I wanted confirmation that I am, in fact, in Nottingham.
I address the guard with my back straight and head high. It's an attempt to maintain a certain composure that might be unique to a higher class. "I come from Whales and intend to seek employment in the palace. Would you be so kind as to point me in the right direction, good sir?"
He laughs. "That's good. I'm sure the Shire Reeve will be pleased to have his castle called a 'palace'. So what are ye, a countant?"
He points you in the right direction. There aren't a lot of street names, but apparently if you stick to the main road it should take you to the inner gate that divides the wealthier Norman section from the Saxon section, and if you keep going you'll reach the castle soon enough.
--M. J. Young
"Indeed he will be pleased.
I have not decided what position I shall take, but I will offer my services as a scribe, unless he is in need of an individual versed in mathematics, which I very much am."
I will follow the guard's directions up the road to reach the castle. I shall keep a firm grasp on my bag while I walk and my eyes constantly looking, just in case someone tries to make me the victem of a theft today.
I'll carry Harry while I'm on my way, not wanting him to get lost in the hustle of the crowd.
"I'm sure the shire reeve can always use help with the tax records. Course, there's also the Book of the Dead has to be kept up."
It's probably about twenty minutes before you reach a wall that's a bit taller than the one around the city--maybe three stories high and quite solid. Sometimes buildings abut against it, but you follow it as well as you can and reach a gate. There are two guards here, and the gate is closed, as is the postern alongside it.
--M. J. Young
I take time to absorb my surroundings, and note how high the walls here are. Clearly this location is meant to be better-defended than Nottingham as a whole. The best job to get under the Reeve would be his tax records. I recall my education in mathematics and how I could easily put them to use in this time period. The son of an accountant.
When I finally reach the guards, I speak directly to them, not choosing a specific one to address. "I have heard that the Reeve needs assistance in the matter of the tax records and keeping the Book of the Dead. I have education in English writing as well as some skill in mathematics."
They look at each other, as if no one has ever walked up to the gates and applied for a job before. Then they shrug, and one of them says, "Come with me."
He opens the postern gate and leads through the small guard room and out the other side into the bailey. From here you can see that the ground rises ahead, and there are several buildings including one defensible tower at the top of the hill. He takes you not to the tower but to a low stone building that spreads over some area.
Entering, he addresses someone in the first room. "My lord, this man claims to be a scribe and an accountant seeking employ with the shire reeve."
"Does he indeed?" says the man, through strong traces of a French accent. "Let us find out what he can do. Dismissed."
The guard leaves, and the Frenchman addresses you. "So, you can read and write and add and subtract. That is impressive for an Englishman."
--M. J. Young
I follow the guards, and note their initial reaction. Perhaps I was going against a social protocol when it comes to applying for employment? Or, just as likely, no one wants to work for the shire's reeve. This would give insight into his character, probably.
After coming into the room with my interviewer, and decide to lay all of my cards on the table now, or at least the cards that he would understand.
"Actually, sir, I can do more than that. I understand how to divide and multiply as well." I leave out my skills with algebra and calculus for the time being, and allow this information as all the Frenchman needs to know. "You'll be satisfied to know that I am not simply an Englishman. Would you care to evaluate my skills to confirm them?"
I glance casually around the room to seek out a parchment of some kind.
It is the job of the reeve to collect the taxes and conscript soldiers as needed by the crown. From what the Merry Men say, the shire reeve of Nottingham is not even-handed in his collections--he'll squeeze every penny out of a Saxon commoner, but defer to the claims of poverty of a Norman nobleman. The Saxons certainly don't want to work for him because most of the jobs involve collecting money from poor Saxons. The Normans generally don't have to, although some would enjoy that sort of work. Most of the guards are either imported from other shires (so they won't know anyone here) or are ruffians who find it easier to be the police than the criminals.
He is impressed by your math--you can see his eyebrow rise when you mention multiplication and division--but he is unable to read your handwriting, which, you realize, is a bit different from that current in the twelfth century. Still, he thinks you'll be an asset, and says he will recommend to the shire reeve that you be hired to help with the accounting. Your handwriting isn't that bad, and with some work you'll be able to figure out how to adjust it for the local orthography.
He asks what you mean, that you are not simply an Englishman.
--M. J. Young
"I meant, simply, sir, that I am an educated man. That is all I meant by it-the title of 'educated' invokes pride in me just as much as any country name would. To be truthful, though, I hail from a small town in Whales initially. I've worked hard to gain the knowledge that I possess today."
I turn the questioning on him for just a moment. "If I may ask, how did you acquire work with the shire reeve?"
"I meant, simply, sir, that I am an educated man. That is all I meant by it-the title of 'educated' invokes pride in me just as much as any country name would. To be truthful, though, I hail from a small town in Whales initially. I've worked hard to gain the knowledge that I possess today."
