'So, another Southron comes to trouble us. Well, we are not like those who crawl before the Iron Crown, and we still hallow the guest-law. So... be welcome.

'You will not find much love amongst us for your kind, stranger. We listened to the Southron Golodir and stood against the Iron Crown, but now that he has abandoned us, we are on our last leg. The other clans have joined against us, and only the last frail vestiges of the Treaty of the Hills protects us from war. Soon enough, though, we will fall, one way or the other.

'Oh, you wish to hear more of our troubles? I have no breath to repeat the tale of woe. Ask the Lore-singer, Arzhur, if you must know the long, sad story. He is near the tents to the north.'