Ever they delved deep, down into the dark and that is where they found it, the Heart of the Mountain! The Arkenstone. The skill of the Dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewn from rock and in great seams of gold running like rivers through stone. Ah, Frodo, Erebor! Built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend. Thrór ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson.
For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth Erebor, stronghold of Thrór, King under the Mountain and mightiest of the Dwarf-lords.
There was the city of Dale, its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous. It began long ago in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today. I think it is time for you to know what really happened. And while I can honestly say I have told you the truth, I may not have told you all of it.
My dear Frodo, you asked me once if I had told you everything there was to know about my adventures.
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