My head is still cloudy and full of the dreams which I had while under the influence of the medicine of man, but my nephew tells me that I must use this small window to tell you that I am here. I am Thorin Oakenshield, King of Erebor, leader of the House of Durin. It has been explained to me, but I still find it ridiculous that a man can share the face of a hobbit. I also wonder, in my thickheadedness from the herbs used to keep me asleep as I begin to heal, who this mysterious you is, to whom I am introducing myself.
I am also told that I have been here before, yet I have no memory of this.