Hobbit Bard Novels & Stories

The first thing I was greeted with was a tomato flying my way which went past me to a man behind me. Did I mention these people had amazing throwing skills? I walked up to an inn that was known to have stables and I was met with a little dwarf. "Welcome milady. A fine girl you got there." Hobbit said as I dropped two gold coins in his hands. "Cut the nonsense Hobbit. If you did what you tried to do to my horse next time, I'll slit your throat and sell your organs to buy my girl back." I threatened as he rubbed his hands and laughed.

Boro turned back to the plate of roasted chicken, potatoes and rice placed in front of him and ate his dinner all while entranced by the music. As soon as he was done eating, Boro waited for the song to finish and the two to take a break. He asked the bar woman, Rendra, for two more mugs of beer. She looked at the mug in front of him, still more then half full and then grinned. "The knarled man playing at bard is Evin by the way" Rendra informed him. "He treats Isbella like his daughter so watch your manners. If I hear anything about you being vulgar with her... Not even that sword will protect you"

Ichabod smiled and raised his, “To …Odin.” Harmony looked surprised, “Odin? Your costume has a name?” He nodded. “Yea he does.” “Well then to Odin.” She replied touching her cup to his before they both gulped down their drink. Ichabod was enjoying this moment. They were sitting so close together at the bar with their knees almost touching. “You know, no one has ever done what you did for us tonight Ichabod.” She said after a while, looking straight at him. “Thank you.” She said, smiling and looking into his ocean blue eyes.

With such a ridiculous pointy hat, the cloak would have made him look impressive like Gandalf The White. The cameraman soon came in lugging his tools and a heavy bag with him. I became more attentive since it seemed the show was finally about to start. A file was handed over to the Hobbit Elder who then began to read... "This is the impeachment proper of Thor Silver, the Alpha of the Silver-moon pack..." "Wait, wait, wait, what!? Is this some kind of sick joke?" I ask toward Eric in disbelief before turning back to the old bastards. "You're here to impeach me?" This is unbelievable.

as an account of his journey. 2,600 years ago, when the people of Decarabian rebelled, led by the Nameless Bard Barbatos (then known as "the Elf"), the Decarabian 's former lover Amos, and the Red-haired Warrior, when Clan Brunilderin, led by his current namesake Brunilderin, also takes part in the battle.

His voice was like scraping knives Disregarding the skin desperately in need of moisturizer, I instantly hated Dumah. “He isn't Miss Manners either,” I scoffed. “So what are you? A Nazgul? Is Samael Sauron and I some wayward hobbit?” Dumah wheezed with laughter. “ITS BRAINS ARE ADDLED, I SEE. KNOCK IT ABOUT ONE TOO MANY TIMES ON THE DEATHBED, ROT LORD?”

And right before I step through the door, I turn around to take one last look at my prison. I swear I will never come back here anymore. The guard chats a little as he guides me through the dim passageway and I follow him like a shadow. He tells me his name is Gimli, just like the dwarf from the Lord of the Rings. Gimli is nice and I take an instant liking to him. “You know, that waiter who claimed you poisoned Lord Ezra? Well, turns out he was the one who did it.” Huh? What is he talking about? So Ezra was poisoned by someone else?

Lobo said, smiling as if he had walked into a play written for his victory. “The rejected Luna finds a crown beneath servants’ feet, and Bardolph stands ready to guard her again like a trained dog.” Bardolph moved before anyone else did. Not far. One step. Enough for the room to feel his Alpha blood rise like thunder behind his skin. “Choose your next words carefully,” Bardolph said, and his voice was quiet enough to make the warning more dangerous. Lobo laughed, looking around the lower house as if the room itself was beneath his boots. “That is the trouble with you now, Bardolph,” he said.

*Thanks for the support, assholes. Two massive black horses waited at the tree line, reins held by a scarred warrior with a thick beard and eyes like flint. He went by the name Matthías Bjarnason. I'd heard the name whispered in pack rumors. He was Gunnar's second, the one who crushed rebellions for fun. He gave me one look, snorted, and tossed the reins to Gunnar without a word. "Mount up," Gunnar told me. No explanation. Just that low growl of a voice that made my stomach twist in ways I hated.

So why was this one so far from home? The elf turned, and Rhychard was right; the elf was younger; at least, younger than the elves Rhychard had seen. "Oh, my. It's you! It's really, really you." The elf's voice was higher than Kendalais's had been, and his hair and slanted eyebrows held a child's luster to them. The minute he turned and saw Rhychard, his face took on an excited glow, making Rhychard even more nervous. "This is an honor, indeed. Imagine me, a lowly apprentice, standing here in the flesh with the only human Warrior in history, Rhychard Bartlett. Oh my, oh my." The elf rubbed his palms together, and Rhychard suddenly felt like a turkey dinner in a room full of hungry relatives