My Lord,
We intercepted this communication today. I am unsure if its contents are meaningful to you but the Sage translated its contents and said it was written in the language of the Goblins.
Your faithful Servant
I took Welarid to the Shaman. His medicine’s strong but Welarid ‘aint good.
The elves ran at us, spears down an’ shields up. Shuk-Welarid stood next to me, eh’s a good stabber an’ a smart Goblin. As soon as we crashed t‘gether, the elf was like a shadow. Outa’ nowhere. A Shady he was an’ he Lunged at Welarid. Nothin’ we could do. The elf was too fast for us. But Welarid was a lucky Goblin that day. Some Hamham had been splattered before where we stood and the Shady slipped in the Hamham brains. Them bouncy critters are jus’ one big brain so there’s a lot of it about. The deathblow missed an’ only sliced the shoulder of Welarid. Was jus’ a small cut. The elf ended up on the floor an’ the rest of the lads jumped him and we beat the elves back. Nex’ day Welarid is sick. That little cut was infectioned something bad.
Welarid died bad, screaming in agony. Shaman couldn’t help him. Said it was a poison of the highest potentiate. Took ‘im a long time to go, it did. He was not so lucky after all. We all be back at the Garden now an’ need a new Shuk-boss. You need to get back ‘ere with the supply for the feast, and fast!