hired hand at the Rathaus, of Miskowitz
“I haul wood and grain until my back breaks, and the bailiff pays me in fines. Sakra, I just need a real bed.”
Things Lawrence had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of St Sophia, at Vespers
Sakra, I saw it gleam in the dirt first. Just a bit of copper, but it would buy my ale for a month. A certain young pup thinks he can keep it all, but I carried his halberd when he was too tired on the road.
Nota scribaeDictated in the stable yard. He rubbed his eyes throughout and smelled of sour ale.
the second day of Easter week, at Sext
My back is locked solid from hauling the bailiff's oats. I had to spend my last penny in Adleta's cellar just to numb the pain. I am not old, sakra, I just need to sleep on feathers instead of stable boards.
Your pennies are always welcome, Lawrence, but I will not let you sleep in the cellar again.
the Friday before Palm Sunday, at None
Otto asked me for three groschen to pay his tab. I told him he pays in wind and excuses. If I had three groschen to spare, I wouldn't be hauling dung while Julian throws his weight around the yard.
It was only a loan until the summer, Lawrence. You are too hard on a friend.
If you spent less time moaning and more time shovelling, the yard would be clean by now.
Nota scribaeHe sighed heavily before speaking each sentence.
the third week of Lent, at Compline
Poor Denis is dead of the lung fever. At least up in heaven he won't be shivering in a ditch. And the bailiff still took two groschen from us because lazy Bynyek walked off into the dark. Outright theft, sakra.
the second week of Lent, at Prime
Sent to Suchdol to guard a rich Kuttenberg merchant's stuck wagons. Three days freezing in the mud, carrying spears for the guards while Christopher wept over his wheels. Sakra, the man's axles are broken, but my boots are entirely ruined.
The merchant was a wealthy fool. He did not even notice what went missing from his own carts.
Nota scribaeThe man was covered in mud and refused to stand straight.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
You saw nothing, old man. Finders keep the coin, and my pouch was open.
We will see who is an old man when you need someone to lift your gear, sakra.