(no subject)
The terrible thing about getting ready to die, Bilbo thought, is that there is really no good way to go about it on short notice. It was all very well to prepare for it in old age, tucked up snug and safe in one's own hobbit hole, but it was quite another to be faced with death on a battlefield where even a magic ring is of little practical use.
Still, if one had to make a relatively glorious final stand, there were worse places to make it than with Gandalf and the elves of Mirkwood. Despite how far he had come from his days of cozy respectability in Hobbiton, I am afraid there was still something of the romantic in Mr. Baggins, and just the thought of dying among so many fair and noble beings was enough to make him a bit more comfortable. Comfortable, but not entirely courageous, for he still took the first chance he could to slip on his ring and take advantage of its magic.
It was because of his ring that he was almost entirely unnoticed at one of his most critical moments. For, just when all seemed most hopeless, Bilbo's keen eyes spotted something off in the distance. He could not be certain of it at first, but... Yes! Yes, it was the eagles! He jumped up and down, crying out in his shrill voice, "The eagles! The eagles! The eagles are coming!" He continued dancing about like a madman, quite forgetting for the moment that he was still invisible and no one could see him. But if they could not see him they heard him and the cry soon went up among the elves as well. Bilbo kept yelling, almost overcome with the wonderful thought that he and his companions might not die after all. His joy came to a swift end, however, when a goblin on the side of the mountain sent a rock hurtling down that just happened to catch Bilbo on his helm with a resounding crack, and he knew no more.
When he finally came to, Bilbo's head was pounding unbearably, almost to the point where he could barely think. He groaned and sat up, taking off his helm and gingerly feeling about his curly head to make certain that nothing was irreversibly damaged. At last satisfied that no harm had truly been done, he began to truly look about him for the first time. Wherever he was, it most certainly was not Ravenhill.
[OOC: One hobbit, newly arrived, a bit knocked about, and still under the impression that he is invisible. Feel free to find him anywhere I guess?]
Still, if one had to make a relatively glorious final stand, there were worse places to make it than with Gandalf and the elves of Mirkwood. Despite how far he had come from his days of cozy respectability in Hobbiton, I am afraid there was still something of the romantic in Mr. Baggins, and just the thought of dying among so many fair and noble beings was enough to make him a bit more comfortable. Comfortable, but not entirely courageous, for he still took the first chance he could to slip on his ring and take advantage of its magic.
It was because of his ring that he was almost entirely unnoticed at one of his most critical moments. For, just when all seemed most hopeless, Bilbo's keen eyes spotted something off in the distance. He could not be certain of it at first, but... Yes! Yes, it was the eagles! He jumped up and down, crying out in his shrill voice, "The eagles! The eagles! The eagles are coming!" He continued dancing about like a madman, quite forgetting for the moment that he was still invisible and no one could see him. But if they could not see him they heard him and the cry soon went up among the elves as well. Bilbo kept yelling, almost overcome with the wonderful thought that he and his companions might not die after all. His joy came to a swift end, however, when a goblin on the side of the mountain sent a rock hurtling down that just happened to catch Bilbo on his helm with a resounding crack, and he knew no more.
When he finally came to, Bilbo's head was pounding unbearably, almost to the point where he could barely think. He groaned and sat up, taking off his helm and gingerly feeling about his curly head to make certain that nothing was irreversibly damaged. At last satisfied that no harm had truly been done, he began to truly look about him for the first time. Wherever he was, it most certainly was not Ravenhill.
[OOC: One hobbit, newly arrived, a bit knocked about, and still under the impression that he is invisible. Feel free to find him anywhere I guess?]