After the near-miss, the others rushed to the scene. As they looked at the corpses of the trolls strewn across the ground, Gandalf's expression grew solemn, but there was also a glimmer of surprise at Wayne's fighting abilities.
Compared to ordinary orcs, trolls are much more formidable in combat. Their skin is thick, almost petrified, making them resistant to ordinary weapons. Typically, it would take a group of seasoned warriors working in tandem to bring down even one of these creatures.
Yet Wayne had dispatched all of them with ease. One troll had even been blown apart, its remains emitting the distinct scent of burnt flesh. It was clear that these beasts had not been killed by conventional means.
"They're mountain trolls," Gandalf muttered, his gaze fixed on the remains. "Minions of darkness. They often ally themselves with orcs. I didn't expect the dark forces to spread here so quickly."
As he spoke, Gandalf pulled out the map he carried and unrolled it in the light of the campfire, gesturing for Thorin and Wayne to look. Their current position was still a few days from the Glen. Gandalf pointed to a location on the map and said to Thorin:
"Thorin, regarding the message left by your father, perhaps we should seek counsel from Elrond in Rivendell. He is the most learned and wise scholar in Middle-earth. He may provide answers to the riddles we face."
At the mention of the elves, however, Thorin's face darkened. The prince still harbored resentment over the elves' failure to aid him when the Lonely Mountain fell to Smaug. The complicated history between dwarves and elves stretched back thousands of years, filled with both cooperation and conflict.
Despite Gandalf's suggestion, Thorin's reluctance was evident. Wayne, observing the tension, tapped the map thoughtfully before speaking:
"Rivendell, you say? I'm rather intrigued by the place. Besides, after such a long journey, it might be wise to stop in a town to restock on supplies."
He added with a grin, "I'm sure Elrond would be generous enough to share some food and wine with warriors destined to defeat the evil dragon Smaug."
Gandalf, nodding, agreed. As a wizard who had known Elrond for centuries, he was confident that the half-elven lord would offer aid to anyone opposing the forces of darkness. The knowledge they needed to defeat Smaug could very well lie in Rivendell, and Gandalf wasn't willing to let Thorin's stubbornness derail the mission.
Seeing Thorin and the other dwarves still appear hesitant, Wayne decided to reveal a bit more:
"Actually, I've come across some information that I hadn't yet confirmed, but after encountering those trolls today, I believe it's accurate."
Wayne had already earned the respect of the group, and they listened intently as Gandalf stroked his beard and asked, "What have you found, Wayne?"
Wayne didn't hesitate to share what he had learned.
"As some of you may know, I have the ability to speak with animals. This allows me to ask birds and other creatures for information about the road ahead."
He continued, "Recently, some birds informed me that a group of beings far behind us had appeared. They were clad in armor, different from us, and armed with weapons. They also had wolf-like mounts at their side."
A sense of dread fell over the group as Wayne finished.
"It seems these beings are orcs. They've noticed our journey and are tracking us, likely planning an attack."
The revelation sent shockwaves through the company. Gandalf's face darkened immediately as he asked, "Are you certain, Wayne? How far away are they?"
Thorin, too, looked grim. Among their party, only Wayne and Thorin had armor, while the rest of the dwarves were outfitted with little more than weapons. Gandalf, though powerful, wasn't much of a fighter, and the thought of facing a siege by orcs with their limited defenses was unnerving.
Wayne replied carefully, "They're probably a day or two behind us. The birds aren't always the best at giving precise information, but they were clear enough about the threat."
Faced with this dangerous situation, Thorin and the dwarves relented. Their grievances with the elves in Rivendell weren't as deep as those with the elves of the Misty Mountains, and their mission to reclaim the Lonely Mountain took precedence over their pride.
Dwarves, though stubborn, were no fools. They understood that seeking the elves' help was a practical necessity in this dire situation.
While the others fretted over the approaching orcs, Wayne remained composed. In fact, he quietly welcomed the idea of the orcs catching up to them. With Deathclaw Robin by his side, Wayne was confident they could handle even a sizable orc force. In his mind, the orcs would be no match for him, and he was more than ready to cut them down.
However, Wayne also knew that if the orcs came in overwhelming numbers, protecting the others in the expedition would be a distraction. The dwarves would need to fend for themselves while he handled the brunt of the threat.
Guided by Gandalf, the group pressed on for two more days and eventually arrived at a vast, rocky plain. As they approached, a peculiar sight greeted them.
