[A notice would be found pinned across notice boards in Old Town by individuals dressed head to toe in what could only be described as armoured clown costumes.]
[The paper would be kept in nigh-pristine condition, minus a few creases obtained during transmit. Each wore a wax seal, bearing the face of a laughing jester. The calligraphy was elegant and fine, yet the blank space surrounding the text was filled with images of religion, death, life and all-sorts. They seemed to be the etchings of a madman.]
Citizens of Old Town! Greetings and salutations! We've been watching the chaos closely from afar, and have finally decided to take the Stage of Fate with our Dance of Death. The time has come for salvation to fall upon the people once more. Pay close attention for the opening night of the Carnival Phantasm, when I'm sure you will all get to know us well.
[The paper would be kept in nigh-pristine condition, minus a few creases obtained during transmit. Each wore a wax seal, bearing the face of a laughing jester. The calligraphy was elegant and fine, yet the blank space surrounding the text was filled with images of religion, death, life and all-sorts. They seemed to be the etchings of a madman.]
Humblest of regards,
[The signature would be inscribed in a far more rushed looking cursive, in a red ink. Could this be blood maybe? Under this messy splodge, the text would continue, sprawling off into illegible scribbles. Further below rests a drawing of a sinister clown mask (see image below), with nails placed where eyes should be, similar to that found on the wax seal]
