"Calm down, Thorin," said Balin, and Dwalin placed a hand on Thorin's shoulder.
The group was stunned. They had never seen Thorin like this before. To them, Thorin was always a calm and cold-blooded Dwarf.
Even though I already knew, I still said, "Seems like you've got a grudge."
Thorin took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. I heard him mutter curses in the Dwarvish tongue. While he did, Balin explained to us the relationship between Thorin and Azog. It wasn't different from what I already knew. The other dwarves also harbored a deep hatred for the Orc who had brought such misery upon Thorin and his family.
I was starting to get impatient.
"Well then, the past is the past. He's already after you, and you'll settle the score when the time comes. Right now, it's time to talk business," I said.
The group fell silent, and Gandalf spoke again.
"I will be honest with you. I trust Jeros' judgment, but Thorin's approval is necessary. After all, this is his quest." He turned to Thorin.
Thorin thought for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and made his decision.
"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain! Rightful heir to Erebor, also known as the Lonely Mountain," he said.
I nodded. I already knew his name! What's with the formal introduction?
He continued,
"The purpose of our quest is to enter Erebor and reclaim the King's Jewel—the Arkenstone. If you wish to join us, how can you be of use? Don't forget, there's a chance we may face a living dragon in Erebor."
I introduced myself. Unlike other reincarnators, I didn't hide anything—nor did I need to.
"You already know my name and reputation. I'm a wandering knight, and I know how to use Aura. My strength is mid to peak level. Also, I'm a hybrid, though I don't know what kind. I'm half Dúnedain, half something else—but definitely not dwarf or elf, I'm certain of that. As for my skills—I'm good with sword and shield, as well as heavy swords. I'm decent with ranged weapons, can track, hunt, and besides the common tongue, I know a bit of Elvish and Dwarvish. Not to brag, but I'm quite skilled in cooking. My hybrid blood gives me speed, strength, and endurance well above average. I also have some connections, but since Gandalf's in the group, that's hardly worth mentioning," I said, nodding at Gandalf, who was smiling.
Before continuing, I called Halt, and after handing the prisoners over to Kili and Fili, he came to us.
"This is my companion, Halt," I said, and greetings were exchanged. I continued,
"Halt is a specially trained ranger. He comes from beyond Middle-earth, where they're called Forest Rangers—a prestigious order. They're as skilled in archery as Elves, excellent with blades, and masters of camouflage. Besides that, they're knowledgeable in tracking, lock-picking, map reading, cooking, hunting, military strategy, politics, and trade. Halt is a veteran elite member and former second captain of this unit. He's taken part in many battles."
Thorin and his team examined Halt briefly, then held a short meeting—just like when we entered Rivendell. Then Thorin spoke:
"We would be pleased to work with you," he said, and we shook hands. Halt just observed from the side, saying nothing. At that moment, I remembered—I hadn't mentioned the "giant lizard" to him yet… he won't be too mad, right?
—Half an hour after the agreement—
"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!!!"Halt said in a low but extremely sharp voice, his tone carrying a hint of murderous intent.
We had left the house and were walking toward the inn. We had agreed to meet at dawn. Before leaving, we gave the group some information about the Silver Jackals and then departed. After explaining the situation to Halt and telling him we were heading into a dragon's lair, he snapped.
I scratched the back of my head in embarrassment.
"Come on, Halt. It'll be fun and exciting. We'll experience something no other Forest Rangers has," I said.
He stared at me harshly, the veins in his body bulging.
"WHAT PART OF THIS IS FUN?! WHAT PART IS INTERESTING?! WHAT DO YOU THINK LIFE IS?!" he shouted.
My head buzzed and I was stunned. His words sounded familiar, but I couldn't recall where I'd heard them before. It's been 11 years, and though I took precautions to remember details about this world, I've forgotten many things. Only what's useful remains. I smiled oddly and scratched the back of my head again.
"Halt, I made my decision before you arrived. If you don't want to come, I understand. But Erebor and its surrounding lands are the only suitable places to build a kingdom. Plus, they'll give us a share of the treasure. Even if we filled every room of Araluen Castle a hundred times over, we'd only use a tenth of it—maybe not even that. That wealth could solve many of our problems. But the road ahead is dangerous… and what comes after, even more so."
I spent the next hour explaining the reason for the quest and its importance in the world. I also told him about the upcoming Battle of the Five Armies. As he listened, Halt's expression grew darker. He muttered something in a language I didn't understand—probably Gaelic from his world—and I'd bet Shadowmane's hide that it was a curse.
He took a deep breath.
"Alright, let's do it. If I want the others to come into this world, I need to stay with you anyway. I've already died once—what's there to be afraid of?"
We finalized the plans and approached the inn. I asked for his permission and veered off in a different direction. I came to the door of a fancy hobbit house and knocked.
Knock knock knock…
A cranky voice came from inside,
"At this hour? This had better be important!"
The door opened, revealing an old hobbit.
"Good evening, Mr. Mayor," I said with a smile. I was still wearing my helmet—he probably couldn't see my face.
