Malphegor
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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 145
🕑 Added 2025-08-01 00:30:58 +0000 UTCUpon hearing that name, Bard froze for a moment.
As a Man living in the late Third Age, he truly didn't know much about Balrogs, ancient creatures that had last been active before the First Age ended.
But... a being that could single-handedly destroy an entire thriving dwarven kingdom and even fight Garrett for several days without decisive outcome... That had to be something even more terrifying than a dragon.
"Very well then."
"But I'll say it again: if there's need, I won't retreat."
The topic was temporarily set aside.
Looking at the still-formidable Garrett, he took a sip of tea, feeling noticeably more at ease.
"Is there anything noteworthy happening lately?"
"Yes."
"Oh?"
That answer came as something of a surprise. It had just been a casual question, yet there really was something occurring?
"In the East."
Bard cleared off the table and spread out a map.
"Since Dale began developing, many merchant vessels from Dorwinion have been passing through. According to those traders, their old neighbors have been unusually restless lately."
"Old neighbors?"
Garrett picked up on the phrase and thought for a moment before saying, "They must mean the Easterlings. What about them?"
"Word has it there's been some internal unrest. The border guards have become extremely vigilant, even refusing to allow Dorwinion caravans entry."
"That's definitely unusual."
Garrett tapped his finger thoughtfully on the table, recalling what he had seen through the palantír from the tower at Orthanc.
An army, a vast host from Mordor, had crossed the mountain pass, heading north, toward the rear of the Easterlings' territory.
What had happened there?
Weren't the Easterlings allies of Mordor? Why send an army over, and looking ready for war, no less?
Surely the Easterlings weren't planning to switch sides to the Free Peoples?
"Try to gather more information on this, and also, tighten up border security. It wouldn't hurt to expand the military and its equipment a bit."
"When you say 'a bit'..."
"As much as you can."
"Understood."
Garrett said it casually, but he had no idea what kind of chain reaction or consequences that simple sentence would trigger.
Although he usually enjoyed taking things at a relaxed pace, when it came to real responsibilities, the current steward of Dale had never been negligent.
Dale was flourishing, Lake-town was thriving. Trade and cooperation with the dwarves and Woodland Realm were proceeding smoothly. Externally, commerce and influence were expanding steadily.
On the surface, he looked like someone who always tried to sneak in a tea break. But upon closer inspection, whether it was territorial development or Garrett's various initiatives, Bard had arranged everything to perfection, leaving no room for criticism.
Perhaps even exceeding expectations.
"Mm."
Garrett nodded. "I trust you'll handle it well."
The Easterlings... Things over there had been somewhat too active lately.
"If I get the chance, I'll go see for myself what's really happening…"
After chatting briefly with Bard, he set down his tea cup and left Lake-town, continuing north.
---
At the open gates of the Lonely Mountain, dwarves greeted Garrett as he approached.
"It's him! The bottomless eater, king of the drinking contests, master human chef, wilderness legend, Garrett!"
A group of dwarves exclaimed excitedly.
Clearly, among the dwarves, he had accumulated even more titles. Though... some of them were entirely unnecessary.
Just as he stepped through the gates of Erebor, a dwarf approached him directly.
"I spotted you coming from a league away!"
Glóin's eyes widened as he rushed in to give Garrett a bear hug, though he couldn't even reach his waist.
Out of courtesy, Garrett didn't move at first. Only after Glóin released him did Garrett cough lightly, shake his hand, and say, "I'm here to see Thorin. I have something to give him."
"Of course. Nothing questionable, I hope? In that case, I'll come along."
"Sure, I don't mind. Let's go."
---
A short while later, seated on the throne in the great hall, Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow, reflecting on the various reports from the recent council meeting. Leaning back in his chair, he slowly opened his eyes.
Restarting all the projects was still proving challenging.
As more kinsmen returned recently, Erebor's population had grown. Many long-abandoned facilities now had enough manpower to resume operation, and the region's development seemed to be progressing.
Seemed to be.
But there was a hidden issue: There weren't enough resources that could be directly used to jumpstart everything.
His earlier boasting to Garrett may have seemed confident, but now, who was going to fill this crucial gap?
