Chapter 236 The Expedition Sets Off
The Incendio in the fireplace burned brightly, and all thirteen Dwarves, including Thorin, softly sang a poem:
Over the cold mountains and mist, to deep cellars and ancient caves...
We must depart before dawn, to seek the location of beautiful gold...
Pine trees cried on the the highlands, strong winds howled at night, flames spread red and mercilessly, trees roared like torches...
Aaron lay on the sofa, silently staring at the opposite wall in a daze.
He was not a Dwarf and hadn't experienced the destruction of his home and country, but he had a music teacher, allowing him to clearly feel the tragic grandeur in the poem.
They had prepared everything for this adventure, including death.
"Alas!" Aaron sighed softly in his mind, "I'll help as much as I can, provided my own safety is guaranteed!
No matter the time, those who are willing to fight to the death for their homeland are always respectable."
...The next day, before the sun had fully risen, Aaron was woken by his biological clock.
"You're awake." Gandalf looked at him playfully, "I was just about to call you; Thorin and the others are ready."
Aaron rubbed his eyes, sat up from the sofa, and then slowly stretched.
"What about Bilbo?"
"He's sleeping soundly; we didn't disturb him."
"Did he sign that contract?"
"No." Gandalf said with some regret, "But I left the contract; he might sign it when he sees it."
Aaron scoffed, then gave Gandalf a thumbs up.
"Gandalf, you're good, you're really good!
I also have an elder like you, always calculating something from others."
"You've misunderstood the Wizard; I'm not that kind of person." Gandalf said righteously, "The choice is always in Bilbo's hands."
Aaron rolled his eyes. Last night, you dug up all the glorious deeds of his ancestors, pumped him full of morale, described the world beyond the Shire to him, and poured a whole pot of thought form chicken soup.
When he wakes up today to an empty house and a contract to join the adventure party, his chances of signing will probably increase significantly.
"I'll wait for you outside; Thorin has prepared a pony for you."
"Got it."
Aaron picked up his cloak from the shelf and went to the kitchen to fill a bag with water.
Stepping out of Bag End, Gandalf and the thirteen Dwarves were waiting for him at the door.
"Ahem! Don't look at me like that; the protagonist usually makes his entrance last."
"Child, no, Aaron." Balin stroked his beard, "Do you know how to ride a horse?"
"Just a little bit." Aaron humbly pinched his index finger and thumb together, showing a tiny gap.
But when he saw the remaining two mounts, he couldn't help but twitch his lips.
They really were ponies! These mounts weren't even as tall as he was!
"One reddish-brown, one white; you pick one."
"The white one, then!" Aaron said helplessly.
At this point, he didn't dare to complain, because there were no other mounts.
It was either ride this kind of pony or follow the party on foot.
Facing these two choices, even a second of hesitation would be disrespectful to his legs.
Flipping onto the horse, the expedition party headed towards the border of the Shire.
After a short while, Aaron suddenly slapped his forehead, "Almost forgot.
System, sign in."
"Congratulations to the host for signing in the Shire, gaining three magic points."
Aaron wasn't too disappointed by this number. After pondering for a moment, he opened his personal panel.
[Host: Aaron Gaius]
[magic Power: 8090 (Middle-Level Mage, the end point for most Wizards in their lifetime)]
[Talent: Rare in a Century (magic Power increases by 3 points daily)]
[Items: moon drop (can remove any negative magic), Resurrection Potion (can resurrect any creature that died within an hour), magic carpet, unactivated Dragon Slaying Magic Crystal]
[magic Points: 147]
Indeed, without the thought form, he always felt like something was missing.
Moreover, the number in the last column was too pathetic. In the System Mall, the remaining magic items were Transfiguration (1000 magic points) and Patronus Charm(200 magic points), and he couldn't afford any of them.
"It's a long and arduous journey!" Aaron sighed, checking the mission panel.
[Complete the contract with the Dwarves; Reward 1000 magic points]
[Slay Smaug; Reward 2000 magic points]
Aaron blinked, and couldn't help but grin.
This was exactly what he wanted to do, and what he was doing.
And completing missions so openly was much more satisfying than at Hogwarts.
"What are you thinking about? You look so happy." Gandalfasked curiously.
"I'm thinking... how to write my story after defeating the Dragon."
"Hahaha!
