tactical approach, like the "woods battle," where warriors rustle through the trees to try to sneak up on their opponents.
David Vierling ("Morgan the Graymael") the president of Dagorhir Battle Games Inc., said the battles give participants a way to safely live out scenarios they dreamed about while reading books or watching films.
“You can be legendary while still being alive,” he said.
This type of make-believe warfare, known as live action role-playing, or LARPing, is often mocked as the height of nerddom. Many here see their portrayals in popular culture as dismissive. They point to a 2008 comedy starring Paul Rudd titled "Role Models" and an ESPN commercial advertising fantasy football that billed LARPing "Bad Fantasy" as examples.
Indeed, everyone here agrees they are nerds. But what's lost in that label is the athleticism involved in the games and the intensity of their gatherings. These are not your grandfather's nerds.
The physicality and ferocity of the Dagorhir warriors in on fully display at Thunderdome: a raucous, Mad Max-inspired evening of fire, booze and fighting. Organizers stack picnic tables a top picnic tables to create bleacher seating around a wooden ring lit by flames. Fighters charge into the Thunderdome in various states of dress, or undress, to battle one another and the guards who man the event.
All who enter suffer dramatic deaths, flopping their bodies to the ground only to be dragged out of the ring by the helmeted guards.
The Wednesday night party goes so long, and so hard, that Thursday is known as "sloth day" at the camp, where nary an elf is in sight by 9 a.m. at the breakfast burrito stand on merchant's row.
All's fair in the Thunderdome, be it war, or love.
As the sun set over a blood- and mead-thirsty crowd, Sally Joe ("Sparkle Jones") and Jane Richelmann ("Raven McBlackbird") locked eyes, alone in a sea of debauchery, and shared an intimate kiss. To Ms. Joe, the world of Dagorhir is a judgement-free escape from a judgement-filled world.
"I feel like a lot of people find their identity in places like this," she said. "I think that's really empowering."
It's not just themselves they find. It's others too.
In 2014, Darcy Mitchell ("Twitch") was sitting on top of a picnic table when Mark Fleming ("Notagain") approached her.
"You look like you have a lot on your mind," he told her.
Ms. Mitchell found Mr. Fleming to be "a cute dragon." Though the couple legally married in the mundane world, they made it Dagorhir official during a handfasting ceremony in front of the other members of their camp "Blood Horde" this year.
Elizabeth Zadkin ("Thirrin") went many rounds inside the Thunderdome.
Helen McNelly ("*Sparkles La Fae*") says “Anybody who is here dressing up in funny clothes is a nerd, that’s just it.”
Mikayla Quinn ("Poxxie") at the Tilted Tavern, the Ragnarok equivalent of a neighborhood bar.
The week here is structured so that everyone -- from the "stick jocks" who live to fight to the "noncombat" participants who volunteer, craft or just relax -- can choose their own adventure.
That freedom makes the world of Dagorhir the perfect fit for Matt Ellison ("Teef Erikson"), who appeared more aesthetically prepared for guerrilla warfare than just about anyone.
As he strode into a woods battle in the foothills of the campground, Mr. Ellison described how being a part of straight edge subculture -- meaning he does not use alcohol or tobacco -- taught him to be himself, ignoring societal pressures.
The foam sword he slung over his shoulder rested above a tattoo that reads "True Till Death." While that phrase is a fixture in the straight edge world, Mr. Ellison finds it has cross-over meaning to his life in Dagorhir.
"Even if things might be wrong or looked down upon, if I think it's right, I'm doing it anyway," he said.
