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NOTE FROM THE IMPERIAL LIBRARIAN OF TOL HONETH: This peculiar piece was produced by a melancholy monk at Mar-Terin in the late 27th century. Though he steadfastly maintained until his death that these were the actual words of the grieving God, Mara, it is easily evident that this mournful work is rather the product of a mind diseased by solitude, racial guilt and the continual wail of the wind in the barren trees near the monastery.

The unfortunate history of the destruction of Maragor and the extermination of its people is a moral burden which the Tolnedran Empire must bear. We must not, however, lapse into hysteria as a result of our sense of guilt. Rather we must resolve never again to turn to such savagery in our quest for advantage and profit.

Truly, the spirit of the God Mara stands as a continual remonstrance to us_; and, balanced against the proverbs of our own beloved Nedra, provides every decent and right-thinking Tolnedran with those bounds against which he may measure his conduct.

EEEE – AAAAY! EEEE – AAAAY!

Oh Weep for Mara whose people are no more.

Sorrow,

Sorrow,

Grief and Woe

The people are destroyed, the elders and the children.

The men are cut down, and the women, fountainhead of race and blood and kind

are slain.

The people of Mara are no more.

EEEE-AAAAY!

EEEE-AAAAY!

Sorrow

and

Sorrow

The people of Mara are no more. Cursed then is the land.

Betrayed am I by my brothers.

Betrayed land of the Marags shall be forever

Accursed. My hand shall be raised against it. No fruit shall it bear to outlanders.

No rest or sleep shall they find there.

Madness only shall they reap

among my empty cities.

And I will raise an army of the dead

against all who come into this land. Blood and death to all who profane my sacred altars.

EEEE – AAAAY!

EEEE – AAAAY! Sorrow!

Sorrow!

Sorrow! O, weep for Mara, whose people are no more.^*