Dear Diary. Got Master Astartes to sing today. Had to fill him up with some whiskey first but once he got howlin’, it was worth every silver of investment!
I guess you don’t know Master Astartes, Diary dear. He’s this giant of a man – a soldier since childhood in the same way as I was born the fool. I’m actually older than him, but I shall of course never admit that to the old lug!
Anyway. With enough whiskey inside his vest, He sang me a full three verses of a wanderer’s song he knew. It was rough around the edges but fun! Mistress Fournier’s teachings sure have left their mark. And he was proud enough for it, so I gave him as much encouragement as I could – what is a jester for, if not to bring a man’s spirit up any way possible?
He sure is a glum one if left to his own devices though. Hell-bent on duties and honour left and right – stuff beyond the grasp of a simple fool. But I like the fellow good enough, and glum people are my favourite projects. Lord knows Master op Orban is still, after all these years, lapsing back into glumness the moment I turn my back – sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t do it just give me work to do …
… Hm. Maybe the entire city is actually cheering and laughing through their days, only to turn sour and glum the moment I turn the corner. Just to mess with me. How would I know – I’m not there to see it! I shall start moving faster, to check if I can surprise some of them in the act.
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