woodworker at the lower yard, of Kuttenberg
“I am the strongest back in the lower yard and I haul what others cannot. I do my work, take my clipped coin, and ask nothing of anybody.”
Things Joerg Wolf had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Thursday before Whitsun, at Vespers
The bailiff is drawing up a list for the next military levy for the king, or whoever is king this week. I hope to God they take Veit Preng instead of me. The man wrings his hands and whines so much he is of no use in the yard anyway. Let the Cumans have him.
Nota scribaeDictated in the street. He spat on the ground after naming the older man.
the eve of St George, at None
Andrew Alder struts around the yard acting as if he sits on the royal council. He forgets he is just a common woodworker like the rest of us here. He looks down his nose at that servant girl Ursula, but his own son is the one chasing her to her master's walled estate.
Keep my son and my family name out of your mouth, you sullen brute.
Then stop acting like you are the master of the mint.
the third day of Easter week, at Sext
Richard Weaver asked me for the loan of a penny to buy a heel of bread. I told him to go to hell. I know the whoreson pawned James's war gear to Menhard the broker just to cover a tavern slate. I will not lend a copper to a shifty thief bound for the pillory.
You could have just said no without wishing the pillory on me, Joerg.
Nota scribaeThe man spent several moments admiring his own arms before speaking.
the Tuesday after St Gregory, at Compline
Hauled scaffolding for the masons at the Italian Court until dusk today. My back is raw, but I am the only one strong enough to shift the heavy beams alone. Master Hans pays us honest Czech hands in clipped coin while the German burghers pocket the heavy silver. It is a bloody theft.
Just bring the coin home, Joerg, clipped or not. We need flour.
Candlemas, at Prime
People are whispering about the accident with the mine props. Peter let the rope slip first. He lost his grip, and I was left to bear the entire massive load alone before it fell on his leg. If he had held his end, his leg would not be shattered. I will not visit him.
You know you slipped first, Joerg. You know it. A real man would admit it instead of hiding in the yard.
You two were the best of friends. It is a terrible shame, all of it.
Go and see him, son. The longer you wait, the heavier the timber gets.
Nota scribaeHe spoke this very quickly and refused to look up from his boots.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I have a wife and children to feed, Joerg. You only have your own miserable pride.