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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 32
🕑 Added 2025-07-11 01:43:20 +0000 UTCTo be honest, the journey up to this point hadn't been easy. Since he truly had no idea where the main road was, Garrett had been navigating through forests and mountainous terrain based only on vague memories and general direction, cutting straight across the wilderness in the most direct path possible.
It was the literal definition of "taking the hard way."
Some areas were so treacherous that even his superior mount nearly failed to make the leaps.
At this very moment, finally finding a proper road leading to the dwarven settlement, he was overwhelmed with relief. Without hesitation, he spurred his horse and rode toward the lights ahead.
Only when he approached the towering gate carved into the mountainside did he slow down, guiding his mount forward at a more respectful pace. Standing before the massive structure, he looked up in genuine awe.
He had to admit, although dwarves were short in stature, their architectural style was truly grand and imposing. He had to crane his neck back just to take in the full scope of the edifice before him.
Even the gate was enormous, he figured the mountain must be completely hollowed out inside, with vast chambers beyond.
"Ha! Be amazed by our stonework, Man."
Just as he was admiring the craftsmanship, a voice suddenly called out behind him. Turning around, he saw a dwarf by the roadside examining him from head to toe.
"You don't look like a traveling merchant. What brings you to our halls?" the dwarf inquired.
Garrett dismounted and greeted the grizzled-looking dwarf respectfully.
"Greetings. This is my first time visiting dwarven lands. I've heard that your forging craftsmanship is second to none, so I came to see it for myself."
Hearing this, the dwarf immediately straightened with pride.
"Haha! Then you've come to the right place, lad. Dwarven craftsmanship surpasses all others by leagues. Fine armor, keen weapons... as long as you have enough coin, you can take them with you. Though we generally don't do business with outsiders, you seem like a decent sort. I can tell you're a seasoned warrior, if it were up to me, I'd be happy to sell you some quality goods."
The dwarf proved quite friendly. After chatting briefly and noticing Garrett looked unfamiliar with the layout, he even provided directions:
"If you're seeking lodging, turn right after entering. If you want to browse wares, go left. There are several smithies there, and a merchant caravan that just returned from the south."
"Thank you."
Bidding farewell to the hospitable dwarf, Garrett led his horse forward, musing as he walked.
Who claimed dwarves were rude and boorish? Nonsense, this one had been perfectly courteous and welcoming.
With that thought, he soon passed through the massive gate and entered the great mountain hall where the dwarves dwelt.
Dwarves typically conducted their daily lives and work within the mountain, rarely venturing far unless part of a trading expedition.
After the fall of Erebor, these halls had become the primary settlement for Thorin and his people.
Though he had mentally prepared himself, the sight within still left Garrett astounded.
Upon entering, his eyes widened, the space inside the mountain was far grander than it appeared from without. The vaulted ceiling seemed to stretch impossibly high, with massive chandeliers suspended by thick iron chains, luminous gems embedded in the walls, dwellings and bridges built along the natural contours of the cavern, and magnificent statues and towering pillars that extended from the underground stream up so high you had to tilt your head back just to see their tops.
The ringing of hammers on anvils echoed throughout the vast space, accompanied by the low hum of industry and conversation.
Following the dwarf's earlier directions, he looked to the right and quickly spotted a multi-story building bustling with dwarven patrons.
That must be the inn.
"Welcome, traveler! Find yourself a seat wherever you like!"
The innkeeper, a rotund dwarf with an impressive beard, greeted Garrett as he entered.
"Ah, but it looks like you'll need to stable your mount first. Move along, lad! Go find proper quarters for our guest's horse!"
The innkeeper barked at a young dwarf nearby, and soon everything was arranged, both Garrett and his mount were properly accommodated. Within moments, he was seated at a sturdy wooden table, anticipating his first taste of dwarven cuisine.
Strong ale, roasted meat... the hearty aromas soon filled the air as the food was brought forth.
This time, he had come well-prepared with plenty of silver coins, all acquired from troll hoards. It was more than sufficient for him to live comfortably for some time.
Perhaps it was the dinner hour, because more and more dwarves began to fill the common room. What had been a relatively quiet dining hall now buzzed with activity, many choosing to take their evening meal here.
However, with so many dwarves present, his presence stood out considerably.
"A Man? Haven't seen one in an age."
"He doesn't look like he's here for trade. Perhaps he's a wanderer."
"Rather lean build, though."
"He might cut a fine figure, but he lacks a proper beard."
"Wonder what distant lands he hails from."
Garrett took a deep breath and mentally revised his earlier assessment that all dwarves were courteous.
These chattering dwarves could be rather vocal in their observations.
"By my beard! This is my first time seeing a Man up close, hey there, friend, let's share a drink!"
A particularly young-looking dwarf suddenly raised a tankard brimming with ale and lifted it toward Garrett.
Raising an eyebrow, Garrett had little choice but to lift his own tankard in response.
"Hahahaha!" the dwarf burst into hearty laughter, then drained his ale in one massive gulp, released a satisfied belch, wiped the foam from his beard, and sighed contentedly.
Garrett was unfazed. He consumed his ale in one draught without even blinking, then raised his empty tankard and gave the dwarf a slight nod to show it was completely drained.
Dwarves nearby began whistling and encouraging the display.
"Drink him under the table!"
"Show him dwarven mettle!"
Soon, a circle of dwarves gathered around, more than happy to enjoy the spectacle.
Garrett cast a helpless look toward the innkeeper, only to realize the proprietor was joining in the encouragement as well.
No assistance there.
"Very well, let's settle this!" He slapped the table and accepted the challenge directly.
"Excellent! If you can drink me under the table this night, I'll cover your entire bill!"
The young dwarf threw down the gauntlet and had the innkeeper bring forth two massive casks of ale.
With a loud crash, two tables were pushed together.
Glug glug glug...
Chug chug chug.
"Ahhhh!"
And thus the drinking contest commenced, no food, no respite, just pure alcohol.
The dwarves were thoroughly entertained. Few could outdrink this local champion, and they were certain the Man stood no chance.
Garrett, meanwhile, was enjoying himself immensely. Being intoxicated was merely a temporary status effect to him, and he had several bottles of milk in his inventory as a precaution.
As for capacity... well, alcohol did affect his hunger bar, but apparently, regardless of how full he became, he could continue drinking. The only consequence was that the inebriation effect would last longer.
"This one! This one's for... for our new friendship, hic!"
The dwarf raised his tankard and emptied it in one go.
"Right, much appreciated, but this is the fifth time you've toasted to our meeting."
Garrett continued drinking steadily.
By now, both their tables were covered with empty tankards. Judging by their size, each vessel held at least a pint of ale.
Both had consumed nearly twenty tankards each.
"I'm warning you... don't... don't you dare lose your stomach..." the dwarf slurred, foam on his lips, pointing at Garrett with unfocused eyes.
Garrett set down his empty tankard and remarked calmly, "Ah, okay. Come to think of it, I think I'm finally feeling something. So this is what being drunk is like?"
Thud!
His tone remained light, his gaze crystal clear, no sign of struggle whatsoever.
To the young dwarf, however, those words sounded like a whisper from the devil. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed face-first onto the table, ale foam trickling from the corner of his mouth.
That final observation from Garrett completely shattered his resolve.
"Victor, our traveling friend!"
The innkeeper climbed onto a stool, raised Garrett's arm, and declared his triumph.
"HUZZAH!!!"
[Blue Mountains Dwarves Reputation +10]
