Kev2012
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Hobo's Great Adventure (part 2)
Title: House of Satan's Son
Author: Kevin Martin
Rated: 18+ (violence and graphic descriptions)
Author's note: Couldn't sleep so wrote this, no offence if you are relegious. Very raw, just finished now, needs editing but i got work, talk to you all later.
Hobo knew Harpickerdo was a marvellous mushroom site, it was normally full of your more regular mushrooms, sometimes it would have a few of the rarer fungi types, but Boletus Edulis, well that was almost unheard of! The smell was sending Hobo wild, his taste buds were cartwheeling; the saliva was building in his mouth forming a crescendo of joy. Slowly he rose to his feet, but it was at that time another of his senses interjected his thoughts. He was suddenly aware of a profound silence; the mindless babble from the pensioners had stopped. He opened his eyes with a certain degree of trepidation welling inside; this feeling soon surged and gushed out of his mouth with a yelp. All 6 pensioners had completely vanished.
For a few seconds Hobo assumed he had drifted off, it wouldn’t be the first time he had fallen asleep in the middle of the day and dreamt of Boletus Edulis, he pinched himself in hope. Nope, he was wide-awake! Heaven knows what the other Hobbits would do to him if he lost ALL the Hobbit pensioners, an ASBO would be the least of Hobo’s worries!
“Pensioners?” he quizzed politely, at this time cursing the fact he had never taken the time to learn their names! “PENSIONERS!?” he shouted, unable to hide the desperation and panic from his voice! No reply.
He stood silent for several seconds, straining his ears with all his worth. Not a sound could be heard, then a stick snapped behind Hobo with a piercing twang. He spun in an instant. The sight that befell his eyes was not what he expected. It wasn’t the pensioners, nor a regular Mirkwood dwelling beast, it was an Elf!
The Elf stood with a quizzical expression across his face. “Well, I was aware that Hobbits were an odd creature, but I never knew they were this strange. Standing in the centre of Mirkwood screaming “Pensioners!” very peculiar!” The Elf gave a mischievous grin.
Now, it’s at this moment I should tell you to banish all preconceived notions of Elves. They are beautiful creatures, that part history has gotten right, but they are not particularly magical or completely good. Elves, well at least most of the Elves in this part of Middle-Earth, are childish, impish and entirely unpredictable! From one to the next, you can never tell if an Elf is being nice or naughty and one thing is for sure, every Elf has its price.
But in this instance there was no time for Hobo to waste; he was going to chance his luck that the Elf would offer his assistance. This Elf, as fate would have it, came across as a rather nice Elf. He asked Hobo to explain what had happened and without further ado Hobo went into a detailed account of events leading up to the pensioners disappearance, how he got captivated by the smell of Boletus Edulis, and when he opened his eyes all the Hobbit pensioners had gone. The Elf, through the stories entirety, stood with a thoughtful look on his face. Every so often his long blonde hair would whip across his face, caught in a gust of wind, or his eyes would twinkle, like a tiny light bulb was being flicked on and off. Finally, as Hobo finished his monologue, the Elf spoke.
“It seems quite clear to me,” He began, his voice crisp and clear, “I would imagine that the Hobbit pensioners also smelt Boletus Edulis.” He paused, adding suspense to proceedings, “and I would be willing to bet a large sum of gold, that they couldn’t withstand their urge, and are on the way to locate it, and most likely eat it, as we speak!”
Hobo nodded in agreement, it seemed the logical explanation to things. Without a moment of hesitation or thought, he let his nose take over. His head arched slowly backwards to give his nostrils a more prominent angle for sniff and locate. And that’s what happened, Hobo’s nose led the way, trailing behind was Hobo and following him, in close quarters, was the Elf.
To this day, Hobo didn’t know why a sudden trepidation took hold of him, just as he was closing in on Boletus Edulis, but a simple reaction turned out to be a vital one. He stopped under the last few trees in the forest, before it became the clearing that was Harpickerdo, where the light was once again victorious over darkness, the trees thinned away and a lush green meadow spread as far as the eyes could see, slowly he moved his hand over his hunting dagger. The simple hunting dagger was only 6inches long, it was a weapon that most Hobbits carried ‘case they encountered a Wild Boar or alike while out and about. It was during this pause; while Hobo surveyed the surrounding landscape that he felt two hands place on his back and shove him forward. In an instance the ground whipped away from Hobo as he spun upside down and was hoisted high into the trees. A rope lasso around his ankles. He had walked, or rather been pushed, into a trap!
As Hobo was wrenched from the floor, he could here the wicked Elf’s voice echoing around the forest. “One thing you can guarantee about a Hobbit is his nose will get him in trouble.” He gave an evil chuckle. “The Cave Troll promised me five pieces of gold for each Hobbit I caught, and with mushroom season now upon us, what better place to catch me a Hobbit or 7 than Harpickerdo?” The elf’s chuckle became a rumbling laughter.
But Hobo’s trepidation turned out to be his saving grace. It was as he was shoved, that he slipped the dagger out of its sheath, and it was as he swung back and forth, that he used the dagger to cut through the rope snare that had entwined his legs. He didn’t think about the fall, and the height in which he was falling from, and as fait would have it he need not worry about that fact. The fall was a rather substantial one, nearly 40ft, but the landing was inadvertently soft. The poor elf that bore the weight of Hobo as he landed didn’t stand a chance. The capturer thus became the squashed!
Hobo rolled back onto his feet and didn’t even need to look to know the devious Elf was dead. He heard the bones crack as he landed! His thoughts, once again, turned to the Hobbit Pensioners, had they already perished? Were they too snared in one of that horrid Elf’s traps? Elsewhere in the woods? As it turned out, Hobo didn’t have to wait long for the answers.
A voice came from above, “Nice work laddie, now are you gonna get us down from here?”
Hobo looked up, and could see 6 Hobbits, dangling unceremoniously upside-down from more of the Elf’s traps. One by one he cut the Hobbits free and carried them down from the trees on his shoulder. Once all six pensioners were down, Hobo was exhausted. He sat, gasping for breath with his back to a tree. He took wheezy deep breath after wheezy deep breath, his lungs failing to grasp the quantity of air that his body needed. It was during this moment that he vowed to change his ways, he would become a healthier Hobbit, no more Scrumpy John days, no more bingeing on sweets and candy, and much more physical activity. The adrenaline rush of the encounter with the Elf had faded off, every muscle in Hobo’s body ached and slowly he drifted off to sleep.
Copyright of Kevin Martin 2006
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Apr/29/2007, 8:51 pm
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