Dear Arturo,

There is little that I can tell you about the other visitors to Geldorad that I have not told you before. You know their names, their homelands, and the fates. Few came to any good end. Even the ones who managed to adapt and survive did so by forgetting their old lives, at which pointed they were of little interest to chroniclers and scholars.

Our attention was rarely turned to your world. When it was, the nobles and priests steered their people’s minds homeward. I do not like to defend the nobles and priests but in this particular case I believe they acted rightly. Strangers always brought trouble to Geldorad, yourself included (albeit with a worthy outcome but that was an exception.)

To illustrate our attitude, you may wish to read the following sermon. Neither of us especially love the genre but this one spread far in its day and it is informative.

Lightworthy brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of the great founders of old, heirs and stewards of the land in which the Lord of Light wrought ancient victory against the Shadow God, to you who have such profound calling we ask: Why do you let vain opinions on the Forbidden Beyond divide you?

It is a strange wonder that men may inhabit those undiscovered frontiers but of what consequence is that to you who embody Leyk’s purposes here, at the heart of the world? It is surely no cause for strife between the steadfast. If you have doubts, learn the character of those who wandered here from afar and you will know that no land is worthy of your fascination which produces such wayward and loreless people.

At the close of the unwritten years there came to us Odoric of Cattlestead. He arrived from the hills above Terrodrad and was hailed a champion. He knew nothing of our home but he spoke in a tongue not unlike ours and many began to bend their speech to his. He told our forefathers of battles fought against his foes, the Venerdians – a ruthless and vile tribe by his reckoning. He taught us to fight bravely against wealdwights and nightshadows but taught us also to fight against each other.

The games and contests he hosted fostered rivalry and bitterness between those who should have lived in peace. He turned neighbours into enemies and friends into foes. Moreover he gathered to himself a greater host of women than is prudent. His women grew jealous of each other and when he could not control their jealousy he treated them harshly. He tried at last to overthrow the mayor and rule the city according to his will alone but at last was slain by one of his wives. Daranth the Peacemaker’s love was only slightly less than her wisdom and seeing the pain that her lord wrought she slew him. She sacrificed her very life in doing so, as she knew the others would take revenge on her.

Odoric lived among us thirty bloody years. Five years after his death there came to the borders of Soowell one Aleytham of Fledgling. He was unwelcome to us and less welcome when he confessed to be of the Venerdian race which Odoric had so slandered. But even in his prison cell, Aleytham charted what stars he could espy through the window and etched them on his wall. He spoke to his wardens with great wisdom. He was made chief scholar to the reeve of Soowell and contributed much to our learning.

Now, as you know, though Aleytham came after Odoric he claimed to be from a time before Odoric. We know this excites many of your debates but do not lose sight of what matters to us. Though he was great among the strangers from the Forbidden Beyond, those who came after were worse.

When Aleytham had been among us but five years there came to the borders of Hennavale one who named himself Neeman of Nowhere. He did nothing wrong and nothing right. He kept to himself. He claimed no kinship with Aleytham and wished never to speak to him. Neeman was a fearful soul and all who met him found him disquieting and uneasy. No one knows what end he met but after three years had passed he was spoken of no more.

Toward the end of Aleytham’s tenth and final year, those living on the shores of the city welcomed Arabella of Middlestrait who was of the race of Odoric. They had heard of Aleytham’s wisdom and hoped that Arabella would equally as great. But she would only persuade the dock-dwellers to shed their goodly natures and be moulded in the likeness of fish in the same manner that the woodsmen mould themselves in the likenesses of trees and animals. Her devastation never ended, for many among the wise claim that it was Arabella of Middlestrait who either created or became the Great Eel of the Swallowing Sea.

Heaven spared our forefathers for a time afterwards and none came from the Forbidden Beyond until forty-eight years had passed. That generation was wise and cautious when the next strangers came. That caution served them well. None were good, even those of Aleytham’s kin.

So, Lightworthy brothers and sisters, you who forge maps of the undiscoverable country, you who debate calendars and chronicles, you who try to understand their kindreds and creeds – take heed! It is the land of Geldorad in which heaven placed you, not the land of fable and conjecture whose citizens are traitors and troublemakers. Let us be faithful servants of Leyk in the land he entrusted to us and guard against wickedness from without and from within.

So Arturo, that may help explain the manner in which you were received into our city. Fascination and fame may come with being an outsider but so do infamy and suspicion.

However, though strangers from the world beyond often caused trouble, I believe they may not have meant to.

I once came across a transcribed note supposed to have been written by Odoric of Cattlestead himself. I cannot confirm its authenticity but the awful quality of the writing lends it some plausibility. After cleaning it up considerably, I rendered it in the following manner:

these people are turning into a problem. i found this place when we were headed through the mountains. the people here told me i couldnt leave. tried anyway. turns out they were right but they liked how i fought and made me train them. turns out they like stories, the kind the others told me about battles in the south.

i remember that old trader from down south. the one that brought gems and spices. he was never anything like the southerners in the stories.

i taught them the lance game and at first it was a good diversion for me and for them but they taught it to the next town over and got mad. when they win they have no honour and when they lose they get mad. i tried stopping them and putting an end to it. i got angry and may have hit one of them from the other town. now the people here think thats how its done. i made a mistake.

soon i’ll make a trip to the city to the north. theres a mayor there who might be able to put a stop to all this but the trip will be hard because theres all these girls who follow me everywhere i go. they watch me even at night. its getting harder to sleep. one of them is easier to talk to. she tells me to my face when she doesnt like what im doing. never thought that would be so refreshing.

i miss that old southerner. i think about him whenever i hear the people here telling my stories again. he had a lot of nonsense ideas but he was good to talk to. he could tell me how cattlesteads doing maybe.

next week ill go into the city and try talking to that mayor. i hope the people leave me alone. i want to go in quietly and make sure no one follows me. these people are a real problem.

So perhaps our chroniclers erred in paying so little attention to visitors from the forbidden beyond. Perhaps they misjudged them. But in the chroniclers’ defense they often had more pressing demands on their time. Survival alone was never easy here. You know that as well as we do.

I hope I can be more helpful with whatever questions you have in the future. There is always more to be learned about Geldorad but some things we may never find out for sure.

Wishing you peace and health,

Sidwid Hull.