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>With regard to the recent rumor in East Shoreland>Namely the appearance of a novel new Smoak>going by the gutter soubriquet of Mæthe>meaning "Craze" in Mephite Pidgin>I have extended my own inquiries>and found the claims alarmingly and excitingly true.>It is a rockform, as sugar, but ground easily and evenly as salt.>The imbibing vehicle is a short pipe with a large intaking bulb, usually clay, as its smokers are invariably poor.>The immediate effect of a single draught, not half a pinch by hand>Is invigoration, joy and strength>to which all other kinds of Smoak combined, and the sum of all consumed in one's life>are shamed to nothing>as Hag Lamelh before Hesperia.>No sooner than this heroic vigor pass that a great dryness parches the soul.>A despair at losing that godlike height and spark swallows up all peace>And a desperate recklessness overtakes one's mind.>One becomes so driven to enter again that Paradise from which the transcendent "I" was without leave or warning outcast>that no crime would be too low>nor any price beyond consideration.>My own interests in the Leaf notwithstanding, we must make every effort to secure the secret of Mæthe>and if possible to purge every memory of it from the earth.>Mæthe would be a wonder weapon against the Hoon>being indistinguishable from the substance of their own habits in its consumption.>Being introduced it would take fast hold of them in a day>They would abandon all work in pursuit of so compelling a Mistress>and quickly come to war for spoil to pay her favors.>This should be good for us, as the Hoon have proven unbreakable by all other means, and self-sufficient in food and all manner of trade.>But it will be a momentary good, for when we send in our Forces to overtake the holdings of the Hoon>our soldiers enmasse will encounter Mæthe>and in an hour turn her slaves>whence Truncheon or Decree can turn them back again.>But, crisis! How should we put it to action?>Do we publish the danger of the Drugged and inform the eager idiot masses, so that the fools of them will seek it for themselves?>Do we approach His Majesty with foretellings of danger, with the knowing risk that He will hear only opportunity?>Do we approach Vavelier of the Marqs with the problem>who is sure to have an answer to square all sides>and not know ourselves what other use he might harness Mæthe to once made aware?>oh dear friend I cannot communicate the trepidation I feel at all these prospects>for having known Mæthe intimately for but a fortnight>I no longer trust myself to be human.-Ser Bernhard "Fowl's Lips, Mare's Ass", Lord Marlbrough; Letters