When the hobbit mayor saw a black-armored, armed knight standing at his door, he tensed up and cautiously asked,
"What can I do for you, Sir Knight?"
"I'm only here to give you some information. At dawn, I'll be leaving on a journey with Mr. Bilbo Baggins. It may last over a year. I've heard that hobbits often auction off the belongings of those who disappear for a while. I trust you won't make such a mistake, right?" I said, releasing a bit of killing intent and giving him a cold stare.
I was so angry when Bilbo returned from his hard and painful journey and his house was ransacked by these little bastards, this will teach them a lesson!
The mayor began to tremble.
"M-M-Mr. Baggins? N-N-No problem! H-His house will be safe, I assure you!"
"I hope so. I've never spilled hobbit blood, and I'd prefer not to start now. If I hear a single thing is missing from his home, your house—and my hands—will both get dirty."
The mayor grew even paler, and his pants began to darken.
"I-I-I guarantee it," he stammered.
"Good. Here's some first-class wine. Apologies for the late hour," I said, handing him the bottle. Before leaving, I gave him the location of the dead and bound Jackals. When he heard about the corpses, he turned ghostly pale and promised to take care of it. I gave him a pouch of gold for his trouble. At first, he wanted to refuse, but I gave him a sharp look.
"I'm not a bandit. I'm a knight. I have honor. I warned you because Bilbo is my friend, but that's a different matter—so take the gold and don't annoy me," I said.
"And if men wearing Silver Jackal emblems come asking about the dwarves or Gandalf, tell them we went south—say we're heading east from southern Dunland. If they ask about their men, tell them we killed them last night and they vanished. Don't play games with me. I have friends watching you in the dark—you won't even realize how you died," I said and left.
"This half-truth, half-lie should buy us some time," I thought.
When I returned to the inn, Halt had already retired to his room. It had been a long day. I went to my room, locked the door, and prepared to sleep without removing my armor. It had become a habit. Without it, I felt vulnerable. I sat on the bed and got lost in thought. A few minutes later, a window opened in front of me.
System: [System Activated.]
The message appeared before me.
At last, I realized that a new and difficult adventure awaited me—and with great excitement, I began to examine the system.
— From Bilbo's Point of View —
After the knight and the ranger left my home, the dwarves interrogated the prisoners and then took them outside. They returned twenty minutes later.
We gathered again around the dining table, during which time Gandalf appeared deeply lost in thought.
"What are your thoughts on Igris?" Thorin asked, turning to Gloin. "What did Guno tell you about him?"
Gloin looked pensive for a moment, then began to speak.
"You know, Thorin, our people are scattered across Middle-earth. Some went to other dwarf kingdoms, others chose different paths for new beginnings. Guno, along with a caravan of about 400 dwarves, left the Iron Hills to head toward the Blue Mountains for a fresh start. But the journey proved far more difficult than expected. Guno and his companions guided the caravan through the southern parts of Dunland, facing harsh weather, bandits, and attacks from orcs. Of the 400 who set out, only around 150 made it past Dunland..."
Gloin went silent. Some of the group looked angry, others devastated. I didn't know what to feel—I didn't know those people, and I wasn't a dwarf. I had never been to war, nor had I ever left the Shire.
"That's exactly why we must make this journey," Thorin said coldly. "We will reclaim Erebor and the wealth that is rightfully ours. We will unite the dwarves once more and show those men and elves who look down on us just what dwarves are made of."
"I hope so," Gloin said, then continued. "After entering the borders of Enedwaith, Guno and the remaining members of the caravan were ambushed by a host of orcs led by a chieftain. They formed a protective circle around the women and children. Fewer than 80 tired and battered warriors stood surrounded by nearly 300 orcs, and a desperate battle for survival began."
He paused and took a sip of his drink. Every dwarf in the room was fully engrossed in the tale; no one said a word.
"Guno and the others had fallen into despair and were fighting to the death. Then, amidst that hopelessness, they began to hear screams from within the ranks of the orcs. At first, they thought it was a victory cry—but it wasn't. A rider was cutting through the orcs like an arrow, heading straight toward them, slaying every orc in his path."
He paused again, staring into his drink. We waited in silence, eager for him to continue.
"According to Guno, he had never come so close to death in his life, and never seen a clash so intense. The rider reached their side, dismounted, cut down several more orcs, and turned to the dwarves. 'Did these stray orcs truly frighten you? They're not even organized. I thought dwarves were braver than this. Seems all those stories about Durin were just legends,' he said."
Before Gloin could say more, Kili erupted.
"How dare he! Insulting our ancestors!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table.
Dwalin rose to his feet. "Thorin, let's teach that scoundrel a lesson!"
"I'm with you, brother. Come on, Uncle—this isn't just an insult to Durin, it's an insult to all of us!" Fili added, standing up.
The others joined in, but then Balin started laughing.
They all looked at him in shock.
"What's so funny, brother?" Dwalin asked.
Thorin hadn't spoken a word during all this, but he turned to look at Balin, who also seemed a bit troubled despite his laughter.
