A rather crumpled piece of paper is tacked to the bulletin board at some point in the night. The ink is a bold red, and the handwriting looks pretty crazy, like the author had his whole fist wrapped around the quill.

Slaves are people; slavers aren't.
LIBERATION

While the handwriting is odd and messy, the drawing is painfully detailed and neat, though it is a simple image of a broken slave collar. At a distance, it looks like a nearly closed upper-case 'C' whose opening has been tilted upwards thirty degrees.

Sometimes Lydia passed by the bulletin on her way to work, sometimes she didn't - today was one of those days that she did. Usually she never lingered long in front of it or did much in the way of reading, a good deal of the posts and news upon the board was always sad. Missing people and loved ones, updates in latest murders and killing sprees... However the passing glance she gave the board as she passed by caused her to pause, as certain words on one note caught her eye. Slaves. Slavers. Liberation...

Steps ceased entirely as she turned to regard it a bit more carefully, as well as the drawing upon it. Lips pursed thoughtfully as her mind wandered to those she knew involved in such things. Putting up things like this.. it simply wasn't how they operated. They were more secretive and hush hush about what they did. And the words... slavers weren't people as well? Was this someone who handled them a little more violently in their cause?

Lydia sighed, unsure of how she felt about the posting. Perhaps time would tell if it was a good thing or not. She glanced over it one last time before turning to hurry off to work. She couldn't be late today.