Sir Percival (A Medieval Murder Mystery)

It was not long after daybreak on a Wednesday morning when Sir Percival Windsor-Brimble rose to his feet at the conclusion of the morning mass. A frosty wind swept through the great hall of the ancient church, causing Sir Percival’s hairs to stand on end as he folded up the cushioned kneeler and slipped his Bible back into the holder on the darkly stained wooden pew. The solemn hymn came to an end, and the congregation began to shuffle out. cathedral

As he made his way past the ornate Holy Doors and out into the open, Sir Percival noted the grey skies and light mist that sat in the November air. There was much to accomplish today, the worst of which of course would be the accursed dance practice King Daerik expected all Knights of the Realm to undertake. Sir Percival was no longer the nimble young man he had been, and now in his forties felt every ache and creak in his bones even as he still outfought men half his age during weapons training.

war-horse.jpgWeapons training was a dreadful bore, and as for dance, fi on it! If it had been proper Sir Percival would have wished a pox upon King Daerik for ordering mandatory dance lessons for every Knight of the Realm and yet it was not proper and so Sir Percival merely endured his torture with a caustic grin. No, weapons and dance were not what brought meaning to Sir Percival’s days. Nor was it in particular his goodwife Prunella Windsor-Brimble, née Pickle-Dickens, whose presence behind him he ignored as he briskly made his way out of the great church. Nor was it his equally disappointing eldest boy, Lemuel, soon to be a squire in his own right, nor his tedious daughter Cordelia, whose modest looks and unassuming personality lead Sir Percival to fear he’d never marry her off. No; the true apple of this old knight’s eye was his horse, Balius the Bold, and it was horsemanship training with Balius that afforded Sir Percival his best joy in life. Balius was neither a nimble nor powerful horse – although he had been something of a warrior in his youth – but he traced his lineage to a long line of feared steeds going back all the way to Alexander the Great’s horse Bucephalus. More than this, he was a loyal mount; loyal to his master, loyal to his King, and above all loyal to his Lord (the Lord of all horses being Horse-Jesus, who had trotted on the Earth thousands of years before human Jesus, but around the same time as Shark Jesus).
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Lost Analysis: The Problem with Kate

problem-with-kate-austen

Kate’s one of those characters who, in retrospect, was a perfect example of the writers’ shortsightedness.

When you think about Kate, you think about one of the first mysteries in the series: the handcuffs. Who was the convict on the plane? Surely it was the Arab man — no, it must be the southern hick! Who could it be?

The girl?! No way! But– But she helped the doctor! It — wow, I didn’t see that coming.

All the while the writers snickered in a corner, “No, you didn’t see it coming did you? We subverted your expectations because we played on common gender roles and stereotypes; we counted on you being sexist! Ha-ha! We’re so clever!”

But then the show got picked up for 5 more seasons. What do you do with a character that’s been on the run since she was… 15? 18? It’s never really clear.

And that’s the problem with Kate. She was a “pull-the-rug-out-from-under-you” character that was never thought out. She was used to subvert expectations for a reveal that — in the grand scheme of the show — is super underwhelming and irrelevant.

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