Greetings my Little Shirelings! I've been very busy this week! The Summer Festival is over. It was fun, but all good things must come to an end. My Little Ones busily sifted through this weeks questions (e-mailed to Peepmouse@zam.com) and here is what we found:

Dear Peepmouse,
Like yourself, I am a hobbit, but of some questionable repute. It seems my chosen vocation has turned itself in on me because I am having the most terrible dreams. At least I think they are dreams...
One night I was a terrible Orc Bowman, shoooting fire-laden arrows, cutting down elves, dwarves, men and even hobbits, well one was a politition, but he was still a hobbit. The next night I was an even scarier Uruk War-leader, whipping a phalanx of Orcs, Wargs and Spiders to massacre dozens of peoples of the noble races of Middle Earth.
Last night was the kicker though as I slunk to the lowest level. I was covered with fur, running on all-fours, slinking and ambushing poor minstrels like yourself, inflicting severe crippling wounds so my equally nasty companions could finish the job. Perhaps a new career other than burgling?

Your Fellow Hobbit,
Dotgrim Took in Meneldor

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