For too long I have held my tongue. Driven from my village through the schemes of Hashani meddling, I bore my exile in silence. Many of you do not know me and, truth be told, I preferred it so. I never sought renown, never craved recognition. All I ever desired was the well-being of my people, even as Hashan turned them against me. Long ago, I fled Tasur'ke and have not set foot upon its shores since, wandering instead from place to place, taking whatever work denizens would grant.


Adventurers are notoriously ruthless, but none prove more treacherous than those who call Hashan home. A Mhaldorian will at least meet you in battle with open enmity; a Hashani will clasp your hand in friendship, only to slide the blade between your ribs the moment you turn away.


To my kin in Tasur'ke, hear me: you have been deceived. Manipulated. Bent to another's will. Many of you still brand me a traitor, an insurrectionist, and the weight of that judgment gnaws at my soul, for all I ever sought was your flourishing. Yet you need not grant me trust to take heed of my words: guard yourselves. Measure the speech of the Hashani with suspicion. Accept nothing at its surface. Hold fast to your dignity, and know your worth apart from their honeyed promises, for now they deign to control those who may enter your village, it won't be long before they control who can leave, or what words may be spoken. Long have I warned you of their overreach and they grow ever-bolder with their grasp.


Take care,
Thelrey

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Valnuary, in the year 986 AF.