An old man, clad in a ragged brown robe, his hair matted with bird droppings, and reeking of wild animals, drove a wooden cart pulled by an enormous hare. He looked disheveled and muttered incoherently to himself.
The old man spotted Gandalf and suddenly brightened. Without hesitation, he pushed through the dwarves, ran up to the grey-robed wizard, and seemed desperate to say something.
As the words formed on Radagast's lips, the old brown-robed wizard stammered in confusion.
"Gandalf, I came to tell you some important news... but... when the words came to my lips, something strange happened. Now I can't remember!"
He scratched his head, bewildered, muttering, "Oh! What was it? I know it was important... but it's just slipped from my mind!"
Radagast, looking as disheveled and wild as ever, sat atop a rabbit-pulled cart, a sight that left the members of the expedition marveling. His tattered robe, covered in bird droppings and smelling of the forest, added to his eccentric appearance.
Seeing their confusion, Gandalf introduced the odd figure to the others. "This is the brown wizard Radagast. He's been keeping an eye on the movements of the orcs in the forest."
Upon hearing Radagast's name, the dwarves let out relieved sighs, though Wayne observed the scene with amused curiosity. The eccentric brown wizard intrigued him.
Middle-earth was home to five wizards, and Radagast was one of them. Of the five, Gandalf was the most active, often playing the role of strategist and wise guide, always working to unite others against the rising forces of darkness. Then there was Saruman, the white-robed wizard who, despite his initial strength and wisdom, would later betray the light out of fear, turning to Sauron and becoming an agent of evil.
Radagast, though, was more like a druid than a traditional wizard, closely connected to nature and creatures of the wild. He played a key role in the later battles, summoning tree-like creatures to help fend off orcs and other dark forces.
The other two, blue-robed wizards, were barely mentioned in the annals of Middle-earth. Neither the books nor the films revealed much about them, leading many to speculate that they either perished long ago or had also fallen to darkness.
Gandalf, chuckling at Radagast's absent-mindedness, approached the wizard and plucked a stick insect from Radagast's mouth. "This might help," he said with a grin. Once the bug was removed, Radagast regained his composure.
Now able to think clearly, Radagast relayed the grim news to Gandalf and the company.
As Gandalf had suspected, the dark forces were spreading out from Mordor. Orcs had left their strongholds, pillaging and killing across Middle-earth. Worse still, ancient evils—dark spirits, monstrous spiders, and undead creatures—were awakening, drawn to the growing shadow.
Most alarming, Radagast had discovered the presence of a necromancer in the dark fortress of Dol Guldur. He had even found an evil blade there, a sign that all pointed to a horrifying conclusion: Sauron, the Dark Lord who had once terrorized Middle-earth, was slowly returning to power. His resurrection would bring with it a new era of darkness.
The company was shaken by this revelation. Gandalf, however, looked the most troubled. Sauron was the sworn enemy of all the free peoples of Middle-earth. Countless lives had been lost to defeat him before, and now the world was on the brink of another war between light and darkness.
At that moment, a bone-chilling roar pierced the night air—a deep, ancient sound that echoed across the plains, sending a shiver through everyone present.
Before anyone could react, Wayne's expression shifted. He quickly drew his Sword of Victory from his space bracelet, the magical blade gleaming in the firelight. His gaze sharpened as he spoke to the group.
"That's Robin's signal. He's found the orcs."
Without waiting for a response, Wayne added, "Stay here and hide. Don't move until I've dealt with them."
Before anyone could protest, Wayne summoned his enchanted flying carpet. With a swift motion, he soared into the sky, disappearing toward the source of the roar, leaving the others staring in stunned silence.
Thorin and the others exchanged uneasy glances. Unwilling to let Wayne face the orcs alone, they quickly decided to follow him. Gandalf, Radagast, the dwarves, and Bilbo all hurried in the direction Wayne had flown.
When they reached the edge of the open plain, the sight before them left them awestruck.
Instead of attacking, dozens of wargs—wolf-like beasts ridden by orcs—were fleeing in terror, their monstrous forms scrambling desperately across the plains.
Chasing after them was Deathclaw Robin, a hulking, muscular creature, its claws gleaming like blades in the moonlight. With every powerful leap, Robin tore through the wargs as though they were nothing more than prey, ripping them apart with ease. The mighty creature moved with terrifying speed and ferocity, dispatching the orcs and their mounts as easily as a tiger pouncing on defenseless rabbits.
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