I am a peasant. Or Serf as my Lord calls me. I'm not a slave, but i am bound to work in this field for the rest of my life. My lord was given this land, or manor, by his lord. To his lord, my lord is a vassal or lesser lord.
This is my land that my lord bestowed upon me. They are supposed to give us land so that we can survive the winter. This is the field I grow my crops on. Its not that big but it's enough to feed me. I got this land through obligations. Since I have spent so long farming his fields, he has given me land so I can farm and make my own food.
Normally we're not allowed to leave the manor without our lord's permission. Because of this, we don't trade with other villages. The manor is very self-sufficient. We grow our own food, build our own furniture, and even weave our own clothes.
This is my home. It's very small but its enough. Inside is just some scattered straw so I can sleep and use the restroom. Everything around here costs money. We don't know where the money went so the "official" currency of the surfs is products such as grains, honey, eggs, and chickens.
Currently our lord is away so we are under the watchful eye of the Nobel lady. She watches over us like an owl when she's not cleaning or telling her servants what to do.
A few years from now I hope to have children so that I may respect their birthright and give them my farming land so that they will keep my legacy going. But until that day comes, I'm just a peasant.