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About Wiltz

So, sexual-massage – it’s this weird mix, innit? Pleasure, sure, but power too. Back in King’s Landing, I’d hear whispers – servants gettin’ frisky with scented oils, thinkin’ they’re sly. Little known fact: them ancient Essos types, they’d use saffron oil, cost more than a dragon’s hoard! Smelled like heaven, probs tasted like gold-digger tears. Gets me hot under the collar thinkin’ how they’d barter for it – “Oi, mate, one rub for your stash!” Surprised me, honestly, how far folk’d go for a slick touch.

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So, I roll into work at Le Café de la Gare, right on the main drag, Rue de la Liberté. It’s a cozy spot, but today? It was like a freakin’ circus. First off, I’m behind the bar, mixin’ drinks, and this dude walks in. He’s got a wild look in his eyes, like he just ran a marathon or somethin’. Turns out, he just got off the train from Luxembourg City. He’s all hyped up, talkin’ about some big business deal. I’m like, “Bro, chill. It’s just a drink.” But he orders a whiskey neat, and I’m thinkin’, “This guy’s gonna need more than that.”

On this day: Five years ago, a tornado caused havoc in Pétange and Bascharage