My Dearest Lirelle,
I love you! You were right, and I was the fool. I shall pay for my folly with my life. I'm by turns furious and in the deepest despair, for not only will we not survive this darkest night, but we never found any hint of prior habitation in these hills, let alone "streams glittering with gems." A blacksmith's wage now seems like profligate wealth, as you told me again and again. Now it is too late, too late even for regret.
They are hunting us. They never sleep, they never rest. They are faster than wild animals, vicious as the wolverine. And cruel too. They make cats look merciful. They stopped just now to eat poor Weltner while we fled up the defile as far as we could go without ropes or gear.
Tell Tische they fight like demons. We put six on one of the pale blue bastards and couldn't even land a blow. Tell Tische to have plenty of spears so they can get more points to bear. You have to finish them or they just keep getting back up.
I can only rest a few minutes, then I have to try and fortify with the others. I'll leave instructions on the rock to this letter. They can't read Palaji.
Forever,
Your Polle
