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LOTR: TMCP Ch. 26
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 02:34:54 +0000 UTCGarrett was very interested in Smaug, especially in the materials that might be harvested from such a creature. He had long been considering the possibilities and certainly couldn't let such an opportunity pass by.
But now wasn't the right time.
He wasn't afraid of the dragon itself; at worst, he could tunnel underground and wait it out. But if the dragon pursued him beyond the mountain, the Men living in Dale and Esgaroth would suffer greatly.
Widespread destruction and death wasn't something he wanted on his conscience. He wasn't confident enough yet to face a dragon in single combat and emerge victorious.
He refocused his attention on the present.
The elves were explaining their forging techniques in detail, and Garrett nodded along attentively, treating it as valuable education.
For the elven craftsmen, creating a masterwork set of armor or weapons began with smelting refined alloys. Then, through a series of either complex or meticulous processes, the material was slowly shaped and forged with patience and skill. But he only needed to place raw materials into the alloy furnace, expend some experience points, and after heating, synthesize the final product directly at the workstation.
The process was simple, efficient, and remarkably fast.
At that moment, the elven smith beside him had no idea that their closely guarded techniques had been absorbed and adapted in the span of minutes.
Strictly speaking, Garrett didn't actually understand the intricacies of true forging. Everything he accomplished was essentially through systematic guidance, he knew how to achieve results, but not the underlying theory or principles.
But it didn't matter, as long as it worked effectively.
This journey to Rivendell had definitely proven worthwhile.
He was so pleased that he could barely suppress his satisfaction. He wished he could depart immediately and return home to experiment with these new capabilities. But proper etiquette still needed to be observed.
Leaving the forge, he took a leisurely tour around the valley. By then, it was approaching midday.
For some reason, Erestor had taken quite a liking to Garrett and seemed genuinely interested in fostering a friendship. So he invited Garrett to dine at his residence.
"Welcome to my home."
Erestor personally prepared the meal, and it was clear that many of the ingredients were exceptionally fresh, with a generous portion of meat. Overall, the spread looked quite appetizing. Though elves generally favored lighter fare, that didn't mean they abstained from meat entirely.
The reason some dwarves found themselves served bland, barely seasoned vegetarian dishes when visiting was merely a subtle form of retaliation for their typically boorish behavior.
Elven meals invariably included wine. Erestor poured Garrett a full glass himself, gesturing for him to enjoy it freely.
"Thank you for your hospitality."
As they conversed and dined, the two quickly cleared all the dishes before them.
The meal concluded with an excellent vintage.
With his hunger bar not only maximized but even slightly overflowing, he felt thoroughly satisfied.
Speaking of elven provisions...
He suddenly said, "I've heard of a legendary elven waybread called lembas. I've always been curious about its appearance and taste."
Erestor paused momentarily, seemingly surprised by the inquiry.
"Lembas... I do carry some when traveling abroad. If you're interested, I have a few pieces here."
With that, he rose and soon returned with several square wafers wrapped in mallorn leaves.
[Lembas]
[Special Effect: Regenerates 10 HP per second for 30 seconds]
Incredible...
Garrett had lost count of how many times elven craftsmanship had left him astounded. Holding the waybread in his hand, he felt like he'd discovered treasure.
This lembas not only granted a powerful healing effect, it also completely restored his hunger bar with just one small portion. It was the ultimate provisions for both travel and combat.
If he'd possessed this during his encounter with that orc war-band in the Trollshaws, he might have even dared to face them in open battle.
Such exceptional items were invariably rare.
Erestor only had three pieces of lembas stored at his residence. Seeing how much Garrett appreciated them, he gifted them all to him.
"Lembas won't satisfy your desire for ordinary food. Even after consuming it, you'll still crave the taste of bread and meat. But its restorative properties are extraordinary. I believe it will serve you well when the need is greatest."
"It certainly will. Do you have any more available? If possible, I'd like to purchase some."
Lembas was remarkable, but unfortunately, there were only three pieces.
Erestor shook his head apologetically.
