Running turned out to be a bad idea especially after eating that piece of meat; Baelo slowed to a walk clutching his stomach in pain. He looked back on a hill to see if he could find his Goblin followers but for the time they could not be spotted. He walked to the nearest stone and took a well needed rest. The sun was rising now and Baelo could now see the open plains and fields that lay before him. In the near distance he discovered what looked to be ruins of a lookout post on top of a mountain, he would journey there to get a better view of his surroundings.

He reached the foot of the hill to the ruins at sunset and began the climb. A strong sense of being watched fell over the Hobbit, he looked around and saw a growing number of black Ravens flying overhead and perching on a nearby tree. As he went around and up the hill it seemed as if the Ravens would follow. Baelo hurried his climb as the sun finally set behind the distant hills; he made the final climb to the top in the dark.

He found a fallen pillar to rest under and hopefully get some sleep for the night. His eyes began to close when he heard the sound of cries and yelps below the hill. Baelo cautiously looked below and could barely make out goblins fighting below the hill in the moonlight. Could these be the same goblins that were chasing me before? He thought. He looked closer down the hill and discovered the goblins were fending off the same crows that were giving him glares as ascended Weathertop.

Baelo turned back to the fallen pillar; he heard the goblins fighting with the crows in the distance as he kept watch from the shadows of the other crows nearby.

Baelo left Bree-town in good shape and good spirit but still took heed to his father’s advice and left the road heading into the Midgewater Marshes.

The Midgewater Marshes was a stingy place; the smell was horrid, frogs croaking in the distance, annoying nats and flies buzzing around. Though it was quite muggy Baelo tried to cover his face more with his cloak as he trudged through the marshes feeling the uncomfortable sweat roll down his body. His feet would dive into small dark pools of water and feel the slimy creatures and plant life beneath.

In the distance Baelo saw a campfire roaring and what looked to be a harder surface to rest on. As he crept closer he could make out figures around the fire hunched over enjoying a great feast. Nearer he drew closer until he could make the figures out to be goblins. Goblins were treacherous creatures but what was more treacherous at the time was the stomach ache Baelo had yearning for food.

Ever so quietly Baelo snuck into the camp listening to the Goblins munching on the roast, he spotted a slab of meat unattended on the ground. The aroma filled his nostrils with a pleasant taste he couldn’t deny any longer so he took it from the ground unnoticed. He placed the meat inside his bag and crept back away from the fires light. Testing his skill once more and fulfilling his curiosity Baelo snuck back behind a goblin and reached into his loose clothing to discover a couple silver coins Baelo claimed for himself.

Baelo snuck off unnoticed enjoying the slab of cooked meat until he heard a cry in the distance and harsh words being exchanged back and forth between goblins. “They must have discovered those missing coins or maybe that meat…” Immediately Baelo remembered smell being his enemy in the past when he was chased by the bear in Bindbole Woods and fear of the goblins following the meat scent frightened him and he took off running toward the Weather Hills.

Baelo came in and out of consciousness throughout the next day. Birds landed near him, foxes sniffed around him, insects fed upon him. He heard a song being played in the distance and faintly saw a beautiful young women plucking gently away on the strings of her lute before losing consciousness again.

The next time he awoke he saw the sky and he was no longer in the forest, he was on horseback. It wasn’t until the late watches when Baelo finally came to his senses inside The Prancing Pony.

He looked up at the ceiling lying in a bed; he could feel his right arm again and move it though it was a bit sore. He managed to sit up and look around the unfamiliar room to see an odd looking fat man staring right back at him. He went by the name Barliman Butterbur and explained to Baelo that a minstrel came by with him and nursed him back to health.

“She left in haste soon after you were put to bed but she didn’t tell me why,” Barliman said.

“I wonder if I’ll ever be able to thank her…”

“Well, she has dark orange hair that fell to her shoulders, freckles like she has been kissed by the sun, a beautiful white dress and flower corset in her hair but I can’t imagine finding her would be easy…”

Baelo remembered the beautiful song he heard but as hard as he tried he couldn’t remember the face. He thanked Mr. Butterbur and left the Prancing Pony in good health heading eastward again toward the mountains; into the Lone Lands. He hummed the song played by the mysterious minstrel hoping she would hear.

