—Bilbo's Point of View—
We walk through the dense forest as a group, my eyes wandering curiously over our surroundings. Of course, there are forests back in the Shire, and I know them like the back of my hand. But this—this is a forest new to me, one I am discovering for the first time. Even earlier this morning, while tracking with Kili and Fili, I had been studying the area around us. I can't help but wonder—will I see something extraordinary here? Perhaps a unicorn, perhaps a phoenix, or even the Great Eagles. The thought sends a shiver of excitement through me!
At the same time, I find myself practicing the scouting techniques I've been learning from Gilan and Halt, which are slowly becoming habit. I note possible escape routes should something go wrong, good hiding spots, vantage points for an ambush, as well as any natural barriers or traps I might use to my advantage.
For instance, just two days ago Gandalf showed me a thicket of poisonous vine. Not the kind that merely makes you itch—no, this one carried a highly acidic, thorny sap. If you brushed its stalk, a purple, venomous liquid would spurt out from the thorns. Gandalf explained that this plant had many uses—both for healing and for killing. Alchemists, he said, pay handsomely for it. He even stored a few vines in what he called his "spatial pouch." Ah, I only just learned of such things! Apparently, certain rune-masters or wizards can create storage spaces the size of small rooms, and embed them within rings, pouches, chests, bracelets, necklaces, or bangles. Isn't that astonishing? To think, carrying an entire room—or even a house—within a pouch or ring, and filling it with whatever you like. The idea utterly fascinates me! Someday, I must get one of my own. There's so much to learn in this wide world beyond the Shire, and I am positively itching to explore it!
After about twenty minutes of walking, we came upon troll tracks. Gilan and Fili crouched to study them. Fili spoke first:
"I think they've gone east… which is a problem. The troll cave lies right on our path. If Gandalf weren't with us, we'd be in for quite a bit of trouble. What do you think, Gilan?"
Gilan frowned, carefully studying the trail before answering.
"…I agree. Eastward. Let's move. We've got about five hours until sunset."
He set off again, and we followed. Fili, curiosity in his voice, asked,
"What's your plan, Gilan?"
Gilan thought for a moment before replying.
"My plan is this… if we find the cave while there's still sunlight, we'll build a fire right at the entrance and cover it with herbs."
Before he could explain further, Doğan cut in.
"I see. You mean to fill the cave with smoke—either suffocate the trolls where they stand, or drive them out into the daylight so they turn to stone."
Gilan grinned at him.
"Exactly. It's good to be surrounded by clever people."
Doğan grinned back.
"Agreed."
Bamsı, however, muttered with a slight sigh, almost sulky.
"But that would be such an easy victory…"
My eyebrow twitched. He was right beside me, and I don't think anyone else heard him. I decided to ignore it and instead asked curiously,
"Will it work?"
Gilan shrugged, glancing at me.
"Who knows? It'll be my first time hunting trolls. There were none in my homeland."
Doğan nodded.
"Same in mine. No trolls there either."
Gilan turned to Kili and Fili.
"You two are the experienced ones. What do you think?"
The brothers had taken part in countless mercenary jobs alongside other sellswords. If anyone knew about trolls, it would be them. Fili thought for a moment, then answered:
"To be honest, we've only hunted trolls once. But that was a hill troll—its hide is thin. Easy enough to kill with axe or sword. Even a spear can pierce its skin.But a cave troll—that's different. Their hides are second only to mountain trolls, thick as stone. Our weapons would hardly scratch them; it would be like a splinter at best. Still, your plan may work, Gilan. Trolls have to breathe like the rest of us."
Kili nodded in agreement.
"I agree… but there's no guarantee it will work. No one has ever tried such a thing. Cave trolls live deep within their caverns, only emerging to hunt and stockpile food. This is the first time we've seen them so far south. In the north, it's the orcs, vampires, and other creatures that are active. That's why there haven't been any human settlements, dwarf strongholds, or elven kingdoms in the north for over a thousand years. Truth is, information about the north is murky.Because of the Black Great Orcs, crossing into the north is nearly impossible."
Both Gilan and Doğan looked surprised. Gilan asked,
"Why is that?"
Fili only shrugged.
"I don't know exactly. Mercenaries don't deal with such matters. Our job is simple: take the contract, complete it, get paid. That's all."
Kili nodded.
