To Whom It May Concern,

For Privileged Eyes Only,

Letos, give up your search for Ordinium, for I have found true paradise, hidden under our very noses indeed! Let me start at the beginning: I was a slave, caught up in the whims of the fool Clearfang transporting goods, not yet realizing my purpose in life. As the only literate person in my group, I was tasked with translating the oafish claims of Irwin's sellswords as they transported Swallow into East Siral.

As fate would have, I and my company were caught wayward by highwaymen, and though we fought valiantly (as you know!), we were unable to stay the ruffians.

It was then an angel appeared, clad in iron, tits the size of wagon wheels and ten feet high. She swung the mightiest and biggest warhammer I've ever seen, no doubt able to fell a Miloch with one swing, and how effortless she did it! After I gazed upon her, I could find no substitute, as no whore in any of the kingdoms of the Owm can surpass this angel.

That's right, Letos, kingdoms of Owm, I said, for she is Urven!

Too long have we thought erroneously that the dwarf-men had dwarf-women, but it seems I was wrong, and how glad I was. The dwarves, as the Ordos Canticula had lied, never lost their size and height, as they've simply gone to their women!

You must see it, we were taken in by a kind band, each man strong and sharp, muscles no thicker than ours but their arms were constructed like a good tight rope. They showed me their axes, no heavier than ours, but this was simply dwarf-men. The dwarf-lass, on a hunting trip with her uncles I was told, was shy and comely, and come hither she did, with eyes the size of feet and fingers the size of wrists. Let that sink in, my good lord Letos, have you ever tasted a woman who could crush you with a mere slip? Consider the possibilities and the thrill of it all - I loved it and nothing has felt so flavorful.

I could not resist it, no indeed. I crept, truthfully Letos, into her tent at the first sign of quiet night, and we made tender love. My hands were big, but I doubt even I could grab such fistfuls of sweet teat. And despite her size, she was as soft and tight as any tart you see in the Rows. I assume it is how God must feast, and to let His women descend onto these undeserving plains, I have a newfound faith. Leave that ageing crow and come to paradise, Letos, we have found it!

We seldom see the women because they are sorely needed, I am told. A good dwarf-woman, learns to fight and spawn, carrying a war brood of no more than a few hundred, with sons vying and competing for the honour of the rare woman with feats of grand arms and winning great fights against the rats. It is such a beautiful culture to see out here on the plains, so far away from the bickering spittles of sheep-kings or bull-lords or dog-knights or whatever compound nonsense they conjure up in Ardalsalam.

No, here, everyone is free and equal. There is no poor or rich, no murder. It is paradise.

Everyone has a purpose. Yes, sometimes it leads to foul ends; I have seen at least once or twice a poor Urven boy or two, cock as hard as his head, crushed beneath poisonous rock or impaled on thick Vermite-tail. I myself have not yet had the worry of dying horribly in the caves of the Vermite Dukedoms, but I think perhaps should they call for me, I would accept. It is a graceful and wonderful thing, I have found. After my night in heaven, nearly crushed between those thighs, I understand their drives, their desires, for I too have become Urven in all but size!

Come, Letos! Come to the Pantocracy, THIS is finally something worth fighting for!

Your trusted friend,

Mither of Ambright