That certainly needs some good thought; it's enough to be passed down for hundreds of years." Gandalf said, "If successful."
Aaron shrugged, then turned to look, "Hasn't Bilbo caught up yet?"
"He probably won't come." Dwalin said, "After all, our opponent is a Dragon, and the wilderness is not suitable for gentle, law-abiding folk who cannot defend themselves."
"I think he will come." Aaron smiled profoundly, "I've never misjudged a person."
"Children always like to act profound.
How old are you? Fifteen? Or sixteen?"
"To be precise... thirteen."
"What?" Dwalin's pupils widened, and he almost fell off his horse, "At thirteen, you dare to say you've never misjudged a person?"
"Age doesn't matter; our party has people of all ages.
I should only be younger than the second-to-last person, no, just younger."
"How about we make a bet!" Nori said loudly, "Let's bet on whether Mr. Baggins will catch up.
I bet he won't."
Aaron immediately said, "I bet he will come."
"I don't mind you betting on him, but Gaius, do you have money?"
Aaron rummaged through his pockets and pulled out five gold coins, "This is all I have."
The gold coins were particularly dazzling under the sunlight. Nori looked at Aaron somewhat dejectedly, "I take back what I just said, you might be the richest among us."
Aaron:... "It's not that bad, is it!"
"I only have a dozen silver coins and a few copper coins on me." Gandalf said enviously, "And the money in your hand is enough to live lavishly in Middle-earth for a month."
"Hehe! A Wizard reduced to your state is quite lamentable."
"So, occasionally, I have to take on a side job." Gandalflaughed awkwardly, "I bet Bilbo will catch up."
Aaron rolled his eyes, no longer holding any hope for Gandalf's integrity... Just as the party was about to leave a patch of woods, a familiar voice came from behind.
"Wait! Wait!"
Bilbo panted as he caught up, a contract still in his hand.
"I signed it."
The notary, Balin, Took the contract and confidently checked the signature with his eyes, "Everything checked out; welcome, Master Baggins, to Thorin Oakenshield's party."
"Excellent, Bilbo, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me." Aaron said excitedly, "Your great-great-great-uncle would also be proud of your decision."
"Give him a pony." Thorin said indifferently.
Bilbo's smile instantly froze. He immediately waved his hand, "No need to trouble yourselves, thank you, I can keep up on foot.
I often go on walking trips; once I even walked to Frog Village."
As he spoke, two large hands, one on the left and one on the right, lifted him up. By the time he reacted, he was already on the reddish-brown horse's back.
"I can tell this is your first time riding a horse." Aaron said, looking at Bilbo cautiously gripping the reins on the horse, "But don't worry, ponies are quite gentle.
If you were riding Gandalf's horse, you'd have to be a bit more careful; his horse is the biggest."
"Pay up, Nori." Oin reminded from the back of the party.
As soon as he finished speaking, a money bag landed in his hand. Soon, a second, then a third were thrown out.
"Haha!"
"Thanks, brother."
"What's going on?" Bilbo asked, puzzled.
"They were betting on whether you would show up; most people bet you wouldn't."
"So what did you guys think?"
Bang!
Gandalf suddenly reached out and caught a flying money bag, "My dear friend, I never doubted you."
Aaron also caught his money bag and shrugged at him, "There's one thing you must believe me on; I definitely believe in you more than Gandalf does."
Bilbo sighed in relief, then unexpectedly sneezed.
"It's horsehair; I'm allergic." Bilbo said, fumbling on his person. A moment later, his expression changed slightly, "Oh no, wait, stop."
"What's wrong?" Aaron asked vigilantly, "Did you find something?"
"I forgot to bring my handkerchief."
Aaron:... "For a moment there, I suddenly thought it might be better if you stayed in Bag End."
"Use this one." Bofur threw his handkerchief to him.
Bilbo looked at the brown rag in his hand, no, handkerchief, with some disdain, but he could only make do.
"You'll have to get used to no handkerchiefs, and other things, Bilbo Baggins, before our journey ends.
You were born among the hills and rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you, and the world is before you."
...The expedition party set out in the morning, passed through forests, crossed hills, and traversed plains surrounded by small rivers, only stopping when night fell.
Everyone rested by a cliff, divided into two groups to take turns on watch.
Gloin's snores rose and fell, and with each breath, tiny insects flew in and out of his nostrils.
