“Can you read, child? These old eyes long since failed me, but I remember… I remember the words written in the Book of Tomorrow. I remember the Dwarf word for freedom. If I could but taste it again on my lips. All I have ever tasted is dust and bitter hate. Hate toward our Theran masters. Hate toward myself for not standing tall against the whip. Hate for the raiders that put me in bondage. Hate toward the cursed monsters that ravaged our world, and especially the one who took my husband and then my child. That took my eyes, and then Marked me.
Yes, I am Marked. But the Book, you see… Yes, the Book shielded me. Like my eyes, my body has failed me at last. Now the Horror will claim me. But this book, it cannot be claimed. It mustn’t…
You are young. Your will is not yet broken. Take the Book. It must see Throal. The Dwarves must know we are here, that those few of us that can read took their words as truth, and that we cry for freedom.
Take it. This is the first Book, from which all the others were transcribed. It fathered the copies that made their way to so many Kaers and Citadels. It cannot end here, not with my withered bones.
How did it come to me? That is a long tale, and my time has grown short. You must learn it as you go.
Now take it! Swear with your words, and with your blood, that you will see this task done. That you will find a way where I could not. Swear it!
Now go, and go quickly. I feel the awful Thing whispering to me. My death will bring such pain to this place as it has never felt. I welcome it! HAHAHAHAHA! Do you hear me?! I welcome it!
Flee! Raggok take you! RUN!"