LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

Dragon Sickness.

It was a curse, thick as smoke and just as suffocating, that clung to Erebor's treasure hoard. Merely drawing near it left one tainted. A simple splash of milk wasn't enough to cure it, only enough to momentarily wipe away the symptoms. As long as the cursed gold remained buried beneath the Lonely Mountain, the sickness would always find its way back.

But when Thorin drank and cleared his mind for a fleeting moment, he saw what he'd become. And that sliver of clarity was all he needed.

He built resistance. A willful defense against the corruption.

---

At Erebor's grand gates, the orcs had gathered like ants on a dropped sweetroll. But they were quickly scattered by the defending dwarves and elves. With the front line secured, those with spare blades dashed further out to purge the remaining orcs pushing in.

"Took you long enough, Eric." Gandalf called as he hurried over, his robes a little more frazzled than usual.

"The situation isn't hopeless," the wizard said, diving right into strategy. "Most of the orcs and their beastly friends are still outside the walls. There's only one tunnel that broke through. If we block that, we stop the flood."

Thanks to the clever layer of underground lava that Eric had secretly piped beneath the battlefield, most of the worm tunnels the orcs tried to dig had either collapsed or never reached the walls.

All but one.

The eastern slope had proven just lucky enough to avoid the lava veins. A single tunnel had slipped through, letting in the orc vanguard and a few monsters.

Just one.

Still, even one was too many for Eric. The hole felt forced, like it had been shoved into existence against the world's better judgment.

Gandalf glanced toward the hillside. "I suspect their tunneling plan didn't account for your sudden architectural... innovations."

Both construction efforts - Eric's fortress walls and the orcs' underground invasion, had started at roughly the same time. But when the tunneling orcs broke through and found walls that hadn't been there in the blueprints, they had no choice but to abandon most of the plan.

Eric raised a brow. "Of course it wasn't part of their plan."

If they had predicted it, he'd eat his enchanted trousers.

"I'm going to check that tunnel," he added, already stepping away.

"We can have dwarf cavalry escort you," Gandalf offered quickly. "Those mountain goats are nimble, perfect for rough terrain."

Eric paused to eye the dwarven mounts.

Stocky, horned, and stubborn, the goats could scale nearly anything, probably even the Eagle Eyries if they found a foothold.

"Useful little beasts," Eric muttered. "Might have to get a few of my own."

But now?

"Gandalf," he said with a faint grin, "what made you think I'd need an escort?"

He stretched his arms, snapped on his elytra wings, lit a rocket, and with a streak of sparks, soared off the ground like a firework, rocketing eastward toward the tunnel that still spewed orcs.

Just as he arrived, a troll lumbered out, swinging a hammer the size of a horse cart.

Eric didn't break speed. Mid-air, he swapped gear, armor snapping over him in an instant, and drew his sword.

With a crash like thunder, he slammed into the troll's skull. The blade punched through its head like a hot pick through pumpkin. The sheer force carried them both down the tunnel, flattening a whole cluster of orcs as they tumbled.

A glowing skill orb popped out and rolled to a stop.

[Basic Swordsmanship]

"Not bad," Eric murmured, grabbing it and leveling the skill up on the spot.

"Intruder! Kill the human!"

The orcs of Moria, more brutal than their Misty Mountain cousins, surged forward like a tidal wave of teeth and metal.

They made one fatal error.

BOOM!

Eric spun, sword glowing with sweeping enchantments. A whole row of orcs was blasted back, their bodies catching fire as they screamed and writhed.

But no matter how many fell, more replaced them. The flood felt endless.

At some point, Eric thought grimly, even if it was just twenty thousand pigs running around like mad, you'd be swinging your sword for three days straight and still not finish.

Clack clack.

He planted TNT on the walls, the blocks sitting there as casually as fruit on a windowsill. With a flick of flint, they began to spark and hiss.

Eric dashed back out.

The orcs roared in triumph, thinking the human had finally turned tail.

Then the explosion hit.

A massive blast cracked the tunnel open, forming a smoking crater in the middle. The forward momentum of the orc army halted instantly.

Eric didn't stop. He sprinted up a makeshift pillar of blocks, climbed to the tunnel's ceiling, and poured bucket after bucket of lava across the top.

A molten curtain crashed down, sealing the passage like the fiery gates of a volcano.

"The path's sealed!" someone shouted from the rear lines.

"It's more than sealed," Gandalf said, eyes twinkling. "It's finished."

"Counterattack!" came the rallying cry.

With the tunnel blocked and the orcs inside trapped or destroyed, the defenders had only one job left, clean house.

Weapons raised, the allied forces split to the flanks and pushed in.

Eric placed a few more blocks at the mouth of the tunnel, double-checking the seal, then zipped off to rejoin the fight.

"Wait for me!" he shouted, flying after the others. "I still need more skill drops!"

Back on the battlefield, the legend of the wilderness mage went on a rampage. The vanguard of orcs found themselves boxed in, clawing for escape as the tide turned.

Ordinarily, they'd have broken ranks by now. But these orcs kept coming.

Because just like the dwarves, they had blood feuds and powerful leaders of their own.

Buzz.

Flags snapped in the wind. Azog snarled, smashing a stone underfoot in frustration. He could see Eric, even from here. That infuriating black-cloaked figure was unmistakable.

