展开事件内容（包含选项结果与剧透）
| 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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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 |
