Baron Haakon (I'm not even going to try and list his titles or accomplishments here) has been a member of the SCA since before most of you were out of waddling clothes. He is the head of The Seventh Cavalry—as much as anyone could be, I suppose—and still manages to be a decent enough guy. Mostly fighting with pole weapons and by having the unique ability to get otherwise crazed, barbaric and downright mentally-challenged individuals to die horrible deaths at his bequest, he has become one the most inspiring forces on the modern SCA field of battle. I have often suggested that he really isn't just a Court Baron, but with the Seventh Cavalry behind him, he's the head of his own landless principality. Off the field, he's always quick with a story—but not quick with a story, if you catch my drift—and is a wonderful presence around the bardic fire. (If the fire starts to get low, just ask him to spit into it.) And, believe it or not, that was a Rastafarian filk you just heard him sing. From his smiley-faced fighting pants to the tip of his softened melon, Haakon is one of the best friends The Vanguard could have.