This region was facing a problem similar to the Iron Hills: The Iron Hills had resources but no money. Erebor had wealth, but not enough immediately usable resources.
However, unlike the Iron Hills, Erebor still had vast reserves of untapped materials. The current issue would likely resolve itself once mining operations fully resumed.
It was only a short-term problem, but even a small problem could be vexing.
"Perhaps I should contact Dáin and arrange a resource exchange to see us through this..." He was just considering this when two figures, one tall, one short, entered the hall.
He immediately stood up.
"Garrett."
He greeted him as he walked forward.
"How have you been lately?"
"Pretty good. And you?"
"...Managing well enough."
"'Managing well enough'? That doesn't sound too great. Is something wrong?"
"Nothing major, just a short-term difficulty. It should resolve itself soon."
"Is that so? Hope everything goes smoothly."
"My thanks."
After the brief greetings, the three of them sat down at a table.
Garrett didn't waste time. Under the curious gazes of Thorin and Glóin, he directly pulled out a silver-white axe.
Swish.
The moment he saw the axe, Thorin abruptly stood up, eyes wide with shock.
Glóin's mouth dropped open as his bearded head leaned closer involuntarily. He asked in disbelief, "Th-this is...?"
"This is the treasured heirloom of our clan, Durin's Axe!"
Thorin's voice trembled slightly. He solemnly took the axe and ran his fingers across the engravings as he said, "Once, it symbolized the royal authority of Durin's line in Moria."
"Where did you find it, Garrett?"
His eyes gleamed with excitement, but there was also some confusion.
"Just as you said, of course I found it in Moria."
Garrett replied, "I also found some mithril there. Probably enough to forge a suit of mithril armor. You don't mind if I take it and use it, do you?"
"No, of course not. If you require it, we can help craft it for you."
Thorin slowly sat down, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. Compared to the ancestral treasure of Durin's line, a few chunks of mithril were nothing.
Even if you doubled the mithril and offered it as a reward to retrieve Durin's Axe, no one would accept such a dangerous task.
"I don't even know how to repay you."
Now more composed, he stroked the axe and looked at Garrett.
"No need. I don't really want anything."
"That's exactly what makes this so difficult."
Thorin sighed lightly.
"What's there to be frustrated about? Do you think I'm like those grave robbers who risk their lives for treasure? Or like mercenaries who throw their lives away for some reward?"
"No, you're not that sort of person. And I wouldn't allow anyone to call you that."
Garrett smiled and said, "Come to think of it, I used to introduce myself as an 'adventurer.' Back then, I truly enjoyed exploring, though I suppose I still do."
"Just think of this axe as something an adventurer stumbled upon during his journey."
At these words, Thorin shook his head slightly, but after considering Garrett's perspective for a moment, he suddenly smiled.
"Very well then. That's very much like you. You do seem more like an adventurer than a lord."
After all, what kind of lord leaves home several times a year to go wandering about?
"Ah!"
Suddenly, Glóin let out an exclamation. He had finally processed what had just happened.
Slap!
He struck the table and said, "By my beard! I have to tell the others about this!"
"Dwalin, Balin, Kíli, Fíli, Dori, Nori... Come quickly and see what Garrett brought!"
As he shouted his friends' names, he ran out.
"I'm going to announce this to the entire clan!"
Thorin struck the table as well, coming to a decision.
"Right, I haven't asked yet, how's the situation in Moria?"
"Not great."
Garrett said, "There are many orcs stationed and breeding there. They're more vicious and aggressive than the ones in the Misty Mountains. And it's not just orcs, there are many giant beasts and cave trolls too. I was nearly overwhelmed by them."
"That sounds dangerous."
Thorin said seriously, "I hope you don't find yourself in such danger again."
"It wasn't too bad. The orcs and beasts I could handle, they couldn't stop me if I wanted to leave."
"The real problem was the Balrog. That creature is incredibly persistent, just wouldn't give up. We fought for days, from the West Gate all the way to the East Gate, and neither of us could defeat the other."
"Ah..."
Thorin listened carefully, nodding now and then. But as Garrett finished, his brow suddenly furrowed. He looked confused, even somewhat stunned.
Wait a moment, what did he just say?
He fought the Balrog from the West Gate to the East Gate?