Every setback they'd had, it was all that human's fault.

"Battering beasts forward!" he ordered.

Trolls the size of siege towers were prepped. Orcs loaded boulders onto slings, ropes creaked, and with a deafening cry—

THUD!

Huge stones soared through the air, slamming into Eric's wall.

But the wall... didn't fall. Not even a crack.

Chunks of blocks scattered like loose tiles, but the structure held firm.

Azog stared. This wasn't a normal wall.

"Is this really Dale?" he muttered. "Even the White City wasn't this sturdy…"

"What is this?" his second-in-command, Bolg, growled.

A trembling scout was hauled forward. "Th-there weren't any walls here last week!"

"If you lie, your bones will be spread across every wolf belly in this army," Bolg snarled.

"I-it's the truth!"

Azog narrowed his eyes. "It's the work of that block-wielding human wizard. Eric."

Bolg dropped the scout and stepped forward. "He sounds interesting."

Azog ignored the comment.

"Bring me a unit. With archers. Lots of archers."

He'd seen Eric fly. And that meant they needed a solution.

The call went out. War horns echoed. Archers began to gather.

"Siege trolls, advance!"

A massive troll bellowed and charged the wall, its head strapped with a pointed slab of stone. Arrows rained from the walls, but they bounced off its thick hide.

BANG!

It hit the wall. Some surface blocks fell. That was it.

It should have collapsed something. It didn't.

Another troll stepped up with a battering ram, slamming again.

Behind them, orcs tensed like dogs on chains.

What they didn't know… was that the golems guarding the inner walls were no longer wandering aimlessly. They were waiting.

---

Inside Dale's dusty armory, Bard organized the town's civilians.

"Take everything! If you can fight, grab a weapon! Armor, too!"

Dale might have fallen long ago, but its weapons remained untouched by orcs or dragons, simply left to gather dust. Now, they gleamed once more.

"Send the women, children, and elderly to the shelters! Fighters to the wall!"

Then Bard spotted someone.

A suspiciously curvy "woman" in armor that jingled oddly.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The disguised Alfrid squealed, still avoiding eye contact.

"Alfrid."

Bard ripped off the chestful of coins, shoved a sword into his hands, and growled, "Front lines. Now."

"I-I'll go, I'll go!"

Alfrid shuffled off, whimpering like a scolded dog.

Suddenly, the back gate of Dale swung open. Two armies marched in, swift and disciplined, taking position along the high walls.

Elves and dwarves, shoulder to shoulder.

"We've cleared the orcs inside. What's your status?" Thranduil asked.

"They haven't broken through," Bard replied, eyeing the towering wall and the golems nearby.

Honestly, even if they did break through, they'd be torn apart.

"Oi!"

Dain came charging up on his boar. "Have your elves take the other side. Leave the wide steps to us, or we can't get the ballistae up!"

Thranduil sighed but waved his troops over to the opposite stairs.

Soon after, Thorin arrived with his company. He paused to look Thranduil in the eye.

Before the elf king could speak, Thorin said plainly, "After this, I'd like to invite you to Erebor for talks."

"I accept," Thranduil replied, chin lifted haughtily.

For once, Thorin didn't bristle at the elf's attitude. He simply nodded and joined his dwarves at the wall.

At that moment, Eric and Gandalf arrived.

"Oh come on, wait for me!" Eric grumbled as he watched both armies adjusting their positions.

He clapped his hands and summoned stone steps, widening both staircases in seconds.

"Amazing! This is way more useful than your fancy magic, Gandalf!" Dain bellowed.

Gandalf's eye twitched. Dain could be so diplomatic.

"Let the big ones taste our wrath!"

Balin was already manning a ballista. He fired.

Thunk!

A heavy bolt smashed into a troll, flipping it over and sending it rolling away like a ragdoll.

"Fire!"

Whoosh!

More bolts slammed into the orc lines. Cheers erupted.

"Hold formation!" the orc commander barked.

Then a bolt flew at him, and he casually sidestepped it.

"What are you looking at? Mind your own business!" he snapped.

Meanwhile, the elves loosed volleys of arrows, precise and elegant. Smaller trolls fell, bristling with a dozen arrows each.

"If power doesn't work, spam the numbers," Eric chuckled.

Azog wasn't laughing.

"Hold the vanguard. Wait for the heavy beasts. Archers, cover them!"

The massive siege trolls pressed forward again, this time reinforced with armored ogres shielding them from the dwarven bolts.

Still, they didn't know what waited beneath their feet.

--

"Eric!" Thorin rushed over. "Can you dig a hole in the wall? Just wide enough for me to jump through. I'll take out that beast!"

"No way!" Kili jumped in. "It's too dangerous!"

"I'm coming too!" Fili shouted.

"The royal line must be protected," Thorin said. "You're still young."

He looked youthful himself, but was actually older than even Balin.

"No need," Eric interrupted.

He pulled a lever.

The moment the siege beast stepped onto the disguised platform, the wooden gate beneath it vanished with a hiss.

The troll dropped like a rock, screaming as it plunged into the lava pit hidden beneath the wall.

Its cry echoed through the valley… then silence.

Azog's face darkened.

"Bring building supplies. Patch the road. Avoid the floor traps. Attack from all directions."

And as those orders were relayed…

Eric turned back to Bard.