Item:Copy of Lost Lore: Dwarves of Erebor

Copy of Lost Lore: Dwarves of Erebor

• Item Level: 1
 
 
• "By King Thorin III Stonehelm"
 
• Worth: 1  14  

Quest Information

This item is a reward for completing the quest [115] Lost Lore of the North: Dwarves.

Item Information

When used, the item displays the complete text of the Lost Lore book:

Dragons

"Many are the enemies of dwarves: goblins, Wargs, spiders, Orcs. But oldest and greatest of our foes, yes, maybe greater even than Durin's Bane, are dragons. Where dwarves toil tirelessly, dragons sleep. What dwarves have mined and wrought, dragons steal. What dwarves barter and bestow, dragons hoard. Truly, they are our natural foes. And, like all of dwarf-kind's greatest sorrows, the curse of dragons was brought on by ourselves, and cost us all we dreamed and held most dear.

For it was we, of Durin's Folk, who woke the great dragons in times of old, and in doing so lost the Grey Mountains that we called home. To Khazad-dûm we retreated then, but at last the wakened dragons came and found us there. With the aid of Elves and Men, we bested them, though the cost was great, and for a time knew peace. Centuries of peace passed, and the memory of dragons faded. So it was that to the Grey Mountains we sojourned a second time, unknowing that the dragons who had lived and fled lay slumbering there. Again we fled the dragons' wrath and this time came to Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. But the great Scatha, wakened, wandered far and wide, troubling all.

It was a Man, Fram, son of Frumgar, Chief of the Éothéod, who ended the dragon Scatha. A great deed to echo through the ages, and a dragon's hoard as prize. Now much of Scatha's hoard was taken from Durin's Folk, and so a messenger was sent to the Men of the Éothéod, begging our share. What was their reply? A necklace made of Scatha's teeth and nothing more. This was the final dragon's curse: a sickness of greed that turns those who should be allies into foes.

Time went and our dreams of the North would not die. So yet again, in the days of Thorin I, to the Grey Mountains we ventured again. This time, the dragons whose lives and memories are longer than ours, bided their time and waited.

In a time of quiet, when the new king, Dáin I thought all safe, when the Men of the Éothéod were off at war, then the dragons struck, and much was lost. The cold-drake Vethúg Wintermind slayed both King Dáin I and his son, Frór. Their Grey Kingdom was lost, and we fled again, tears in our eyes, to return north no more.

Now Thrór II built anew in Erebor, and Grór his brother in the Iron Hills. Our dreams were dead or abandoned, but in time Smaug the Golden awoke and to the Lonely Mountain came. The tale of Smaug in Erebor, and how upon Thorin Oakenshield's return, Smaug woke and was slain, is well enough known in these times, I will say only: let this be the last dragon and last of our sorrows. Some may say I am cautious or old and weary, but still I say: let us dream no more dreams that may bring ruin on Durin's Folk. Let dragons sleep, and dwarves toil fruitfully where they dwell, and the work of our hands suffice."