master builder and daily labourer, of Kuttenberg
“I am a master builder of Kuttenberg, though the new clerks treat me like a common mud-mixer. Life was better when a man's word meant something over a pint.”
Things Roger Wood had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Prime
I pray day and night that the King's brother calls off this bloody levy. A man's bones ache too much for marching. Mostly I pray because I might have left Gottfried's padded gambeson with the ale-wife to settle a score, and if he finds out, he'll kill me.
Nota scribaeHe spoke this very quietly, looking over his shoulder.
the feast of Saint George, at Terce
That whoreson Henslin is wearing a pair of war gauntlets that I paid for! He pawned them to me, and now he walks around town acting as if they are his own. If he doesn't hand them over before the muster, there will be hell to pay.
You bought them off me for a pittance when I was deep in my cups, Roger. I need them for the levy!
the Tuesday after Easter, at None
Christ almighty! Easter is gone and Nicholas Fuller claims my copper jug is forfeit. I offered him a favour in the summer, brother to brother, but the greedy youth demands hard groschen. What happened to respect for your elders in this trade?
A vague favour doesn't pay for the ale you drank, Roger. Pay what you owe or the jug is mine.
You usurer! A true craftsman would not rob his brother of his goods over a few days' delay.
Nota scribaeDictated in the street, shouted at a window above the carpenter's lane.
the second week of Lent, at Vespers
Hauling stone like a mule today. I have built half the roofs in this town, but this new clerk knows nothing. God rest old Humphrey. He broke his neck on the scaffold, but he knew how to treat a master builder, and never minded a small advance on wages.
Humphrey was a fool to give you a penny before the work was done, Roger. Stop your whining and lift the stone.
Ash Wednesday, at Prime
A dry throat is a terrible thing at the start of Lent. I gave my good copper jug to Nicholas Fuller to hold for the price of three ales. Just a brotherly pledge! I told the lad I will have the coin back by Easter.
Three ales and not a penny less, old man. Bring the coin by Easter or the jug stays with me.
Nota scribaeThe man smelled entirely of stale beer and stood very close.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You did what with my gambeson, you old drunkard? I paid you to keep it safe!
Now Gottfried, friend, it is just a slight misunderstanding between brothers! I will sort it out.