Middle Earth Gamer

Troll cave

With the trolls turned to stone and the danger past, the Company finally allowed themselves to breathe easy. The morning light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the clearing where the three trolls stood frozen in mid-roar. It was a sight that none of them would soon forget."Let's hope that's the last we see of trolls," muttered Dwalin, rubbing his sore shoulder where a troll had thrown him."Agreed," Thorin replied, glancing around at the clearing. Then his eyes settled on a shadowed corner, where a large, filthy tarp lay over what looked to be a pile of discarded belongings. "They might have been more trouble than they're worth," he said with a wry smile, "but perhaps they've left something useful behind."The dwarves perked up, curiosity flashing in their eyes. Together, they pulled back the tarp, revealing the spoils the trolls had hoarded over the years. Scattered coins, a handful of rough-cut gems, various tools and trinkets, and, most intriguingly, several weapons lay before them.Thorin reached down and pulled out a sword with a gleaming silver blade, its handle marked with intricate designs. He held it up, admiring the craftsmanship, but the style was unfamiliar to him."What have we here?" he asked, turning the sword over in his hands.Gandalf stepped forward, his gaze curious as he examined the blade. "I cannot say for certain, but this sword bears the markings of Elvish craftsmanship. It's likely from a time long before even I walked these lands."Thorin's brow furrowed as he held the sword aloft, inspecting the light that seemed to ripple along its edge. "Elves," he said with a hint of disdain. "Their work is beautiful, but I've no fondness for their ways."Gandalf raised an eyebrow, recognizing Thorin's discomfort. "True, their ways differ from ours, but Elvish weapons are deadly to creatures of darkness. It might serve you well.""I'll wield it," Thorin said, his voice grudging, "but I won't forget who made it."As the others continued exploring the hoard, Taranis noticed a faint glint buried beneath a pile of leather scraps. He knelt down and uncovered the hilt of another sword. This one was darker, with an almost otherworldly sheen. The blade was slender but powerful, crafted with an elegance that felt foreboding.Gandalf looked at the sword in Taranis's hands, and his face grew serious. "A rare weapon," he murmured, though his gaze held a trace of uncertainty. "I've not seen its like. It bears an unusual presence—a relic from some age lost to history."Taranis frowned, studying the sword closely. It seemed to hum faintly in his grip, as if it held a life of its own. "Do you think it has... a purpose?" he asked."Power, perhaps, but as for its nature, I cannot say," Gandalf replied, his voice low. "It may magnify your strength or skill, but be cautious. Weapons of this kind are often forged with intent, and they do not always submit easily to their wielder."Taranis nodded, feeling a strange sense of responsibility as he tightened his grip on the hilt. "I'll be careful."Meanwhile, Bilbo had wandered a short distance away and found something shiny partially buried in the dirt. He reached down and uncovered a small dagger, lifting it with both hands. "What's this?" he asked, eyes wide with wonder.Gandalf turned, his expression one of curiosity and faint recognition. "It's a blade, that much is certain, and it seems well-crafted. Likely Elvish, if I'm not mistaken. Small enough for you, Bilbo. You should keep it."Bilbo looked at the dagger in awe, turning it over in his hands. "I'll take good care of it," he promised, already feeling a sense of responsibility wash over him.Balin let out a delighted chuckle as he unearthed a fist-sized ruby from the pile. "This ought to brighten our journey! If only we could carry all of it."With their new weapons in hand—Thorin with his sword, Bilbo with his small dagger, and Taranis with the mysterious dark blade—the Company felt a renewed sense of purpose. As they prepared to leave the trolls' clearing, Taranis glanced at Gandalf. "Thank you for your guidance. This feels like a sign."Gandalf smiled knowingly, placing a hand on Taranis's shoulder. "Every adventure shapes who you are, Taranis Storm. Embrace it."With their treasures gathered and spirits lifted, the Company moved back onto the path, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them on their journey to reclaim Erebor. Taranis walked beside Gandalf, feeling a mixture of pride and trepidation as he carried the strange sword. He understood that the road ahead would test him, but with his new companions and their newfound weapons, he felt ready for whatever lay ahead.