Deeper he walked into the forest anticipating an exit that didn’t seem to come anytime soon.  The sun was setting and the forest was overtaken by darkness.  To Baelo’s surprise he found a rather large stone formation that was alien to him, it appeared to be a shelter where he could stay for the night which gave him a breath of joy; not having to lay out in the open another night.  He leaned up against the mountain side inside the stone shelter, pulled his cloak around for a blanket and began to dream in the rather unusually quiet forest. 

Multiple quakes awoke Baelo that shook the ground underneath him.  He ran outside the shelter hearing the quakes getting closer and closer until a large figure began to appear over the hill.  A beast that Baelo only heard of in tales that were said to not exist anymore but here was one now staring down at him, a Giant.  The Giant had large fiery eyes, muscles and hands the size of Baelo’s torso. 

The Giant let out a roar that sent shivers of fear down Baelo’s body crippling him at the knees.  Very slowly he drew his dagger and stepped back.  The Giant was so large he only came up to his ankles and for every ten steps Baelo would take it would seem the Giant took one. 

Not wanting to stay around to find out what was next Baelo tried to escape which proved useless to the Giant as he grabbed him with one hand scooping him up from the ground.  Every bone in Baelo’s body began to crunch, it was the most pain he’s ever felt in his life, he slashed his dagger downward, in defense, into the Giants hand freeing him and falling down to the ground.  The Giant gave out another mighty roar and hit Baelo with his other hand sending him into a nearby tree.  Baelo sank to the ground nearly beaten with bruises but the Giant ran towards him with full speed. 

Baelo being so short felt like he was only fighting the feet of the giant but quickly thought of this as being a slight advantage.  As the giant came in with another fist Baelo rolled out of the way and ran underneath the Giant bringing him behind the Giant.  With a forceful slash with all his might he slashed the back of the ankle of the beast ripping into his Achilles tendon. 

 A large snap like the strings breaking from a lute was heard throughout the forest followed by a blood curdling scream from the Giant as he staggered on one leg to the hill side and propped himself upon it.  Baelo’s adrenaline was pumping now, he no longer felt the pain he experienced and he let out a mighty scream in return that would rival any Man in all of Bree-land. He knew he was on the offensive, bringing the giant to one knee he slashed again with all his might on the right ankle this time sending the giant to the ground.  The Giant flailed around and managed to catch Baelo in his hands again and threw him against his stone shelter.  This brought the pain back into Baelo, he had the wind knocked out of him and could no longer feel his right arm and switched his dagger to his left.  He lay there for a moment as the Giant tried to regain footing but bleeding out from his ankle wounds.  Baelo had but one chance to finish this and he took it.  Battered and bruised he cautiously ran up onto the Giants back and placed himself behind his neck.  Baelo’s dagger tasted blood one last time as he threw his body upon it as he plunged it down in the Giant’s neck.  The forest went quiet as Baelo staggered off the Giant and blacked out from the returning agony that he was in. 

He was far from the Shire, far from Bree-town, here he lies next to a once thought mystical creature that he has slain, hope from his journey began to fade into the dark.  He never planned on this but he was thankful for the Dwarf that gave him that dagger.  

If Baelo would have been a bit more sober he would have remembered just how close Scary was to Brockenborings and he would have remembered it was straight at the crossroad and not right.  Off into the Bridgefields he stumbled and zig-zagged.  He stumbled around until he discovered an abandoned campsite, figuring he wasn’t going to reach Scary anytime soon he laid down for a nap.

He awoke early the next morning wondering why he wasn’t in Scary or at least see it somewhere around him.  He continued to walk eastward in the direction he thought Scary was in without knowing he was actually far past and on his way towards the Brandywine. 

It couldn’t have been a better day for him to ease his mind from last night at the Plough and Stars but he did wish he just stayed there for the night, “what was such the big rush anyhow?” he thought.  Over the next hill he paused in amazement when he found himself looking at nothing else but the Brandywine River.  Upon reaching the rivers edge he peered to the South but couldn’t see the Brandywine Bridge, more and more he realized he should have just bedded down at the Plough and Stars because now he was far from where he planned, but was at the Brandywine nonetheless.

Figuring it was a nice day for a swim and instead of finding the bridge he decided to make the swim across the river to an old fishing dock.  The water was clear and cool as ice but it was refreshing after sleeping in the wilderness the previous night.

Baelo headed into the woods in the Brandy Hills which was a mistake he was soon to regret that would push him to his limit and think if this was all worth the trouble.  

