Mike the Super Hobbit


King Mike the Magic Hobbit, lay on the floor giggling over a miniature model of his city Vanwacollo as he watched a knight grab a torch and set fire to a straw house, then laughing hysterically, run after the family's pig. Sighing, Mike put out the fire with a poke of his finger, then rolled onto his back, thinking of outside, his friends, and Esmerelda Brandybuck, his girlfriend, wishing he could be there. Mike was confined to his room just because of some stupid murdering Orc.

Suddenly, with a blinding light the doors exploded and in seconds, hideous filthy creatures surrounded Mike, jabbing various rather sharp looking weapons at him and baring yellow rotting teeth. Mike was on his feet in a flash, trying to summon a portal to send the Orcs into a dark abyss. Nothing happened. A noise behind him made Mike turn slowly around, the rosy hue of his cheeks quickly fading to a sickly pale. Towering over him was the most terrifying sight Mike had ever seen in his short seventeen years; Grimtakh the Sleek, a treacherous merciless Orc, who seized, and destroyed countless villages. Standing beside Grimtakh, was a sorceress who was holding up a small bottle, and chanting a spell. Mike felt weaker and weaker, until he swayed and collapsed onto the floor. The room swirled, Mike shut his eyes tight and clutched his large giraffe doll, trying to steady himself. The last thing he heard was the words of the Assassin,
"Throw him into the dungeons, I have no need for him. He'll starve in a couple of days. There was cruel laughter, and all was dark.