Chapter 1: Many meetings

Tristan Baggins was a simple Hobbit. He lived in a hole, a hobbit-hole, and hobbit-holes are the height of comfort and homeliness. He enjoyed coming to parties and functions almost as much as he loved hosting them but, as his ancestors before him, he preferred to know them before they came visiting. But he always dreamed of going on an adventure like in the tales he had heard of about Bilbo and Frodo but he was nearing 40 and was starting to doubt if adventure would ever come calling when one standard Saturday afternoon, one knocked at his door...

*knock knock knock*
Tristan looked up from The Hobbiton Daily. He had not been expecting any visitors. Folding the newspaper carefully and setting it down on the side-table and getting out of his favourite chair, which he had inherited from Bilbo, he walked over to the large, round green door or Bag End and slid open the peephole with a small clank. All he could see was part of a massive braided ginger beard until the unexpected visitor bent to the level of the peep-hole and looked in. The eyes were grey and hard, not yielding any information as to the visitors identity. Tristan had no friends with such cutting, unyielding eyes. He didn't really feel like opening to the owner of such eyes but knew that the visitor knew he was there and would be extremely offended if he didn't open the door. So, hoping fervently he wasn't making a mistake, Tristan grabbed the plain metal pull-ring and heaved the heavy wooden open.

Tristan looked the visitor down. It was a dwarf, a burly, ginger haired dwarf who looked like he'd won a war on his own and then walked through a muddy wood for a week. He was wearing heavy looking, metal armour that had been scratched and gouged all over, on top of a sweaty looking leather jerkin that also bore the marks of long use. A brutal double-headed axe was slung onto the dwarf's back and had chinks missing from the blades, proving it had been used and a couple of knives with fancy carved handles glinted in their leather sheaths on a bulky, frayed belt. The dwarf's ginger beard blended seamlessly with his hair and separated into four braids, one of which looped down from one cheek and over to the other cheek. The dwarf was wearing baggy trousers which had holes in about twenty different places and the bottoms of which were plastered in mud.

Breaking the silence the dwarf asked,"Are you Tristan Baggins?"
Tristan made a mental note to find out how this violent looking dwarf knew his name before extending a hand. "Yes, and you are?"
"Bob," Bob replied, taking the delicate hand and crushing it in his iron grip.
"Bob?" Tristan asked incredulously, having trouble matching the name to this burly character before him.
"Got a problem?" Bob growled, dropping Tristan's hand.
"No, just haven't met a Bob before," Tristan confessed, hoping he hadn't upset the dwarf, who looked like he could pick him up and snap him over his knee without breaking a sweat.
Bob, in his usual grumpy mood, replied, "it's not uncommon for a dwarf." He then stomped through the door, his massive boots muddying the porch area.
"Well, what are you here for?" Tristan asked hoping to get the messy dwarf out of his home and back to his newspaper and pipe faster.
"I need someone to help me," Bob announced, shocking Tristan. What could he help this dwarf with?
"With what exactly?" Tristan asked, his voice quavering slightly as his brain ran through millions of possible outcomes to the conversation. None were particularly nice.
"There's a troll," Bob revealed, clearly worried about Tristan's reaction to this new information.
"A troll! Why do you want me when this is about a troll?" Tristan cried, his voice rising an octave in his panic.
"I need you to help me get rid of the troll," Bob elaborated slowy, trying vainly to stop Tristan freaking out.
"But, but, but, but why me!?" Tristan cried, almost throwing the dwarf out of his house right then, the only thing stopping him was the adventurous streak that ran in the Baggins family.
"Because you look especially frail and fragile. This ought to toughen you up a bit," Bob replied, struggling for an excuse.
"Or kill me!" Tristan countered.
"Maybe, but not likely. What's your preferred weapon?" Bob asked more eagerly, livening as he got more into his element.
"A smoking pipe?" Tristan answered somewhat sarcastically.
"I feared as much. Axe, sword, bow and arrow, knives, or mace?" Bob asked, revising the question. He looked Tristan up and down, trying to guage how good he'd be in combat.
"And don't forget magic," commented a shadowy figure from under the nearest tree. Bob turned to the figure and took a step forward, trying to figure who it was and whether he was a threat. "Gandalf" Bob said with disgust after a few seconds. "I thought you were gone."
"Not Gandalf," said the shadowy man, stepping out into the light." I'm Edrol, one of the blue wizards, I'm sure Gandalf said something about us"
"Yeah. He told my father that he had 'quite forgotten your name.'" Bob sneered.
"Oh... Well I guess we weren't around much on account of my brother, Ridfol, he was always getting himself in trouble, the poor fellow," Edrol explained, a sad look coming into his eye.
"There's a shock," muttered Bob sarcastically.
"Well, he accidentally turned himself into a Warg with an irremovable spell last month," Edrol hesitated, weighing his next words carefully,"Then he tried to eat me... Let's just say someone spiked the appetizers."
"What do you want?" Bob growled, not enjoying the small talk.
"To accompany you," revealed Edrol, releasing a smoke dragon from a pipe which he drew from the depths of his grey cloak," And to teach Tristan magic."
"No. Absolutely not," Bob said forcefully, stepping between Tristan and Edrol.

Edrol sighed, "Is this going to end up like Thorin and the elves?"

