The street outside the church is empty, with not a soul in sight. The sky is gray and seems to threaten snow. The pavement is rutted and worn, littered with loose cobblestones and other signs of disuses and disrepair. The only sound is the cold wind blowing, and the awful metallic squeak as it blows the iron gate open and shut.
gate to street, Outside Church
person
scullions
I hate it here. I want out. Nobody appreciates what I do for this damned castle!
-mumbles quietly to self- What are you doing out here scullions muttering to yourself? Just being irritated with my job.... Why? Are you mistreated? Do you not get paid enough? Your work seems simple enough although a bit menial. Nobody ever appreciates the effort I put in. Why not change your job? And why are we discussing this out here? It's horribly cold and looks to be snowing soon. I got sent on an errand to pick up some spices. Ahhh I see. Well if you are unhappy with your job.. what would  you rather be doing? My passion is painting. Painting is fun. I love doing things that express creativity. What do you like to paint? I like landscapes. Oh I mostly do abstracts myself when the time allows. Abstracts are beyond me. I never understood nondefinitive statements. 