LOTR: The Mincraft Player

In Lake-town, no matter what happening in the wider world, the folk here always believed that living their own lives well was the most important thing. Life was already harsh and poor enough; no matter how big the events beyond their borders, such things couldn't make gold flow from the river.

The lake surrounding the town and the swift-flowing rivers were both the source of food for the residents and a barrier protecting them. As long as the bridges to the mainland were cut off, most enemy invasions could be stopped.

But such a method clearly wouldn't halt the orcs, at least, that was what Bard believed.

"Bain, gather everything of value at home and take your sisters. Leave this place. Go north, far from here, and seek out the dwarves."

"What's happened, Father? Why do we suddenly have to leave?"

Bain stared with wide eyes, a little lost and confused.

Bard immediately came over and placed his hands on Bain's shoulders, giving him serious instruction, "Listen well. An orc army is approaching. They bring slaughter and death. You absolutely must not remain here."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to evacuate the townsfolk. They have no idea of the disaster that's coming. Someone must warn them."

Bain opened his mouth to protest further, but under his father's stern gaze, he fell silent and obediently turned to protect their home.

"By the way, I recall there were two elves who came to our home. Where are they now?"

"They're still near Lake-town. They didn't leave."

---

At the lakeside bridge, gazing upon the town that often traded with the Woodland Realm, Legolas frowned. He had a bad feeling.

"I sense some shadow drawing near, Tauriel."

"Perhaps it's merely your imagination."

Unlike Legolas, Tauriel kept looking toward the north. She stroked a small object in her hand and slowly said, "They've been gone for quite some time. If something had befallen them, there would have been signs by now. Perhaps their quest is already complete."

They seemed to be talking about the same thing, or maybe not.

"Lord Legolas!"

Just then, an elf came riding swiftly from the distance. His voice arrived before he did. He stopped before the pair and addressed Legolas:

"His Majesty commands your return."

"What of Tauriel?"

"She has been banished from the realm."

"Tell my father, if Tauriel has no place among our people, then neither do I."

Hearing this, the messenger shook his head helplessly.

He couldn't force Legolas to do anything. Delivering the king's word was his only duty, and the only thing he could do.

"We're departing, Tauriel."

"Where shall we go?"

"Mount Gundabad."

"Why there?"

Legolas borrowed the messenger's horse and said to Tauriel, "That's where my mother fell in battle. I've never visited that place. My father refuses to speak of it."

"I wish to see it with my own eyes."

Tauriel didn't quite know what to say for a moment. This was a matter of royal grief, she had no right to offer counsel.

"Very well, I'll accompany you."

Almost the moment Legolas and Tauriel rode off, an old man in grey robes came galloping up the road. Upon spotting an elf standing awkwardly beside the bridge, he immediately dismounted.

"Well met, Grey Pilgrim," the elf greeted him respectfully.

"An elf of the Woodland Realm? What brings you to these parts?"

Gandalf appeared somewhat puzzled.

"I came to summon Lord Legolas home."

"Legolas? Ah, I know the prince. That lad has quite the temper. I assume it didn't go particularly well."

"Indeed not. He commandeered my horse and departed for Mount Gundabad."

"Mount Gundabad?!"

Gandalf's expression turned grave. "Why would he go there at such a time?"

"Foolish boy. There's no room for reckless acts with matters as they stand!"

Whoosh.

Just as his brow furrowed, he suddenly heard a familiar sound from above. It was like the fireworks he'd set off in the Shire the previous year, only the launching sound, without the explosion.

Looking up, he saw a figure gliding and circling through the sky. A moment later, it seemed to notice the grey-robed wizard on the ground and suddenly dove downward, plunging directly into the nearby waters.

"Gandalf? What brings you here?"

Garrett swam to shore, folded his elytra wings, and asked the question. He also nodded politely to the elf nearby.

"I might ask you the same. How fare things on your end?"

Seeing Garrett's arrival, Gandalf, somehow, felt a bit more at ease. The tension in his brow visibly relaxed.

