Disgusting wall hanging! And my shitty bed smells like the fragrant lilac perfume of Valstaag's old aunt! I would rather find some rest with my men, but I can't show any weakness against absurd paintings.
They are starting to read? They're reading! My men are reading. That can't possibly be true. At the breakfast I will let some heads roll. That will bring them back to manly thoughts.
These damn paintings won't come off. Like it's jinxed. What kind of scoundrel is this Dal'Vaastag?