On this day however, Serrus Belcaw has diverted from his usual trip through town to pen a letter to the Lady Warden. The letters are surprisingly neat and cursive, not the usual letter one might find from a knave and ner'do'well, save for the impromptu language and commentary. He leaves the letter with her attendee, the stout dwarf short a few feet and even shorter of a few words.
Your Ladyship,
I'm not one to usually complain under such good conditions and financial remunerations, but to be frank, the baker you got out in the kitchens makes worse shite than an old hag in a brothel. I've tasted puddings out of dung heaps in the Grange that taste better than his, and that's no mean exaggeration, it's a matter of fact, coming from one who's actually slept aside dung heaps in the past.
There's some simpleton bint a nice red-haired lass who's stayin' in the Broken Dagger for a time. I haven't had the opportunity to try her pastry, but couple blokes I spoke to said her cooking was rather good, which sounds a bloody far cry from the one we got at the moment. Your soldiers have been miserable enough with these rains, having to not hear them whine about the baker day in and day out might do us all some bloody good.
I told the lass you might be interested in her services, she might have sought you out herself, if not, the lass' name is Genny.
S.B.