Smith and James (closed)
Who: Sir James de Molyneux, Leofric
What: Sir James gets some hardware and shares some gossip
Where: Locksley
When: October 5, mid-to-late morning
Sir James didn’t like the priest in Locksley. He knew that was a bad attitude. Of course, he didn’t actively dislike the man, either, which might mitigate things. Sir James just found him to be a nonentity. He tended to simper in conversation and mumble during the Mass, and when Sir James showed up at the Locksley church this morning and mentioned he was there for the Feast of St. Raphael, the priest blinked and gave him a blank look that suggested celebrating the saint’s day hadn’t even occurred to him. Nor did it seem to have occurred to the Locksley villagers-the entire congregation amounted to Sir James and a crone bent double by age. Put together, Sir James had a hard time concentrating on the matter at hand, and his mind kept wandering off to such things as why poor St. Raphael was so neglected while St. Michael got a huge holiday, considering they were both archangels.
He could hardly wait until the Teversal church was built. Sir James had intended to to attend Mass every day when he first returned to England, but that hadn’t happened. It’s one thing to roll out of bed on an unimportant rainy morning and trudge a few feet to the church; riding the hour so it took to get to any of the churches nearest to his village on that same unimportant rainy morning was something else entirely. When he did manage to get to Mass, Sir James tried to find ways to make the ride more productive-to kill a few more birds with the same stone, so to speak. But he had been to Nottingham so many times recently that he couldn’t think of anything he needed out of Locksley today. (Not that is has a lot to offer in the best of times, he thought.) Sir James supposed he should call on Sir Guy, out of politeness, but he didn’t really want to. He needed an excuse to avoid the manor house, at least for now. Thinking back…was it his imagination, or had his horse started limping as they approached town? The creature seemed to be standing well enough now, but Sir James checked his back right hoof just in case. And there he saw a loose shoe. A-ha! Darn it, Sir Guy would just have to wait.
So far, Sir James hadn’t needed the services of a blacksmith during his time back in England, which was just as well, since Teversal didn’t have a smithy any more than it had a church. Reasoning that the building with the blackest smoke coming out of it was the one out of all the non-descript buildings he needed, Sir James led his palfrey to the back. He was right. He heard the clanging before he saw the smith, though by the time he got to the forge the man’s back was turned to him as he adjusted the fire.
“Excuse me!” Sir James called out. “I hope you’re not too busy to do a little simple shoeing!”
What: Sir James gets some hardware and shares some gossip
Where: Locksley
When: October 5, mid-to-late morning
Sir James didn’t like the priest in Locksley. He knew that was a bad attitude. Of course, he didn’t actively dislike the man, either, which might mitigate things. Sir James just found him to be a nonentity. He tended to simper in conversation and mumble during the Mass, and when Sir James showed up at the Locksley church this morning and mentioned he was there for the Feast of St. Raphael, the priest blinked and gave him a blank look that suggested celebrating the saint’s day hadn’t even occurred to him. Nor did it seem to have occurred to the Locksley villagers-the entire congregation amounted to Sir James and a crone bent double by age. Put together, Sir James had a hard time concentrating on the matter at hand, and his mind kept wandering off to such things as why poor St. Raphael was so neglected while St. Michael got a huge holiday, considering they were both archangels.
He could hardly wait until the Teversal church was built. Sir James had intended to to attend Mass every day when he first returned to England, but that hadn’t happened. It’s one thing to roll out of bed on an unimportant rainy morning and trudge a few feet to the church; riding the hour so it took to get to any of the churches nearest to his village on that same unimportant rainy morning was something else entirely. When he did manage to get to Mass, Sir James tried to find ways to make the ride more productive-to kill a few more birds with the same stone, so to speak. But he had been to Nottingham so many times recently that he couldn’t think of anything he needed out of Locksley today. (Not that is has a lot to offer in the best of times, he thought.) Sir James supposed he should call on Sir Guy, out of politeness, but he didn’t really want to. He needed an excuse to avoid the manor house, at least for now. Thinking back…was it his imagination, or had his horse started limping as they approached town? The creature seemed to be standing well enough now, but Sir James checked his back right hoof just in case. And there he saw a loose shoe. A-ha! Darn it, Sir Guy would just have to wait.
So far, Sir James hadn’t needed the services of a blacksmith during his time back in England, which was just as well, since Teversal didn’t have a smithy any more than it had a church. Reasoning that the building with the blackest smoke coming out of it was the one out of all the non-descript buildings he needed, Sir James led his palfrey to the back. He was right. He heard the clanging before he saw the smith, though by the time he got to the forge the man’s back was turned to him as he adjusted the fire.
“Excuse me!” Sir James called out. “I hope you’re not too busy to do a little simple shoeing!”