~~ To Desmond Krieger, from yer shiny Mentor ~~

[Gimbly]

Allright Desmond,

Time where ye were lazin' around is over. Ye were foolish enough tha take me as your mentor
now face the music. First of all, since ye arnt a rookie anymore after acheiving the rank of a watchman,
cant i give ye a simple task like bringing me five rotten apples from some peskey farmer or other
foolish things like that. On the other hand that task sounds like fun by speaking of:

A statue of our beloved Baron made of ONE THOUSAND apples to honor his freshness.

I nay care from were ye get em apples nor how ye make that statue but make it ..better
Of course ye have tha paint a picture of it and report me bout yer sucessfully attempt.
Ye report should include yer thoughts bout this uncommon exercise and the possible meaing of it.

Second part is much more common but needful fer yer rating.

I need a detailed list ( and painting) of yer gear to ensure ye are carrying tha right things with you .

Third part...

a report bout yer expetations havin' me as yer mentor.

 An' nay make a foolish attempt like " I want tha be a Grenadier.. lalala  "
I want tha see and read more like that banal reasons...much more..

Well thats all fer now..
Nay wait to long .. time is running *tick tick tack*
Can ye hear it ? If not clean yer eares and move yer butt.

signed
~ Gimbly , Regular Grenadier~

[Krieger]

Eyeing the notice pinned to the board, Krieger tore it off sharply and went for a seat. Shuffling uncomfortably on his stool, he lay it down on the table in front of him, stroking his beard and squinting at the words. He began to read...

"...Grah?! A statue made o' apples?! Like 'ell am I gonna get 'em to balance. And 'ow much will that cost me eh. I'm only an 'umble guard, damn ye! Hmph. At least the rest o' the tasks are simple enough. Well psht, I'm nay givin' up. 'E'll have 'is tasks done in nay time. Bloody baldy git."

Muttering away, he unclipped a heavy looking pouch jingling with coins from his belt, and left.