Bob looked offended ant this. "No, Thorin liked elves in the end. Mildly at least. I despise wizards. Stuck up magical know-it-alls," Bob replied, muttering the last few words under his breath, but loud enough that Edrol heard him.
"Excuse me! I do not know everything!" Edrol shouted defensively. Evidently Bob had hit a nerve with his comment.
"I agree! You only act like you do." Bob corrected snarkily.
"And how would you know that, we only met minutes ago," Edrol yelled, his voice rising in frustration.
"You're a wizard," Bob said shortly, crossing his arms.
"So?"
"You're a wizard. Wizards are stuck-up know-it-alls," Bob said matter of factly, as this was common knowledge.
"You don't have proof of that" Edrol countered, tiring quickly of the debate.
"You're still stuck up know-it-alls." Bob said stubbornly.
"Urgh, can we just stop this nonsense now?" Edrol asked, exasperated by Bob's argument.
"If you'll leave then yes."
"Well I can't leave. This quest is of great importance!"
"This is indeed a very important quest. Fortunately, you're not needed so, you can leave."
"I think underestimate your foes in this quest to reclaim Moria! Tristan do you remember the Mouth of Sauron?"
"I-I think so, but-" Tristan began nervously.
"Why did you tell him that?" Bob interrupted hastily.
" Tell him what!?" Edrol inquired innocently.
"Where the quest was going, what we're going to do. He's a young hobbit! You can't convince him to leave the Shire if you all but say he's going to die!" Bob yelled, nearly charging at Edrol in blind fury.
"He won't die, I'm sure you can teach him sword fighting, I magic and," Edrol began, pointing at Bob as he spoke.
"I, archery!" yelled a figure, clad in green, running down the road like his life depended on it.
"You'll be doing no such thing wizard. I will not allow it," Bob stated, seemingly ignoring the newcomer.
"Hey! Aren't ya gonna say hello? Or at least ask me why I'm late?" Cried the newcomer, bursting through the gate and running up to Bob. He grabbed Bob into a hug, shocking Tristan, who had thought most Dwarves and Elves hated, or at least didn't associate, with each other.
"It's so good to see you!" Cried Bob with a grin on his face for the first time that day, returning the massive bear hug.
"Hey partner!" said the newcomer with a smile. They seperated from the embrace after a few seconds and turned back to Edrol and Tristan.
"Wait... Who are you?" Tristan asked, overwhelmed by the amount of new people.
Bob cut in before the newcomer spoke, deciding to introduce the stranger, "This my dear Hobbit, is Chliohne, son of Legolas. Surely you remember Legolas!"
Tristan said nothing but merely stood gaping at the son of his hero. He opened his mouth several times, nothing coming out but some strangled grunts.
"Legolas's son!" Tristan shrieked before running inside extremely quickly for a Hobbit, totally overwhelmed by the events of the morning.
"We'd better follow him. Come along Chliohne. Farewell and good travels wizard," Bob suggested, looking concerned and turning to step back inside Bag End.
"I'm not leaving, Bob" Edrol interjected, turning to walk inside with Chliohne, starting a conversation with the elf.
"I am going to shove my axe up his nose if he doesn't leave," muttered Bob so infuriated, that he almost took out the bright yellow mailbox, which seemed to be mocking him to his imagination.
"Hey lighten up Bob," said Chliohne, turning round to face him, obviously slightly narked by his friends behaviour,"He's only a wizard."
"Exactly my thoughts. Only a wizard. See? What did I tell you you insufferable know it all?" Bob said, seemingly misunderstanding his friends defense of Edrol.
"I said I'm not a know-it-all, now let's go get Tristan and hold a council," remarked Edrol, turning round to go inside.
"I'm not going to tell Tristan another word until you leave. I have all the information and you have none. Therefore, you have no further use. You are dismissed," Bob stated, trying to shoo Edrol away.
"I have more information than you I am sure," said Edrol quietly,"Behold!" He cried, whipping his cloak open and revealing one of the seven seeing stones. The stone swirled temptingly at the companies eyes for a moment before Edrol covered it again, preventing it hooking them in totally.
Bob cursed when he saw the stone,"Why are you here?!"
"To help... This quest will direct the path of the entire Fifth Age!" Edrol declared, his voice full of authority
"What in all Middle Earth are you talking about?!" Bob bellowed,"It's not that big of a deal you wand waving fool of a wizard!"
"Wait a moment. I will explain all at the council," Edrol said, trying to placate Bob. He couldn't have the dwarf snapping and storming off.
"I'm gonna run my axe through you before there's time for any blasted council! All parties of the council, except for Tristan, should be well informed about what's about to take place. That's you, me, and Chliohne," Bob said, evidently having backed done of the issue of Edrol being present.
"Tristan will play as large a part in this as all of you!" Edrol yelled, banging his twisted wooden staff on the pathway, cracking the slabs and sending a massive boom that silenced all present and caused hobbits down the road to look over in astonishment. "Tristan will be informed as well, at the council."
"I'd love to filled in on what is going on here!" Chliohne yelled. Up until now, everyone had been ignoring Chliohne during the argument.
"And you will, my friend. Let's go inside," consoled Edrol, turning to finally head through the round green door of Bag End.