*Eventually a certain dashing figure comes across this reply and after cursing tears it down, takes it out of town, tosses it into a lake or ocean and fireballs the note.*
*Mutters darkly.* Benevolent Lord Rael my fine backside! More like slave trading *more curses.* Year imprsionment?! Last time I checked Wayfare wasn't Prantz.
*Tosses another fireball at the spot where the note was, then regains some composure and heads on his way.*