Dark Forest and Elves

Seeing that the giant bear had returned to human form, Wayne whistled at Robin.

Tamed from a young age using the Taming Technique, the Deathclaw was obedient. Upon receiving the command from its master, Robin immediately retracted his claws and no longer pinned the giant to the ground. The once ferocious and terrifying expression faded from the Deathclaw's face, leaving behind a hint of docility, which allowed the thick-haired giant to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

Only then did the giant stand up, revealing his thick-bearded face. He glanced first at the other members of the expedition, then at Wayne and the others, and spoke in somewhat broken Common Tongue:

"Who are you, and why are you near my home?"

"And what kind of creature is this terrifying beast? Why did it attack me?"

Bilbo, still perched on his pony, quickly interjected:

"You were the one who charged down the hillside first, looking like you were going to attack us! You looked so fierce. If we hadn't stopped you, you might have eaten us."

The giant, whom Gandalf had earlier referred to as Beorn, paused in surprise before straightening up. He bowed his head slightly and apologized:

"I'm sorry! When I change into bear form, my thoughts become... difficult to control. I only saw strangers near my home and came to investigate."

"My name is Beorn. I live here, and I had no intention of harming you."

Seeing the sincerity of his apology, the group decided to let it go. After all, it was partly their fault for approaching his home without permission. The misunderstanding stemmed from the fact that Gandalf had assured them that the owner of the house was an old friend, which made everyone lower their guard.

Facing the questioning looks from the rest of the company, Gandalf seemed slightly embarrassed. Stroking his white beard, he smiled apologetically and addressed Beorn, the towering giant:

"Do not worry, Beorn. We have come to visit you. Although we have never met before, I have long known of you. I am Gandalf the Grey, and we are passing through on our way to the Lonely Mountain beyond the dark forest."

Gandalf, ever the smooth talker, deftly explained their situation. His words, though slightly vague, managed to ease the tension. Beorn, who bore a deep grudge against orcs, warmed to them immediately when he learned that their company had slain the infamous pale orc, Azog, in the Misty Mountains. Despite his general distrust of dwarves, his attitude quickly shifted to one of hospitality. He invited them into his home and treated them to a hearty meal.

Beorn, one of the last skin-changers, hailed from distant lands. Standing over three and a half meters tall, covered in thick hair, and generally peaceful in nature, Beorn nevertheless held a deep hatred for orcs. His kin had been largely wiped out by orc armies, leaving only a few survivors like him. He had since vowed to fight back whenever possible, sabotaging the orcs' efforts and hunting them relentlessly.

Given their shared enmity toward the orcs, Beorn took an immediate liking to Wayne, who impressed him with his cooking, strength, and the legend of single-handedly destroying the entire orc town. During their stay, Wayne and Beorn even teamed up for a few expert-level tasks, clearing out nearby orc outposts and hunting large game to stock up supplies for the company's impending journey through the dark forest.

After resting for three days at Beorn's homestead, the expedition felt rejuvenated. Though they had plenty of time, they knew their mission was urgent. With thanks and goodbyes, they accepted many gifts of supplies from Beorn and headed toward the Dark Forest, with the giant bear accompanying them as an escort.

Before parting ways, Beorn made a solemn promise: should they ever need help in their war against the orcs, they need only send word, and he would come to fight by their side. 

Beorn, with his ability to transform into a giant bear, was undeniably a powerful ally. Gandalf, ever the strategist in the battle against the dark forces, recognized this promise as invaluable. Gandalf's role throughout the ages had been to unite the scattered peoples of Middle-earth against the growing threat of the Dark Lord Sauron. Through diplomacy and wisdom, he had bridged the gaps between different races, helping them form alliances to fend off evil.

However, Gandalf, despite his wisdom and strength, was sometimes too trusting, which often left him vulnerable to deceit. Still, his principled approach endeared him to many, and his sincerity was never in doubt.

Once they entered the Dark Forest, the company's pace slowed drastically. Unlike ordinary forests, the trees in this foreboding woodland were ancient, enormous, and tightly packed, blocking out almost all sunlight. Their twisted branches wove a canopy so dense that navigating beneath them became a challenge.

The terrain beneath the trees was equally treacherous, with tangled roots and overgrown paths giving way to treacherous quagmires and swampy puddles. The horses struggled to make headway, often doubling back when the way forward became impassable, and much time was lost as they navigated the thick undergrowth.

Yet, with Gandalf leading them, they avoided the dark enchantments that had once made the company fall into deep stupors, as had been the case in the original tale.

