News from the East, my friends. The arm of the Enemy stretches long over the lands, and nowhere is the Shadow felt as strongly as within the heart of the former stronghold of The Necromancer in the south of Mirkwood. With a company of but twelve, I have ventured deep into the heart of Mirkwood to the very gates of this evil place, and entered Barad Guldur, the lair of the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur — a powerful and ancient servant of the Enemy.
We have called ourselves “Grace of the Valar,” for it is with their grace alone we will stand against the tide of evil that rushes through the halls of this forsaken place. Twelve Men, Dwarves and Elves to stand against countless incarnations of the evil that dwells there. But, victorious, we held the tide at bay to face the Lieutenant’s servant Dúrchest, a being of pure energy clad in plate mail. A long and tiring battle was upon us as he called his soldiers forth, yet one at a time they fell to blade and bow. Finally defeated, Dúrchest fell before us with a cry that chilled my heart.
Twin servants of the Lieutenant, Morgaraf and Cargaraf — who serve their Master with the powers of Shadow and Flame — fought long and hard against our small band, but the stars of Elbereth must have been on us, as they likewise were defeated. Exhausted and recovering in the smoldering wreckage of a once-great hall, we rest. The greatest Evil lies ahead.