Malphegor
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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 159
🕑 Added 2025-08-05 17:34:01 +0000 UTC"I should have reminded you to leave one alive."
Halbarad let out a sigh.
He truly hadn't expected the slaughter to be that fast...
"What's the point of leaving one alive?" Garrett asked as he walked over, though he hadn't yet sheathed his sword.
"Sometimes you can extract useful information from them."
"Very well then."
The longsword, still glowing with brilliant blue light, pressed against an orc's throat. The orc was lying on the ground, covered in blood, seemingly dead already.
"If you want to keep playing dead, I have no problem cutting your throat right now."
The health bar was not empty, who was he trying to fool?
The orc opened his eyes and took a labored breath.
Halbarad immediately pinned him down so he couldn't move.
"Speak. Why are you here?"
"Tell me everything you know, and I might consider sparing your life."
"Heh heh heh..."
The orc bared his filthy black teeth in a sneer. "You won't live much longer. Our master will soon devour this place entirely. You're all going to die, none of you have much time left..."
He used up all his remaining breath to say that, and as his voice faded, his body stiffened and grew still.
Halbarad checked his eyes.
"No need to look. He's definitely dead."
The orc had already been dying, just a sliver of health remaining. He wouldn't have lasted much longer even if they had left him alone.
"Seems like what you found out was true. Sauron's been making some big moves in this area."
"We'll need to pick up the pace."
That night, they didn't rest.
Two shadows continued racing along the main road.
They kept riding until the sun had fully risen, and their horses stepped onto fertile green land.
Garrett jumped off his horse, immediately noticing the difference between here and the wasteland behind them.
This place was clearly much more abundant, plants and grass grew taller and more lush, their colors vibrant.
Even the road appeared smoother and better maintained.
As they walked, it wasn't long before a large vineyard appeared ahead, grapevines climbing over wooden trellises. Plump clusters of grapes hung everywhere, looking sweet and juicy.
But just as Garrett reached out to pluck one for a taste, Halbarad grabbed his arm abruptly.
"Don't. Don't do that. Even though these grapes grow right by the road, they still belong to someone."
He said with bitter experience, "I really don't enjoy recalling that incident, but the people of Dorwinion... they care more about grapes and wine than their own lives."
"Last time I passed through, I was parched and couldn't resist picking a small bunch by the roadside. Two guards happened to see it, and they immediately shouted and gave chase. No matter how I explained, they wouldn't listen. They pursued me from noon until dusk, and only stopped when they could run no more."
"Listen, Garrett, never, ever pick their grapes without permission."
"To protect their vineyards, they even post bounties on rabbits and birds. I doubt they would hesitate to add a man to the list."
"And the vineyard guards in Dorwinion aren't just estate workers or hired muscle. Every one of them is a trained soldier. It's best not to provoke trouble."
"Really?"
That serious?
Garrett's hand froze mid-air.
Still, even if that was the case... these were new crops and seeds!
"This vineyard's huge, how many guards can there really be? We'll just take a little bit. Just a tiny bit. They won't notice. And it's not as if we're stealing, I'll leave some coins behind. A few bunches of grapes can't be worth that much..."
"True enough."
Halbarad nodded seriously, his eyes fixed hungrily on the grapes.
"I know the local prices. Two bunches only cost—"
"What are you two doing here?!"
A sudden shout startled both of them. They jumped back several steps instinctively.
Their eyes snapped away from the grapevines, one was rubbing his hands nervously, the other had his hands on his hips. They practically had the words "guilty as charged" written across their faces.
These two men who wouldn't flinch before an army of tens of thousands of orcs were now completely cowed by one guard's shout.
That guard could honestly mark this down as a rare achievement.
"I saw you two lurking about. What exactly are you doing here?"
He looked them over with clear suspicion.
This vineyard guard was clad in well-made armor, a sharp-looking sword hanging from his waist, and a round shield on his back, marked with Dorwinion's signature emblem, a golden wine goblet.
He definitely had the authority to question suspicious individuals.
"I was hoping to bbuy some grapes from the owner here, if that's alright," Garrett stepped forward to explain.
"You had better be here to buy..."
The guard scrutinized the man who had spoken. The hand gripping his sword hilt involuntarily tensed.
Even though some legends hadn't yet reached this far eastern land, experiences and past deeds tend to manifest as a natural aura, one that people instinctively respond to.
Though the man before him seemed calm and bore no apparent hostility, everything, from his gear to an unshakable gut instinct, told the guard that even ten of him wouldn't stand a chance against this lone individual.
When someone you know you can't beat wants to talk to you nicely, the smart move is to talk nicely back.
He took a breath and spoke in a more even tone, "I have the authority to negotiate this. We'll go by market price. You can verify in town, it's fair and regulated. And next time you get ideas about the grapes, think twice. We show no mercy to thieves."
"Understood."
Garrett nodded and paid for three bunches of grapes.
They were dirt cheap. It felt more like a symbolic fee than an actual price.
As soon as he received the grapes, he placed them into his inventory. One bunch went to Halbarad to quench his thirst. The other two were entirely converted into seeds.
One variety was purple grapes, the other green. These two types could produce red wine and white wine, respectively.
"From now on, we'll have all the grapes and wine we could ever want."
"You planning to purchase this entire vineyard?" Halbarad guessed.
With Garrett's wealth, it wouldn't be difficult, not just this vineyard, but every winery in the region could be his.
"No, of course not. I'm going to grow them myselfelf. I already have the seeds."
Grow...
Remembering the productivity of Wayfort, Halbarad fell silent.
Fair enough, grapes definitely wouldn't be in short supply.
---
Two days later, in a city on the eastern edge of Dorwinion, where Men made up the majority, an adventurer in a linen robe and a rarely seen Ranger sat inside a tavern, eating while listening to the conversation at the next table.
"Easterling invasion? Where did that rumor originate? Absolute nonsense," said one off-duty border guard, sipping wine made from Dorwinion's finest grapes.
"Exactly," said another guard across from him. "Not even worth worrying about. They pose no real threat. No matter how boisterous they become, all they ever want is our wine, not our blood."
"Rather than that, we should pay more attention to grape thieves."
The guard shook his head as he said this.
"Ha, but honestly, it's pitiful... once the most elite guards, now reduced to catching petty thieves..."
"Watch your tongue."
That made the other guard sober up quickly. He issued a swift warning.
"I'm quite interested in these Easterlings," a voice interrupted their conversation.
Garrett stood up slightly and shifted over to the next table, placing a small pouch of coins on the surface.
"Could you tell me more about them?"
The two guards exchanged a glance. One looked around, then gave a subtle hand signal.
The other casually pocketed the silver and said, "Certainly, it's hardly a secret."
"Those Easterlings, barbaric as they may be, are very wealthy. In their lands, gold and gems are as common as wine is here in Dorwinion. I've seen it with my own eyes, even their sentries wear gold-plated armor. That said, their weapons aren't impressive. Steel isn't common over there."
"Relations between us are mostly peaceful. We haven't had any real conflicts."
"But I suspect that's only because they're wary of our guards. If the day ever comes when we're no longer stationed here... who knows what might happen?"
At that, the guard on lookout nearby furrowed his brow.
Was that really something you should say about your trading partners?
Ignoring his companion's concern, the talkative guard leaned in slightly and lowered his voice.
"What should I call you, sir?"
"Steve."
"Very well, Master Steve, welcome to Dorwinion. Here, you'll find the finest wine in all of Middle-earth and sights you won't see anywhere else."
"But take a word of advice, if you're just here to travel, then stop here. Don't go any farther east."
