[SamwiseGamgee]

I now return, glad to recount tales of wargs and their exploits. I feel now is as good a time as any to tell the story of my time in Bhutan, and the famous sight I saw of Yeti and Warg, locked in mortal combat.
I was first sent to Bhutan as part of a BBC research team. We had been sent in order to seek out evidence of two of the greatest legends of all time: the yeti and the black mountain warg. I had spent 25 nights in Bhutan without ever having seen anything other than squirrels and bears. We had split our group up and I had camped out on a plateau known to the locals as 'Shuekwasho', that is 'the place of the warg'. It was on the 26th night that my luck perked up.
At about 2am I made my first sighting of a yeti. It was a huge creature. Nearly 9 ft tall and covered in short, coarse, black hair. It had features like a man, yet different in some slight, indistinguishable way. He came quite near my tent and was making intimidating noises. This continued for another half hour, and as it did so I became more and more tense.
It is a well known fact among the native mountain trackers of Bhutan that Yetis do not take fondly to humans. Legend would have them believe that any mortal who is not worthy to look upon the Yeti but does so will surely die. Just as the Yeti seemed to be preparing for its assault on my tent he was attacked by a warg. The warg was huge. At least 11 ft long, about 7ft tall and perhaps 6ft broad at the shoulders. His great black fur shone in the full moon of the mountains and his silvery mane flowed majestically down his spine! He plunged upon the Yeti like a great noble knight! The Yeti fought him off and in moments these two mythical warriors were embroiled in a battle, nay war, of titanic proportions. For the next hour the two fought each other viciously and without rest. There was blood aplenty and at one point the Yeti even lost his right eye- a specimen which I still have- in a particularly gruesome gouge.
The battle, however, could not continue forever. The warg was gaining the upper hand and the Yeti was in serious trouble. He soon realised that against a great black mountain warg there can be no victory, and so skulked off into the dawn mists to die alone.
The warg stood there, steam rising from his exhausted body, somewhere between a shadow and reality. A great, black silhouette against the breathtaking scenery of the Bhutanese Alps at dawn. There he stood, King of Beasts, Lord of Battle and Noble Protector. For there he stayed, laying down after a short while, until the voices of my trackers could be heard and he knew I would be safe from the murderous Yeti.
And so he passed into the forests and forever from my sight. I have told many my story, though few believe. I admit, even I may have formerly been a sceptic. However, when one has seen the great black mountain warg one knows that he is no mere mortal warg, he is as the Bhutanese locals say a 'Diuesal'- a protector from the gods.