The grey-robed wizard Gandalf excelled at removing curses and disabling traps. His vast knowledge had helped the expedition team overcome many obstacles. However, the giant spiders in Mirkwood made the wizard particularly uneasy. Gandalf could sense that the dark forces were spreading throughout Middle-earth, growing in strength and scope. The return of the Dark Lord Sauron seemed closer than ever.

Although Gandalf had long anticipated this, the reality was more pressing than he had feared. The darkness needed to be addressed swiftly.

One evening, before the group settled for sleep, Gandalf gathered everyone around and made an announcement.

"I'm sorry, Thorin, Wayne. After we emerge from Mirkwood, I must leave the company and return to Rivendell," Gandalf said gravely.

"The dark power of Dol Guldur is growing too quickly. Radagast has informed me that the Witch-King of Angmar is amassing his forces there. The wizards must unite our efforts to weaken the Witch-King before his plans come to fruition."

"Otherwise, it will be disastrous for all of Middle-earth."

After delivering this news, Gandalf noticed the displeasure on Thorin's face but was met with no objections. To ease the tension, he added:

"But Thorin, rest assured. There are still three months until the secret door on your father's map opens. I will return to you before then and join you in the fight against Smaug."

Perhaps because of his recent hardships—the loss of his arm and the fulfillment of his vow to avenge his father and grandfather—Thorin seemed more mature. His response was calm, though his face betrayed some lingering unhappiness.

The dwarf prince patted Gandalf on the back, forcing a smile, and said:

"Do not worry about us, Gandalf. Middle-earth needs you. Go, do your duty. Come back to us when you can."

"And don't concern yourself with Smaug. With Bilbo the Burglar and Wayne here, we will succeed."

His words revealed a newfound growth that impressed not only the dwarves of the company but also Wayne. The once stubborn and hardened prince now carried himself with the grace of a king in the making. Wayne, too, began to reassess his opinion of Thorin. Perhaps Thorin's extreme behavior had stemmed from the burdens he had carried for so long. Now, with the death of Azog, his great enemy, he seemed to have set those burdens down and emerged stronger.

If Thorin truly developed the qualities of a great king, Wayne would be willing to help him become the King Under the Mountain, cementing the friendship between them.

Time moved swiftly, and half a month passed as the company continued their journey through the dense and shadowy expanse of Mirkwood. The forest grew darker and more treacherous, with an increasing number of giant spiders lurking in the gloom. These creatures spun their webs in places difficult to spot, laying traps that could easily snare the unwary.

In this sunless forest, where visibility was limited and danger lurked behind every shadow, it was a constant battle to avoid the traps of the spiders or becoming prey to unseen predators.

Despite the perils, the journey was not as dangerous as it might have been, thanks to the presence of the mighty Deathclaw, Robin. With such a powerful ally, the expedition continued forward, undeterred by the creeping menace around them.

Whether it was swamps, giant spiders, or dark magic, none of these challenges compared to the eight-meter-tall, immensely powerful Deathclaw, Robin.

Ever since Wayne had tasked Robin with scouting ahead, most of the obstacles in Mirkwood had proven futile. Neither tangled tree roots nor the lurking giant spiders could withstand the might of the Deathclaw.

Sometimes, when the company needed to cross the swamp, Wayne would simply instruct Robin to cut down nearby trees, using them as floating bridges to ease the group's passage across the treacherous terrain.

Though the giant spiders of Mirkwood, descendants of the monstrous Ungoliant, were not mindless beasts, they were cunning creatures. Like the wargs allied with the orcs, these spiders could be considered an intelligent race, possessing thoughts and the ability to communicate. Confronted with a terrifying foe like the Deathclaw, which they could tell was far beyond their power, they wisely refrained from provoking it.

A few days later, as the company made their way through the depths of the jungle, Wayne suddenly felt they were being surrounded. He raised his hand, signaling the group to halt. Glancing upward, he spotted a shadowy figure moving among the treetops.

Without hesitation, Wayne hurled a stone with precision, knocking a figure clad in armor from the trees with a loud thud. The figure groaned in pain upon hitting the ground, revealing himself to be a male elf.

In an instant, the dwarves raised their weapons, preparing for a fight. Simultaneously, dozens of elves in green armor, armed with large bows, appeared from the trees, their expressions tense and wary.

Sensing his master's heightened alertness, Robin the Deathclaw, who had been quietly walking beside the group, let out a deafening roar that echoed through the jungle, causing everyone's ears to ring and filling the air with tension.

...

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