Chissa Underhill Battle of Five Armies & The Third Age of Middle-Earth The current year for our Middle-Earth campaign is set during the year of 2946 of the Third Age. Inspired By J.R.R. Tolkien

Chissa Underhill is a hobbit with a twinkle in her blue eyes and a dusting of flour on her cheeks, a quiet rebel whose adventurous spirit is a tightly held secret. Her family in the Shire, the respectable Underhills, are known for dwelling in homes built beneath a hill, their lives as orderly and predictable as the turning of the seasons. They are distant cousins to the famous Baggins family, a connection that Chissa found both a blessing and a burden. While she appreciated the quiet life the Shire offered, a part of her yearned for something more, a feeling she inherited from a long-lost great-aunt who once spoke of the wider world.

The Shire, with all its comfort, eventually began to feel too small for Chissa's burgeoning dreams. The endless chatter of genealogies and the quiet disapproval of anything "unexpected" wore on her. It wasn't the peace she minded, but the lack of pepper, both in conversation and in cuisine. She packed a small bag, leaving behind the rolling green hills and the disapproving clucks of her older relatives, and set off on the East Road towards the promise of new faces and new flavors. Her destination was the ancient settlement of Bree, a place known for its crossroads and a mix of Men, Dwarves, and even a few other Hobbits who didn't mind a little adventure.

Bree was a revelation, its bustling streets and varied folk a stark contrast to the insular Shire life. It was here, on the outskirts of the main village, that Chissa found her calling and a small, charming location for her new venture. She named it "Chissa's Patisserie Shoppe," a name that hinted at the delicate, sweet creations she crafted with expert care. Unlike the hearty, plain fare of the local inns, her shop offered something different, something that quickly became the talk of the town among the residents and travelers alike.

Her shoppe quickly became a popular spot, a warm and inviting haven from the road. She served delicate blackberry tarts, sweet honey nut cakes, and light, flaky pastries that melted in the mouth, all accompanied by fragrant, warm tea or a splash of mulled cider. The locals, accustomed to hearty fare like mutton and barley soup, were at first bewildered, but soon became loyal customers, drawn in by the delicious scents and Chissa's welcoming smile. Even Barliman Butterbur, the busy innkeeper of The Prancing Pony, would send his servants Nob and Bob to procure some of her treats for his more discerning guests. Chissa herself is a striking figure among the stout, curly-haired hobbits of the area. With her silver hair usually tied up in a practical knot, and her sharp, knowing eyes, some of the more superstitious folk of Bree would whisper that she had Elven blood, though she would just laugh and credit it to a "Tookish" relative from generations past. Her worn leather vest and sturdy gloves, visible in the warmth of her shop, hinted at a practical nature, perhaps from her life in the Shire, but her genuine hospitality and the bright lanterns of her shop kept the wilder rumors at bay.

She never lost her connection to her family in the Shire, though her correspondence is a bit one-sided, mostly consisting of letters from a distant cousin, Dora Baggins, filled with advice and news of the latest social happenings. Chissa, for her part, occasionally sent back a small parcel of her exotic pipe-weed or a new type of muffin, much to the delight of the recipient and the envy of the neighbors. She found her peace in Bree, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the world, a place where a hobbit could be both respectable and a little bit adventurous, all at once.

Chissa's Patisserie Shoppe stands as a testament to her journey, a beacon of sweet smells and warm light on the edge of the wild. It is a place where different peoples could meet, share a bite of something delicate and delicious, and for a moment, forget the troubles of Middle-earth. And though the Great East Road might have been less traveled in those days, every now and then a weary traveler, be they man or dwarf, would stop at her door, and leave with a smile and a belly full of joy, a silent nod to the adventurous hobbit who found her home away from home.