The stop in Bree was brief. Just one night was enough to replenish supplies, enjoy a hot dinner at the tavern, and rest for a few hours before continuing the march.
Even so, their presence did not go unnoticed. They were neither a common nor a discreet group, and precisely because of that, no one with ill intentions dared to approach. The mere image of a contingent of armed dwarves, a hobbit, some strange outsiders, and a gray wizard was enough to discourage any opportunistic attempt.
They ate without speaking of their mission and with little interest in the conversations around them. The dwarf sisters kept their faces covered with masks to hide their identities. Leda, for her part, never strayed from Miquella, sternly pushing aside every alcoholic drink placed in front of him.
After resting, they departed early… but something felt off.
As soon as they set foot outside the tavern, they saw a considerable group of people arming themselves and heading out, all in the same direction as them. They weren't simple travelers nor patrols: there were local soldiers, mercenaries, and peasants carrying tools turned into makeshift weapons.
Curiosity got the better of them, and soon they asked what all the movement was about.
The answer raised more than one eyebrow.
They were heading to the Midgewater Marshes. There, for days, an unexpected conflict had been brewing: a battle between two invasive and uncontrollable species that threatened to expand toward nearby settlements. Giant crabs and colossal crayfish had appeared out of nowhere, multiplying in alarming numbers. What began as a simple ecological imbalance had quickly escalated into a territorial war between both species.
But the gravest problem was that now both hordes were moving toward inhabited areas.
The campaign being prepared was nothing more than a desperate attempt to stop their advance. In essence, it was large-scale pest control. The idea was to reduce their numbers or, with luck, wipe them out before they could devastate villages and fields.
None of the company looked kindly on this campaign. Not out of lack of empathy, but because, judging by what they heard, the situation was far more dangerous than the volunteers believed. The Eldens, with good reason, knew perfectly well what kind of creatures dwelled in those swamps… and many of those preparing to face them were armed with little more than sticks and misguided courage.
Most of them would be cannon fodder.
Despite everything, the group decided to continue their route. They had a greater mission and could not stray. Thorin was clear about it: they would not get involved. Not out of heartlessness, but because their path was set, and any delay could cost them dearly. If they stopped to help everyone in need, they would never reach their destination.
The march was slow, but not entirely unproductive. Miquella shared what he knew about the creatures, since they also came from his homeland: the Between Lands. The news was not well received by some. It was true that the arrival of the Eldens had brought power and knowledge… but also problems that hadn't existed before.
By the time they neared the edge of the swamp, the situation was already alarming. They began crossing paths with wounded people returning the same way, dragging themselves, supporting one another. Their pale faces and battered bodies spoke for themselves. What they recounted was even worse.
Many groups decided to turn back once they understood the true scale of the danger. Only the regular soldiers remained, trapped between duty and fear. Though they had requested reinforcements from nearby kingdoms, they knew time was against them. And there was no guarantee reinforcements would even arrive.
As they entered the marshes, human figures could already be seen at a distance, surrounding enormous creatures. The fighting was chaotic. In every direction battles raged—war cries, scattered triumphs… and inevitable defeats. Those crustaceans had truly multiplied beyond anyone's foresight.
Only a few groups seemed to resist effectively: those who had learned quickly and knew how to fight the beasts while they were still fewer. The rest… well, the only thing one could wish them was luck.
The dwarves, the Eldens, and the wizard quickly understood they would not be able to avoid the battle. At this point, it wasn't a matter of whether they wanted to fight, but of how they would do it.
The decision was clear: advance without stopping, cutting their way through if necessary. They couldn't stay to fight the whole war, but every creature slain along their path would be a small contribution to the larger effort.
The dwarves and the Eldens formed ranks, gripped their weapons, and began to march, determined. It didn't take long before they were intercepted by a horde of small mutant shrimp. Well… small compared to the adults.
An arrow whistled through the air and struck precisely into the skull of one of the young crayfish, which shrieked and writhed on the ground. Without hesitation, Killian drew his bow again and loosed another arrow. Then another. And another.
Dwalin, Glóin, and Bofur pressed forward with hammers, axes, and swords, cutting through the creatures with accurate, crushing blows. They smashed, hacked, and shoved with the efficiency of seasoned warriors.
No one was mounted now, save for Miquella, who stood atop the cart, coordinating the group. The formation had split: one offensive squad led the front, while the other guided the ponies—nervous and unsettled by the surroundings—through the mire. Dangerous, uncomfortable, and risky… but necessary.
Bofur swung his hammer hard, felling a shrimp that lunged at his companions. But in the midst of the front's chaos, something loomed from the rear.
