guard at Troskowitz garrison, of Troskowitz
“I stand in the freezing mud doing the hard work so the captain can sleep soundly.”
Things Havel had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of Whitsun, at Compline
Mikesh has cut the rations again to thin pottage and hard bread. The quartermaster sits by his warm fire doing tallies while my boots wear thin. I told him he should come walk a patrol, but the fat whoreson just laughed. Kurva, I am tired of this place.
Nota scribaeHe pounded the table so hard my inkhorn nearly spilled.
the Thursday after the Ascension, at Vespers
Simon says I stole his dagger at the alehouse. Christ almighty, the boy ran from a brawl like a frightened sheep and left it on the table. I took it as a coward's fine. Come stand before me and admit you were scared, Simon, or you don't get it back.
the third day of Easter week, at Terce
Watched a wagon of refugees pass the gates this morning. The war brings nothing but hungry mouths and vagrants. Half these young boys on the wall were clinging to their mothers when I first drew a sword. They do not know how to hold a line.
They looked half dead already. The Pope's decree won't save them.
Nota scribaeDictated from the gatehouse, with much pointing at the road.
the second Sunday of Lent, at None
My joints ache from the damp. I told the boys to give me room by the hearth, and they grumbled. They should show some respect to a man who does not flinch. If you want a warm spot, earn it by standing your ground when the shouting starts.
You snore too loud anyway. Let the rest of us rest.
the morrow of Candlemas, at Prime
The snow is still heavy. Every time it falls, I think of St. Martin's day in the deep forest. Tuma would be drinking with us now if Ernest hadn't frozen in absolute panic. A rabbit gets a good man killed. I'll never let the boy forget his failure.
It was mud and chaos! I couldn't draw my sword in time. I didn't want him to die.
You left his flank exposed. I dragged his body away while you shook. Coward.
Let the dead rest, Havel. It was an ambush.
Nota scribaeThe man stared at his hands for a long time before speaking.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
Least he isn't docking pay this week. I need the coin for the dice.
Keep gambling your wages away and you'll eat your own boots.