In the early morning, everyone packed up their bags and left the town of Bree as the rising sun cast its first light over the land.
Roland furrowed his brows as he studied the map, his eyes fixed on the dark expanse of woodland to the west of the Misty Mountains along the East-West Avenue.
"The Troll Forest?" Roland's voice carried a hint of concern. Trolls, both fearsome and iconic, were known to inhabit that treacherous territory, a crucial element in the tales of hobbits and adventurers alike. The three elf swords glinted in the sunlight—Gramdrin, Oakrest, and Stinger, a weapon for Bilbo alone.
"There is malevolence lurking within those woods..." Gandalf's presence materialized beside Roland, his words ominous.
"Trolls? My knights will make short work of them!" Roland's resolve hardened.
"I hope so..." Gandalf's gaze lingered on Roland, his expression unreadable.
Alerted by Roland's command, the company readied themselves, tightening their belts, fastening their swords, and preparing their bows for battle.
"Stay vigilant, stay focused. Do not falter in the face of danger. Let your shields be your shield, and keep moving—never stand still!" Roland's voice rang out, his words a beacon of strength.
As the group prepared to face the perils ahead, Carlos approached Roland with news.
"My lord, some of our knights are on the brink of advancement," Carlos murmured, his eyes alight with anticipation.
Roland's eyes gleamed with pride. The prospect of his apprentice knights ascending to full knighthood filled him with a sense of accomplishment.
With the night drawing near, a sense of unease settled over the camp. As the fire crackled and shadows danced, the company gathered around, their minds filled with tales of valor and treachery.
"Rest well, for tomorrow we face the unknown," Roland's voice broke through the quiet night, a promise of challenges to come.
But as the night deepened and whispers of danger crept through the camp, Roland's worst fears were realized.
"Someone is missing!" The cry cut through the darkness, sending a ripple of fear through the company.
In the chaos that followed, Roland sprang into action, his sword drawn, his resolve unwavering.
"Reynold! Rouse the knights, ready them for battle!" Roland's command echoed through the night, his eyes fixed on the looming threat.
As the company braced themselves for the battle ahead, Roland's gaze fell on Thorin, a silent plea for understanding passing between them.
"Stay sharp, for the trolls will not be kind to trespassers," Roland's voice held a note of urgency as he scanned the faces of his companions.
And so the stage was set for the showdown in the Troll Forest, a clash of steel and shadows, a test of courage and valor that would echo through the ages.
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DROP SOME STONE