Overheard in the smithery:
M.C. Blacksmith: Stopeth! Hammer-upon-anvil time!
Overheard in the fields:
Peasant Father: No, no, no! It’s a cardinal sin.
Peasant Son: I swear father, I was born this way.
Peasant Father: Horsecockery! Your kind burns in hell for this.
Peasant Son: With all my heart, I don’t believe that is true. God wouldn’t want it that way.
Peasant Father: You’d better believe He does. And if you don’t burn below, I’ll certainly make sure you are burned at the stake!
Peasant Son: No! Please! I’ll become right-handed, I swear!
Overheard at a guild after-party:
“Let’s just say Arthur showed me more than his round table.”
“And that I could see why it was so hard to pull his sword from the magic stone.”
“And he came…”
“God, Christy, we get it, you aren’t a virgin anymore. Stop rubbing it in my face alright? You’re already twelve anyway.”