[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

I thank thee for thy kind words, but this riddle is hard to fathom. Mayhap my noble brand knoweth the king whereof thou speakest:

How many times do I have to tell you not to speak that way? You're getting such a cut next time I'm out

Give me the answer or I won't get that new whetstone.

All right already! It's Amroth. Now shut up and go away

This maketh no sense to me, but so it ever is with matters of thought. Could it be that the sword speaks sooth?