Balin eventually stopped chuckling
"What a brave and interesting man. He certainly knows how to deal with dwarves."
Everyone looked surprised, even Gandalf—who had merely been observing quietly up to that point—lifted his eyes slightly.
"What do you mean? He insulted our history and our ancestors! How can you stay calm?" Dwalin asked. The whole group waited for Balin's response. Meanwhile, Gloin had been grinning and sipping his drink this entire time. Balin looked at Gloin and said, "Go on, tell them."
Gloin nodded with a smile. "When I first heard the story, my wife and I reacted the same way. Guno and the survivors were furious, cursing at him, telling him he had no right to speak of their ancestors like that. But then Igris let out his aura and shouted:
'THEN STAND AS BEFITS YOUR ANCESTORS! IF DURIN SAW YOU COWERING AND SURRENDERING LIKE THIS, HE'D RISE FROM HIS GRAVE AND BANISH YOU FROM THE DWARVEN RACE! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, BRAVE WARRIORS OF THE DWARVES? YOUR ENEMY SURROUNDS YOU! FIGHT! FIGHT FOR YOURSELVES! FOR YOUR GLORIOUS HISTORY! JUST LIKE YOUR FOREFATHERS DID IN THE MINES OF MORIA! RISE, NOBLE PEOPLE OF DURIN!'"
He was animated now. "The fewer than 30 remaining warriors, and even the 60 or so unarmored dwarf women, were filled with fire. They fought back with renewed vigor. The tide turned because of Igris—he took command, used brilliant tactics, and drove the orcs back with minimal casualties!"
I saw the dwarves were visibly stirred by the story, their hairs standing on end—and I felt the same. Turning the tide in such a desperate situation with so few warriors—it was like something out of a legend. But this was real. And I had met the man who did it.
Gloin continued. "After the battle, they buried the dead. That's when Guno finally understood why Igris insulted their history. He wanted to rally them, to ignite their spirit. The best way to infuriate a dwarf is to challenge his honor. Durin means everything to us. Mocking him enrages every true dwarf."
Balin chuckled. "Exactly. And he wasn't even a dwarf—that made his words all the more effective."
Gloin nodded and went on. "Guno approached Igris as he was tending to his wounds. He thanked him and asked, 'You're not a dwarf—so why did you help us?' And Igris replied, 'There are a few reasons. I hate orcs. Having a few dwarves owe me a favor wouldn't hurt. And I need armor—where else would I find better craftsmanship than from you?' He said it with a grin. But Guno didn't believe those were the real reasons—he told me Igris could have gained all that in easier, safer ways. Then Igris sighed and said, 'I saw you needed help, so I helped.'
Guno was stunned. 'You helped us... just because of that?'
Igris just shrugged and nodded. 'Still, you owe me armor!'
And Guno started laughing—he swore on Durin's beard that he'd never laughed that hard in his life."
The group sat silently, each lost in thought. No one spoke.
Then Gloin continued, "Thorin,"he said, drawing everyone's gaze back to the leader.
"After the battle, Igris led them to a safe, desolate mountainous region. He spoke with his contacts in Tharbad and helped them establish a dwarf colony there. He lived with them for three years, helping them build homes. When Guno visited last year, he told me the colony was named Blackbeard, and it now has over 500 warriors and more than 3,000 civilians. Igris used his connections to find them work, and introduced new ideas and products that allowed the dwarves to make a living without traditional mining. According to Guno, where once he could barely survive in the Iron Hills, now he's thriving with new methods. His wife just had their fifth child last year."
The dwarves were stunned.
Dwalin asked, "This colony—is it thatBlackbeard colony? Is this Guno the same as Blackbeard Guno?"
Even Gandalf raised an eyebrow.
I asked, "Why are you all so surprised?"
Balin, still looking astonished, responded. "Because, young hobbit, rumors say Blackbeard Colony is the 'Second Erebor.' At first, I thought it was nonsense, but now... it seems true."
Gloin nodded. "You asked me what I think of Igris. I'm telling you what Guno told me: 'I'd entrust him with my entire family and colony without blinking an eye.'"
Kili then asked, "But I don't understand—why didn't you go join Guno?"
"I couldn't, for personal reasons," Gloin replied. "I was planning to go this year. But when the call came, I wanted to join you. Guno wanted to come too, with a team of 50 elite warriors. But orcs have been behaving strangely lately. Pirates are raiding the coasts more often. He didn't want to risk the colony."
Dwalin asked, "But why would he leave a good life behind and join us?"
"Yeah, why?" Fili echoed.
We were all curious now. Gloin answered, "Because of something Igris told him."
"What did he say?" Thorin asked.
Gloin lowered his voice. "He advised Guno not to make the colony permanent. He said, 'If even half of what I've heard about Thorin Oakenshield is true, you'll be reclaiming Erebor soon.' But he warned him not to speak of it—because dwarves aren't the only ones eyeing that mountain. The only ones who know this are Guno, my wife, and I."