"Don't let them put us in a position of breaking Hospitality."
"Hey. I'm just sitting here eating ham."
"You did all this with your loins."
Sir Padern here
Stick with what you know; that's what I say. Getting the peasants to do your bidding? Go to Idar. Intimidating Saxons? Brandegoris is your man. The intricate ways of the city? Avaris knows what to do. How to best torch a village of recalcitrant serfs? Ask Gwalchmai. And relations with the fairer sex? Gwair has all the facts.
So what was I thinking when, after our Somerset campaign with King Nanteliod went bust, of wooing a comely lady in the court at London? I'm an old man; I should have known something wasn't right when I won the arm-wrestling contest against Gwair. He's ten years younger than me! But blinded by Lust I fooled myself into thinking my own brawn was superior, and so went off with a most-willing lady of high looks and some repute.
The next thing I know I am defending myself with my sword, half-clothed and unarmored. I could see, or thought I could, Sir Brandegoris in the hall wailing away at the strange and strangely upset men besetting me. But then one of the dastards ran me through and I sank to the floor bleeding profusely.
The next thing I know I'm being wheeled into court to face charges of...I'm not sure what! And the panel had already made up its mind as to my guilt, so there was no arguing. Eighty-sixed from London, and saddled with a hefty fine for the men Brandegoris killed and laid low. (Good lad.) Count Idar was trying to be diplomatic but it was really too much to take and we were in short order hauled from the courtroom, shouting and cursing at the top of our lungs.
My wound in my, ah, upper thigh procluded us from riding from the city, so Sir Gwalchmai devised a plan whereby Idar and I would boat up the Thames to Hertford-town while the rest of the Candlebees rode out Cripple Gate with squires disguised as me and Idar. Those Septimus thugs were completely fooled, and we got away clean
At Gwair's suggestion we will send them a dinar every Whitsuntide toward the money owed. Ha!
So, not only does Sir Gwair innocently escape the adventure of the Loose Lady of London and her Angry Brothers Greg had planned for him, but when it comes time to apply some healing to my Major Wound....Gwair is usually the Candlebees go-to guy for First Aid, so it's unusual for him to miss, much less fumble. And then the bastard rolls max damage from the fumble! I think I'm just going to steer clear of the ladies, despite my hell-sent new looks.