"I spunked in you Lembas bread flour, ya bastards."
War has come to the people of Fartasia. It is a human war, because of course it is. The elves don't want to get involved, because of course they don't. But they will pompously send one guy, because they're pricks like that. Sure, we have whole armies and the world is in jeopardy and all life may end, but maybe this one fucking guy who doesn't even have armor can help you save the day. Or not, we don't give a fig.
So rather than Legolas, you get Bertrand, the only guy the stuck-up shit elves could be arsed to send on your mythical journey. Bertrand the turnip farmer, who wastes all his money on dwarfish whores and elvish wine because his wife left him for a noble archer 400 years ago and he's held a grudge this entire time.
Chicks dig archers. Especially chick archers.
Bertrand isn't particularly tall for an elf, and he has a gut because he really doesn't do much all day, and he can't commune with nature for shit, because why should he? That's what his tramp of an ex-wife used to do, so the squirrels and the bees can all go fuck themselves with a honeysuckle. Bertrand fights with a kitchen knife, because who has time to learn swordplay exactly? That's like a really impressive skill, and he's spent his life farming turnips, like his dad did. Who the hell do you think grows all the food for the elves anyway -- Galadriel? Bitch don't even touch turnips.
Much like there is diversity in the human world, so too should there be diversity in the world of elves. They can't all be gallant and multitalented experts in all things, that would be weird and creepy.