Many a day and many a night ago, as the ancients told time, there was a magical land that existed as if it had come straight out of a fantasy book. This magical world was called Middle Earth because it was in the middle of the earth. The reasons why there could be a sun and a moon in the middle of the earth were known only by the most learned and knowledgeable of the intelligent wizards, who kept their information written in scrolls. This was a mysterious time.
On this land, there dwelt the noble elves, pointed of ear and brave of heart. And there dwelt the hobbits, happy little people who were hirsute of foot. There were also dwarves, who were small like the hobbits, but upon whose feet there was a comparatively regular amount of hair. And there dwelt the humans, who were normal.
But one time, there was a very evil man named Sauron. He made himself a big, magic ring. It was the kind of ring that a handsome prince might give to his beloved on a summer's day long ago, after he had spent a long day slaying dragons and trolls with his mighty sword, and rescuing his fair maiden on horseback, and then going to a grassy field with yellow flowers, where they would sit and have a picnic. Then he would say to her that he loved her, and she would say that she loved him, and then he would give her the One Ring. It was called that because it was the one prettiest ring in all of Middle Earth. Then the handsome prince and the beautiful, flaxen-haired maiden would be married by a jolly friar, and they would live in a huge castle, with a moat and a drawbridge that would take you from the ground over the moat and into the castle.
There was a large war over Middle Earth, started by Sauron, the evil wizard. As he strode back and forth, looking at his troopers and their horses that were black of hair, he pondered how this had all come about. Was it not too long ago, he mused, that he first heard of the One Ring. . . .
"Eat your dinner, young man, or you will never grow up to be a strong knight like your father!" His mother always talked about his father, about how strong and important he was.
"But my sister got to go and play without finishing her dinner!"
"You leave Saureen out of this! She is a good girl, and you are very bad, very bad indeed!"
Sauron did not want to eat. All he could think about was how the boys at school had teased him that day. One of them said, "You'll never amount to anything when you grow up!" And then another one said, "You're so stupid, I bet you couldn't even make a magic ring so powerful that its magic could be used to conquer all the lands and people of Middle Earth, and rule over everything!"
One day, Sauron, thought, one day he would show them. He would show them ALL.
Then a mighty human, who was called Isildur, strode up to Sauron and they had a mighty fight. Isildur's skill at the sword was great, and Sauron considered him a worthy opponent. With one final surge of sinew and strength, the human slashed at Sauron with his broadsword, which had an intricately-carved design on the hilt, and cut Sauron's fingers right off!
"YYYEEAAAARRRGHHAARGGHAARRGHH! My fingers!!! " Sauron yelled, in great pain. But because one of the fingers that had been cut off had the One Ring on it, Sauron then vanished in an explosion, nevermore to be seen or heard from ever again.
Everyone was happy because the battle was at long last over, except Elrond. He would not be happy until he was back home in Rivendell, back home in his wonderful forest. "We must throw the ring into Mount Doom!" yelled Elrond, the king of the elves, whose golden crown glistened. "If we don't, no one will be safe, especially my beautiful daughter, whose name is Arwen!"
But Isildur did not throw the ring into the hot, lava-spewing Mount Doom, because he was greedy, and the ring had the power of greed creation, thus making Isildur even greedier. And then some other things happened, and Bilbo Baggins got the ring from a monster in a cave while on one of his many adventures with some amazing friends of his.
Listen, now, as our story begins. . . .