"If you're truly curious, best ask my uncle or Balin. But I do recall my uncle once saying the Black Great Orcs had established some kind of blockade on the lands of old Arnor, making entry into the north near impossible."
Gilan frowned, looking thoughtful, then let out a heavy sigh.
"Never mind. Our task is to head east, reach Erebor. For now, Arnor's lands are none of our concern."
Bamsı looked at Fili with curiosity.
"And just how strong are these Black Great Orgs you speak of?"
Doğan sighed irritably.
"Orgs? No, orcs! O-R-C!"
Bamsı only shrugged and grinned.
"That's what I said, brother."
Truth be told, I was curious myself. I looked to Fili. He glanced at Bamsı and explained:
"They're powerful and cunning. Before they reach adulthood, they're trained in military strategy and leadership. Once grown, they hunt. Even the weakest Black Great Orc can kill a mountain troll single-handed. There are even rumors of one that slew a wyvern."
I gasped.
"Rumors? But I thought there was no contact with the north? How could you hear such things?"
Fili's expression darkened. He spat on the ground.
"Two ways. First, you capture an orc or goblin from the north and force information out of them. Second… from traders."
All of us—except Kili—looked stunned. Gilan asked in disbelief:
"Traders!? You mean there are people who sell goods to orcs?"
Fili and Kili looked visibly disturbed by this, as though the very subject disgusted them. Kili spat on the ground angrily.
"Yes! Those money-grubbing swine! As long as there's coin to be made, they don't care who they deal with!"
Fili sighed.
"It's impossible to trade with ordinary orcs. But the Black Great Orcs are not ordinary. They've built their own nation in Mount Gram, in Arnor's old lands. They're ruled by an Orc King, with a proper, disciplined army—not just rabble. Their city, so we've heard, is built into the mountains like the dwarves do, with great walls.Conquering it by siege would be nearly impossible. Their city even resembles those of men—markets, trade, production. This is why they're so dangerous. They are creatures capable of order and governance.Merchants are allowed entry into their kingdom, and are even protected. If any tribe dares attack a caravan under the Orc King's protection, that tribe is utterly annihilated."
Kili added grimly,
"There are also rumors they've established a military fortress in Carn Dûm, where many orc tribes are gathering and preparing."
I swallowed hard. Weren't orcs supposed to be mindless brutes? How could they be so organized? I looked at Fili.
"And the elves? How do they allow this?"
Fili spat again, scorn and fury in his voice.
"Those long-eared ****! As long as it doesn't touch them directly, they don't lift a finger!"
Kili cleared his throat.
"They did try, once, to hunt down the Black Great Orcs. But they failed. Elves are strong, Bilbo, but their numbers dwindle. Sauron and the vampires have cost them dearly. If you want to know more, speak with Balin."
Gilan sighed, rubbing his temples.
"For now, let's focus on our task. These matters don't concern us yet."
The group seemed in agreement, though a question burned in my own mind. Before I could speak, Bamsı beat me to it:
"So, what's a wyvern, then?"
Fili looked at him and explained:
"A wyvern is a subspecies of dragon—though in truth, they're not truly dragons. They have two legs instead of four. Dragons are ancient and wise; wyverns are brutish, witless beasts. Half-dragon might be a better term. They act purely on instinct, wild and aggressive. Their necks are long and serpentine, their tails likewise long, tipped with a venomous stinger. They can breathe fire, shatter cottages with the gusts of their wings, their teeth sharp as razors, their jaws immensely powerful. In the air, they are agile, capable of swift maneuvers. Their scales, though not as impenetrable as true dragons, are still thick enough that no ordinary sword can cut through. They cannot be hunted alone—not unless you are of the most elite rank or higher. That is why the rumor is absurd: not even a freshly matured Black Great Orc could fell such a beast alone. A single wyvern can destroy a town, perhaps even wreak havoc upon a city."
Gilan spoke thoughtfully.
"…It wouldn't be impossible to kill one, though—not directly."
Both Fili and Kili stared at him, shocked. Kili burst out:
"Gilan, didn't you hear what we just said? To bring down a full-grown wyvern requires at least ten mid-rank elite warriors—and even then, the odds are only fifty-fifty!"
Gilan smirked and flicked Kili's forehead.
"Ah!"