A group of terrified humans fled in the opposite direction, shouting warnings between gasps. And behind them, advancing relentlessly, a giant crab had chosen Miquella's company as its new target.
This time, it was the Eldens' turn. Swift and coordinated, they broke from the group to intercept the creature. It was big, yes, but not nearly enough to truly worry them. With sharp movements and flawless synchronicity, they cornered it and began stabbing it with sharpened weapons. The beast stood no chance.
The dwarves, however, were not satisfied. Though they said nothing, their faces showed it. The small shrimp were not worthy rivals. But that feeling quickly vanished when the real problem arrived.
A colossal crayfish—perhaps the mother, or the father—burst into the swamp, charging furiously at the dwarves who had slaughtered its offspring.
The dwarves roared an enthusiastic war cry… at least until they had to throw themselves to the ground to dodge a rain of viscous projectiles the creature hurled their way.
"Don't get cocky!" shouted Thorin, brandishing his sword and raising his oak shield. Without hesitation, he lunged at the crustacean, driving his blade into one of its abdominal segments.
Despite their size, for warriors like them, these creatures were not impossible to defeat. But the true danger was not the strength of individual enemies… it was their sheer number.
And that became clear when the other fighting groups retreated or moved to other zones.
The enemies' numbers grew endlessly, and fatigue began to weigh on all of them. The battle dragged on, arms aching from swinging weapons. At that point, only Bilbo, shielded by Balin, struggled to guide the ponies, who fought not to bolt. If not for Miquella extending his spiritual presence into the animals, soothing their emotions, they would have long since fled in terror.
Finally, in the distance, the end of the marshes came into view. The ground began to rise and dry, promising an escape. But that visual relief brought the worst of news: they were practically surrounded.
Crayfish and giant crabs, far too many to have gone unchecked, hemmed them in from all sides, moving with clear, murderous intent. The growls, the cracking shells, and the sinister splashing marked the beginning of a siege.
The Eldens and dwarves formed a defensive circle, shielding Bilbo, the supplies… and Miquella in the center. All of them raised their weapons, even Gandalf, who had long since drawn a sword and fought alongside the rest. But this time, he would have to do more.
The air was thick. No one moved. All tense, waiting for the first strike. Then, as if on cue, the crayfish reared up, aimed their bodies, and fired a brutal rain of pressurized jets.
It was the best strategy the crustaceans could use… and the worst situation for the company.
Gandalf was already raising his staff, ready to shield the group, even knowing his Maia power was limited. But it wasn't necessary.
A few seconds earlier, Miquella had lifted both hands. In one he held his scepter; in the other, a golden seal glowing intensely.
An aquamarine and golden light burst from his hands, expanding like an explosive wave that ignored his allies entirely and struck directly against the enemy projectiles, halting them… and sending them back.
The reversed water surged like a counter-storm, slamming with equal force into the crustaceans who had unleashed it.
The spell was a combination of the Repelling Enchantment and Thops' Barrier, one of Miquella's personal researches that, despite the high magical cost in this world, he released with mastery.
"Attack!" shouted Thorin, seizing the confusion. Though the dwarves were stunned by the magical feat, they knew they couldn't waste the chance.
"I'll protect the ponies. Finish them off!" said Miquella, stowing the seal and drawing a glimstone. From the scepter, bluish light particles gathered, and in a second, they shot forward as magical projectiles toward the nearest foe.
The crustaceans, still reeling from the impact of their own attacks, reorganized with renewed fury. And once again, they hurled themselves against the company.
The crayfish, with their ranged assaults, became the first targets to eliminate. The dwarves had already learned how to distract these creatures: while one faced them head-on, others slipped around the sides to climb onto them or strike directly at their legs, destabilizing them.
Bombur and his brothers clambered atop one particularly large specimen, clinging to its antennae to the beast's frustration. In its frenzy to shake them off, it thrashed wildly, smashing into its own kind uncontrollably. From above, Bofur and Bifur furiously struck its head with axe and hammer until it collapsed in exhaustion.
Freya, meanwhile, fought fiercely against the pincers of a giant crab that tried to break into the center of the formation. She kept it occupied with agility and blade, buying time for Leda to sneak up from behind and drive her sword between its eyes, killing it with a single precise blow.
Thiollier also made his mark. He moved through the chaos spreading poison over crustaceans distracted in battle with his companions. The effect was immediate: staggering, spasms, confusion… just enough time for others to finish them off with ease.
