Children's laughter and tall tales roamed the lands of Gondor, or so
the land was called in centuries before when the great kings ruled with a
mighty iron fist. Many often asked of those years, mostly children, and
only one was left alive to tell the tale. He was an unusually small man
named Peregrin Took VII, now living in the southlands near the rolling
hills and valleys of Kolomi, which used to be known as The Shire.
"Please Uncle!"
"Yes! Please tell us the story! Tell it again, please?"
"Come on Uncle Pippin! Tell it to us again!"
A warm chuckle emitted from the hobbit as he took a seat in his wicker rocking chair. "So you want to hear the story again?" he asked and several cheers sounded from the crowd of children gathered at his feet. He smiled and painted a puzzled look on his face. "Now, let's see if I can remember, what was this story about again?"
"It was about the king Aragorn!"
"Mr. Frodo and the ring, Uncle!"
"And the grand battles against the trolls and orcs!"
"Don't forget about the noble elves with their bows!"
Cheers surrounded the aging hobbit as the children each pointed out their favorite part of the story. The young boys acted out swordfights while the girls swooned over the brave knights. Peregrin raised his hands into the air and then there was silence.
"Now children, I know that you know about that particular story, but, have you ever wondered what happened afterward?"
"They lived happily and there was peace throughout the land?"
"Sauron never again saw the light of day?"
Other assumptions echoed through and the elderly hobbit once again called for silence.
"Would you all like to hear about what happened afterward?"
"Please!" the children called in unison.
Peregrin smiled and began his tale. "Well, after Mr. Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee climbed all the way up Mount Doom, after going trough all the torment and torture of carrying the Dark Lord's ring, they thought that all of their troubles would be over. But alas, they were mistaken, for in the far corners of Ephel Duath, or the Mountains of Shadow, a dark ritual was being held. There, a mighty sorceress was casting a spell to protect the Evil One's ring from the molten fiery pits of Mount Doom. This spell could only be broken by a sacred potion hidden deep to the north of Middle Earth, in the Iron Hills. Sauron, seeing his ring being flung into the volcano, gave up all of his hope for life, and his psyche plunged in the dark abyss of hatred from which he was shaped. But, right as the evil ring hit the lava, the spell took effect, and only a portion of it was damaged. The ring then traveled through the current of the lava and to the river of Poros, and was embedded in the soil near The Crossing of Poros. This is where our adventure begins..."
"Please Uncle!"
"Yes! Please tell us the story! Tell it again, please?"
"Come on Uncle Pippin! Tell it to us again!"
A warm chuckle emitted from the hobbit as he took a seat in his wicker rocking chair. "So you want to hear the story again?" he asked and several cheers sounded from the crowd of children gathered at his feet. He smiled and painted a puzzled look on his face. "Now, let's see if I can remember, what was this story about again?"
"It was about the king Aragorn!"
"Mr. Frodo and the ring, Uncle!"
"And the grand battles against the trolls and orcs!"
"Don't forget about the noble elves with their bows!"
Cheers surrounded the aging hobbit as the children each pointed out their favorite part of the story. The young boys acted out swordfights while the girls swooned over the brave knights. Peregrin raised his hands into the air and then there was silence.
"Now children, I know that you know about that particular story, but, have you ever wondered what happened afterward?"
"They lived happily and there was peace throughout the land?"
"Sauron never again saw the light of day?"
Other assumptions echoed through and the elderly hobbit once again called for silence.
"Would you all like to hear about what happened afterward?"
"Please!" the children called in unison.
Peregrin smiled and began his tale. "Well, after Mr. Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee climbed all the way up Mount Doom, after going trough all the torment and torture of carrying the Dark Lord's ring, they thought that all of their troubles would be over. But alas, they were mistaken, for in the far corners of Ephel Duath, or the Mountains of Shadow, a dark ritual was being held. There, a mighty sorceress was casting a spell to protect the Evil One's ring from the molten fiery pits of Mount Doom. This spell could only be broken by a sacred potion hidden deep to the north of Middle Earth, in the Iron Hills. Sauron, seeing his ring being flung into the volcano, gave up all of his hope for life, and his psyche plunged in the dark abyss of hatred from which he was shaped. But, right as the evil ring hit the lava, the spell took effect, and only a portion of it was damaged. The ring then traveled through the current of the lava and to the river of Poros, and was embedded in the soil near The Crossing of Poros. This is where our adventure begins..."
