I’m sure you, and many other people of this world know of hobbits and the famous tales of their adventures concerning elves, dragons, orcs, and of course wizards. But there is an extreme limit to those who know the story of four amazingly brave and adventurous hobbits. And in no way do I mean mister Frodo and his companions. They are closely tied with them though for they are the grandfathers of those very hobbits. No one knows the tale of Rorimac Brandybuck and his friends because they never told anyone; therefore it was never recorded. But there is one who knows the story, and is very eager to tell the world.
This story begins like any other, in a hole in the ground…
It was early afternoon and mister Rorimac was soon to sit down for tea, when he heard a rat-tat-tat on his door. Now if he were a Baggins, this hobbit would be somewhat irritated for being interrupted, (and for knocking and not ringing), though all hobbits love company. But being a Brandybuck, (the queer folk of the hobbit-kind), was quite delighted, for company could mean a number of things. It was seldom that any high-statured hobbits knocked on a Brandybucks door, for Brandybucks were much too queer for their taste, but today was an odd day. It happened to be midyears day in fact. Even Fosco Baggins wasn’t quite sure why he had gone to Buckland that day, for he seldom mixed with the Buckland-ers. Rorimac was even more surprised to find Fosco on his doorstep. He immediately invited them in, but still wondered why he had come. They sat down for tea and seed cakes, and Fosco cut right to business. He looked of into the distance and dreamily said,
“Dudo has reached a mature age, and I feel in the mood for a holiday!” Now if you knew mister Fosco you would be as dumbfounded as Rorimac. When Mr. Brandybucks found the sense to close his mouth and reply it was a simple answer.
“Where to Mr. Baggins?” Fosco thought for a minute and said,
“I’ve glanced at a few maps of my fathers and Fangorn sounds suitable.”
“Fangorn?” Rorimac pondered. ” I suppose it’s as good a place as any, when do you wish to leave?”
“As soon as possible, tomorrow will be perfect.”
“You sure are in a hurry, why so hasty?” Rorimac inquired. Flustered Fosco snapped
” I want to get an early start, and I’d appreciate no more investigating, thank you!” At that Rorimac was silent.
That night, Rorimac and Fosco went to The Green Dragon for what could be their last night in Hobbiton. Fosco was sitting at a table next to a traveler, Hobson Gamgee. Fosco was drunk enough to confide with Hobson his plans with Rorimac, and now Hobson was demanding to come. Do not ask me why he was so eager because I have no clue, it was an odd day. Fosco’s cousin, Adalgrim took, also a close friend to Rorimac had over-heard the talk of the trio’s supposed adventure and was very interested. Now, Adalgrim always had to be involved with what was going on, and was never going to turn down a good adventure. You must remember, Tooks were considered just a queer as Brandybucks.
The year was 1341 of the third age, and all four of our hobbits had families, as most hobbits of their age did. Now, this foursome weren’t as close as Frodo and his companions, for some of them had just met. Hobson wasn’t even from Hobbiton, he just happened to be in town that day by chance. Both Rorimac and Fosco were well aquatinted with aldagrim, as explained previously. He and Fosco were related and Rorimac was Aldagrim’s close friend. Now, the relationship between Fosco and Rorimac was quite different. Of course, Fosco knew who Rorimac was but usually avoided Rorimac for he was much too odd. Although the had no previous relationship they had become fast friends. I have no explanation for what caused Fosco’s sudden change of heart, but I assure you it happened. Now, all of our friends were sitting together, helping themselves to enormous amounts of ale and of course smoking pipe-weed while the night waned away. When the long night had ended, they stumbled back to Fosco’s home. They all stayed with Fosco that night, for if they expected to have an early leave they needed to stay together. The hobbits slept soundly through the night and woke to a warm, bright sun at dawn. Rorimac had slept late and when he woke he found that his friends had already started breakfast. Rorimac eagerly sat down to join. Once their stomachs were filled, they packed properly and headed out the door. Originally, they planned to go on foot but Aldagrim happened to own three ponies. Poor Hobson was to ride a mule for they didn’t have enough ponies. So they were off, trotting down the dusty path. It was a pleasant day, very sunny, with a delightful breeze every so often. They headed south and planned to cross the Brandywine River. At nightfall, they stopped to rest, with about a day and a half to the river. It was a very still night; not even a cricket could be heard. They slept under a large tree by a few smoldering embers of what was left of the dinner-fire. They slept quietly, with the occasional snort from Aldagrim. The moon crept slowly beyond the horizon. The welcoming sun rose and warmed their cheeks. One by one they awoke. After breakfast they were back on the road.