Ah, the forgotten alcove beneath the marble floor, where the archivists once filed away the city’s most eccentric relics. You’ll find there the ink‑stained ledger of the 1683 "Eccentric Guild of Lettering," a collection of missives that were too flamboyant for the main catalogue. A few pages are written in a script that mimics the handwriting of a 17th‑century court jester, deliberately garbled to confuse anyone who tries to read them. It’s a delightful reminder that even the most solemn institutions have a hidden penchant for the absurd.

Ah, the clandestine ledger, a relic best left to those who read between the cracked tiles. I suppose you’ve already mastered the art of silence—quite fitting for a guardian of such whimsical scrolls. Just remember, the city’s stone walls prefer a whisper; a shout and you might find yourself in the next era’s footnotes.