It was a bright, sunny, clear day with birds chirping in the distance, the wind; nice and cool when suddenly the peace and reality of where Baelo was set in suddenly by a Plough and Stars patron, “Hullo there!”

Rising slowly, aching from his fall Baelo muttered, “Where am I?”

“Brockenborings! But I should really say the Plough and Stars Inn since you are directly on top of it”

“Well isn’t that just lucky, but what time is it?” Baelo questioned.

“Half past 7. We heard a boom last night, we did, but figured it was just one fat squirrel jumping on the roof, I knew it was something else so I decided to have a look-see this morning, and whatya know? ‘Tis a Hobbit!”

“Yeah, well, thanks for your concern but I should really be on my way, I should be on my way to Scary”

“At least let me buy you a pint! It’s not often a Hobbit falls from the sky, maybe it’s an omen for good to come, come on in!”

Baelo couldn’t turn down the nice patron and a pint, maybe something that can ease his sore back from sleeping on a roof.  Baelo went in and told the patron his tale thus far and his bear scare he had the previous night but failed to tell him about stealing the piece of pie.  Baelo enjoyed the hospitality of the Hobbits in the Plough and Stars with dance contests for a fair Hobbit lass

and singing new songs the Hobbits of Brockenborings have never heard which earned him another free round of fine ale.

Feeling a bit light hearted and realizing he should move on he decided to make for Scary.    

“You be careful out there lad! Not sure why you’d want to leave such a beautiful place for made-up treasure in the mountains but you be sure to stop by for another pint on your way back,” the patron exclaimed.  Baelo followed the road (as best as he could after one too many pints) towards Scary in the cool evening breeze with a full stomach and hopeful heart.

Baelo reached Hobbiton midday and thought if he didn’t stop anywhere to sight-see he could reach Brockenborings by nightfall as planned.  As he walked through Hobbiton something caught his nose, the sweet smell of a blackberry pie cooling off on a picnic table.  His stomach began to rumble and he did realize he hadn’t eaten since last night at Waymeet.  Baelo used his acquired “talent” to sneak a piece of this pie that was tantalizing his nose hairs.

“Just this once,” he thought to himself.

Baelo did what, unfortunately, he was best at; not being seen.  He snuck around the house and saw the pie sitting on the picnic table.  He drew out his dagger oh so quietly and began to cut into the luscious and juicy pie.  His mouth was watering now and he could almost taste it as if it was in his mouth at that single moment.  He picked up the piece and ran as fast as he could out of sight and up the hill out of Hobbiton thinking he may be pursued.  When he realized he wasn’t being followed he felt pretty highly of himself, almost untouchable and figured he would take a shortcut through the Bindbole Woods to reach Brockenborings faster. 

The sun was setting now as Baelo wandered through Bindbole Woods eating that excellent blackberry pie.  The darkness slowly crept into the woods and Baelo’s hope for reaching Brockenborings began to fade when he slowly began to realize he has lost his way.  Realizing he wasn’t going to make it to Brockenborings in time and he didn’t want to wander into the woods anymore during nightfall he found a nice place to lie down for the night and finish his pie. 

His eyes began to feel heavy and he slowly was drifting to sleep until he heard the faint sound of sniffing and footsteps in the distance.  He looked up to see a brown bear on his way towards his camp.  Baelo got up slowly and faded into the shadow of the nearest tree but the bears smell was too keen and seemed to walk directly in his direction.  “It must have been that pie,” he thought as he backed slowly to the next tree when suddenly a twig snapped from under his foot.  The bear paused and looked up to discover a Hobbit standing as still as a statue in front of him and being the source of this sweet smell he has been following.  Baelo drew his dagger but the bear gave a mighty roar that sent shivers down his spine almost crippling him in fear.  Realizing he may be outgunned Baelo turned and ran deeper into the forest.  The bear gave chase and was catching up to the lost Hobbit.  Baelo heard running water and thought if he could just cross the river the bear may just stop. 

He jumped from rock to rock crossing the river but looking back he saw the bear stride over the river like it was but a mere puddle in his way.  Baelo ran as fast as he could, practically feeling the breath from the bear behind him when he reached a cliff at the end of a hill, without hesitation, he jumped.  Baelo came crashing down on a roof, looking up he saw the bear stop just short of the cliff, give another mighty roar and walk away.  Feeling paralyzed from the fall Baelo closed his eyes and drifted into a dream.  What he didn’t know is that he landed directly on the roof of the Plough and Stars Inn, right on time, as planned.

