Wendell, the Elder

Once you reach the age of twelve hundred, you’re likely to have a few stories to tell. Such is the case for Wendell. Unfortunately, many of the other folks living in the hills near Nonesuch Hollow see Wendell as a strange old creature who is not to be bothered. Of course by “not to be bothered” they mean “not to be trusted”.

Maybe the distrust is a result of the fact that no one really knows what he is. Is he a hobbit? His stature, furry hands and feet, fondness for the pipe, and clothing give many the impression that he is a hobbit. The few more worldly hill-folk (an oxymoron…I know) contest this assumption rather emphatically, citing the fact that hobbits cannot grow beards. Unless one assumes that he wears a fake beard, it is obvious that he must be a very old, very short elf of unusual pedigree…Or maybe some unknown breed of halfling.

While subject to debate amongst the adults, his breed, history, and peculiarities matter not to the hill-folk children. While many of the little ones have allowed there natural fear of the unknown (coupled with the vague warnings from their parents) to unconsciously steer them away from Wendell’s secluded property, there are always a few who know better.

These children who have, due to curiosity or a dare, ventured near enough to the old man to speak with him have always been invited to gather under his largest tree to hear a new, unusual, and fascinating story…Or maybe even witness a bit of magic!