The Frugal Wizard's Handbook for Surviving Medieval England

by Brandon Sanderson

Maybe I was simply a weirdo who liked to dress in old-timey clothing to…go explode in fields? You know, as one does.

I’d woken up in the middle of a burning field. The review almost wrote itself. An ideal experience, if you happen to be a pyromaniac cow. One star.

Nevertheless, my gut said I was a person who trusted his gut.

“Alakazam BIOS discography Philadelphia à la disco,” I said, stopping right in front of the invaders, hands on my hips. “Nitrogen! I.E. polyester Garfunkle’n Garfield!” Don’t judge me. It sounded like a perfectly mystical and unknowable language to them

Horses were less the thundering creatures of pounding hoofbeats and unparalleled speed found in movies and more like golf carts that ran on a tank of grass and occasionally bit you.

Right. Agrarian culture. Break of dawn. Gotta milk the chickens or whatever.

bowing his head to me with reverence. “Greetings and welcome.” I stifled a sigh. Honestly, you save one village from being burned and pillaged by Vikings, and look what happens.

“Wait,” I said. “Was that flirting? Were we flirting?” She rolled her eyes again and kept walking. Nice, John, I thought. That’s a pro move. I appeared to be terrible with women. Good to know.

“You are something special. Here. Now. That is what matters. So what if your knowledge is common among your kind? It is rare here. Perhaps every magus sent by Ahura Mazda to teach, instruct, and protect is like you. Simply someone who knows a little more—a little better—than everyone else.”

“Do not be ashamed of your joy,” he told us, his voice intense. “Regardless of what aelv Ryan says. This is not a thing of shame. It is why I fight. It is why my sons bled. Never be ashamed of joy.”