"I truly admire him, from the bottom of my heart." Aaron sat by the campfire, saying somewhat speechlessly, "To be able to sleep so soundly surrounded by a bunch of bugs."
Bilbo, feeling a bit mentally exhausted, got up. He somewhat regretted being assigned to the same group as Gloin.
His snoring was so deafening, he found it hard to sleep.
He quietly walked over to his pony, pulled a fruit from his pocket, "Here, Little Peach, this is our secret."
Just as the Hobbit was feeding his mount, a strange sound came from afar.
"What was that?"
"Orcs." Kili said.
"Orcs." x 2.
Aaron immediately stood up, vigilantly surveying his surroundings.
Bilbo also retreated into the party in a panic. He had never seen an Orc in his life, but both books and old Took's records spoke of the Orcs' ferocity.
"Throat-cutters, at least dozens of them." Fili Took a drag from his pipe, "They're everywhere in the wild, attacking when everyone is asleep in the middle of the night."
"Fast and precise, silent, leaving only bloodstains." Kiliadded, his expression solemn yet nonchalant.
"If what you're saying is true... then we're probably in big trouble." Aaron swallowed, pointing to the cliff across a deep chasm, "Dozens of throat-cutters are right there."
"What are you talking about." Fili was dismissive, "It's late at night, with hundreds of meters of fog in between; can you even see across?"
"It's a bit difficult to see clearly, but my eyesight is several times better than an ordinary person's." Aaron said seriously, "There are indeed some tall shadows on the other side."
Fili and Kili exchanged glances and tacitly agreed that Aaron was having hallucinations from fright.
"Alright, alright, we believe you."
"No, I'm serious, can't you guys be serious."
"We are very serious."
"Is it funny?" Thorin asked coldly, "Do you think an Orcnight raid is a joke?"
"We didn't mean it like that." Kili lowered his head guiltily.
"Indeed, you know nothing of the world."
"No offense, little brother." Balin walked over, "Thorin has good reason to hate Orcs.
After the Dragon occupied the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the Dwarf kingdom of Moria, but the enemy arrived first.
Moria had been conquered by a great army, led by the most terrifying Orc, Azog the Defiler.
The great Gundabad Orcs swore to cut off the bloodline of Durin; he decided to start by beheading the King.
Thrain, Thorin's father, went mad with grief; he disappeared, whether killed or captured, no one knew.
We were leaderless, disorganized, and shrouded in death."
Balin's face was filled with sorrow. Everyone, without prior agreement, looked at Thorin, who had his back to them. Even the deeply sleeping Gloin opened his eyes.
His grandfather was beheaded by Orcs, his father disappeared in the war, and his people were almost annihilated in the battles with Orcs.
If the Dragon was an inevitable natural disaster, then the Orcs were a tangible blood feud and national hatred, irreconcilable!
"It was then that I saw him." A faint smile appeared on Balin's face, "The young Dwarf prince fought to the death with the Pale Orc, facing the terrifying enemy alone."
"It must have been very difficult!" Aaron couldn't help but ask.
"He wore broken armor and picked up an oak branch to defend against attacks."
"So that's why he's called Oakenshield?"
"Yes." Balin nodded, "Azog the Defiler had an arm cut off. He learned that day that the bloodline of Durin would not be easily severed.
We regrouped, repelled the Orcs, and defeated the enemy.
But there was no victory feast that night, no singing, because the casualties were heavy and heartbreaking. Only a few of us survived.
At that time, I thought to myself, I am willing to follow this man; I am willing to call him King."
As his words fell, all the Dwarves stood up solemnly. At this moment, their respect for Thorin reached its peak.
"I have a question, did Azog actually die?"
"He crawled back to his cave and died of his wounds long ago." Thorin said slowly, walking over.
Aaron:... Buddy, you shouldn't set up that kind of Flag!
"So that means you didn't confirm his death; Azog might still be alive."
"Impossible." Thorin said sharply, "He was carried by Orcs in Moria; he didn't even have a chance to stop the bleeding."
"Uh..." Aaron hesitated for a moment, "I know you might not be happy to hear this, but things often develop in the bad direction you least expect. My personal advice is that you'd best assume he didn't die."
"Hmph!" Thorin sneered and walked up to Aaron, "If he didn't die, then I'll defeat him again and personally cut off his head."