October 25
Imladris
The Council of Elrond
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess," Elrond said
solemnly to the stunned Dwarf. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it
be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."
He glanced around at the assembled Council. "One of you must do this."
The grim faced Hobbit stood up. "When do I leave?"
Everyone but Gandalf, Elrond and Strider gave him incredulous stares.
Boromir looked at him as if he were mad. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates
are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye
is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you
breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!"
The Hobbit's expression didn't change. "Ten thousand men aren't going to Mordor. I am."
He looked back at Elrond. "So I ask again, when do I leave?"