The Halfling An Expected Journey

[TavernLich 324]

-=Basically I will be writting a little spoof soon of The Hobbit -the tittle should be underlined but I'm on an iPhone- this will include names of people's personas -of course I won't reveal their real selves- and places around Athera/ Aegis. Do note that the actions created here are fictional and have never -atleast to my knowledge- been taken action of. Thanks.=-

 

Chapter One, A Surprise

 

          Over the Water and under the Hill, a quant little town with a quant little well, lived a halfling so happy and swell. This halfling, mind you, was quite the impressive halfling, well at least for his people's standards. No, he was not an adventurer, no he did not, nor want, possess the strength of orcs or the pedigree of elves. No, he was just a halfling, and a happy one at that. What are halflings you ask? Well, they are quite the jolly folk with their mind mostly on good ale, food, comfort and a well tended farm, and yes they had all that and more. They also quite enjoy a good plate of tea and taters, as I would personally know. But that is not the point now is it? Oh, of course I forgot to mention his name, Fumble, Fumble Willbottom, a strange name fit for but the mayor of the town, a halfling town. 

 

          Well Fumble was quite the halfling as you now know. He was born to be a halfling, with his family ranging from halfling to, unsurprisingly, halfling. No, he was not a Took, not a Took, for such a name was such a hassle, often uttered with adventures and all of its mis-comforts, as they would call it. Off to his house, or burrow I should say, well there really isn't much to say but how it was quite the halfling burrow. And that meant halfling comforts. Oh yes, Fumble as the young mayor of his little town with little people lived in great pleasure, many times having a plump stomach along with those pleasures. But a halfling burrow was a halfling burrow and that meant chimneys, which meant smoke.

 

           There was indeed smoke on that special day of special days. But not the kind from chimneys nor did it come from the kitchen, no it came from a pipe, a long one at that, protruding Fumbles mouth with the proper smoke rings coming from the other side.

 

            With a waddle and a taddle he made his way out, out to his little porch with little flowers. Expecting a fine day as usual. However, he with the sitting of his sitting chair and the reading of his reading paper, an odd shadow casted over him. Not a halfling shadow, no, nor was it dwarven, for it towered over him. 

 

            Fumble sighs silently to himself, with a close of his book, he looks up to the man with a smile. "Good mornin' mistah!" he says as he continues to gaze above the bearded man. "Nice wea'her we havin' tehday, eh?"

 

            The man chuckles aloud, his strangely too raspy voice booming about the town with a curious smile, "Well, do you mean the weather is the type to be good on? Or is the weather good that I should be good? Or do you imply that it is a good weather for you and I?"

 

            Fumble thinks for a moment, trying to ponder the man's riddle, "Well, all of em' of course!" With a jolly face and a smile that shamed all others. "Now, if ye don' mind meh too much, may this humble halfling know yer name?" The birds chirped, the trees whistled and the grasses waved, yet no such action came from the man. 

 

           The man sighs and moans as though out of deep disappointment. "Dear, oh dear, you aren't yourself today aren't you Fumble? Or have you simply forgotten all about me?" The man leans on his staff as he peers down on the halfling. "Perhaps you remember the name Ambros?" (( This will be used as a temp if no one comes up to claim the name of a wizard )). 

 

            Fumble squints his eyes in his not-too-obvious disbelief in the utterance of the name, "Ambros ye' say? Surely ye' speak not of 'em Ambros who has done goofed many a halflins' in his misadven'ures? Not teh Ambros who beat a Goblin te a drinkin' contest?" he says with an arched brow and his book put aside down his chair, slowly tilting down to the ground. Fumble's jaw begins to drop as he rants on and on about the adventures and reputation of Ambros.

 

           "Yes. Yes, I am." Ambros replies with a cheerful smile in his deeply wrinkled face.

            

            The book drops.

 

Chapter Two, Tea with Dwarves

 

         It was sundown when they arrived, one by one they scurried inside the halfling's little burrow, trying to comprehend why they were there.

[DISCOLIQUID 2731]

When you say the actions are fictional, does this mean they will not be happening in character?

[Heff 2460]

We already did this you goon, in the server you goon!

[TavernLich 324]

No, I just do it for the lols.

[James 425]

I did something similar to this in RP. The dwarven nation was looking for meteorites back on the temp map and we had thirteen Dwarves, Blundermore the White and the leader of the halflings lol. 

[TavernLich 324]

Oh, also I would like the permission to use names that fit the current professions or positions in the story, the ones with a * is already filled:

 

*Hobbit (Fumble Willbottom/ Ryanheff74)

Necromancer(s)

Dwarves, 13, however with this sheer amount, some of them may be made up names.

Trolls/ Ologs/ Uruks

Dragon (Someone can come up with a name)

Bandits

Bartenders

And of course: a wizard 

 

More will be added soon, off to writing!

[TavernLich 324]

-Snip, sorry-

[Knox213 10]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.