*in stomps Betty hands on hip & no very chuffed at all*
Here wiz I, ootisde the barraks during the wee smaa hours (I couldna sleep after yon dungeon games, yon undead things just fair skirrled me* learning a few new tunes on my harp and admiring the wee flo'ors, fan this soldier called Mor'tar comes alang and starts tae natter tae me.
He ca'ad me a recruit so I got a bit worried in case i'd been playing songs too loud & woken him up. Bit NO, He didnae wint tae moan at me, it wis me gold he wis needin to get his hands on. Hand it o'or he says n yer valuables too. Honestly, can he no mind being a Cr'uit himself and mind on how little a bob a fee'in bein a cr'uit pay's. So I hands oer fits left oh the gold I teen huntin doon thon lizard things the ither night (he maby got enough to buy an ale if he wiz lucky) and then he his me shuttin my een and birlin roon till i wiz fair dizzy & feelin nae weel ivva.
Is if that wisnae enough, he hands me this hat... ( nae a bonny thing that I might wint tae pit on my heed fan im gan ooot either), and tells me tae mine on his name... The Hat...
I tell yea, there's 2 or 3 things I'd like tae dae tae this soldier if ever he gets caught, an the first aine is tae tak him tae find somebody wha can make decent hats ! His is ma're oh an insult than hae'in my gold robbed.
Betty stomps oot mutterin under her breath "the hat... you'd think he'd come up wee summit better than thon fer a name too, mind you, he wiz affa bonnny lookin we a fine pair oh legs and a really nice, errr he looked good in yon kilt"