LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

"Almost there. No one make a sound."

At the front gates of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin crept forward, leading the company of dwarves with deliberate steps and hushed breaths.

The path was familiar to him, etched into memory from years of longing.

"I remember this road. Follow me," he whispered, stepping carefully.

"Wait... what's that hole?" one of the dwarves asked, pointing at a strange, unnatural-looking tunnel in the wall.

Thorin's brow furrowed. "That wasn't here before."

"Looks kinda familiar, though. You don't think... maybe we've seen this sort of thing somewhere else?" another dwarf added, squinting.

"Eric?"

"Let's head in!" Thorin said at once, drawing his sword. Without waiting for a second opinion, he charged through the opening.

BOOM!

The dull echoes of crashing stone and metal rumbled faintly through the halls. A dragon's snarl echoed faintly, followed by the unmistakable roar of fire erupting and dying away.

"...That can't be good," muttered a dwarf, the pieces clicking together with dawning dread.

They moved closer, drawn by the commotion, until they were stopped by a wall of smooth, unfamiliar stone.

"This wasn't here," Thorin said slowly, shaking his head. "This hallway used to lead straight to the cellars. There was never a wall, especially not one this color."

"It's the same color as Eric's castle walls," Bofur noted grimly.

"Check that puddle, exactly two meters by two meters. Pretty clear who made it," another dwarf said as he dipped a finger into the water. It sparkled unnaturally clean, like something from an elven fountain.

"Over here, another passage!"

The moment someone spotted another tunnel, all attention shifted. The dwarves gathered around its mouth.

One brave soul leaned in. Darkness swallowed the tunnel beyond, with only the faintest light glinting off what looked like loose rubble at the end.

"Should we go in?"

Thorin nodded and stepped forward.

Suddenly, a flash of red light flared deep within the tunnel. His instincts screamed. Thorin dove aside and bellowed, "Back!"

WHOOSH--

A wall of fire burst from the tunnel, then vanished just as fast. One unlucky dwarf who moved a second too late found his beard a little crispier than before.

"You can't kill me!"

The furious roar of the dragon thundered from inside. The cavern trembled under its rage.

"That's Smaug!" Thorin gasped. He couldn't wait any longer. "Move! With me!"

The dwarves surged forward.

Thwip!

A flaming arrow whizzed through the air and struck Smaug square in the eye.

It bounced off with a dull clink.

The dragon barely blinked.

Flaming arrows, fire-aspected weapons, none of it worked. Of course not. It was a fire dragon. Shooting fire at Smaug was like trying to drown a fish.

And as Smaug had so helpfully reminded them in one of his many monologues, his scales were tougher than ten-layer dwarven plate armor. The game stats would call it something like "Armor Rating: Overkill."

The only weakness was the missing scale over his heart. And despite Eric having worn out half the bow's durability, the enchanted diamond embedded in that scale hadn't so much as wobbled.

"You startled me for a moment, Steve. For a second there, I almost mistook you for a warrior of the Elder Days," Smaug sneered mid-battle.

"You might know a few clever tricks, but compared to those heroes… you're barely a squire."

"And that sword… it's decent, I suppose. Shame it's in your hands. You don't even have half the strength of the last man I killed wielding one like it."

The dragon rambled, tossing snide remarks as casually as it hurled fire. His trash talk was relentless, and it was clear he wasn't just trying to insult, he was trying to break Eric's focus.

"If I were you, I'd shut that scaly trap before I ram this sword so deep down your throat you'll be whistling iron for the rest of your miserable life," Eric shot back, letting another fire-tipped arrow fly.

Smaug caught it between his teeth, chewed once, and swallowed.

"Mmm. Tastes like chicken. Got any more?"

Eric nearly threw his bow at him in frustration.

CLANG!

He slammed his sword down on Smaug's claw with a resounding crack. The dragon recoiled, actually hissing in pain.

"You insolent little--!"

And just like that, the fight was back on. Steel clashed with claw, and the corridor echoed with the chaos of war.

Since Smaug had realized Eric was completely immune to fire, the dragon had mostly abandoned his flaming breath, only letting it loose occasionally out of habit. Instead, he focused on physical combat, charging, swiping, biting. His ivory fangs glinted like blades, his claws sharp as spears.

One powerful bite even dented Eric's armor and dropped his health bar a smidge.

Still, Eric wasn't in serious danger. Smaug's blows were heavy, but nowhere near the crushing power of Sauron's. With a little sidestepping and a couple loaves of lembas, Eric could keep himself topped off.

Smaug, however, wasn't regenerating anything. His health bar ticked down in slow, stubborn slivers, barely noticeable unless you were really paying attention.

It was a battle of attrition. And Eric was winning.

All he had to do was hold out. Maybe trap Smaug's retreat. That would seal the deal. Easier said than done, though.

"I'll admit it, you have some skill," Smaug growled, now circling cautiously, changing tactics.

Gone was the reckless fury. Now he was playing smart, darting in and out, hitting from angles, keeping Eric guessing.

Smaug wasn't some programmed boss with a single attack pattern. He could think. He could adapt. When brute force didn't work, he switched to trickery, psychology, even dragon-magic. He peppered Eric with muttered incantations and mind games, trying to distract and demoralize.

So far, it wasn't working. But it wasn't for lack of effort.

"My king… am I dreaming?"

Just then, a new group stumbled into the edge of the fray, dwarves. Lots of them. And one very bewildered hobbit.

"Eric's… fighting that giant dragon?"

"And they're… evenly matched?"

The company of dwarves stood frozen, stunned all over again by Eric's absurd power. He just got stronger the more danger he faced. His actual combat ability was now anyone's guess.

Bilbo stood gaping, jaw slack. Words utterly failed him.

Well, all but one dwarf.

"Forget that, why in Durin's name did he wake the beast in the first place?! We were supposed to sneak in, steal the gem, and raise an army, not pick a fight with the dragon!"

Thorin's voice was filled with disbelief and fury. Their entire plan had just gone up in smoke. Literal smoke.

"Well, well… what do we have here?" Smaug sniffed the air. "Ah, the sweet scent of dwarf… delightful."

Eric's eyes widened. He turned sharply.

There they were, all huddled near the tunnel mouth like a bunch of startled marmots.

"Back! Get back!"

Right as he shouted, a column of fire blasted toward them.

To their credit, the dwarves reacted fast. They yanked Bilbo down and dove in every direction, rolling, scrambling, dodging in ways that would have made a cat burglar proud. It wasn't graceful, but it worked.

"Move!"

Eric slapped a bucket of water against the wall. Instantly, the enchanted water stretched out and cascaded down like a curtain, forming a shimmering veil of protection.

He herded the dwarves behind it, dragging them back toward the council chamber, away from the inferno.