Ovid,

I just finished reading your most recent novel entitled "PUBLIC NEWS
#18366 SUBJ: Qashiram Declaration". As a literary critic myself, I revel
in taking on new material and providing constructive insights as to how
both aspiring and seasoned writers can better themselves. My first
criticism of your novel was fairly immediate upon opening (I hope it
isn't too scathing). "PUBLIC NEWS #18366 SUBJ: Qashiram Declaration"
seems far too cryptic of a title for your everyday reader, though I do
appreciate the poetic language. Also, a novel about Hashan's history
should have Hashan somewhere in the title and I doubt the public news
board is an appropriate venue to publish such a work. You may desire to
look elsewhere (for example, another world outside of Sapience that
would give a storm bull's fecal remnant about your thoughts on Hashan,
though, I admit your thoughts would be a hard sell even for that
amount).

Anyways, on page 37 between the part where you said "I raided Hashan"
and after the other part where you said "I raided Hashan" (but not quite
to chapter 4 entitled "I raided Hashan"), I had a revelation that I
absolutely must share. Like many others I questioned why, after you
asserted that you raided Hashan, you explained doing so almost
exclusively in two themes of imagery; physiological and oceanic. The
first type of imagery I'm not interested in, such as the parts where you
inspect the Hashani sailor boys' "meat" (Ovid p.37) on their rafts,
"fill their pipes" (Ovid p.271), and "prop on them at your city gates --
and on their skins" (Ovid p.13,896). Nay, its the oceanic imagery I'm
interested in and now I share my revelation with you Sapience in the
following anecdote.

I was leafing through some old manuscripts of battle with Shallam that I
logged when I came across a truly telling piece, Ovid's description.
What does this have to do with his Hashani history novel hes written?
Consider this -exact- copy from my logs of Ovid's description as a
troll: "...his outer carapace is a soft pinkish hue with marbled white
blotches every few inches, broken into several plates that curve along
his back and up his head. His eyes are deep jet-black and bulge from the
sides of head like plums and a sharp cartilaginous spine protrudes from
the back lobe of his tiny insectoid brain". This is when it hit me Ovid!
The oceanic imagery, the pinkish blotched pattern on your carapace: you
are actually not a troll at all, you are a shrimp!

This explains everything. The gaping self-esteem issues taken out on
innocent non-combatants after years of being tormented in the seas by
even the most harmless fish, the fierce guarding of Nirvana against
intruders (Shrimps are very territorial Jirken tells me), and only
traveling, eating, sleeping, drinking, playing, writing, humming, etc.
in huge groups (schools?!) of ten or more! Lets cut to the chase Ovid.
You were teased underneath the high seas by bigger fish, you're laughed
at on land as a petty and childish bully, and you wear a Troll's
disguise to get by. Search greener pastures (or kelp fields?) where you
will be accepted by other tormented, dejected, and unloved figures that
you can empathize with. While you absolutely are the one and only
adventurer whose found the key to the great riddle of how to raid Hashan
effectively (and we all commend you on this, good job Ovid!), wouldn't
you rather take the high road? And by the high road I mean summoning all
the great cities of Sapience, letting us burn you at the stake, and
feeding on your soft, succulent flesh with a bit of melted garlic
butter! Imagine it Sapience, we could all be saying That's Qashari grade
shrimp, baby! Hey This doesnt taste like shrimp, it tastes more like a
piece of shi

-Malifuus



Penned by my hand on the 21st of Valnuary, in the year 529 AF.