A Slight Change of Style
Of all the things Giovanni hated about life at the monastery - and he hated almost everything about life amid that dank, miserable huddle of buildings - it was the clothing that tormented him the most. He still shuddered when he recalled that coarse robe the color of faded shit that made him itch like a dog with mange. He had never felt such elation when he finally burned it in the campfire. That day he had spent his meager silver on a pair of sky-blue hose and a jaunty red tunic. He figured that the silver cross, which he had filched from the abbot's cell on his way out of the monastery, would be enough to signify his status as a cleric.

All he needed was a hat, and when that drunken noblewoman in the wagon rain from Naples left her thickly-plumed hat at the edge of the firelight while she stumbled off to puke, Giovanni's outfit was complete.

But his first few days in Florence had been disenchanting. People looked at him strangely when he claimed to be a priest, and some people even seemed to find him slightly ridiculous. He had never experienced this in Naples, when he dressed as jauntily as he pleased, but that may have been because people knew that he was an Alighieri, and feared disrespecting the family, especially his uncle Fausto, who was better knows as the Finger, due to his habit of relieving people of their digits when they crossed the family.

Agnola's rejection was most disappointing. He had never been good at getting women to consent to doing anything more than cooking for him, but he had hoped that his priestly status would help. There had been nothing but withered old men at the monastery, and the women he had met since leaving there had not seemed at all interested, but he still had high hopes about Florence.

So the next day, he traded the foppish outfit and the rest of his gold for the black habit of a Dominican monk. The plumy hat fetched him enough silver to buy a robe of soft linen, with gold thread work. Not as stylish as he would have liked, but still much better than the literal hair shirt that had afflicted him at the monastery.

He studied himself in the mirror, and was most pleased. "Buono," he said, blew himself a kiss. It saddened him to change out of it and don his simple adventuring clothes - leather breeches and a simple tunic - but he gave the teenage serving girl a silver to watch over the clothes carefully while he was away.

"If God allows me to return from this dangerous endeavor," he told her, "perhaps you will join me as I pray in thanksgiving."

Session: Game Session 01 - Sunday, Mar 29 2020 from 12:00 PM to 3:00 PM
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2 Comments

Great post. He's a very complex character. The fact that he's a Dominican is a nice touch as were the other details like the noble woman heading off to puke. Really enjoyed this.
"The Finger!"