Truthman bid me put quill to parchment on this. It ain't my say, really, not one way or another, but with thousands of my Trollkin either under the Steelhew's yoke, or fleeing from it, or sheltering their families, I think a few things gotta be said.

Hashan's done for. It ain't never gonna be the same. I know for centuries the Trolls dwelled there, our ruler dwelled there, and that was always a fact. Well, it ain't no more. The royal line's done, Juxa Steelhew's just a pawn of the Blade, and once she's done for there ain't nothing left for any of us. The age of Troll rulers is gone. Cast to the winds like ashes.

Some of you went to Spinesreach. Some of you went to Tasur'ke. Some of you? Still serve Juxa. Some of you went to Duiran, or Enorian, or any of the villages there, yon, or in between. No matter what you done? It's alright. You're alright. It's gonna be alright eventually. Know why? I believe being a Troll goes deeper than that kind of fighting. I believe we all want the best for our kin, our race, our people. We all want us to survive. I know that what Steelhew's promising sounds like a darn good deal. On the face of it, sure. We ain't exactly been on top for a while now, and she's giving us the chance to get our own back.

That ain't the right way, though. That's just the easy one.

You gotta do a few things. First, remember that even if They disagree, the Troll Gods are there and They hear prayer. The Truthman's mine, but if the Stormgod's your preference, then pray to Him. Either way, you stay a Troll. You're still a Troll no matter what. Look to your elders - they know what's to be done, they'll help you keep a hold on who you are. Don't reincarnate. Be proud of your height. Your size. Your skin, no matter how strange it looks to anyone else. We Trolls take up space. We take up a darn lot of space. We're strong, we're tough, and no matter how you cut us we heal back in no time. We're made to survive anything, and we will.

Any of you come south to the temple of the Truthman, I got tea and bread and I can show you the way to the Orcs and Ogres. They've been helping men, women, and children like you get settled. Anywhere else you wanna go, I can't recommend nor speak to, but you're gonna survive, you're gonna be fine. Even though Hashan's gone. Even though our rulers are gone. Even though a whole lot has just changed.

You're all still Trolls. Hold onto that.

My love to all of my lost kin,
Hayim, Priest of the Unbound

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Niuran, in the year 414 MA.