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As I write this letter I am contacting my secret network of manhunters across Calradia and your head is being wanted right now so you better prepare for the storm, goat ♥♥♥♥. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your kingdom. You’re ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ dead, lad. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare longbow. Not only am I extensively trained in archery, but I have access to the entire army of the Vaegir Kingdom and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable Kingdom of Swadia off the face of the continent, you little bootlicking wretch. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “witty” letter was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your scurly tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥♥. I will ♥♥♥♥ arrows all over you and you will be knocked unconscious by them. You’re ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ captured, whelp.

What the ♥♥♥♥ did you just ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ say about me, you ill-bred bastard? I’ll have you know I was promoted top of my legion in King Yargolek's party, I’ve been involved in numerous battles against the Swadians, and I have performed over 300 confirmed scalpations. I am trained in horse archery and I’m the top archer in the entire Vaegir Kingdom. You are nothing to me but just another looter. I will wipe you the ♥♥♥♥ out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in Calradia, mark my ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ words. You think you can get away with writing that filth to me over the courier? Think again, horeson.