Kili clutched his brow, glaring at him. Gilan said,
"Fool. You speak only of a direct assault. I speak of killing, not fighting—just as we plan to do with the trolls."
Fili frowned.
"You mean… if a Black Great Orc really did slay a wyvern, he couldn't have done it head-on."
Gilan nodded.
"Exactly. There are many ways. Poisoning its drinking water, for example—or striking it with a poisoned arrow."
Fili nodded reluctantly."A poisoned arrow, perhaps. But wyverns can sense poison in water by instinct. That would never work."
Gilan continued,"Or he might use other creatures to weaken the wyvern before moving in for the kill."
Fili shuddered, staring at him.
"Remind me never to provoke you, Gilan."
Gilan chuckled.
"To fight something stronger than yourself head-on is foolish. Victory requires strategy. Brute force is not always the answer."
Bamsı, absentmindedly twirling his mustache, muttered under his breath—so softly only I heard:
"Hmm… I wonder if a fellow could wrestle one of those wyverns…"
…I stopped thinking. You carry on.
---Five minutes later---
Gilan suddenly halted and spoke.
"Kili, Bilbo, come here."
Kili and I exchanged a nervous glance, swallowing hard. Gilan was clearly testing us! We walked over to him, and he grinned as he looked straight at me.
"Bilbo, the tracks on the ground—what are they? You have one minute!"
I flinched and quickly dropped to my knees, examining the prints in the soft earth. There were Y-shaped footprints of two different sizes. I studied them carefully. Ever since I had started learning archery, I had gone on hunts with Gilan and Halt, and they had taught me about certain tracks. I knew what this was.
"This… a rabbit?"
Gilan smirked.
"Well done! Correct! Now, what do you see in this rabbit track?"
I bent over again, frowning as I studied both the fore and hind prints. Rabbits have small forepaws but long, Y-shaped hind feet. Thanks to those hind feet, I was certain. And rabbits were everywhere—easy prey to spot. Perhaps a little beginner's luck was on my side.
"Hmm… the front paw is about four centimeters, the hind about eight… which means this is an adult rabbit. The edges are sharp, not scattered—so the track is fresh. The steps are straight and evenly spaced, which means it was moving calmly. When frightened, rabbits lengthen their stride and dart away in zigzags."
Gilan chuckled, patting my head.
"Exactly right! Next is Kili. You'd better be ready—Bilbo was very lucky."
At that moment, Doğan's voice called out from ahead.
"You're in luck! There are more tracks here!"
The three of us looked toward Doğan. Gilan chuckled, while Kili lowered his head with a sigh. We moved forward. Kili rushed ahead and dropped to his knees to examine the ground. I peered over curiously. These prints were much smaller than the rabbit's. The front paw was only about two centimeters long and just as wide—perhaps even smaller. Rounder than a rabbit's paw. Four toes, claws faintly etched into the soil like thin scratches. The hind paw was five centimeters long, three wide, with five distinct toe marks. A rabbit kit? No—the toes and claws didn't match, and the gait was different. The hind paws pressed deeper, while the forepaws were set further ahead—like something that hopped. Then Kili spoke.
"A squirrel. An adult squirrel!"
He went on to explain exactly what I had been thinking, and Gilan seemed pleased.
"Good work, Kili. Squirrels aren't usually creatures dwarves pay attention to. I didn't think you'd know."
Kili scratched his head sheepishly.
"Well, actually… once, when my brother and I ran low on provisions, we caught a squirrel and made a stew out of it. Not such a strange animal to me."
Doğan and Bamsı raised their eyebrows. Bamsı asked curiously,
"What did it taste like?"
Fili chuckled, clapping Kili on the back before answering with a grin to Gilan.
"It tasted a bit like duck, though there wasn't much meat. Still, it added some flavor to our meal… I'll never forget that little thing."
Under Gilan's lead, we moved onward. Normally we would follow tracks to hunt, but our task was different this time. As we went, Bamsı kept chatting.
"I myself prefer roast lamb—golden-browned, juicy, with meat so tender it melts in your mouth!"
As he spoke, he smacked his lips. Fili smirked and nodded before adding,
"Yes, lamb is fine, but I enjoy sausages and wild boar. They're not bad at all."
Bamsı's brows drew together in disgust, and I was surprised—I had never seen him like that. He looked at Fili and said,
"I do not like pork, my friend. It is a harmful meat—does nothing but fatten warriors."
