Hello Gramps, I hope this letter finds you hale and hearty and that your back is on the mend. You really should think twice before offering to lift Grandma’s goblin head collection so she can sweep under it! You’re asking for trouble gramps, really you are.
Speaking of asking for trouble, I think I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew over here. Don’t get me wrong, Gonadmon is fine and I’m doing well, but part of the reason I came here was to find the blessed third gear for Bavor back in Thorin’s Hall and I’ve discovered it’s lost in the old burial grounds out in the wilderness hereabouts. In and of itself that’s not worrying me. No, what is worrying me is that whatever shadow is spreading across our land, I have heard rumour it has given life to the dead and they even now wander the hills and halls of their broken rest ever hungering to snuff out the life and warmth of life. My life, for instance.
Now look gramps, I’m no coward you know that. Show me some goblins or a few orcs and I’m right in there burrying arrows into skulls and axes into bellies, but these foes are already dead gramps! By the Hall of Durin how am I supposed to kill what is already dead?
I’m off to post this now and then heading out. Hold me in your thoughts to Aulë and hopefully I’ll be mailing you another letter soon. Whatever you do gramps, don’t tell grandma about this, you know how she breaks things when she worries.
Yours on the hoof,
Gondmon, Erid Luin.