We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Area denied. The road goes ever on and on Children, listen as the shadows cross your sleeping hutch, And the village sleeps away, streets emptied of the crowds, And the moons do balefully glare through the nightly clouds, And the graveyard's people rest, we hope, in eternal sleep, Listen and you'll hear the whispered tap of the footsteps creep, Then pray you'll never feel the Worm King's awful touch. I don't wanna talk. I wanna shoot. Nothing burns like the cold. Skooma! Oh yeah… You want to… want to be my friend? I'll… I'll tell you what… Skooma's the only thing… the only thing I want… Whether a gesture’s charming or alarming, depends on how it’s received. At an end your rule is, and not short enough it was!

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.

I'll scout ahead!