writer of letters and charters, of Kuttenberg
“I am a man of property and a writer of fair hand, asking only what is mine by right.”
Things Kvyetoslav Stone had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Vespers
That whelp John Swift still holds my finest goose quills. I lent them to him in good faith to practice his letters, and now the ungrateful boy refuses to hand them back. It is my right to have them. If a man cannot trust his neighbors, what is left?
Nota scribaeHe breathed very heavily through his nose while dictating this.
the feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate, at None
My daughter Clemence brings nothing but exhaustion to my house. She talks of marrying some penniless boy with no trade and no silver. I have forbidden it, as is my right before God. A father must rule his house, yet she argues back like a market fishwife.
He is a good lad, father, and I will not marry a dusty old miser just to please your pride.
Leave her be, father. You will shout yourself into a fit again.
the Thursday after Easter, at Sext
Sat at my board behind Saint James all morning. Stislav Weaver is drunk again and Bynyek Brown is telling his foolish jokes. Half the alley is wasting their groschen while I work. My hand is clearer than half the monks at Sedletz, and I earn every penny.
I only had two cups to keep the spring chill from my bones, you miserable old badger.
Nota scribaeThe man demanded I write smaller so as not to waste the parchment.
the Monday after Saint Benedict, at Terce
Bread is dearer than last year, and the soldiers on the roads make everything worse. Yet that chartered thief Julian the clerk will still demand our market stall rents come Saint Martin's day. We toil in the alley and the registry house swallows the silver.
Aye, every groschen pinched and taken. A man cannot save a copper in this town.
the Wednesday after Candlemas, at Prime
My brother Benesh is a thief. He works the far strip of land outside the walls that my father promised to me on his deathbed. It is mine by right! I will drag him before the bailiff before the harvest, as God is my witness.
Father left it to me and you know it. Stop shouting your lies to the whole alley.
Nota scribaeHe turned entirely red at the mention of his brother.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You know well why I kept them. You broke your word and told my father about Avice.
I only did what was proper! Keep your nose out of my affairs and return my property.