[@Dartbored Fairy]

[center][color=000000][b][h1]Madison[/h1][/b][/color][/center]

	Madison doesn't take kindly to threats, any at all, and ones made by those unwilling to make themselves known annoyed her on an even deeper level. She considered those types of people cowards, too scared to show their face and confront her in person. 

As a display of her disdain, she cocks her body to one side in order to release a loud fart as the envelope crumbles to dust like an ancient scroll exposed to the air for the first time in centuries, which is actually something she doesn't care about in the slightest. She'd encountered all manner of witchcraft in her life. It didn't intimidate her in the slightest. She crumples up the teller and shoves in her mouth, chewing it like a tasty cut of meat as she chuckles at a memory of the time she killed a witch by sitting on her head and suffocated her. Her chuckling intensified as she recollected how the witch finally stopped struggling, going limp, then soiled her pants as her bowels became incontinent due to death.  

Once the letter was well and truly masticated, she spat it out across the room. The saliva-softened clomp of paper made a loud plop sound as it stuck to a support beam next to another customers table. 

With this sort of behaviour she knew it wouldn't be long before she was asked to leave, and she could do without any more attention being drawn to herself. She had gold to find, and she preferred to do that in peace without too many prying eyes watching on. As for the prying eyes of the witch, or whoever else it might have been that sent her the letter, Madison felt a little excited over the anticipation of defying their request, in the hopes of one day meeting them. At which time it would be her filthy pleasure to show them exactly what she thinks about them. 

She rises from her table, swallows back the last of her drink, and leaves a few coins on the table – no tip – then heads out the door. 

 [hr]

[@Metatrooper][@Prima Luce]

[center][b][color=00ced1][h1]Boris[/h1][/color][/b][/center]

	“Gosh! You sure are nice for a jailbird.” Boris tells Kaldalis, much obliged for helping him find the right key. “We sure can talk about you leaving this place after I teach this bad man a lesson.” He adds while slipping the key into the hole.

The cell is opened. 

Boris steps inside, his baby face hard as stone while taking strides towards Ovarin, who at this time is ending his hard to understand speech by calling Boris Stupid many times over. That part Boris could understand very easily. He’d been called stupid a lot by lots of people in his life, and that was one thing he didn’t like [i]at all[/i]! 

Boris stops just a few feet from the disgusting little man, his chest swelling like a barrel about to explode as his face goes red with rage. 

“DON’T YOU CALL ME STUPID LIKE THAT!” He yells at the man, and without a seconds delay he lashes out with one heavy fist. The punch would be powerful enough to shatter any bones in the old man’s face and sending against the wall like a ragdoll. While Ovarin is probably falling to the floor in pain, Boris draws Revel Yell from the straps on his back, raising it above his head as he hears the ghostly voice of Sara Stones mother fill the room. The cold of her voice sends a shiver up Boris’s spine, but Boris didn’t need convincing, his passion for helping the little invisible miss had already made up his mind. 

Without even a second thought, Boris brings the massive Dragonbone club down on Ovarin. The old man’s head pops like an overripe melon, spraying blood, bone and brain all over the cell. As this happens, Revel Yell glows a vibrant turquois hue while releasing a Dragons cry of rage that shakes the cell block, all of this in unison with the sound of Boris’s voice calling out in his own passionate rage.  

Boris peers down at the mess he had made before returning the weapon to his back. He then stoops low, hands on his knees to raise his voice at Ovarin again, as if yelling would help a dead man hear what he had to say – 

“That will teach you for picking on little girls like that!” 

Boris’s rage hadn’t ended just yet, though. Overwhelmed with anger he drops down next to the body and bites off all four fingers from one hand of the corpse. He then gets back up on his feet, chewing as he starts to relax, as if the taste of his victim was soothing him like a nice, warm home cooked meal. The sound of bones being crushed by his teeth is heard as he turns his blood spattered face to Kaldalis, at which point Boris also notices the ghost of Sara Stone standing next to the prisoner. 

Knowing it was rude to speak with your mouth full, Boris grounds down the fingers for a time before suddenly stopping, like he may have bitten into something distasteful. His face winces as he then digs around in his mouth and eventually pulls out the ring that Ovarin had been wearing. After finally swallowing, Boris The Bonecrusher holds up the ring between his finger and thumb to show it to Kaldalis and the Ghost of Sara Stone. 

“I think Boris is going to keep this.” He says, as a grateful smile develops. “It sure is a nice ring.” 

Boris then wipes his mouth with his forearm while slipping the ring in his pocket with his other hand. 

“You sure do seem nice…” Boris says to Kaldalis while quickly glancing at Sara. “And it sure does look like the little miss likes you too. So if you can give Boris a really, really, [i]really[/i] good reason, I’ll just let you out of your jail cell, Mr. Tin Man. Anyway, the guards here like Boris a lot, and Boris doesn’t even know why, so it should be okay with them as well I thinks.”

Boris then looks at the ghost and snickers, saying; “I don’t think you should stay in here, little miss, jail isn’t a good place for a nice person like you.” 

Boris then glances around curiously at the frosted iron bars and walls of the cell block before returning a stare to Kaldalis, waiting for the Tin Man to give a really good reason to set him free.