*the arena fanatic Earl walks up the the notice, squints... his left lower eyelid twitching a little. He spits in the bar spittoon, grimaces, and a single tear streams down his cheek. With a seemingly random and heated rage, he punches a hole in the wall and storms out into the streets, screaming...*
"AH CAN'T REEEEAAAAAD!!!"
*the local birds shoot up from the trees into the air as his voice echoes. Dwarves at the forge look up worriedly, thinking the noise some distant monster shrieking, and old frumpy peasants fling vases out their windows at him, shouting "oy! Keep it down out there! we're tryin tah sleep!"*
*He dons his black mask and runs out into the wilderness to vent his illiterate rage on the local bandit gangs. Trackers note that the bodies left in his wake are slashed in crude characters faintly resembling letters in the common language*
//heheh, a little early on a work day for me to show up, but if you ever throw such an event around 7pm-12am est, or 12pm-3am weekends, I'd be happy to join