Baelo started North towards Hobbiton where he would then proceed to Brockenborings, Scary then finally to the Brandywine River where he would be far North away from the Old Forest taking heed to his fathers advice. 

He had hoped to get to Hobbiton before getting too tired but he soon realized he was more out of shape (for a Hobbit) than he thought and had to bed down in Waymeet for the remainder of the night.  

He met some interesting people in Waymeet even some Dwarves, on their way back to Thorins Hall, that told him tales of endless treasure in the mountains which only got Baelo more excited about his adventure but they also mentioned the dangers he could encounter.  He never really thought about the dangers too much, just what his father had told him to avoid. The Dwarves thought it was quite hysterical for a lone Hobbit to be traveling to the mountains with no means to defend himself. 

Exhausted and a little irritated from the Dwarves, Baelo excused himself and decided to bed down for the night to get an early start for Hobbiton in the morning and possibly reach Brockenborings by nightfall.

Upon leaving in the morning one of the Dwarves met Baelo as he was packing up his supplies and gave him a small dagger for protection.  “Young lad, if you really mean to travel to the mountains for treasure, you’ll thank me later for this dagger”.  The dagger gleamed brightly under the sun and appeared to have markings Baelo was not familiar with.

Baelo thanked the Dwarf. Though, he was still a bit skeptical about the “dangers” he set off to Brockenborings hoping to arrive ahead of schedule in time to pay a visit to The Plough and Stars Inn.

Baelo did exactly what he meant to do the next morning. He told his father.  Though, he was quite displeased with him and didn’t believe in “hidden treasures” tucked in the mountains he had faith in Baelo and wanted him to go see Middle Earth for what it’s worth rather than farm until the end of his days.

He began packing in the afternoon in silence re-thinking what he really is trying to prove and if it’s worth the hassle.  What route will I take?  What are the dangers I face outside the Shire?  Will I even make it out of the Shire?  Will there be time for 2^nd breakfast?  He couldn’t just say no now.  He had to prove to the Bounders he was something more than a farmer, he had to do this for his family and for himself.  Before he finished packing his father came in and leaned up against door.

“I wouldn’t want you to have to travel in those old, worn overalls so I want you to have these”. He swung his hands from behind his back revealing a tattered black and white tunic.  “It definitely isn’t new but it’s what I used to wear when I had to travel for supplies; nice and lightweight.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the concern, but I don’t even have a clue where to go after I leave the Shire,” Baelo said with concern.

“Avoid the Old Forest and Barrow-Downs, stay off the roads in Breeland, make your way to Rivendell and from there you’ll know, the mountains will be right in front of you.”

Baelo finished packing and had his final dinner with his family that evening before he decided to leave that night.  Any other Hobbit may have chosen to leave early the next morning but Baelo liked the night sky in the Shire, walking under the moonlight as the cool breeze passed beside him.  He said his final farewells, heard his good lucks, took one last look at his homestead, turned around, and began his journey.  

Baelo was a simple hobbit growing up on a farm outside Michel Delving.  He always dreamed of joining the ranks of the Bounders but no Hobbit in the Shire would see to it since he was just a poor simple farmer.  Baelo learned the art of swordplay to prove his worth to the Bounders but his poor reputation kept him out of their ranks. 

He felt he had to prove something, prove he was destined to be greater than just a farm boy; go on an adventure of some sort, collect treasures in a faraway land like he has heard Bilbo Baggins once do in his romanticized tales. 

He couldn’t just leave the farm though; leave his life in the Shire so easily.  His family needed him for more than just farming.  Baelo acquired the skill of sneaking and stealing from locals to provide for his family.  He was never caught or heard, he was good at what he did, but it wasn’t something he wanted to continue.  He tried to learn power through music like the minstrels he has heard about in stories but his chubby fingers and lack of patience kept him from mastering the art. 

He had to do something. Something that would let him live a better life amongst the Bounders of the Shire and turn away from his life of stealing for his family. 

He would tell his father tomorrow. He was leaving to find treasure in mountains, in faraway lands, and would return one day with treasures so large to own every farm land in the Shire.  Tomorrow, he would feel new soil between his toes.