I turn the questioning on him for just a moment. "If I may ask, how did you acquire work with the shire reeve?"
"Ah, then an educated Saxon.
"I suppose I came with the castle. That is, I worked for the previous shire reeve, and when he retired and a new one was appointed I was still part of the staff, and being by that point senior I was in charge of keeping the books. Before that, well, being a third son of an untitled Norman usually means going into administrative service, and King Henry the Second, Lord rest his soul, assigned me here before King Richard's time."
--M. J. Young
I address the Frenchman by name (assuming that he's given it to me by now), "Well, I must say that it is enticing to finally be able to speak to someone who also comes from a base of knowledge.
I apologize for my frankness, but may I ask you now what the goings-on of the castle are like? What is the general order of the day for a simple accountant in this place?"
"Well, of course there are services for those who wish to attend, beginning with Matins and ending with Vespers. The shire reeve does not attend them all himself and does not require his men to do so, but most feel it wise to appear at least occasionally, if only to stay in the good graces of the most reverend father. Breakfast is after Matins and Dinner is before Vespers. Some days are busy, when the collectors bring money that has to be entered on the books and we have to find out from whom it was collected in what amount. Other days are quiet.
"You can go out in the evenings any time from before dinner if you like, but be back by compline or you'll be locked out for the night, and the gate does not open again until after breakfast."
--M. J. Young
"Ah, indeed. I understand that I am to be lodged in a room within the castle, then?"
I allow the Frenchman to take me about wherever I need to go in order to be oriented to my new environment. I trust that he won't lead me astray, so I follow his lead about the ins and outs of the castle.
For the present, he shows you the staff dining hall and the privies, and introduces you to a butler who seems to be head of the services. This man takes you in tow and delivers you to a small room with a bed, a chair and a table with a candle, and a washstand with a pitcher and basin. He recommends that you settle in and clean up a bit. Baths are provided the first weeks of May, August, and November.
Dinner will be served in about an hour.
--M. J. Young
I opt to rest for the time that I have, and just clean up with the bit of water that's available to me. If this requires a skill check, I only have movies to go off of for pouring the water from the pitcher into the basin, and then washing off my head, armpits, and hands.
I splash a little more water on my face for alertness when it is time for dinner, wiping it off thoroughly before actually going. I leave Harry in the room to wait.
Are there any clothes in the room?
Is it alright with you if I steal game mastery of your game, Kurt?
The only cloth in the room is a heavy canvas-like cover over the straw that is the mattress. You brought your gear, though, so you will have your own clothes, alien as they are.
I've told Kyler he can take over the game, but he wants to make sure that you don't object to having him do so. He knows Sherwood very well and has access to the materials, so I think he'll do fine.
Note to Kyler: within the Shire Reeve's castle Kurt has really only met the head accountant, who is an elderly Norman, and one of the guards. You can take the other personalities and persons as you like, although I'd think Sir Guy of Gisbourne is likely to be here somewhere.
--M. J. Young
Fine by me.
Giving yourself a sponge bath is not so difficult as I would require a skill check (people have actually done this until more recently than you think, bathing less often but washing more often, even within the last fifty years in our world it was more customary to do this.) You do get dirty water everywhere, but you've succeeded in getting much of the road grime off of yourself.
The head butler comes to your rooms and informs you that dinner is served.
I ask the butler, before heading out, if there will be anything brought in here for my cat, Harry.
Then, I do travel with him, allowing him to lead the way, to dinner.
The butler says that you can bring the cat along with you.
§
The food isn't the best you've had, but is better tasting than anything you've had so far in this world. It is a stew made from some type of undisclosed meat, with flour-based dumplings and what you recognize as carrots and onions. The layer of grease on the top is a bit unsettling, but a warm meal in a (relatively, hopefully) clean dish is pleasant, and the taste is, as stated, not terrible.
Harry seems to enjoy the bit for him, at any rate. It sure beats dry cat food.
The drink they call by the name of (the popular alcoholic beverage at the time the name of which eludes me, probably beer, ale, or mead, possibly even wine), but it is clearly highly watered, the alcohol only present for sterility.
There are other servants (the word used flexibly to mean the day-to-day live in staff of the castle, including but not limited to those who perform the daily intellectual tasks as well as those who perform the tasks which require more physical strain) present at the meal, but apparently the king and other important types eat in a seperate area, possibly with the men-at-arms, or it is also possible they eat elsewhere still.
Table manners have apparently not been invented, judging by the noises of people eating, and this area is as the others you've seen, drafty and uncomfortable (in comparison to a house in your home world. Compared to sleeping under the stars, it's a five star hotel).
§
Intentions after dinner?
