"Oh that's right," says Hamish. "You weren't with us when we climbed that bean stalk."
The two and the pair of grogs they take with them start walking.
"So when we went north to find the missing magi, they found these magical beans. Must've been on somebody, but I don't remember that bit. Thadeus will know I'm sure. Or Cath'rinne. Well, no, now that I think of it, Jack had those beans, and he planted one. Next morning there was this huge beanstalk growing up into the clouds.
"So we climbed up there, because that's what you do I guess. When we got to the top there was a castle... and giants. Like the bad kind of giants. They had Chronos as a hostage. So we went to get him free but this big giantess. Biggest knockers I've ever seen, if truth be told, and she was none too happy. So I stabbed her in her eye with my longsword. And I mean stabbed her right in the sardin' middle of that big ole eye. Stuff came out of it, but it didn't stop her. She was a ragin'. And Master Janus was flingin' fire about like a war wizard of legend. He's not to be trifled with, that one. And then it kind of went to shite, and we got Chronos ourselves out of there. I nearly fell to my death down that stalk..."
Hamish shakes his head.
"And I think we still got two or three more of them beans."
The three companions make a steady pace West towards the coast, and they have plenty of time to recount the story of the beanstalk and the giants while walking. It is well after midday when you can see the sea and your path meets the Roman road a short distance South of Whitehaven.
A little after joining the road, you hear someone panting and the hee-haw of a donkey to the left of the roa, ahead of you, and when you approach you see a monk struggling to free the donkey from a capsized cart. The terrain is sloped, and the cart looks as if it may have run off the road and rolled over.
"Praised be to God, yes, help would be appreciated!" calls out the monk.
The donkey is kicking and braying loudly, trying to right itself but entangled with the harness, as the monk struggles to untie the harness to free the animal. The cart is on its side, which hold the donkey down, and its struggles are hampering the monk's efforts. There is some sort of black dust drifting in the air, and the monk's sandals are slipping in the mud. In fact, both the animal and man are generously covered in mud.
Hamish nods to the monk before coming over to help.
The big Scot puts a hand on the donkey's neck, speaking low and calm in his deep, basso voice.
"Easy now, easy. I got you." [Animal Handling14] He strokes the donkey, trying to calm it down as he helps the monk free the donkey from its harness.
Once the donkey is free, the big man then moves to try to lift the cart with his unbelievable strength but slips. [Strength Check 3, No Botch]. He frowns for a moment and takes take to take off his boots and roll up his leggings so he can get right into the mud.
On a second try, Hamish gives a big grunt, feet dug into the mud giving him more stability. [Strength Check 11]
Once the donkey is freed from the harness, it clambers up on its hooves and climbs back to the road, trotting away and braying once or twice. It doesn't go too far before stopping and panting away.
The cart isn't too hard to put back upon its wheels and back upon the road, between Hamish's great strength and the weight he can put behind his push, as well as the monk's own efforts. But then, the cart is now mostly empty, with its contents scattered in the mud along the road -- bags of charcoal (one of which has split open), a pair of wooden boxes with lids containing (one much heavier than the other), a set of bellows (slightly the worse for the experience), and a number of long bundles wrapped in tarps.
Once back on the road, the monk actually looks at his benefactor -- looks up at his benefactor. His brown robes -- now heavily stained with mud -- are held by a simple weaved rope belt. His tonsured hair is dark blonde, his eyes brown eyes and his roundish face slithgly sunburned.
He smiles, extending his hand, "Thank you my good man! I was afraid Roxie would hurt herself struggling, and didn't have a knife close by to cut her free. Would you believe she was spooked by a fox? A fox! Like she was at risk of the poor scared animal attacking her! No reason to run us off the road, you know. But what can you do?"
When Hamish shakes it, the monk's hand a large (for a man of his size) and the grip strong.
Hamish grips the monk's hand, a low rumble of a chuckle in his voice. He lets go of the monk's hand and starts to help load the cart again, lifting the bellows and boxes.
"Hamish MacDuff's the name. I feel like I met Roxie, but you didn't mention your name, Father. You headed to your Kirk or an abbey or somethin'?"
As you get organised, one of you spots a bag which had rolled further from the carts than the rest of the contents. It lies in the grass at the edge of a copse beyond the worst of the mud. As you go to pick it up, you see a path leading from further down the road into the copse, leading to three painted wooden statues between the trees. One holds an oar, the other rides a boar, and the third is one-eyed warrior.
"I'm Brother Leofric," replies the monk, "and I didn't have any specific destination in mind, although I was directed this way by the villagers I wintered with. They mentioned that other villages might have need of my services, particularly with spring finally arriving and planting to be made. And weddings, of course!"
"What's that?" asks Leofric when he sees the wooden statues, pointing.
"I spread the word of God to those who are willing to listen," Leofric says, "but I'm a blacksmith too. I travel from village to village, for many of them have neither a blacksmith nor a church. I used to live in a monastery, but it felt like I could help the people more this way, so I asked my prior permission to leave the wall of my priory and serve those outside who need it the most."
After tying up his donkey's reins to a rock, he looks into his cart and takes out an iron-banded staff wedged under the seat. "Want to take a look? I'm sure Roxie needs some more time to calm down anyway."
There is not an awful lot to see. Behind the line of trees you find an open glade with the three statues standing on the opposite side. A couple of tree trunks seem to have been laid out along the near side of the glade. It is early spring, and the grass is brown and dead. At the feet of the statues, there is bare dirt only.
When he hears Leofric say he's a blacksmith, Hamish cocks an eyebrow and looks up toward Heaven, his uncertain faith perhaps grown just that much more uncertain and then chuckles again, turning back.
"Yer a blacksmith? Well, I'll be damned. I was just sayin' not a day ago that our little village needed a blacksmith and ... here you are. What are the odds? I should be thrownin' the bones in the next town, I should."
He follows Leofric into the copse, looking toward the statues. [Org Lore Diedne: 12, Area Lore: Lake District: 5].
Leofric approaches the statues with care, looking around, while answering Hamish, "I'll be happy to swing by your village and see what need to be fixed or made to improve your people's life. And if any of them have spiritual needs, of course. Any babies that were born who need to be baptized? Or young couples who wish to be wed? God led me here, at this time, so that we could meet. Odds and bones had nothing to do with it, my son," Leofric finishes with a smile.
How big and old are the statues? After inspecting them, Leofric will extend his hand to touch the one holding an oar, wondering at the crasftman who carved them. (Per + Awareness roll of 9)
The statues are man-high, and must be be years old. The paint is starting to fade. In fact some of the paint may be decades old, but some of the details must have been repainted a few years ago.
The glade is quiet and the statues seem to be watching over you, but there is nothing untoward that you can see.
Hamish looks over at Finn and then back to Leofric.
"We'll have to take note of this place. We have some... scholars in our little village that take an interest in things like this. Maybe one of them will want to come check this glade out."
The insight about paint and repaint is from Dunstan. There is no sense of supernatural powers in the crafted items. Is there any other particulars you were looking for?
(No, it just wasn't clear that the information didn't come from simple visual information.)
"Interesting carvings. Maybe of significance to the local villagers? Do you know them, my son?" Leofric asks Hamish. "I forgot to ask, where is your village? I was making my way north the coast, but I think I made a wrong turn some way back and the land became more hilly. So I'm not exactly sure where we are."