The Hobbit Short Story

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In the midst of hobbiton sat hobbits convened at their local pub tippsy on ale and deep in routine conversation about normal hobbit things such as the weather, that years harvest, or news of distance lands from coming travelers. These hobbits did mundane activities and such had mundane lives. The owner of the pub, Odo Bilberry was not exception. Hobbits are contempt with hearing of heroic tales of faraway lands without actually participating in these events. Most hobbits that is. However, Wilimar “fib” Underhill wasn’t most hobbits. As the hobbits of hobbiton sat around the fire drinking their ale the door flew open and in walked a hobbit with a wide grin on his face. The travelers and hobbits alike all ceased their conversations and stared at our newly arrived guest. Upon him was his cloak, tattered--once green--and covered in mud. His pants were riddled with holes and drenched in rain from outside. Atop his head, his hair was thick curly, and covered in soggy leaves. “What’s a fellow gotta do to get a drink around her?” Wilimar asked cheerfully. The pub stared silent then turned towards Odo, waiting for instruction. Noticing the eyes, Odo stood up and cleared his throat. “For one a respectable outfit would be nice” Odo…show more content…
Their faces were rugged, their glowed like the sun on a summer’s dawn. Their bodies radiate pure vigor. Each had a steel sword, light, durable and curved at the end, proudly attached to their belts next to their shields. An old man dressed in ancient grey robes sat with them. His grey pointed hat matched the color of his hair. A wooden staff lay on the floor by his side. He was deeply reading a map and paid no attention to the hobbit. One of the men stood up and turned towards Wilimar. He turned, surveying his audience, and once satisfied proclaimed, “Thank you my dear Odo. As he said, the four of us are on our way to lead a raid on Orcs in the Misty

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