"I'm sorry. We rarely part with lembas, and it's not something we produce in large quantities. I only happened to have these few pieces in reserve."
"I see. Thank you for your generosity."
Knowing he wouldn't be able to acquire more lembas in the immediate future, Garrett wasn't disappointed. Even with only three pieces, he was more than satisfied.
Since he still couldn't brew healing potions, each piece of lembas would serve as a valuable ace in the hole.
Rivendell was truly a magical realm.
Time seemed to flow differently here, one could barely sense its passage.
Gazing at the waterfall cascading before the main halls, he realized with some surprise that he had already been staying here for an entire week. Life here was wonderful, like a glimpse of the Undying Lands themselves.
But... it was too peaceful for his purposes.
---
Early the next morning, Garrett dressed appropriately and led his horse from the stables.
"You're departing?"
As if sensing his intentions, Erestor appeared at the stable entrance.
"Time waits for no one, my friend. I still have many things to do and can't stay here for long."
"May the wind be at your back and your path be clear."
"Thank you."
Upon hearing that Garrett was leaving, the elf responsible for the stables quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
This human's steed was remarkably strange, seven days straight without eating or drinking, no matter what was offered. Concerned the horse might fall ill from starvation, he had approached Garrett several times about it, but Garrett always insisted there was no cause for worry.
If the horse hadn't appeared completely healthy throughout, he would have suspected Garrett of deliberately starving the poor creature out of some grudge.
As it turned out, the horse truly was extraordinary. At the very least, it possessed amazing resilience against hunger and thirst.
Before departing, Garrett said to the elf who had come to see him off:
"If you ever find yourself traveling westward, please visit the stronghold located between Weathertop and the Last Bridge. You'll always find a warm welcome there."
During his stay, this elf had helped him considerably, and had even gifted him precious lembas. If the opportunity arose, Garrett genuinely wished to return such kindness.
Originally, he had wanted to give Erestor some valuable item as a token of appreciation, but he hadn't brought anything truly worthy on this journey. Offering raw gold or silver ingots directly seemed somewhat crude, so he decided to save such gestures for a future meeting.
There was one small regret: he hadn't encountered Aragorn.
At this time, Aragorn's presence in Rivendell was still kept secret, known only to a select few. Since Aragorn didn't reveal himself, and Lord Elrond made no mention of him, Garrett naturally couldn't broach the subject, there would be no way to explain such knowledge.
So that matter would have to wait for another time.
Journeys often began without ceremony.
He mounted his horse and departed Rivendell, heading westward toward home.
---
"Worthless maggots, every one of you! You cannot even defeat a single Man, what use are you?!"
Thunderous roars echoed through the cavern. Upon a massive stone throne sat a grotesquely bloated figure, glaring down at a cowering orc with murderous intensity.
This was none other than the Great Goblin, ruler of the orc tribes throughout the Misty Mountains.
That accursed human had already annihilated one raiding party sent from afar, and now had grown even bolder, striking right at their doorstep and destroying an entire cavalry unit.
It was brazen provocation, utterly intolerable.
For reasons unknown, the Great Goblin had developed a particular obsession with this troublesome human. Reports about him always reached the goblin chieftain with alarming frequency.
"But we encountered the elves..." the orc whimpered. "And now he dwells on elven territory."
"Then why didn't you attack where there are no pointed-ears?!"
"Uh?" The orc below looked thoroughly confused.
But the Great Goblin had already received intelligence from his scouts.
Watchers from west of the Trollshaws had discovered that the formidable stronghold where the human resided was now completely abandoned. Ever since the human departed, no smoke had risen from its chimneys. One orc had even crept close to the walls and listened, only animal sounds could be heard within, with no trace of human activity.
Another had hurled insults at the gate and thrown stones inside, but no one ever emerged in response.
"He's hiding with the elves, which means his fortress stands undefended. Go tear down his walls! Then lie in wait inside, I want to see his head mounted on a spike."
The Great Goblin issued his commands.
If I cannot crush you in open battle, I'll simply destroy your home instead.
Let's see how you run when you're lured back and walk straight into my trap.
