I’m writing to you this letter from a place called Waymeet in the Shire, so I think that by the time you read this, I won’t be far from home. The food you sent was delicious, and Wynne helped me make the cookies. Sadly, all the cookies are gone and eaten, and now I am left without a snack.
Otherwise, I am alright. I’m not hurt or anything like that. I helped to rescue a dwarf called Drufi from a mine that caved in. The dwarven council also voted in favor of our proposals, which is good, I think. The Longbeards and Dourhands still hate each other, but that’s something we couldn’t have fixed anyway. I still do not understand why they insist on causing more problems for themselves than is necessary. Everywhere has problems, even Bree, for what it’s worth. All these places have one big problem in common, but I think it just gets ignored anyway. We cover it up with smaller problems and hope that it might disappear, but it doesn’t. It just gets buried.
There was also a battle. You said that goblins would start running when they heard my name, and I really wish they had done that. It was actually the other way around. I have never seen a battle like the one we fought at Rath Teraig. There were so many of us and even more of them. Do you think that in order to be a hero in battle, I’ve got to be ready to die? Some of my companions are, I think. But I don’t want to die in battle. Does that mean I’m not a hero?
There are a lot of other things I want to tell you, but I haven’t got any room left to write! I’ll come to see you as soon as I possibly can.