In LOTR with Harry Potter system

Just as Sylas found himself increasingly tempted by the idea of wielding a staff of his own, Gandalf leaned in with a twinkle in his eye.

"Sylas," he said with a grin, "would you do me a favor and craft a magic wand for me?"

Sylas blinked in surprise. "Gandalf, don't you already have a staff? Why would you need another one?"

The old wizard chuckled mischievously. "A wise Wizard always has a spare, doesn't he? If my staff were to break, or, Ilúvatar forbid, get lost, it would be good to have a backup. Besides," he added, voice lowering in a conspiratorial tone, "it never hurts to have a lighter one for travel."

Gandalf leaned back with a wink. "And in return, I'll craft a proper staff for you. What do you say?"

Sylas' eyes lit up. That was more than fair. Magic staffs were complex and powerful, requiring a rare magical gem to serve as their core. Compared to that, making a wand-style staff was simple work.

He quickly nodded. "That sounds like a great deal to me."

Gandalf smiled, but offered a word of caution. "Just a heads-up, magic gems aren't exactly lying around in flower beds. Most are held by Elves or buried in Dwarven vaults. It might take a while before I can find one suitable for your staff."

Sylas waved it off without hesitation. "It's fine, really. I'm not in a rush."

With that settled, the evening passed in warmth and conversation. Gandalf regaled Bilbo and Sylas with stories of his travels, of the fair towers of Rivendell, the golden trees of Lothlórien, the dense shadows of Mirkwood, and the jagged peaks of the Misty Mountains. He spoke of Elves dancing beneath starlit canopies, of Dwarves forging wonders deep beneath the earth, and of Men fighting to hold back darkness at the edge of their realms.

Bilbo sat wide-eyed, completely absorbed, a half-eaten biscuit forgotten in his hand. Sylas listened keenly too, though his thoughts occasionally wandered, wondering what magical rewards he might find if he traveled to these legendary places himself.

Noticing the glimmer of longing in both their eyes, Gandalf smiled softly. Then, with a deliberate pause, he made his proposal.

"Sylas, Bilbo," he said, voice serious yet inviting, "aside from delivering Thráin II's relics to his son, I intend to gather a company to journey to the Lonely Mountain, to investigate the dragon Smaug, and perhaps more. I'd like to invite you both to join me on this adventure."

Bilbo's face turned pale. "Adventure?" he blurted, nearly dropping his biscuit. "No, no, no! I'm not going on an adventure! I'm a Baggins of Bag End! Adventures are… messy, uncomfortable, and make one late for dinner!"

Gandalf didn't flinch at the rejection. He only smiled knowingly and leaned forward.

"Bilbo, I'm not asking you to pack your bags this instant. But think, really think..about what your heart desires. You've read so many tales. Haven't you ever dreamed of walking in one? The blood of the Tooks runs in your veins. Your ancestors rode with Elves and battled trolls. Don't you want to inherit their spirit?"

Bilbo wavered. For a moment, something in his blood stirred, a warmth, a flicker of boldness long buried beneath layers of routine and comfort. His Tookish side whispered to him, louder than usual, and he felt his heart thump with the unfamiliar rhythm of adventure.

Standing nearby, Sylas noticed the change and, as his eyes drifted toward Gandalf's hand, he had a sudden hunch. Although nothing seemed out of place to the eye, he strongly suspected that Gandalf had just used the power of Narya, the Ring of Fire.

From what Sylas knew, Narya was one of the legendary Three Elven Rings. While it was forged to command the element of fire, its true strength lay in its power to kindle courage, hope, and resolve in others. A subtle push of the spirit, as if reminding weary hearts of the strength they already carried.

Long ago, the Dark Lord Sauron, disguised as Annatar, the Lord of Gifts, beguiled the Elves with fair form and sweet words. With their trust, he taught them to forge the Rings of Power, seven for the Dwarves, nine for mortal Men. Into these, Sauron wove hidden corruption, binding their bearers to his will.

Then, in secret, he forged the One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom, to rule them all.

But the Elven smith Celebrimbor, realizing the dark game too late, defied the Dark Lord. He forged three rings in secret, Narya, the Ring of Fire; Nenya, the Ring of Water; and Vilya, the Ring of Air, untainted by Sauron's touch, yet still bound to the fate of the One.

Thus, the Three came to be held by Galadriel of Lothlórien, Elrond of Rivendell, and Gandalf the Grey.

Galadriel used Nenya to protect the Golden Wood, keeping Lothlórien in eternal bloom and shielding it from evil. Elrond, with Vilya, made Rivendell a haven of peace and healing, one of the last refuges of the Elves.

And Gandalf, bearer of Narya, carried its fire through the world, not to burn, but to ignite hearts, to spark resistance against the encroaching dark, to give men and Elves and Hobbits the courage to fight.

Sylas quietly admired the idea of such powerful relics. Were they unclaimed and unguarded, he might have been tempted to seek them out. But he knew better. The Three Elven Rings were no trinkets to be coveted; they were bound by fate, wielded only by those chosen, or burdened by destiny.

His musings returned to the present. Narya truly did inspire courage, but its effect was far weaker on someone like Bilbo Baggins.

After all, Bilbo was no ordinary Hobbit. He would one day carry the One Ring itself for decades, and never fall. His heart, though small and peaceful, was made of sterner stuff than most would guess.

And so, even as the fire of courage flickered in him, Bilbo's deeper nature, the one that loved quiet mornings, full pantries, and second breakfasts won out.

"The Tookish spirit?" he muttered. "That was my great-great-great-granduncle's business, long ago. I'm just a Baggins now, and quite happy to stay that way."

He shook his head resolutely and looked up at Gandalf with a stubborn frown. "Adventures make one late for dinner, Gandalf. And they're dreadfully uncomfortable. I'm staying right here, thank you very much."

Seeing that Bilbo remained utterly unmoved by the Ring of Fire's influence, Gandalf was quietly taken aback. Most folk, even Elves, would have felt something stir within their hearts. But Bilbo? The Hobbit's resistance was as stout as his appetite. With a sigh and a faint chuckle, Gandalf let the matter rest, for now.

Instead, he turned to Sylas.

"Well then, Sylas," he said, eyes gleaming with a curious mix of mischief and wisdom. "What about you? Would you be willing to join our little adventure?"

Sylas hadn't expected such a straightforward invitation. A flicker of excitement rose within him, but he didn't leap to answer. Instead, he asked cautiously, "Gandalf, if I'm to join the company, what exactly would you want of me?"

Gandalf's expression grew serious, and the sparkle in his eyes shifted to something deeper.

"This journey will take us through many wild and perilous places," he said. I would like to ask you to protect the team and ensure their safe arrival at the Lonely Mountain when I am not present."

Sylas frowned. "You're not staying with the group?"

"I may not be able to," Gandalf admitted, his voice low. "On my way back through the Misty Mountains, I saw troubling signs. The Orcs there are multiplying unnaturally fast. And worse, they're organized. Too organized. That only happens when a new king rises among them."

"There have been whispers," Gandalf continued, "of dark powers stirring in that ruin. The Necromancer, they call him. I fear that evil long thought defeated may be finding new strength. I must look into it."

"So, while you're away," Sylas said slowly, "you want me to protect the others. Keep the company safe on the road to the Lonely Mountain."

Gandalf nodded gravely. 

"All right," Sylas said with calm resolve, "I'm willing to join the company."

Gandalf's eyes lit up. He clapped his hands together with delight and declared, "Splendid! Then welcome, Sylas, to the Lonely Mountain Expedition!"