The battlefield had become utter chaos, and the swampy ground made it even harder for the company to come out unscathed. But luckily, they had their own guardian angel.
At the center of the formation, Miquella had stopped launching ranged attacks. Now he focused on healing his allies, casting protective spells on those in greatest danger. While his barriers didn't nullify damage entirely, they reduced it enough to make the difference.
Thanks to that surge of protective and healing energy, the dwarves felt their strength renewed. They fought with greater freedom, intensity… and newfound effectiveness.
Even Gandalf was astonished by how deftly Miquella wielded magic. But he had no time to dwell on it. The old wizard, despite his appearance, possessed extraordinary physical skill, and only thanks to it did he avoid being thrown aside by the pincers of several surrounding crabs.
He rolled through the mud once more, dodging with practiced ease. Then he raised his staff toward one of the creatures, which briefly lit up with a flash. The light was fleeting… but it preceded a powerful shockwave that sent the crab flying, crashing onto its back like a massive stone.
The dwarves froze at the sight. It was the first time they had seen Gandalf use true magic. And recalling Miquella's feat as well, they couldn't help but growl with envy. Why weren't there dwarf wizards? In the end, though, they reassured themselves that in a real battle, one couldn't rely on spells… only on the firm blows of a good dwarven axe. Or at least, that's what they told themselves.
Gandalf, for his part, was equally surprised. He hadn't expected so much power in that strike. But once again, he had no time to reflect. Another claw lunged at him, forcing him to move again. In one motion, he spun and drove his staff into the eye of another crab coming at him from the flank.
Moving like a dancer, with far greater dexterity than usual, Gandalf dodged attack after attack, countering with repelling blasts he hurled at the crustaceans pressing him. He covered his ground with startling efficiency, giving them no respite.
The number of enemies began dropping rapidly. Many of the crustaceans, wounded or stunned, already tried to retreat, dragging themselves through the mud to escape. It was then that the company launched one final charge against the stragglers, determined to end the threat once and for all.
Miquella raised his staff and unleashed a rain of radiant projectiles, pelting the crustaceans from above. At the same moment, Gandalf surged forward, swinging his staff with force. He struck several crabs and crayfish, flipping them with each blow, while the Eldens and dwarves finished them off with their weapons.
One after another, the enemies fell. Finally, one last crab was blasted back by Gandalf's shockwave. But before it could topple, the wizard spun his staff and struck its abdomen with the base… causing the creature to explode in a rain of fragments.
Silence.
Then, an outburst of cheers from the dwarves. They shouted and leapt, though many soon collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. Bilbo poked his head out from among the ponies, where he had been squeezed and hiding, releasing a deep sigh of relief.
The Eldens did not celebrate. The first thing they did was rush to Miquella to check his condition. The youth sat on the cart, pale but conscious. Glimstones could be used as catalysts for spells, yes… but casting so many so quickly came at a high price. His body still felt it.
Gandalf, however, could not take his eyes off his staff nor the place where the crab had exploded. His mind was full of questions.
"Have the limitations… loosened?" he murmured unconsciously, with a mixture of awe and concern.
"We must move on," said Thorin, who had also taken a moment to catch his breath. "Let's leave before something worse shows up," he ordered. Then he glanced at Bilbo. "Burglar, how are the mounts?"
"Uh…" Bilbo hesitated, looking at the ponies and horses. He wasn't exactly an expert, and during the battle he had been able to do little for the animals besides trying to keep them together.
The dwarves approached the ponies. Several were wounded, some dying. Seeing them, they shut their eyes in frustration. Some would have to be put down. This was not only an emotional loss but also a logistical blow. The journey would be much harder without them.
"Leave it to me."
Miquella's soft, childlike voice rang out as he made his way through. He carried a golden seal in hand and knelt beside a fallen pony. Then he began to cast a healing spell. A warm golden light enveloped the animal.
The pony's cries of pain began to fade, growing weaker. For a moment, the dwarves thought it wouldn't work… that its time had come. But suddenly, the pony slowly rose. Still unsteady, nearly collapsing again, but Miquella held his focus, continuing to emit that light, healing it bit by bit.
At the sight of its recovery, the dwarves cheered once more. This time not for the battle, but for their burdened companions. Some began tending the rest of the animals, giving Miquella space to continue his work.
"Harvest the rewards in the meantime. Find the best crab and strip it," ordered Thorin, after confirming with the Eldens that they were edible. "We need a good meal to celebrate."
"Leave the rest to me," said Miquella without looking back, still at his task. He had been absorbing energy from the corpses they left behind, and he sensed that this new contribution would be of great use.