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The Fellowship Of The Rings

The Fellowship Of The Rings
J.R.R Tolkien
As the story begins we find the lovable Bilbo Baggins having his going
away birthday party. He would leave his precious magic ring behind him and
leave for Alderaun. 17 years would pass and the ring remains under the safe-
keep of Bilbo’s nephew, Frodo Baggins. Gandalf Stormcrow has returned and has
need of one from the shire. The both discuss the workings and the history of
the ring. And conclude that one thing must be done. Frodo and his party must
journey to the land of Mordor, where the shadows lie. And destroy the ring by
which the very fires from which it was once forged.

And so the quest begins, steered by Gandalf and Frodo’s party of Sam,
Mary, and Pippin. Together they travel the winding roads and through a great
blizzard until nightfall. Where warmth and comfort are found in a local tavern.

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The Hobbits were well to entertain and were taken notice by a man, a warrior
by the name of Strider. He took aim on their quest and was reluctant to aid in
their cause. Gandalf had departed them to seek the wisdom of another wizard.

With Strider and the remaining party they traveled the broad expanse if terrain.

Where they would befriend new adventurers along the way. Many a time would they
be tempted to misuse the ring. But Frodo’s will held strong. Up unto the
climax of events, when the ring raids came to take what once belonged to them.

In a moment of weakness, Frodo placed the ring on his finger. He vanished from
his party’s sight. “Take the ring off Frodo!”, they yelled. But he was frozen
in his steps. Determind to get it they approached him. In a brave attempt to
protect the ring, Frodo ran up to them, held the sting high in the air,
attempting to strike one of them. But he failed. And instead he took a wound
in his side. He then somehow managed to mount back on his horse and ride away
across a shallow stream. All that separated them now was the stream. “The ring,
the ring..”, carried through the crowd of riders. Frodo was weary, he shouted
out, “By all the Shire you will have neither I nor the ring! Go back to the
land of Mordor and follow me no more!”. Then by some magic the waters in the
stream gathered and seemed to come alive into huge horse-like wave. And it
swallowed the riders as they attempted to cross. Washing them away down river.

He had beaten them this time. But their tortured souls would find new hosts,
new bodies. And would come again in greater numbers. All was silent, and when
Frodo regained all consciousness he found himself in a warm, well-rested bed.

Uncle Bilbo at his side.

And thus the story continues, in BOOK II.


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