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The Harangue of the Largest of the Fomor Laugh! Laugh, brothers, for we are defeated! Sup of this bitter feast, for there is more than enough for all! We are laid low by the upstart conceits! We fought them, they and their little flights of fancy, from the moment of their conception when they scurried from the sheltering darkness. Whenever we could find them we squeezed their minions to jelly, we crunched their bones, we expunged their cries! But brothers, there were more and more, as if springing from nothing. We could not find their source nor harm their lords. So laugh! Ever and ever their rules, their laws, their order, their rede expanded. The sheltering darkness is swept away, brothers. No longer our heights unseen and looming. No longer our forms unglimpsed and beautiful. We are measured! We still dwarf their tiny thewes but even that is a limit. If we are ten times their size, then they have but to gather ten of their kind to hurl at us. And that they did. To the field we were brought and there we stomped and raged. Spears were shivered! Swords broken! Mail split! Brothers! I saw each of you there, each and tenfold more. You! You were a tower a thousand could not surmount. And you! You were a storm to lay a thousand low. But there were thousands more and we found we were fewer. When their lords sallied forth we were spent. We saw them and finally understood their splendor, brothers. Their strength is in understanding and all our clubs and spears could not batter it aside. We know them, brothers! And in knowing, we are defeated. Laugh! Laugh! Their creature will come to us on the morrow. Laugh, for such things now have meaning. We will be lead forth from this place, into memory, forever there to lurk. Deeper and deeper we shall go to find what remains of the sheltering darkness and there survive as best we can. We will starve, brothers. The lean times will never end. We will be hidden again, yes, but it is refuge, not ambuscade. It will be a rare meal we can make of these little kindred when they wander into our purlieu. But still, laugh! Yes, laugh! One day their strength will consume them. Their rules will bind them up as a web and no matter their struggle their fate is sealed. Their masters will send them forth in turn and there is no sheltering darkness to hide their hideous end. We see it. So I say laugh! It is a grand joke we embark upon! Eat! Be merry, brothers, and always laugh!