And now to tell a tale of old. Of a starting. Long ago the wulfs ran free, wild as any animal ever was. There was one female that’s coat was grey as mist and eyes of the lake that is blue. Her name was Starclaws a loner and explorer She once heard of a great being hidden deep within the mountain rocks above her forest glen. For months she traveled those rocks. Finding food and shelter plenty. Seasons came and went. In the fall of he night a might black wulf appeared. Strange and different they growled and snapped at each other not knowing each other. Slowly she felt a stirring and knew this was her mate of life. Once the actions of wulf ways was done they traveled as one. One full moon a shadow passed over head and a strange scent filled the air. Both felt a tingle travel through their hair. Neither knew what it was nor what to make of it. she struck out to follow him close behind.

Only to be caught in a strange quick spiny snow. Then fate cruelly dealt its hand a rock shifted under her mates feet. And started him to lose footing. In the wind and snow he fell to the rocks below. The pain she felt was overshadowed by the instinct of survival for the storm worsened tenfold within those few seconds. Crashing through the snow where pockets between the rocks lay hidden she searched for shelter. Sudden the sweet scent seconds before the storm returned. Quickly she followed it. she felt warmth and calmness now, only she didn’t know understand why.

A dark cave floated quickly in her sight as the wind tore at Her move around there. Into the cavern she ran. Exhausted and cold she collapsed upon the floor and rests. Only then did she start to remorse for the one she had lost. And then realized no name he had given. She knew many with no name. she was one as well, but that would change for she was with pup and new mother’s name would be needed. Sleep came quickly to her. Energy spent, Emotions overflowing. The sweet embrace of darkness in the form of sleep came and she welcomed it to silence her heart and take her somewhere else.

When she woke. It was as if time had passed slowly. A sweet smell of pine and something else drifted in from the back of the cavern. And slowly she heard not with her ears but with her mind the worlds of “Little sister are you awake?” this startled her and she growled. But again came words she understood “Little one, fear not you are in my home and being so is well protected”

This calmed her little but the next moment a soothing softness was felt in her mind. A softness which she had only to fall warmly into and sleep once more took her. Dreams of the forest, hunting and her mate drifted in and out as the tide.

Next when she woke a fresh killed dear laid next to her. Steam still drifted from the corpse in the still cold spring air. A rumble/scraping she heard & felt as well in the rocks put her on her guard once more. And again words came to her mind “Little sister you must eat to be well. Your pups to be depend on it.”

Startled she looked into the shadows to make out a large shape she had never seen before. Snapping and defensive she rose to defend or attack which ever it took.

But words again came this time soothing and warm “Sister you need not fear me. For I wish to help. See I even brought you food”. She only slightly relaxed but cautiously took to the meal ever watching and waiting for deception. The dear tasted the best she ever could recall. And then sleepy and full she slept once more even as much as she fought to be on guard sleep on the battle that time.

Sun shining in the entrance. Upon a traipsing breeze the scent of the being awoke her. To find the rest of the deer had been removed and four rabbits now rested in its place. Finding her self hungry she ate. Seeing a pool of snow water she drank. Slowly she stretched and not sensing anything she followed the scent into the mountain deeper than any cave she had gone into before. The sweet pine and other smells grew stronger. Turning a corner a lighted cavern could be seen. In the way of wulfs she crept closer to see inside.

She yelped silently at what she saw. One of the old ones. Black as the night. Silvery grey marked his edges and details. Touches of reddish back tipped the profile she saw. He seemed to be asleep. But the words in her head told otherwise.

“I know your smell Little one. Please sister come out and learned to talk. Come and we will make a deal. You will want more to eat soon. and you

should not hunting in your state. I will do so for you”

These words struck her soul and she stepped out from where she hid.

A wulf grey as mist eyes as the deepest lake blue she stood majestic and proud. Daring him to move or do something. Instead he opened his eyes.

And spoke “Little sister, my name is Imperious and I am old. But I can still hunt and fight. I will raise yours as my own and teach them well. I shall protect you as long as you are with me. And in old age will give you release when you ask.” This pleased her and she barked. To that he shook his head and showed her in her mind how to talk to him. and then taught her to howl. Weeks of teaching went by and the pups came. The first mothers of the tribes. One black as night called Soulstealer. One grey as her mother calked Mistwalker. One white as the snow which took their father called Winterwind. And one red called Wildfire. These are the four mothers of the Wulf Clans. These each went different ways. The Black to the forests to live and hunt. Grey to the mountains to search and explore. White to the fields of snow to look for those lost. And Red to the plains and flat lands to gather useful ideas and ways of others.

As they grew the dragon and their mother taught them all the wulf ways and how to speak with others and howl. And teach that their place was to guard the lairs of dragons using their talents to warn of harm and such. Roving in packs spreading news and information. Alone and yet not alone. No longer animals but beings that understood.

In the years to pass the “grand” mother died and the dragon placed her into the Stars for all to see but in a place a few to go. So she can watch and also hide. To this day she still does so.

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Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries had its humble beginnings as an idea of a few artisans and craftsmen who enjoy performing with live steel fighting. As well as a patchwork quilt tent canvas. Most had prior military experience hence the name.


Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries.


Vendertainers that brought many things to a show and are know for helping out where ever they can.

As well as being a place where the older hand made items could be found made by them and enjoyed by all.

We expanded over the years to become well known at what we do. Now we represent over 100 artisans and craftsman that are well known in their venues and some just starting out. Some of their works have been premiered in TV, stage and movies on a regular basis.

Specializing in Medieval, Goth , Stage Film, BDFSM and Practitioner.

Patchwork Merchant Mercenaries a Dept of, Ask For IT was started by artists and former military veterans, and sword fighters, representing over 100 artisans, one who made his living traveling from fair to festival vending medieval wares. The majority of his customers are re-enactors, SCAdians and the like, looking to build their kit with period clothing, feast gear, adornments, etc.

Likewise, it is typical for these history-lovers to peruse the tent (aka mobile store front) and, upon finding something that pleases the eye, ask "Is this period?"

A deceitful query!! This is not a yes or no question. One must have a damn good understanding of European history (at least) from the fall of Rome to the mid-1600's to properly answer. Taking into account, also, the culture in which the querent is dressed is vitally important. You see, though it may be well within medieval period, it would be strange to see a Viking wearing a Caftan...or is it?

After a festival's time of answering weighty questions such as these, I'd sleep like a log! Only a mad man could possibly remember the place and time for each piece of kitchen ware, weaponry, cloth, and chain within a span of 1,000 years!! Surely there must be an easier way, a place where he could post all this knowledge...

Traveling Within The World is meant to be such a place. A place for all of these artists to keep in touch and directly interact with their fellow geeks and re-enactment hobbyists, their clientele.

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