Aim: Classified activity in Rohan, plus an unexpected discovery...

Your eminence ... A recent spy/travel report sent in by a wandering Rogue, who now awaits your pleasure in the Torture Chamber.

I have recently taken my dubious and (highly) illegal activities to the green fields of Rohan, a land where the sun always shines. Needless to say, I felt VERY insecure. But never mind, Duty is the Order of the Day, and close to every Minion’s heart is a wish to please our Lord, Sauron the Intemperate. [Spy Master’s Edit: scan this report for sarcasm. Suggest torture if problem continues.] Whilst leaning against the wall of a run-down, olde worlde hut within the gates of Rohan, I was party to an interesting occurrence. As the hateful orb of fire set in the west, and the chill of evening began to bite, it happened. I met my first Rider!

I must admit that flight was the second thought in my mind. The first was to finish my pint before I was chucked out of the country. However, the disgustingly pretty-looking human didn’t object to my presence. This may have been due to the sword I was pointing at its throat, or possibly because of a latent sympathy towards the Powers of Darkness? But, anyway, I remained put, and heard the following conversation:

A dwarf passed by, in TEARS! He was generally bemoaning his lot in the sultry evening and was heedless of who heard his grievances. The Rider (beginning to look remarkably edible in the eventide) stopped him, and asked if it could help.

The answer was AMAZING! The dwarf, a bard of sorts, was worried of being an outcast, and despised by other Dwarves. He was viewing the option of leaving the Dwarven Halls and swearing allegiance elsewhere! Well, Masters, I ran as fast as I could, and brought you this in case it was of interest.

Of course, Your Eminences, if this is true, if Dwarves ARE discontented due to lack of appreciation for their poetic skills, then there could be a chance for us to exploit them! WE could start actions to draw them to ourselves and enslave them!

Galloped to Angmar by Cirdar in his untaxed cut-and-shut wain with dodgy purple paint job. The pride of the fleet...