Prompt #1: Destiny and Chicken
It was out last night in Rivendell, or Imladris, as the elves had called in their many songs and tales.
I devoured my roast chicken thigh, brought to me by a fair elven maid, clad in dark green, carrying an intricate silver platter. Upon it; a meal fit for a lord.
As I did thus, I pondered my destiny, and with that, where I fit into the bigger picture. Mr Frodo Baggins. A humble hobbit from The Shire, now tasked to destroy a god gone bad.
"What have I got myself into?" I said aloud.