[Gothmog]

The tear slowly finding it's way down the green cheek dripped down on a wrinkled piece of paper. There were no fancy adornments, no beautiful poem or drawn pictures. It was a short message written down in crude letters and it looked like it was scribbled down in a hurry. But still the simplicity and apparent honestly of the note moved the mighty wight. The text read:

"Dear mr Wight
I hope you excuse the late arrival of this letter. I want to thank you,
on the behalf of all stray Balrogs out there, for giving up your barrow
as a resting place when our limbs grow too weary on our journeys.
Here, we can always find the warmth of friendship and shared interests.
For the past six years and an eternity to come!

/Gothmog, the friendly leader of the Balrogs"

After a faint smile, the ghastly shape of the wight let the piece of paper fall into the growing pile already read letters and extended his bony hand towards the next one...