There once lived a hobbit in a hole. This hobbit was simply an ordinary hobbit, partaking in nothing peculiar and did many of the activities found perfectly normal amongst fellow hobbits. What is there not to enjoy in the finer activities in life? There was nothing better than simply enjoying a good meal, smoking on one's pipe and toiling in the garden on a summer afternoon.

This hobbit in particular was named Bilbo Baggins and he resided within a hill, his house crafted in the most typical of ways. The front door was of sturdy walnut, carved in a circular style and the house and its décor were styled in a cozy fashion. Bilbo could often be found sitting in his favorite armchair besides the hearth of his fire reading his books and carrying himself deep into contemplation.

A boring and meaningless life to some, Bilbo, in addition to most hobbits, enjoyed this quiet lifestyle. One could expect the day's occurrences. One could expect that nothing unexpected was to happen and each and every day brought about a comforting sense of familiarity and predictability. To desire a different lifestyle would brand you both foolish and odd.

On this day in particular, Bilbo could not be found resting within the solitude of his armchair. Instead he could be found enjoying a beautiful day on a bench in front of his home, his eyes closed and a pipe within his hand. It would be on this particular day that Bilbo's very ordinary life would quite suddenly become extraordinary.

As smoke left Bilbo's lips from the latest drag he took from his long pipe, he kept his eyes closed to fully immerse himself in the combination of smoke and the fresh Shire air. Though such immersion then came to a rather impulsive halt as his smoked took on the odd formation of a moth, fluttering to him and flicking him unexpectedly against his nose.

Brought back to reality, Bilbo opened his eyes and looked to the tall figure that now stood before him. The elderly man wore long gray robes and a tall pointed hat. Though this confused him, Bilbo was a hobbit of decided decorum and simply said, "Good morning."

The man, whom possessed a long gray beard, finally spoke, "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" He looked down to the hobbit and further questioned, "Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Poor Bilbo had never received such a lengthy answer at any time prior, his eyes narrowed as he thought to himself which scenario was correct and could only come to one final conclusion, "All of them at once, I suppose."

The old man eyed the hobbit, his stare watching him with what appeared to be some variety of disapproval. Bilbo could feel such sentiments but remained puzzled, for he, for the life of him, could not figure out who this man was. Bilbo peered side to side as if it might warrant an explanation, thought when none came he asked him, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." The old man swallowed. "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The stranger stood silently for a moment, his hands clasped tightly around his staff, which to Bilbo's eyes looked like nothing more than a common walking stick.

"An adventure?" Bilbo's eyes narrowed once more, repeating the old man's words as if not fully comprehending their meaning. However, upon realizing that the elder was quite serious, Bilbo became unmistakably perturbed and accusatory. "Now, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." To combat such uneasiness, Bilbo stood and walked with wide strides to his mailbox, "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner, mhmm."

Bilbo pulled out the contents of his mailbox and began to sort through the various letters one by one, grumbling beneath his breath while his pipe remained clenched between his teeth. As he noticed the tall man continued to stand before his gate, Bilbo remained ever anxious and turned around to walk himself inside. "Good morning," he simply stated once more to maintain an assured level of propriety.

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