LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

The prison door slammed shut once again. Alfrid, still unconscious, was unceremoniously tossed inside. Before leaving, the dwarves stuffed the window with rubbish to block the view from outside.

"Perfect."

The group snuck back to Bard's house and retrieved the black arrow.

"This thing's basically a giant spear. No ordinary bow is going to launch it."

"We'll need the wind-lance in the town square," Bard said, lifting his eyes toward the distant tower.

The dwarves followed his gaze.

"That's a real war machine," one of them muttered. "I can tell just by looking."

"Wait, are we planning to bring the dragon here?" someone asked in alarm.

"No, that would bring too much destruction to Lake-Town," Bard replied firmly.

"So... borrow the weapon from the Master of the town?"

Bard gave them a look. "Given how the people feel about him these days, do you think he'll just lend us a siege weapon?"

"Honestly," a dwarf scoffed, "what kind of idiots are running this place?"

"I say we take it," another grinned.

"Exactly! Grab it and go!"

"Let's move!"

"Wait, wait," Bard cut in quickly, waving his hands. "That tower is guarded. Heavily."

"We wait till night," he explained. "Only a few patrols then, and there's usually a long gap between them. We'll have time to move it."

"No time for that, Bard," Thorin said gravely. "We can wait. The dragon can't. Right now it's down there dreaming of roasting this entire town."

"The sooner the better. And no number of guards can stop a determined dwarf."

Bard sighed. "Fine. Let's do it."

Without wasting another moment, and using the route Bard provided, the group slipped through Lake-Town's alleys until they reached the base of the tower where the wind-lance was kept. Locals eyed them with curiosity, especially when they saw Bard among them.

"Bard? Weren't you in prison...?"

"Shhh!"

"I've got something important to do."

The townsfolk exchanged glances, then, as if a silent agreement passed among them, began helping.

"Guards incoming!"

"Oh no, my fruit stall!"

One resident gave a dramatic yelp and 'accidentally' toppled their entire display into the street just as a patrol approached.

"Oh dear, how long will this take to clean up?!"

"I'll help!"

People rushed over, crowding the scene with helpful chaos. Minutes stretched on. The guards grumbled, trying to squeeze past, but the mess just never seemed to clear.

By the time they forced their way through the crowd, the dwarves were long gone.

Inside the watchtower, two unconscious guards had been dragged into hay bales and concealed. The dwarves had already climbed the stairs.

"But how are we supposed to carry this thing?" Bard whispered, staring at the wind-lance, massive and reinforced with dwarven steel.

"Ha! You underestimate dwarves," one of them laughed. "This was built with our craftsmanship. We know exactly how to take it apart."

This particular company, though hardy, wasn't made up of warriors alone, many were smiths and artisans. And tonight, that proved far more useful.

In minutes, the enormous ballista was carefully dismantled into parts of manageable size, which the dwarves strapped to their backs with practiced ease.

"Let's move!"

Back at the prison, someone was banging furiously on the locked door.

"Open up! I said open this door!"

A patrolling guard shouted back. "Shut it! You're not getting out unless the Master says so!"

"You fools! You don't even recognize Lake-Town's Deputy when he's been locked up! Get me out this instant!"

Huh?

The guards glanced at each other. One of them poked at the trash stuffed into the barred window, then peered inside. Sure enough, there was a very swollen, very familiar face scowling up at them.

The door swung open in an instant.

"Quick! Bard has escaped! That treasonous archer's on the loose!"

Lake-town erupted into a flurry of activity. Patrols mobilized, search parties ran in every direction, and the streets echoed with the sound of boots and shouted orders.

But Bard? Nowhere to be found.

In fact, the guards found themselves facing obstacle after obstacle. Flowerpots toppled across walkways. Fishing nets mysteriously tangled in alleys. Ropes, buckets, and carts appeared in all the worst places. At every turn, something slowed them down.

By nightfall, not a single trace of Bard had been found.

He and the dwarves were already long gone.

On the road out of Laketown, Balin chatted quietly with Bard as they marched toward Erebor.

"I must admit, I underestimated your influence, Bard."

"With your reputation, you could probably dethrone that Master without lifting a finger. The people would do it for you."

"Maybe," Bard muttered, gaze distant.

The dragon-slaying weapon was now on its way to the Lonely Mountain.

But Eric wasn't betting everything on one arrow, no matter how legendary. A single shot to the heart was ideal, but if that failed, they'd need alternatives.

Using the directions Thorin gave him, Eric quietly tunneled his way into the forges beneath the mountain, right under Smaug's snout.

"Oh... hello, beautiful," he whispered.

The room was a dwarf's dream: stockpiles of materials, half-finished weapons, tools everywhere. Eric looked like a cat that had fallen into a barrel of fish oil.

[Recipe Unlocked: Flameburst Bomb]

He grinned as he examined some of the leftover casings and unfinished explosives. Even as scrap, they were enough to unlock the crafting recipe.

The Flameburst Bomb wasn't nearly as strong as TNT, only about 8 points of damage and a small blast radius, but it had perks.

It could be thrown. No placing, no fuse time. Just lob and boom.

Even better, it came with a special effect: blindness.

Anyone staring at it when it detonated would be flash-blinded for several seconds. Just long enough to reposition, escape - or stab something very large in a soft spot.

In short, it was Middle-earth's answer to a flashbang.

Eric tossed a few into his inventory, then cracked open another supply crate.

Sulfur, saltpeter, charcoal. Fully mixed powder. Even paper. Yes, actual paper.

They say paper can't cover fire. But it can wrap gunpowder.

With a grin, Eric got to work.

By the end of the hour, he had a full stack of TNT, a dozen flameburst bombs, and even a few experimental fireworks for... morale reasons.