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A Obituary In The Hobbit-Daily Newspaper

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Kaiser

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17 Grand Harvest, 1500.

Today marks the end of Richard Willowswamp. At the ripe old age of 156, Richard died by drinking some dank lager sold to him by a Dwarf in Petrus, tripping mad balls with Aestervellis about the harvest spirits, and having a heart attack to go and live with the spirits.

 

On this day, he shall be buried within Gimblewood, along with his trust pipe, staff, and, of course, shovel. Many family, and few friends, attend the burial of the old Hobbit, as he was a lovable, but very grouchy, man.

 

Richard Willowswamp, Grey-Beard atop the hobbit mountain, ex-Sheriff, forever a drunk. May he rest in peace with the harvest guardians.

 

~*~ R.I.P ~*~

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Ehrick Elderon frowns. "Oh, how I wish things could have happened differently.."

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A loud screech of sadness is heard from Kal'Karaad's smithy as Katari finds out.

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Folgo stands at the grave, nodding slowly. "'E 'ad a good life, 'e did."

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Fumble cries for 7 days and 7 nights

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Bramblerose Bumbleroot frowns when she reads this. "Th' poor thing. A' leas' 'e 'ad a good time b'fore. Seems like I'm th' only oldie in th' village now." She weeps. "'m so loneleh. Why d' people go' t' die?"

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"A true friend... a royal pain in th' arse, bu' a true friend," Rupert says with a frown.

 

A single firespark is launched from atop the hobbit mountain, soaring higher than any before it. With a sudden and loud boom, the firespark releases a dark letter "R" in the sky momentarily, only to dissipate and shower the Dale with dull, gray confetti.

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" I'll miss ye, ye crazed loon.."

Gaeleg places his most prized barrel of ale next to Richard's grave and sheds a single tear.

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Dill walks over to the grave, placing his favorite poking stick on the dirt and runs away crying 

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

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