miner at the north houses, of Kuttenberg
“Fifteen years eating dust for the king's groschen, and all I have for it is ruined guts. Sakra, my belly aches.”
Things Walter had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Ascension, at None
My guts are ruined. I bought some cheap pork from a cart by the monastery a few days ago, green near the bone. Sakra, I cannot stand up. I need wormwood steeped in hot wine, but it grows past the walls and I am too sick to walk.
Nota scribaeDictated between bouts of painful coughing.
the second day of Easter week, at Vespers
If I miss another shift because of this churning belly, Maresh will dock my tally again. The man has no heart. I will end up pawning my boots to Julian just to afford a loaf of bread, and then how will I walk the galleries?
the Thursday before Palm Sunday, at Prime
Thomas keeps asking for his iron back. I borrowed it at Candlemas, true enough, but the boy is a careless idiot. If I give it back he will only break it against a hard seam. Sakra, he should thank me for keeping it safe.
It is my tool, you old thief. Hand it over before I tell Maresh.
Just give the lad his iron, Walter. We all need to eat.
Nota scribaeThe man refused to look up from his hands while speaking.
St Gregory's day, at Sext
The timbers in the lower gallery are rotting through. I told Wilhelm but he is too cautious to complain, and Reginald the Hog just grunts. We will all die in the dark down there because the masters will not spend a penny on fresh wood.
Keep swinging your pick and shut your mouth, old man.
the day after Candlemas, at Compline
My old pick finally snapped. I took Thomas's spare for the shift. The boy does not know how to care for his tools, the edge is duller than an abbot's sermon. Sakra, I will have to fix it myself if I want a decent tally tomorrow.
Lucky you have anything to swing at all.
Nota scribaeThe word he used for the abbot was crossed out and amended.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
If you die, can I have your boots?
You still owe your lodging groschen. Sick or not, I will have you out in the street if you miss another payment.