[!] A letter written in her own Blood.

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[!] A missive would be scribbled with the handwriting of Sallare in blood, presumably one of fast writing.

Greetings, citizens of Enarion,

My name is Sallare Mimir, a former resident of Aellen. I write this missive to denounce the elven scum of Aellen, and display my regret for even living amongst them. The foolish Queen of Aellen has insulted the King of Myrefeld, and for this reason, the entire populace of Aellen deserves to be massacred.

From this day on, I renounce any affiliation with Aellen, as a humble citizen. I beg King Myrefeld for forgiveness, in hopes I can reside in the true, greatest kingdom of Man: Calendale.

Signed,
A regretful citizen,

Sallare Mímir.
 
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Sukitoru

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A woman finds the missive, folds it up, and writes 'RETURN TO SENDER' on it's face. They would soon deliver it to their local Herald.
 
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"Aw"
Aaron didn't care much, he just walked away, shrugging the entire message off
 
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The Ranger wonders who is this new King of Myrefeld,but also who are the Myrefeld.
 
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Viggo takes a look at the missive, shrugging letting out a raspy laugh. "Illiterate and dull. It seems like whoever this person be, they never 'ave spent time within a city 'te learn how 'te write. Ironic really, da my love?" He half-joked towards his fiancé.
 

Cardiovascular

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Gorafo would spot the missive while out on one of his many walks about Enarion's northern reaches. Drawing near he plucked the parchment from where it was pinned and brought it to his nose for an inquisitive sniff.

"Best not to write a public missive in blood," he remarked. "Some vampire will lick your ink right off the page." He crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby stream before continuing on his way, humming the melody to an old Dewi ballad about an exceptionally buff maiden.

"With arms as thick as the tree was round, she pulled that tree right from the ground..." he could be heard singing to himself before he crested the nearest hill and was gone.
 

ephi

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Viggo takes a look at the missive, shrugging letting out a raspy laugh. "Illiterate and dull. It seems like whoever this person be, they never 'ave spent time within a city 'te learn how 'te write. Ironic really, da my love?" He half-joked towards his fiancé.
Letting out a soft laugh, Marsaili Ròsach tosses such aside. “Ja, it seems t’be t’aht way… but they sure ain’t learnin’ in Calendale. Though… it’d be rather comical t’see them try…”
 
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The tavernkeep, Cain, took a long, pitiful laugh at the letter, flouncing it around to all in the tavern as she beckoned and wooed all to join her in the mockery. In her drunken state of humour, she wrote her own letter, written in wine as the professor spoke:

"Sallare,


You were as memorable a citizen as you were a girlfriend side-play to some tavernkeep, and whilst i will not miss your utter weakness of spirit, i will miss the time you stabbed yourself in my tavern because you were of such little banter and human quality that you were replaced. Do send my apologies to your new 'King', as if he do wish to have you, I am admired by his charity,

Step foot not near me, tarblooded thing, and good riddance to the creature you hath rid within you that fine day

C."

The tavernkeep and her crowd of merry friends would flaunt the letter, too giddy in their drinks to consider such hostilities, as at least now she was sheltered by a mask.
 

Kokushibo

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Alvyn is shocked, upset and angered, taking the paper as he reads it
"What's with people writing things in their own blood?! The color it leaves..."
He imagined Sallare quite literally making a scar on their wrist, hurting themselves and putting a feather pen into their wound to write the damn thing all over Enarion.
"Waste of blood and paper! I must put a notice on my Tavern's board I am tired of seeing this ugly brown, stinking color on my Board! Zero!"
 

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