miner at the Osel, of Kuttenberg
“I hew rock, take my groschen, and try to keep what is mine from the bastards around me.”
Things Ludwig the Rat had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St George, at Vespers
Otto is wringing his huge hands over his mother Adelheid again. I told the bastard to shut his mouth and hit the rock. If my last pick breaks, I'll be a beggar, and I do not cry about it.
Nota scribaeDictated in the cellar. The man spat on the floor twice while speaking.
the third day of Easter week, at Compline
Nickel laughed in my face today when I asked for my wedge back. It cost me nearly a month's wages. Master Konrad will throw me out if I don't have iron. Return it, you bastard.
I found a hard seam today, Ludwig. I just need it a little longer, eh?
the Thursday after Laetare Sunday, at Prime
Standing in the freezing mud at the gates waiting for Master Konrad to point his fat finger. Bread is dearer than last year and the King is locked up somewhere. Better down in the dark than starving up here.
Aye, the mud never changes, lad. Just keep your head down.
the Monday after Ash Wednesday, at None
Bartel Milk-drinker says he needs my pick for just one more shift. That makes twenty shifts, you bastard. Hand it over before I lose my temper. Charity is a fool's game.
I swear on the Virgin, Ludwig, just tomorrow. I will hand it back at Vespers.
You said that on Friday, you little worm.
Nota scribaeThe dictation was interrupted by a fit of coughing.
Candlemas, at Vespers
The lower galleries flooded today. Black water everywhere. Men dropped their iron and ran like sheep, but I kept my grip. Lent a tool to Bartel and a wedge to Nickel so they can eat. Remember who saved you, bastards.
A bloody miracle we made the ladders. Praise St Barbara.
Nota scribaeHe stank of mine-water.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
She is old and the roads are full of soldiers. You have no heart, Ludwig.
A heart does not hew silver, you great lump.