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At dawn, with packs slung and the first light spilling over the horizon, the party left the small town of Bree behind.
Roland unfolded his map, eyes narrowing at a patch of woodland lying on the western slope of the Misty Mountains, right along the East-West Road.
"Trollwood, huh?" His brow furrowed. In both the game and the movie, this was troll territory—roaming bands of them, no less. And it was also one of the most pivotal chapters in the Hobbit's storyline: the place where the Three Elven Blades shone again—Glamdring, the Foe-hammer; Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver; and, of course, Bilbo's very own Sting.
"This forest hides a great evil…" Gandalf's low voice came from right beside him—Roland hadn't even noticed him sidle up.
"Trolls, is it? Good. My knights will be happy to chop their heads off." Roland's eyes flashed cold.
"Let us hope so…" Gandalf gave him a long, searching look.
Shhhng! Roland casually drew his Dragon-Slayer from his hip.
"Everyone, stay sharp!" He rode along the column, raising his sword so the whole company could hear.
The knights silently tightened their belts, secured their swords, and shifted their lances to an easy reach. Those in the vanguard leveled their lances, scanning the dense woods ahead. The Bretonnian bowmen unstrung their mithril bows, nocking arrows to the string.
"Keep the formation tight. If we hit trouble, don't panic—block incoming blows with your shields, keep moving, don't turn yourself into a stationary target!" Reynold's voice rang out as he patrolled the flanks.
"My lord, I think some of the squires are about to level up," Kaslan murmured as he rode up beside Roland.
"Oh?" Roland raised an eyebrow. A quick glance at the Lord of the Rings system confirmed it—his first ten trainee knights were on the cusp of becoming full-fledged knights.
A grin crept across his face. "Trainee knight" was still technically "knight," sure—but "knight" just sounded better, hit harder, and came with a few very tasty skills squires couldn't touch.
Compared to squires, a knight gained several practical abilities:
Shield Wall – channel battle-aura into your shield, forming a 2m x 1m wall of light in front of you. Requires a shield.
Riposte – after successfully blocking an attack, immediately counter with an armor-piercing slash. Requires a sword.
Blade from Heaven – summon a sword of pure battle-aura to drop from above, burning enemies in a 10m radius.
"Kaslo, I've got a job for you," Roland said, eyes glinting.
"My lord, I await your orders."
"You can teach them those skills, right?" Roland asked quietly.
"Of course. Many of a dragon-knight's techniques overlap with a regular knight's," Kaslo replied.
"Then you're their instructor from now on," Roland said, giving his shoulder a friendly pat.
"…Huh?" Kaslo gave him the what the hell look.
"Look, we don't have a class trainer. You're it. Reynold's too busy leading the formation."
"My lord, this sounds like being press-ganged…" Kaslo groaned.
"Ahem. It's called 'best man for the job.'" Roland said without batting an eye.
…
"Thorin," Roland said later, "when we dismount, tell your kin to keep their eyes open. We might've been spotted. Orcs could be on our tail."
"What?" Thorin blinked.
"This forest is bad news. The trolls here won't just let us stroll through."
And there were more than just the three movie trolls in Trollwood—dozens more lurked here.
"Don't worry, I'll keep them alert," Thorin promised.
"Hope so."
…
That night, by the campfire, Balin was, as always, spinning the tale of Thorin and Azog the Pale Orc for Bilbo.
"And then?" Bilbo asked. "What happened to that orc?"
"Dead. Wounded too badly to crawl out of his dark hole," Thorin said coldly, striding into the light.
"Get some rest," Roland added. "We've got a long day tomorrow."
Bilbo quickly rolled out his blanket beside the fire. Roland retreated into his own command tent—large enough for ten armored knights. Thirteen tents total: one for him, one each for Kaslo and Reynold, ten for the others, with ten more men on watch.
…
"Damn it! Someone's gone!"
The shout ripped Roland from half-sleep.
"Oh, crap—I completely forgot this is the part of the story where trolls raid at night!" He bolted upright, grabbing the Dragon-Slayer and stepping into the night.
"What's going on?" he grabbed Ori.
"Bilbo and Kíli are missing!" Ori stammered.
"Reynold! Wake everyone! Battle stations!" Roland bellowed.
"Thorin! Your people sure know how to cause trouble!" he snapped.
Then it hit him. "Wait. Where did you tie the horses?"
"In the woods," Dwalin said. "Kíli and Fíli did it."
"Check if they're still there!" Roland ordered.
Balin came running back a minute later. "They're gone!"
"Perfect… we're looking at at least a dozen trolls." Roland groaned.
"Knights—form up!"
"Help! Help!" Fíli came crashing out of the underbrush, dirt-streaked and wide-eyed.
"Trolls! They've got Bilbo and the ponies!"
"Lead us!" Reynold barked.
"O-oh, right! This way!"
…
"I'm gonna tear you into little pieces and dip you in gravy!" a massive troll—easily four meters tall—roared.
Below him, Bilbo and Kíli scrambled to dodge his grasping hands.
"Haven't caught those little rats yet?"
"What do we do with the ponies?"
"Eat 'em raw."
"Boil 'em. I've still got squirrel dung for seasoning."
"…Wait. You hear that? Sounds like heavy cavalry." One troll by the fire lifted his head, peering at the shaking treeline.
"For the glory of the knights—charge!"
"For justice—kill them all!"
"For the rebirth of Lagran!" Reynold's voice roared over the thunder.
Steel erupted from the woods—lances glinting like a forest of silver, armored riders smashing through the undergrowth. A troll chasing Bilbo and Kíli was flattened outright by the lead rider. Another knight drove his lance home, felt the shudder of impact, released it, and swung his war-pick into the troll's ribs as they passed.
The troll's scream was cut short as the tide of steel rolled over him, leaving nothing but mangled flesh glistening in the firelight.
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