"That dragon is already dead, Bard and I took it down together. Oh, you probably don't know Bard. He's a descendant of Girion, Lord of Dale. He was a huge help. With his Black Arrow heavily wounding the beast, I was able to finish it off easily."

"Indeed, that is truly remarkable news."

Gandalf considered for a moment and said, "In that case, our situation may prove more manageable. We can have the people of Lake-town seek refuge in Erebor. Those walls may not have held against a dragon, but they're more than sufficient against orcs. I assume by now Thorin has recovered the Arkenstone. If we can hold out until reinforcements arrive, we may yet defend this region."

"I was thinking the same," Garrett agreed.

Listening to their conversation, the nearby Woodland Elf began to appear increasingly alarmed. He quickly said, "Gandalf, might I borrow your horse?"

"Oh, if you need it, go ahead. I've reached my destination and no longer require it for travel."

"My thanks."

The elf left in haste, he clearly had much to report to the king.

"I must examine the situation in town. The people here remain ignorant of what approaches."

Gandalf hurried off to deliver the wizard's warning to the settlement.

"And you, Garrett? What brings you to these parts? Perhaps I can be of assistance."

"My goal's the same as yours. Actually, someone already arrived before me, Bard, the one I mentioned earlier. I was worried about him, so I came to check things out. But now that you're here, I guess I'm not needed."

Garrett once again unfolded his elytra and took out a firework, eager to perform a vertical takeoff.

"Where are you going?"

"To do what I'm best at, building walls. Maybe a few traps too."

Whoosh.

As the firework ignited with a sharp bang, the wings spread wide and, defying logic, launched Garrett into the air as he glided toward the Lonely Mountain.

"What kind of technique is that?"

Gandalf watched in fascination, but quickly returned his focus to the task at hand.

Yet before him, someone else had already assembled the townsfolk at the settlement's center.

"People of Lake-town, hear me!"

Bard called out, "An orc army marches toward us, they'll arrive within mere days. We cannot withstand them. We must begin evacuation immediately!"

The crowd erupted in anxious discussion. Though there was no concrete evidence, many citizens were already considering returning home to pack their belongings, trusting in Bard's word.

"But where can we possibly go?"

"To the Lonely Mountain. The King under the Mountain has pledged to grant us sanctuary."

"Lies and deception!"

Just as things were beginning to go smoothly, a sneering figure squeezed out from the crowd, clutching his swollen left eye, pointing at Bard who stood atop a platform.

"You thief! You escaped convict! The first thing you do upon breaking free is spread panic, attempting to disrupt the lives of honest townsfolk!"

"Alfrid, everything I've spoken is truth!"

"Oh. Even if our so-called 'champion of the people' speaks honestly, why should we go to a place where a fire-breathing dragon once dwelt? Are you attempting to feed Lake-town's citizens to the beast? If you ask me, this scheming fellow's already been bewitched by that dragon. He's back only to bring disaster to us! I'll have you arrested again!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than two armored guards stepped forward, ready to seize Bard.

"What he speaks is truth."

At the critical moment, an old man in a grey cloak pushed his way through, stood between them, and shouted to the crowd, "Fear not any dragon, good people. That beast has been slain, by this great archer, Bard, and the legendary warrior, Garrett. Erebor is secure!"

"Ohhh!"

Gandalf's words were not to be doubted. The crowd erupted in cheers, surging toward Bard in admiration.

"Dragon-slaying hero!"

They shouted, spreading the news excitedly.

Bard looked a bit helpless at the commotion. He raised his hands, trying to quiet the people.

"Peace!"

But before Bard could speak further, Alfrid exploded with fury. Sensing he was losing control of the situation, he pointed at Gandalf and shouted, "You ragged beggar from the wilderness! You decrepit wanderer! You think your wild tales will convince anyone? I'll tell you now, Lake-town's people will not move a single step from here! You—!"

Thud!

Without warning, Gandalf raised his staff and gave the snide man a sharp whack. Alfrid's eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.

The hit landed perfectly on his uninjured eye, giving him a matching black eye to complete the "panda look."

"I detest being called a beggar."