Malphegor
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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 119
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 01:17:33 +0000 UTC"But none of that is the main reason I suspect him."
Gandalf reflected for a moment, then said, "The main reason is that his recent behavior has been quite abnormal."
"While I was in Orthanc searching for useful information, he frequently summoned certain attendants to the upper levels of the tower. They would depart with orders and return many days later, carrying things wrapped tightly in burlap sacks."
"When I asked what was inside, he reacted as if I had trespassed upon sacred ground, he replied with great agitation, saying I had no right to inquire and that I would be wise not to investigate further."
"After that, he often secluded himself in the upper levels of the tower and rarely emerged. Whenever I attempted to approach, I was ordered to halt. Many times I could only speak with him through closed doors."
"A few days later, when I went to see him again, he outright expelled me, claiming I was disrupting his research."
"But what kind of research is it that I'm not permitted to know about?"
After all, we are both Istari. Should our ultimate purposes not be aligned?
He shook his head, unable to make sense of it.
"It's definitely suspicious," Garrett said, furrowing his brow in thought.
Could it be that Saruman had already begun researching Sauron's dark arts at this point?
Wasn't it rather early for that?
Something didn't feel right.
But speaking of which...
"Magic..."
He caught onto that keyword.
To the outside world, it appeared that he was constantly using magic. The frequency of his abilities made him arguably "the most magical person of the age."
But only Garrett himself knew that anything related to true magic, especially in combat, had always been his weakness. No matter how thick his armor, it couldn't defend against magically inflicted damage.
There were many beings in this world who could wield magic.
For example: elven lords, wizards, or certain individuals with special bloodlines or fateful encounters. Most of them belonged to the Free Peoples, and even when they possessed magic, they used it sparingly.
In contrast, Sauron's servants seemed utterly unrestrained: the Nine Nazgûl, Mordor's lieutenants, all manner of dark servants...
They not only wielded shadow magic but also roamed freely across Middle-earth, using all sorts of sinister spells to harm people, cursing others at the slightest provocation.
"I'm very interested in this matter."
After listening to Gandalf's account, he said, "I don't think Saruman would refuse a visit from me, would he?"
"I suppose... probably not," Gandalf replied, though he felt somewhat uncertain inside.
Would he truly not refuse? Probably not?
"When are you planning to go? I can accompany you. If Saruman has any objections, I'll attempt to persuade him."
No, maybe it's better if you don't come, Garrett thought. But after considering, he still replied, "Next month. Let's meet in Rivendell and journey to Orthanc in Isengard together."
"That works well. I also want to visit Erebor to see how Thorin and the others are faring. I'll be in Rivendell at the beginning of next month."
And so, their travel plans were set.
That evening, they attended a small feast hosted by Thranduil, who had arranged it specially for them. They drank quite a bit of wine, all brought by Garrett.
Before arriving, he had packed over a dozen barrels of homemade wine from his stronghold's cellars. Though not a vast quantity, he had brought one barrel of each main variety.
Some were strong, some mild, and some purchased from a Dorwinion trading caravan.
"This is truly exceptional," Thranduil said, savoring the various types of wine with visible delight.
"Especially this barrel," he indicated the strongest vodka and said, "It's been an age since I've had a wine that truly earns the word 'potent.' The flavor is simple, but the strength is genuine."
"If you like it, I can bring more next time. Or once the roads are built, our trading caravans will start bringing wine here too."
Thranduil chuckled softly and didn't respond to that suggestion.
Still thinking about your road, are you.
But setting the road aside...
"Your trading caravans?"
"Yes, we established them last year. We mainly sell things like leather, silk thread, fresh fruits, vegetables, and preserved meats. Recently, we've added wine like the ones I brought today."
"I guarantee the finest quality for all goods. Absolutely no inferior products mixed in."
As Garrett described the trade goods, Thranduil's eyes clearly brightened. Most of what he offered were essential materials and necessary supplies, always in high demand. Not to mention the excellent wines on the table that evening.
This trading caravan would absolutely never lose money, no matter where it went.
"Should your caravan one day reach the borders of the forest, I would be pleased to send some guards to protect them, for friendship's sake, if nothing else," the king said as he gently swirled the wine in his goblet.
With that, the merchant's permit was essentially secured.
After discussing the caravan, they chatted casually about various trivial matters, and the small feast came to an end.
Garrett didn't linger much longer and departed the next day, heading back to Rivendell.
Gandalf, meanwhile, traveled south for a time, surveying the area before eventually passing through the forest and following Garrett's path to Rivendell. But by the time he arrived, Garrett had already departed, he had returned to Wayfort.
There were potentially valuable resources at Saruman's stronghold. It was wise to make some preparations before visiting him. Both to prevent unexpected incidents and to ready himself for potential opportunities.
---
Whoosh.
With a shimmer and distortion of the Nether portal, Garrett stepped out of the dimensional gateway.
Seeing that their lord had finally returned home, Wade, who had been tending the fields nearby, quickly came over to report.
While Garrett had been away, more refugees had arrived at the stronghold seeking guidance and shelter. Altogether, about a hundred new people had come.
The territory could certainly accommodate them, and there were enough staff to help guide the newcomers. However, after receiving this latest group, an awkward problem had finally emerged: They were running short of houses.
"My lord, we may not be able to take in more people," Wade said, troubled. He carefully chose his words and continued, "Actually, many of the homes are quite spacious. Sharing them with others would be manageable. I've considered that myself."
"I have no family, and it's rather wasteful for me to live alone in such a fine house. It's also too quiet. A few more people wouldn't be unwelcome..."
"Stop."
Garrett waved his hand. "Why should people cram together? Isn't there still a lot of empty land? Just build more houses."
"Gather some folks who know construction. We've already got the materials and tools."
"Start a new housing project right away."
"Build as many as we need. Or even more, it doesn't matter."
There was still plenty of empty land within the territory, more than enough to support a housing expansion. And if that wasn't enough, they could always extend the outer walls, expand the territory, and build more houses. If there wasn't enough flat land, then they'd reshape the terrain, level it, expand again.
Thanks to the characteristics of Minecraft, space limitations simply weren't a concern.
"Understood, my lord."
Having organized many construction projects before, Wade was already well-practiced. He quickly spread the word.
People who had previously built homes suddenly realized they could use that skill again, another opportunity had opened up.
Some immediately decided to chat with their neighbors during their free time, eager to demonstrate their craftsmanship to their lord.
"Back in my village, every house I oversaw was solid and practical!"
"No winter wind ever penetrated, no summer heat lingered, and not a drop of rain leaked through."
In the town square, small groups of residents who had already finished work for the day gathered to chat idly.
Though there were many ways to live in the territory, once people got used to them, things began to feel a bit mundane.
Now, their lord's new instruction felt like the beginning of a fresh community project. It immediately captured everyone's attention and overshadowed other topics.
"You're absolutely right."
Someone agreed and added, "But aren't all the houses here like that, solid, durable, weatherproof, and well-ventilated?"
"Uh..."
The resident who had wanted to showcase his craftsmanship deflated slightly.
That was true. Every house here was built using their lord's abilities, how could any of them be bad?
"Then... then let's make them beautiful!"
He declared, then looked around at the other houses in the territory.
If every house could be sturdy regardless of how it was built, then there was no need to worry about structural limitations.
Only one thing mattered now, appearance. As long as it looked magnificent, it was perfect.
The desire for aesthetic beauty bloomed in that moment.
