A poem tacked on the boards in Greatgaunt

[Roseanna]

*on slightly weathered parchment are written the following words, tacked several places about Greatgaunt*

A man in armor doth wander into town,
who does not care about his nails and hair.
He is quite proud of his ability with his sword,
and names himself 'the Dragonslayer.'

Standing in town he seemed unyielding
with his words to maintain his reputation.
Yet for all the words exchanged
'tis quite clear his affection.

And what does he not wish for all to know?
Took some time to divulge.
He protested and complained well,
But clear was his desire's bulge.

To a man doth he wish his time to be spent
within an inn or out in the wood.
But concern over appearances
if he discloses what he should.

Anger took hold of him quite well
And threatened to find his soon-to-be wife.
For he said he needed her to care of
those who caused him strife.

The man, should you speak to him,
it would be ill-advised to succumb
To tease him upon his preferences,
the man who is called Garum.

[Levedara]

The shadows shift near one of the boards, broken speckles of light shifting as if the source of shadow was blown by a breeze. Suddenly though the edges solidify as a pair of golden wings lift up and a slender, deep cowled woman moves closer to the notice. Delicate fingers tipped in long ivory white nails that protrude from fingerless gloves slide down the side of the notice as she reads it over. Looking over her shoulder once the message is read, cat like amber eyes flash reflectively under her hood as her brow furrows.

"That's odd really. Not much sure what they're trying to say as is, but it certainly seems insulting."

Her nails flex and shred the one notice she bothered to read, an almost offhand gesture as she steps aside, patting one of the many rune embroidered bags on her hip, assessing the contents before slipping again into the shadows.