LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

Sometimes, things seem useless only because no one's figured out how to use them properly.

Take fireworks, for example.

In my world, fireworks actually cause damage. The problem is, they're usually shot into the sky, far away from anything they might actually hit. But there's a fix for that, a way to control their trajectory.

Enter: the crossbow.

Load a firework into a crossbow, and it'll fly straight in the direction you aim, only exploding when it hits something or reaches its maximum range. The damage from that explosion depends on how many firework stars, or in simpler terms, how much gunpowder you pack into it. Maxed out, a firework can hit for over ten points of damage, rivaling a fully enchanted bow. The difference is, fireworks explode in a radius. That makes them more effective in the right conditions.

Against unarmored, soft targets? Could be pretty deadly. But against a dragon with armor thicker than netherite?

"Are you celebrating my inevitable victory?" Smaug rumbled dryly.

"You sure talk a lot for someone being tested on."

Eric holstered the Flameburst Bomb and his firework-loaded crossbow, then drew his sword and gave Smaug's claw a polite slice. The dragon's roar echoed through the stone corridors as Eric slipped back out of the narrow tunnel.

Test Log: Fireworks

Damage: Comparable to a maxed-out enchanted bow. Like flare rounds, they deal area-of-effect damage.

Materials: More expensive than flameburst bombs.

Effectiveness: Unable to pierce dragon scales, but judging by Smaug's reaction, he definitely felt it. Not entirely useless.

Best suited for: Lightly armored targets, like orcs or wargs.

Range: Depends on powder load. Thirty to seventy meters. Not amazing, but usable.

Field Deployment: Could be devastating in volleys. Imagine an entire squad firing fireworks at once...

---

Meanwhile, in the long hall behind the treasure chamber, Smaug was glaring intently at a two-block-high tunnel entrance, the one his human pest kept escaping through. This time, he had a plan. He'd stacked up some hefty chunks of rubble. Next time the human showed his face, the dragon was going to plug that hole before he could bolt.

Unfortunately for Smaug, Eric had the exact same idea - just flipped.

While the dragon was plotting to trap him, Eric was busy mining through the rear of the long hall, sealing off every exit Smaug might use to flee. It took less than a day.

By the time Eric returned to the meeting hall, armed to the teeth and ready to take down the now cornered boss monster, Smaug was unknowingly trapped. The way back to his beloved gold hoard was gone.

And just as Eric cracked his neck and prepared to walk into the fight of his life, a bunch of dwarves came crashing through the entrance, huffing, puffing, and very nearly collapsing.

"Wait, hold it! Don't go in there yet!"

"There's no need! Just, give us a minute!"

The music of the moment took an unexpected twist.

"Whew - we made it. Eric! Ha! Looks like we got here just in time," Balin gasped.

The dwarves dumped a pile of clanking components onto the ground before flopping down like sacks of potatoes. Several of them reached for their canteens immediately, guzzling water like they'd crossed a desert. Bombur went one better: he lay down next to Eric's infinite water source and started chugging straight from the pool, nearly falling in headfirst.

"Hey, take it easy." Eric grabbed the barrel-shaped dwarf by the collar and yanked him back before he could drown himself.

"I'm impressed. Honestly, I thought you'd take a few more days. I was already working out how to season dragon meat."

"Since we left, we haven't stopped for a second, not even to sleep," Balin wheezed.

To be fair, dwarves weren't built for marathons. If they had been sprinting since the moment they left, it was a miracle they weren't dead. Even Thorin, the strongest among them, looked too tired to grumble.

"Well, we couldn't let you do everything, now could we?" Balin said with a tired grin. "Besides, we brought the one thing that might actually kill that lizard."

"You're going to like this."

The dwarves parted, revealing a tall human man with a stern expression and a longbow slung over his back. In his hand was a massive black arrow, nearly the size of a spear.

Well, look at that. They'd kidnapped a person.

"You're the famous warrior? Eric?" the man asked.

Eric raised a brow. "You've heard of me?"

"We haven't met," the man replied, "but I've heard tales. Refugees from the river valleys passed through Lake-town months ago. They spoke of a black-armored knight who fought orcs and wargs alone, wielding a flaming sword. They say you and a wizard saved the settlements on both sides of the Anduin."

"I'm Bard of Lake-town. It's an honor."

Bard gave a formal bow. He was clearly surprised. The dwarves hadn't mentioned they were friends with a legend.

Would've helped if they had. Might've saved us both a trip.

Although Bard didn't particularly like dwarves, he could respect anyone who had risked his life to protect others.

"Likewise, Bard," Eric said. "I'm guessing you already know why we're here. The dragon is through that tunnel."

He pointed toward the far wall. Bard took a step toward it, curiosity piqued.

"I wouldn't get too close," Eric warned. "The dragon's got a foul mouth. If you want to keep your ears clean, keep your distance."

Smaug was still shouting obscenities. The beast had stamina, no doubt about it.

"So what's the plan?" Bard asked. "We set up the windlance and shoot it straight through the heart?"

"We've only got one shot," someone muttered. "It has to count."

Everyone turned to Bard.

"I'll take the shot," he said calmly.

There wasn't a hint of fear in his eyes. To him, this was just another hunt.

Eric studied him for a moment, then nodded. Bard wasn't just brave. He was the kind of man who would stand alone against a dragon to protect his people, even if all he had was a wooden bow.

"I've got a plan," Thorin spoke up suddenly.

He had caught his breath and was now pointing to a section of the map spread on the table.

"There's a narrow passage just beyond the long hall. If we lure the dragon in, he'll have to expose his chest to squeeze through. Once he's inside, there's no turning back."

"We set the windlance at the end of the corridor. Draw him in, trap him… then let our sharpshooter do his work."

He looked Bard in the eyes. "If this works, I will give you my word, as king - you may ask anything of me. So long as it does not betray dwarven honor, it is yours."

Bard held his gaze, then gave a small nod.

"Then I hope you're not like your grandfather."

Thorin flinched. His hands curled into fists, but he said nothing. His face darkened, but no one commented.

Soon, the thirteen dwarves, two humans, and one hobbit gathered in a circle to plan the ambush in detail.

Eric glanced at the map again, then suddenly clapped his hands.

"Oh, right. That tunnel you're talking about? I kind of... blocked it."

"You what?" Thorin blinked.

"Well, I didn't know it was part of your master plan. But don't worry. I'll just go knock it down again."

Blocked it. Thorin had a moment of confusion, until his eyes flicked to the massive stone wall Eric had built to seal the main hall.

Yeah. That could block it.

"Fine," Thorin muttered. He decided not to question it further. The less he tried to understand Eric's methods, the better.

"There's one more thing," Eric added. "We need bait."

"Someone fast, agile, able to dodge across uneven terrain and small enough to fit through dwarf-sized tunnels without getting stuck. And since there's going to be a dragon chasing them…"

Everyone turned.

Bilbo looked around nervously, then sighed and stepped forward.

"I… I suppose that would be--"

"It'll be me," Thorin interrupted, placing a firm hand on Bilbo's shoulder and gently shoving him back.