Thou Hast Been Born a Peasant. Can Thou Survive to Adolescence or at Least Die in a Useful Manner?
Thou Hast Been Born a Peasant. Can Thou Survive to Adolescence or at Least Die in a Useful Manner?
Thou hast successfully spewn forth from the womb and entered the Kingdom as a newborn babe. Unfortunately for thee, thou art a peasant and thy chances for survival past the infant stage are slim. Taketh this quiz to see if thy peasant baby self can survive into adolescence, or failing that, at least die in a manner which is useful to The Crowne.
On thy first day of lyfe, thy parents leave thee home alone to clean the hovel whilst they head to the fields to work. How dost thou pass the tyme?
A. Sweep the floors with a tiny baby broom then warsh the clothes with thy tiny baby hands.
B. Learn to read and write. Use this knowledge to publish pamphlets critical of The Crowne under a pseudonym.
C. Lie there doing nothing because thou art a useless peasant baby.
A band of Royal Guardsmen ist passing throughst thy village to collect taxes, set things on fire, and just generally torment the villagers because they have nothing else to do. To escape them, thy family ist hidden in a nook in thy house with all of thy valuables. How dost thou alert the Guardsmen to thy location?
A. Shout, “Here, Guardsmen! Mine family ist hiding in the walls with their valuables to escape paying The King’s taxes!” Since thou art a baby, this sounds like an obnoxious wail to everyone else, but it gets their attention. ‘Tis an honourable thing to give all of thy possessions to thy government, and anyway the Guardsmen are just doing their jobbe.
B. Lay a trap for the Guardsmen. Wet the floor with a tiny mop so they slip whilst ransacking thy hovel. When one of them ist on his back and weighed down by armour, cut his throat with a tiny baby knife.
C. Do nothing because thou art a useless peasant baby whom shall probably be tossed from the back of a horse or something if they find thee.
Foodstuffs are running low and thy peasant parents hath determined that, in order for the family to survive, one of the children will have to starve. How dost thou make sure ‘tis one of thy wretched brothers or sisters instead of thee?
A. Head down to the War Levy Office and sign all of thy brothers up to be levied into the infantry. Specifically request that the Levy Captain assign them to the bloodiest and most distant campaign to ensure they never return, and thou can feast to thy tiny heart’s content.
B. Raid the local granary where all the best quality grain is stored out of reach of filthy peasant hands, just in case The King ever wants it. If the grain stores are lower than expected, murder thy fattest sister as well.
C. Sit there and starve because thou art a helpless peasant baby who’s too weak even to raid a granary.
A plague hath stricken the village. So many people hath died that there are hardly enough to work the fields. How dost thou ensure thy family’s plot continues to produce crops for The King even though most of thy working age family members are dead?
A. Use improved farming methods to get maximum productivity from the land and outsource the labour to serfs from a non-plague-stricken village.
B. Arm, train, and organize the surviving peasants into a squadron of ox cavalry and raid the surrounding villages. Capture and enslave the occupants and declare thyself their lord baby. Now that thou art a lord, thou hast not to worry about such things as work because thy vassals will do that for thee. If anyone doubts thy supremacy due to the fact that thou art a mere babe, cut off their head with a tiny baby axe and stick it on a pike as a warning.
C. Die of plague whilst crying like a stupid peasant baby.
Ye results:
Mostly As. Congratulations! Thy tact and work ethic in support of The Crowne hath allowed thee to live at least until adolescence. No guarantees past that point, though.
Mostly Bs. Thou art a bold and foolhardy babe, thou art! Thy insolence hath made thee an enemy of The King Himself, and He shall ensure thy peasant baby feet trod not upon the earth another day. But thou at least will be of some use to His Majesty, for thou shalt give the Royal Executioner an extra neck to practice on.
Mostly Cs. Thou art useless and dull, as is typical amongst peasant babes. Thou dies miserably but thou art too boorish even to notice.