展开事件内容（包含选项结果与剧透）
中文译文
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吟游诗人拿起一把鲁特琴。你完全不知道这乐器是哪儿来的，可他拨了几下琴弦，便引来了全团的注意。他抬起头，闭上眼，开始歌唱。"我……——拨弦——钱袋空空，投身佣兵一帮……——拨弦——他们要的是战士，我却只会歌唱。完。"
那傻瓜把鲁特琴往肩后一甩，全团都笑了起来。
吟游诗人像变戏法的人凭空变出兔子那样，掏出一把鲁特琴。他熟练地拨动琴弦，接着放声唱起来。“从前有头怪物，祸害美丽的里加邦……——拨弦——……他们都说，如果我没记错，那真是个大麻烦……——拨弦，拨弦——……
这野兽只吃女人，还专挑处女，噢，它的品位可真不赖！……——轻快拨弦——……可很显然，不论男人女人，都不愿遭此灾！……——生涩拨弦，换个调——……
于是他们请来加利科克爵士，那是全境最会挥剑的人……——俏皮拨弦——……他便挨家挨户登门，以好剑客的本事征服了每一位处女！……——悠长而哀伤的拨弦——……怪物就这样饿死了。唱完啦。”
"诸位，你们是我见过最出色的一批男人。这么说，是因为我从没见过亲爹，这辈子又一直跟女人混。"
他满怀渴望地望着远方。
"娘的，我可真跟过不少女人。"
随后他坐了下来。四周安静了片刻，接着爆发出哄堂大笑。
吟游诗人正在找自己的鲁特琴。找不到，他便改弹一把无形的琴，用拇指俏皮地凭空拨动着。"等等，这声儿不对，让我调调。"
他抬手拧了拧手指，又拨一下。
"见鬼？比刚才还糟。等会儿，我保证能调好。"
他再试，可这一“拨”显然还是不行。
“让这破玩意儿见鬼去吧！”
吟游诗人跳起身，把那看不见的琴往地上砸了一次又一次，最后远远扔进高草。他抹去额头的汗。
"亲爱的父亲，你说得对，我就该去当铁匠。"
随后他怒冲冲地走了，身后传来弟兄们莫名其妙却又忍俊不禁的笑声。
吟游诗人一边往火里撒土，一边说起话来，谁也不确定他究竟在对谁说。"旧神说，要有光，对吧？这是祂们最先做的事，所以光显然很重要。"
他捡起一块土，似乎在仔细研究。
"那为什么，女人最暗的地方，偏偏藏着最多乐趣？"
起初还一头雾水的围观者，顿时哄堂大笑。
吟游诗人站起来，双靴一碰，发出啪的一声。"要不要我教教你们这些笨蛋，什么叫跳舞？"
几个弟兄抬头，摇了摇头。
“哎呀，别这样。很简单的，看好了。”
他抬起一条腿，弯出常人不该有的角度，才重新落地。接着举臂过头，旋转身体，再把双臂展开，仿佛要飞。其实相当优美，不过你绝不会向任何活人承认。你看着吟游诗人继续表演，身体向前一倾，忽然对着一名弟兄的脸，放了一个骇人的响屁。
吟游诗人瞬间挺直腰，仿佛这一股气治好了他的背疾，他便迫不及待地活动起来。
"我，呃……好了，各位，到此为止！希望你们都把动作学会了！"
他拔腿就跑，一个格外恼火、浑身臭味的人紧追不舍。其余弟兄笑得前仰后合。
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除吟游诗人外，33%的弟兄心情变好 |
截图
英文原文
| Minstrel Writes Song |  35
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|---|---|---|
 Minstrel
吟游诗人 |
The Minstrel吟游诗人 entertains 33% of your brothers and they get a  good mood.
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Interactive window
Minstrel吟游诗人 the minstrel picks up a lute. You've no clue where he got the instrument, but he gives the strings a few strokes, drawing the attention of the rest of the company. He picks up his head, eyes closed, and begins to sing."I... -strum- joined a band of mercenaries, my coffers all gone... -strum-... they wanted a fighter, but all I had were songs. The end."
The company laughs as the fool throws the lute over his shoulder.
Minstrel吟游诗人 the minstrel produces a lute seeming out of thin air like a magician would a rabbit. He gives it a practiced strum, then breaks into song."There once was a monster that terrorized fair Riggabong... -strum-... They called it, if I recall, a real problem... -strum strum-...
This beast could only feast on the ladies, but just the virgins oh yeah it had great taste!...-plucky strum-... but obviously that was not, for man or woman, a desired fate!...-sketchy strum, a new one-...
So they hired Sir Galicock, the greatest sword-swinger in the land...-playful strum-...and so he went door to door, and vanquished every virgin a good swordsman can!...-a lingering, sad strum-... and the monster starved to death. The end."
"Aye, you are some of the finest men I've ever met. I say that because I never knew my father and I spent all my years with the womenfolk."
He stares longingly into the distance.
"Damn, have I been with a lot of women."
And then he sits down. A moment of silence lingers in the air before it's broken with uproarious laughter.
Minstrel吟游诗人 the minstrel is looking for his lute. Upon not to being able to find it, he resorts to an 'air lute' instead, plucking playfully with his thumb."Hold on, that didn't sound quite right, lemme tune it."
He raises his hand and twists his finger, then goes for another strum.
"The hell? That was worse than the first. Just a sec, I'll get it, I promise."
He tries again, but apparently this 'strum' wasn't any good either.
"To hell with this piece of shite!"
The minstrel jumps to his feet and repeatedly smashes the invisible lute against the ground before heaving it into the tall grass. He sweeps the sweat from his brow.
"You were right, dear father, I should have been a blacksmith."
And then he storms off, confused laughter from the company crackling behind him.
While throwing dirt into the fire, Minstrel吟游诗人 the minstrel begins to speak, to whom nobody can be sure."The old gods said let there be light, did they not? 'Tis the first thing they did, so clearly light must be important."
He picks up a piece of dirt and seems to analyze it.
"So why is there so much pleasure to be found where a woman is darkest?"
The initially confused onlookers burst into laughter.
Minstrel吟游诗人 the minstrel stands up and clacks his boots together."Shall I show you fools how to dance?"
A few men look up and shake their heads.
"Oh come on. It's simple. Watch."
The man raises a leg, it goes into an angle no man's leg should before planting back on the ground. He twirls, arms above his head. He then fans his arms out as if to fly. It's actually quite beautiful, though you'd never admit as much to any living soul. You watch as the minstrel continues, leaning forward when suddenly he rips a horrendous fart right into Otherbrother's face.
Minstrel吟游诗人 straightens up in an instant, as though the gas had fixed a bad back and he sought the immediate use of it.
"I, uh... well, that's all folks! So hopefully you got the moves down pat!"
He runs off, a particularly slighted and smelly man on his heels. The rest of the men bowl over with laughter.
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33% of brothers, except Minstrel吟游诗人, get a good mood |