Torundel said the name. ‘Uranumsia!’

Etiquette dictated that it was indecent to use a woman's name. Grandmother, daughter, bakery girl, that was how you addressed females. Even his wife he solely called wife – as was proper. But the stanzas this girl could write were astonishing, beautiful, and on top of that she had taught him about the third hole. So he had begun to fell an improper friendliness for her, and he had asked her her name which she had given him in a shy whisper.

He went over the shitpost letter one last time. Only one word was his own. The rest was the work of Uranumsia. And what work! Better than Sang Utor, maybe equal to Sang Hortuscany. A cough interrupted his thoughts.

The man from the netherworld guild was nervous. He wanted to get out of this fine house and into the dirty streets where he belonged.

‘So… I'm to deliver it in person under protection of the anon rules of the guild? I never heard of such rules.’

‘Yes, no message, just the letter. The anon rules exist, but they are old. I can show them to you if you like.’

‘I believe you, sir – and to whom shall I deliver it?’

Torundel said the name.

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Torundel the Shitposter! part VI

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