Doğan nodded in agreement and explained,
"Pigs are creatures that eat almost anything, including their own filth. Our healers warn that pork carries many diseases, and being so fatty, it is far from good for one's health. In fact, most of the Kuzait people won't even touch the animal. Still, there are some who do eat it."
Fili looked surprised, glancing at Doğan.
"Is it really that harmful?"
Doğan shrugged.
"Who knows? But we trust our healers' judgment. Besides, Igris himself despises the animal and refuses to eat its meat."
At that, Gilan joined the conversation.
"Doğan is right, Fili. The forest wardens avoid pork as well—it quickens weight gain and makes the body sluggish. We usually eat chicken, pheasant, partridge, deer, beef, or goat. As for the nobles of my kingdom, well, they eat whatever they like. But for us, it's entirely a matter of profession."
Fili grew thoughtful, while Kili gave a shrug and muttered to his brother,
"Told you so, brother. I never liked that meat."
Fili sighed and looked at him.
"I'm beginning not to like it myself. I think I finally understand why our uncle stayed away from it."
I was surprised too. In the Shire, pigs exist, and though their meat is sometimes cooked at inns, they are mostly used as beasts of burden. Personally, I never liked the heaviness of the meat, and now I had another reason to avoid it. As I pondered this, Gilan suddenly turned to me.
"Bilbo, your turn!"
I blinked. So soon? Already another track? I stepped forward and knelt to examine them. Judging by the stride, I identified both fore and hind paws. The front print was four to five centimeters long, three to four wide; the hind print slightly smaller but nearly the same size. Long and narrow, with distinct claw marks. Four toes, a small oval heel pad… but what was it? Gilan had shown me something like this before, but I couldn't recall! He chuckled behind me.
"Thirty-five seconds left, Bilbo—hurry!"
Could it be a dog? No, impossible. A dog's prints are larger. A puppy, maybe? Think, Bilbo, think! What are you missing? Wait—the gait! The animal had walked in an almost perfectly straight line, as if along a tightrope…
Gilan's voice cut in.
"Five… four… three… two…"
I blurted out,
"A fox! It walked in a straight line, like it was balancing on a rope. That's the only animal I know that does this—fox!"
Gilan paused, thoughtful. My nerves tightened. Then, with a grin, he said,
"Correct!"
I let out a breath of relief, smiling too. My training hadn't been for nothing! I would thank Halt later—he was the one who had explained fox tracks to me. Kili clapped me on the shoulder.
"Well done, Bilbo!"
I rubbed my aching shoulder with a wince. Dwarves hit far too hard. Dwalin once did the same and I thought my arm would snap.
"Thanks, Kili."
We marched on, Fili and Bamsı still talking about food. Not much further, Gilan spotted another track.
"Kili, your turn. One minute."
Kili bent to inspect, and I looked as well. These prints were tiny—barely a centimeter, perhaps less. Yet the hind feet seemed a little larger. Both front paws side by side, three or four toes—I couldn't tell clearly. A mouse, perhaps? Kili said aloud,
"Looks like a mouse."
Gilan raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure?"
Kili hesitated, then sighed.
"I can't think of anything else."
Gilan turned to me.
"What about you, Bilbo?"
After a pause, I answered,
"I also think it's a mouse."
Gilan shook his head.
"You're both wrong. I showed you these before—on the sixth day of your training. This is a weasel. Look closer—you'll see five toes. Mice only have four, and their prints are much smaller. Notice too the faint, thin claw marks."
He explained further. Kili groaned. I placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, Kili. I didn't recognize it either. You'll get another chance."
He sighed, whispering so low I barely heard,
"Just please don't let the next punishment be laundry duty again! The stench of Bombur's underwear and socks still haunts me!"
A shiver ran from my toes to my scalp. I remembered the foul stench of dwarven laundry—especially Bombur's and Dwalin's. Once, after catching a whiff of Bombur's socks, I fainted outright. Not just me—Kili collapsed too. We had been a laughingstock in the group for a while, until Kili furiously used Bombur's socks to knock out Bofur, Ori, Bifur, and even his own brother Fili for mocking us. After that, no one dared laugh. Igris sternly warned Bombur never to remove or change his socks until we reached the mountain—I never knew why, but one thing I was sure of: I never wanted to endure that torment again. Sorry, Kili, but I must win this! For the first time, I felt the spark of rivalry ignite inside me.