(While I'm not absolutely sure of this, I'm pretty certain that the King isn't in Nottingham. This is just what I'm going off of from the information I've already gathered. I was under the impression that the shire reeve ran this castle. Again, I'm not sure, so could you just let me know what I know about the situation?)
((Yes, the shire reeve, of course; I should not have said King, I more meant the lord of the castle, the top brass, the big cheese))
I intend after dinner to return and check on my weapons in my room, where all of my possessions should be. If everything that I own is still present, I make sure that I know how to work the lock on the door (if there is one) and then go to sleep. I need to be certain to impress the shire reeve tomorrow.
Everything you left here is still present. Your night passes uneventfully, and in the morning you are awakened by the head butler, who tells you that the head bookkeeper requires your presence for a time.
Once you arrive, your morning is spent counting money, making notes, grouping it, and recounting it, then telling others how much was in each of the first piles and how much was in the larger pile so they can note it in their books.
How well do you understand the monetary system of the day? If you don't, you get a crash course today.
I might have picked some of the information up from hanging out in the woods with the merry men, but that was never actually stated or inquired about.
I personally don't know anything about any currencies other than American, Ancient Greek, or Ancient Roman.
Personally, I'm not intimately acquainted with it myself.
Hey, look! It's The First Book of Worlds!
Hmm, hmm, hmm hmm... well, no information about the monetary system there, so we get to rough it.
10 g copper to 1 g silver, 10 g silver to 1 g gold, and 10 g gold to 1 g platinum. So, 1000 g copper to 1 g platinum and vice versa. Not too hard to comprehend, but the abacus is a real piece of work here.
That seems like a fairly simple system. I'll spend the first day following directions and keeping an eye on the list of unpaid taxes, paying specific attention to where it goes after the day is finally over.
I make a mental note of the location, and proceed to follow the flow of things, listening in on my coworkers talking and trying to engage at least two in conversation during the day.
Your coworkers in bookkeeping, there are two; the boss, who you've met, and one other Norman. ((His name is Norman; he's Norman the Norman. His parents must have hated him.))
At the end of the day, your boss tsks at the list of unpaid taxes, and makes a comment about the ungrateful Saxons. He provides both the list and a handwritten note to an armed guard, and says, "See to it this gets to the shire reeve, good sir."
I would like to simply observe while building friendships with the two bookkeeping workers, including the "boss". I pay attention specifically to the guard who is handed the unpaid taxes every day. Does the guard change, or is it the same man every time?
Finally, I try and track down the bar in which the merry men want to meet me in, whenever I actually get the opportunity at the end of an evening to leave the castle.
It seems to change between different men,; it seems to be several guards but not every guard. How long are you observing?
You are paid daily, one silver piece each day.
You have no trouble finding the bar the merry men wish to meet you in. You sit at a table in the hopes that you'll meet someone from the merry men here.
A somewhat attractive, pale skinned, petite barmaid with long red hair tied back with a ribbon, green eyes, and a hint of an Irish accent approaches your table and inquires what m'lord would like to have tonight.
I opt to get just a casual mead, nothing special.
If the night goes without any event of Robin's men finding me, then I proceed back to the castle and continue with the next day.
I ask my two companions of bookkeeping if they happen to know any languages other than English and would be interested in teaching it to me.
I plan to do initial observing and conversation for the first two weeks.
The barmaid notices you loitering and looking around, and asks if you're waiting for someone in particular.
I plan on buying the drink. Is she nagging me about loitering, when I'm buying alcohol on the premisis, or is this a genuine question on if I'm waiting for anyone?
What tone is she asking me the question in?
She appears to be trying to make conversation with you; it's possible that she's flirting with you, or trying to find a way to squeeze a few more coins out of you. She does not seem to be trying to rush you to get out.
"Ah, just coming to see if I could make any friends in town. I'm new in Nottingham, myself."
Is she a Saxon?
I decide to stick with my current beverage for the time being, but friendly conversation still doesn't hurt.
No, she's neither Saxon nor Norman; she's Irish.
She tells you, "I'm new here, too; to Nottingham, not to England. There's so much to take in here; and how about those forest raiders there are all these stories about? Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor; a romantic concept, wouldn't you say?"
I smile at her accent and her newness to the area as well. "I've heard about the forest raiders, but I met no trouble from them on the way here, and I must've walked straight through.
I must not look rich." I adopt a grin, in good humor, still trying to make out if she's a spy for the shire reeve or truly a possible comrade of the merry men. "Romantic concepts, I'm afraid, fall short on some, but I admit that it would make one popular story, with the right writer.
Still, doesn't it seem like a temporary solution to a prolonged problem?"
double post:
I still don't understand the system and am more than willing to learn it. When rolls happen, could you describe them here in excruciating detail?