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There and back again. A Hobbits tale.
Crippledbaboon
Chapter one: Concerning Hobbits. Bircalin, son of Sturtart was a hobbit like any other. He enjoyed his ale, his food and of course, his long-bottom leaf! He lived with the elven druids in the great city of Laurelin. There he was given his home, RavenLodge. He lived with the wise, and powerful elf druids. An order created to protect not only the elven realm but all of nature and its bounties. There he would read and write all day long. Sometimes he would pop out to Al'Khazaar for a cheeky ale with some friends. Never any danger occurred. One night his dwarven friend Rigrud came to RavenLodge to visit. " Aaah Rigrud! How good it is to see you once more! " He cried. " And the same to you, Bircalin! What are you doing this far from Dunwood my friend? " He asked. " Oh my dear boy i live here. With the druids of course. I write stories and guides for them" " aah you must have a creative mind for that, nothing ever happens here in Aegis. " Rigrud chuckled " My friend, a good story doesn't always involve war and disaster. A simple sapling can have the greatest tale of all the creatures in the land. From the epic struggle to grow from its roots, starving, thirsty, blind. Then the grand opening when it breaks through the soil, to see the other saplings, all feeling the same way. The sun beating down on them, basking them in life... Is that not a good story my friend? " Bircalin claimed. " You forget the glory of battle, however. The honour of slaying an enemy general and his guards! " Bircalin thought to himself " He truly does love a good old scrap. How i missed his friendly banter" " I must keep writing these books Rigrud. You are free to stay as long as you want. " " Just one more question friend... It is my birthady rather soon, two weeks coming. Do you think it would be possible for you to host a party of sorts for me ? I would be most delighted! " Bircalin scratched his head for a minute. " Im not sure what the druids will think of me hosting a party here. However, Im sure if its ok for them to join in they wouldnt mind?" He said, smiling cheekily at Rigrud. " Oh of course they can come! The more the merrier! Although, they must bring some of their most wonderful elven ale with them! " He said, also smiling cheekily. The party lasted all of the night and carried on through the morning, only those who had not drowned themselves in ale, and smoked to their hearts content with Long-Bottom leaf had stayed awake until early morning. When all the guests had left, only Bircalin ,Rigrud and the twelve dwarves remained. Once they were sober again Rigrud called upon all his dwarves and Bircalin. They gathered round a large, dark wood, circular table. Rigrud pulled out a scroll from his satchel and unrolled it and displayed it on the table. It was a map, with some dwarvish writing to the side of the badly drawn sketches. Rigrud explained how it was indeed a map. A map that lead through misty mountains into the heart of the mountain fort. This fort once belonged to great Dwarf Lords, of course, before Syr came and unleashed his wrath. Rigrud told how Bircalin would serve as the expeditions " burglar ". Reclaiming the vast treasures whislt the dwarves do battle with Syr. Then, they will feast in the grand halls. like the kings of old once had. Where tasteful smoke from their pipes shall fill the air, and the warm, steady brewing of roasted porks and mushroom stews fill their noses with the scent of victory. There they will play their flutes and guitars. Singing songs of honour, glory and victory. Their lives will be fufilled once more. The gold and riches to keep them wealthy for all of time. The dwarves, being in their usual, optimistic mood. Began equpping themselves for a long journey ahead of them. Although on their faces was bravery and courage. Each and every one of them knew deep down inside they may not be returning. Bircalin packed his elvish bread, given to him by the druids. Even the smallest bite acn fill a grown mans stomach. He packed his sword, Shade. He had endured many fierce battles with Shade. He wasn't prepared to leave it just yet. Rigrud packed his glorious axe, Aurora. " We leave at first light. " Said Bircalin. The company of fourteen small, valiant souls marched on at dawn. Towards the lonely mountains and valleys. All fearfull and nervous of what they will find, but at the same time. They were hardy, and happy to be with their brothers. As they marched on through the day, sun rose and fell. As the moon rose they continued their trek, fearing not for what lay ahead in the dark chasm of night... A small glimpse of orange and yellow fluttered on the horizon. " What is that? to the east. " One of the dwarves asked, his rough beard catching his words. " Im not sure brother. " Rigrud answered, slight worry in his tone. Next to the ominous light appeared several silhouettes. Gigantic in comparison to the light. " Mother Aegis... What are they! " Asked another dwarf, sounding awfully concerned. " Trolls... " Muttered Bircalin " Trolls! " The 13 dwarves shouted in unison. " Lets get them! " They cheered. They began to pick up the pace, speeding up towards the new-found prey. As they ran a slight shaking came after each step. Then a boom, they were charging... " Aah Rigrud, you seem to be putting on some weight! I can feel the ground shake before me after each of your steps! " One of the dwarves jeered as they ran. However they soon realised something was horribly wrong. Rigrud was nowhere to be found. They turned to look behind them and gaped in horror, Rigrud was in the hands of a troll. Thumping at its fist helplessly. " Run you fools! He'll kill you all! " Rigrud warned. However, in trying to deter his companions he had infact rallide them. And so they charged at the troll, weapons and voices raised. Two of the dwarves stopped relatively far from the troll and each of them unlatched a smaller axe from their belts. They then grunted and launched the axes a the trolls face, one missing wildly, one catching the troll in the eye. Groaning in severe pain the troll swiped his free hand blindly infront of himself. A loud scream was heard then a body was flung into the forest, faliling about in the air. " Gorsdun! No! No! " one of the dwarves wailed. but it was too late. He was lost in the dense shrub. The grief stricken dwarf ran towards the troll swinging his axe without a care in the world. The axe, falling onto the trolls foot, became wedged as the troll swung its foot around carelessly. This caused the troll to lose balance and tumble over, releasing Rigrud from its grasp. He fell to the floor, coughing. The group watched in awe as the troll rolled aimlessly down a steep, rocky hill. " No... No! " Rigrud Wailed. A silence was shared between the band of brothers. One of grief, and respect. " We must press on. " Said Bircalin. " Have you no soul? One of my closest friends and comrades was just mauled before my eyes " claimed Rigrud. Once the eerie thoughts and hidden tears had passed, the group set off. To