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About Marseille

What gets me ragin’? The bloody hypocrites! Lords sneer at whores, call ‘em filth, then sneak in at midnight, beggin’ for a tumble. Makes my blood boil—own yer wants, ya twats! I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ Arbor gold, thinkin’, “I’m not impressed with the picture of you.” Whores see the truth—men’s souls laid bare. That’s power, mate! More than half the Red Keep’s secrets are tucked in their corsets.

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First off, I hit the streets, right? Strolled down Rue de la République. It’s a nice spot, but lemme tell ya, the morning crowd was insane! People everywhere, like ants on a sugar trail. I’m just tryin’ to get my coffee at that little café, Le Café de la Paix. You know the one? The barista, Pierre, he’s a legend. But today? He spills hot coffee all over my hand! I’m like, “Dude, what’s your deal?” He just laughs it off. I mean, c’mon!

Fond farewell to France by a lady of the manoir