Clad in once-shiny metal armor - rich in history written in the language of scratches, dents and darkened sanguine stains, a diaboli cautiously approached the message board. He removed his helmet and shook his shoulder length, knotted dreadlocks free - letting fresh air in to cool his scalp and his own natural bodily odor out. Looking at the board, he began to examine the previously posted notes - causing alternating hints of amusement and disgust to dance upon his face.
Eyes rolled from side to side, lips stretched unevenly across his cheeks - inhibited by a deep scar that stretched from the corner of his mouth to his ear. He quickly tore away a few recent notes and dropped them upon the ground - mashing them into the mud with the dented toe of his battered boot and a twist of the hip followed by a wad of spit.
From a rough burlap sack, he withdrew a small, carefully written scroll - the handwriting elegant and sleek unlike his own; reeking slightly of lavender and starphire. With a few crude tacks, he stuck it up - leaning on the thumb of his injured sword hand as he pressed each tack in. Reading it over again, he muttered as he read the words:
"In need of custom made trapping and confinement supplies. I need someone who can make cages for containing untamed animals of various sizes, shackles and collars that lock in place, lengths of steel chain barbed with spikes - long and sharp enough to pierce the toughest and thickest of skin, and a host of other devices which employ screws, hinges, blades, springs and other such parts. I'll elaborate with the right person. "
He winced. Something was missing, but what? He drew from his sack a quill and scribbled on the bottom of the scroll in a style of lettering that mostly resembled the former - but not quite:
"I tend to travel quite a bit and can be hard to find. Attach a note with your name and information on where I can find you, and I'll find you."
Having torn and discarded a few more notes for good measure, he reached for the one that mentioned a ball, then stopped himself and walked away - leaving it intact. Slowly the light clanking and squeaking of his armor faded to silence as did his litany of mumbled gripes and swears.