We pressed on. Soon, Gilan spotted more prints.
"Bilbo!"
I rushed forward and knelt. Again, two sets of prints, one larger, one smaller. From the depth of the impressions, I could tell fore from hind. This time they were bigger than before. Forepaw: seven centimeters long, six wide. Hind paw: smaller, around five centimeters. Five toes. Forepaws spread in a half-circle, hind more oval. Heel pad broad and rough. Claw marks nearly four centimeters, dragging through the earth. The tracks ran in a straight line, normal walking, not hopping. Stride length around thirty centimeters. I'd seen these before—Gilan had shown me—but what was it? A bear cub? No, the shape was wrong…
"Time is almost up, Bilbo," Gilan reminded.
You're no help at all! What was it? I know this… but it won't come! Gilan spoke again.
"Time's up. Kili, can you tell?"
With a triumphant grin, Kili answered,
"A badger."
Gilan smirked.
"Exactly right!"
Of course! A badger. The name had been stuck at the tip of my tongue. Gilan gave a short explanation of badger tracks. Bamsı smiled.
"I like honey badgers. They're just like me."
I blinked.
"What do you mean?"
Doğan explained,
"Honey badgers are wild, reckless beasts. When angered, they'll attack anything—bear, lion, tiger, wolf, it makes no difference. Their hides are tough, hard to pierce or cut. And they love honey. Yes—Bamsı's twin in the wild."
Bamsı laughed heartily, while I stared blankly at him. Quietly, I made a mental note: Stay far away from honey badgers.
We moved on. Five minutes later, Gilan stopped.
"There's a small hill ahead. The tracks lead that way—the cave is likely there. What do you think, Fili?"
Fili studied the hill carefully. Dwarves were skilled at judging caves and shelters from terrain, sometimes right, sometimes wrong. Based on what I'd observed on our travels, I would give their accuracy about six out of ten. Fili finally said,
"Maybe. I'm not certain… but looking at the rocks around and atop it, I'd say the hill is stone-based. If it were earth, we wouldn't see so many rocks scattered about."
Gilan smiled up at the sky.
"Good! Let's hope that's where they are. We have two hours of daylight left—we must hurry."
Then he pointed at another spot, grinning.
"Lucky us! Our little exam is nearly over. Kili, Bilbo—whoever names this track first wins the contest."
I froze, startled. Kili darted ahead, and I quickly followed to the spot Gilan indicated. We both bent to study the prints. Again, the hind paws were larger than the front. Forepaw: seven by six centimeters. Hind paw: ten by seven. The hind foot resembled a small hobbit's, while the forepaw looked almost like a hand, slender fingers—five of them. The hind was more oval, with a thumb-like protrusion. Fore and hind prints fell side by side, angled slightly as the creature moved. Stride about twenty-five to thirty centimeters. I thought I knew—
"RACCOON!" we both shouted at once.
I turned in shock to see Kili staring at me in the same way.
"I SAID IT FIRST!" we both cried again.
The group burst out laughing. We both turned to Gilan, who looked genuinely surprised.
"…honestly, you said it at the exact same time. I couldn't tell who was first."
Kili asked eagerly,
"Then who wins?"
I fixed my gaze on Gilan. I had to win. Another laundry duty and I might truly burn Bombur's clothes this time. Gilan shrugged.
"Let's call it a draw."
Kili and I sighed in relief, exchanging shrugs and grins. Suddenly, I felt a heavy slap on my back, stumbling forward before regaining my balance. Behind me stood a grinning Bamsı. Kili was rubbing his own shoulder—he'd been struck too. Bamsı spoke.
"You fought as brothers should—don't let rivalry turn into bitterness."
I wasn't sure what he meant, but I nodded. Kili added,
"Don't worry, Bamsı. It was a friendly match. Nothing to be jealous of. Bilbo and I live very different lives—I'm good in battle, he's good at learning. I know myself well and I'm fully aware of my shortcomings."
Bamsı grinned.
"Good. Men like you are rare."
Then Gilan spoke again, serious this time.
"Move out. Now we focus on the troll problem."
And so, following the tracks, we advanced toward the hill Fili and Gilan had spoken of.