Lancogard

Being a letter from Applecider Bolingbroke to Lancogard North-Took, Dep.-Shirriff of the Northfarthing. Salutations an’ all me respects to the Honorable Bounders: May their tea biscuits never crumble.

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Being a letter from Applecider Bolingbroke, dispatched on tawny wings from her lodgings at Chubb Stables & Hostelry, Hobbiton-Bywater, The Shire, to Lancogard North-Took, Hon. Deputy-Shirriff of the Northfarthing.

LONG CLEEVE, YONDERSHIRE, on this the 24^th day of Astron

"Everybody was Hobbit-Fighting!"

The Harrowing Case of the Horrible Harfoot

(Being an entry in Lancogard North-took’s life-book)

From Applecider Bolingbroke to Deputy-Shirriff Lancogard North-Took ~ Salutations an’ all me respects to the Honorable Bounders: May the coming of Spring nae render their feet too muddy, on the Bounds.

I did it, Lance. 

I did every last blessed thing that every Book, Elf, Dorf, an’ half-functional iota of Hobbit Sense tol’ me. 

Catrena led our company on a path through dead and dying tree groves, through a valley that ran across the land like a spear-stab, headed north-east, nearest I could see.  All along the way, she told us gruesome stories of the land, what people and creatures were here – and all the while breathing this foul air which, according to her, came from a poisonous swamp and

From Applecider Bolingbroke to Deputy-Shirriff Lancogard North-Took ~ Salutations an’ all me respects to the Honorable Bounders: May their evidence be forever statistically robust.

Dear Lance,