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To the citizens of the great city of Troll's Bane,
On this day, I Derek Corydon, Overseer of Troll's Bane, under my authority appoint Bailey Thunnigan as the Captian of the Guard of Troll's Bane. All former guards as well as new recruits are to report directly to her, although I myself will still remain personally involved with the guard.
Anyone seeking Honour, Adventure, and Prestige may seek out Captian Bailey Thunnigan and join up as a recruit.

By order of,
Derek Corydon, Overseer of Troll's Bane

Hur hur, does town guard captain change every day? Why can't one guard stay as captain for awhile? And shouldn't dere be a strong hooman in charge of town guard? Humm

As you are no citizen of Trolls Bane I wonder why it concerns you.
Secondly, it sounds to me like a challenge to a duel. Tell me your name and meet me up in town.

Bailey Thunnigan



((Edit: spelling))

After some hours analyzing both the document written above Bailey's and some writtings from an interesting orc the Nomad checked, he decided to tranform both in one. In truth, they could be the same, but alas, they could be not - it didn't matter, really. But the oportunities were certainly grand... for a test.
He studied and knew a bit of orc culture - or what they called culture - by overseeing and overhearing by only walking nearby their cave, from a secure distance, of course, but it was enough for him to fake his voice. He wanted to see if he could fake his handwritting as well.


Yoo want troubla, yoo gets. Meh broders be der in yoos town, ten.
Yoo goin' ta eat yoos words, captain.

Chief Gabon


There. It was done. If the rats would bite the cheese, good, he passed this test; if not, well, so be it. The Nomad couldn't care less. He made sure he was alone, he pinned the new letter to the wall and smirked at his work, every detail: how he got his gloves dirt before writting in the old yellow paper - the dirt because it was an orc, the glove because it was an orc hand, and if an expert could find out, well, the orc was wearing a glove. Simple. But what he was really fond about his work were the teared borders of the paper, easily made by throwing small rocks, to create the illusion of something that happened randomly.
The Nomad left the city and waited for the results of his test.

As Bailey checks up the town board again her eyes falls upon the new note. She raises an eyebrow and strokes thoughtfully over her chin. The note appears to be typical orcish. After some moments she writes a reply underneath.


Whichever orc has abused Gabons name, may know that the chief knows about honour. He would not reply to a friendly duel with a threat.

Bailey Thunnigan

My sword belongs to Bailey. Let not a hair on her head be found sliced; that is the road to pain.

-Z

Hur hur, me already duel you, Bailey, and wins.

~Wiergraf

Congrats on your new position Bailey,
lets hope you stay gaurd for a long time... either way... I would like to duel you if you saw fit to make an opening in your schedule.

~Rand Kalan Al'Vega-