Chapter 18: The Dwarf

It was not a very good morning; the sun appeared and disappeared among the clouds. Allen, climbing through the mountains, muttered to himself. He felt that Arien, the goddess, was not driving the Sun-ship well today. Of course, he only dared to grumble slightly in his heart and did not dare to speak it aloud.

By this time, it had been two hours since they escaped the tunnel of the Misty Mountains.

More than two hours ago, after Bolg escaped Allen's blockade and fled in a panic toward Orc Town, Allen had urgently assembled all his soldiers. He barely cleaned up the battlefield, only collecting Bolg's giant net, and then had those with remaining stamina carry the wounded and captives, intending to return along the original path and escape the tunnel of the Misty Mountains.

At this moment, among the rescued captives was an elderly Dwarf who struggled and said on Allen's back: "You absolutely cannot go in this direction. This place is too close to Orc Town. I know another hidden exit that we Dwarves discovered by chance when we were attacking the Orcs back then. Perhaps even the Orc whelps haven't discovered this path. We can take that road, cough, cough, cough..."

As he spoke, the elderly Dwarf coughed a few times, rested for a moment, and then said again: "You also cannot just walk back like this. If you do, the Wargs can sniff out your scent and track you all the way to your homes. You wouldn't want the wolf whelps showing up at your door in the middle of the night, would you? I see you have a way to start a fire. You could pile the Orc corpses here and light them all. By then, the stench of burning corpses permeating the tunnel will disrupt the Wargs' sense of smell. What do you say, human lad?"

Allen readily adopted the elderly Dwarf's suggestion. He was not some stubborn fool; why choose a more dangerous approach when there was a better suggestion? And this old Dwarf who had just been rescued would not likely help the Orcs harm them. During this period, the grievances between the Dwarves and Orcs living in Rhovanion were simply too numerous to record.

Soon, following the elderly Dwarf's suggestion, Allen led his men to pile a large number of Orc corpses at the river entrance, poured Fire Oil on them, and set them ablaze.

Afterward, everyone paid no mind to the burning Orc corpses. Instead, under the guidance of the elderly Dwarf, they wove through the tunnel for about a quarter of an hour before finding an exit that emitted light, leaving the tunnel of the Misty Mountains.

What Allen did not know was that just as they walked out of the tunnel, Bolg rushed to the river channel again. If Allen had followed his original plan, he would inevitably have had to fight Bolg again in the tunnel.

However, Allen was in no mood to care about such problems at this time. The older generation always told him that going up the mountain is easy but going down is hard. Allen finally understood this now. When going up the mountain, everyone was full of energy; although the road was not easy to walk, at least everyone's spirit was good.

Now, going down the mountain with Aota, who was more familiar with the forest, leading the way—not to mention whether the road was easy—everyone had spent most of the last two days and one night on a long trek, had only slept for three hours, and had fought a battle with the Orcs in between. Everyone's mental state was extremely poor. Some soldiers in slightly better spirits had to carry or support the rescued captives and wounded. The atmosphere of the entire team was very heavy; no one said a word, all silently hurrying on their way. It wasn't that they were in a bad mood; it was just that everyone was too tired.

Although Allen was also very tired at this time, his mood was quite good. This trip not only rescued Beorn's family but also yielded three extra Dwarves and two Silvan Elves.

After these Dwarves ate a little and drank some water, they had already recovered some of their state. The two young lads could already walk slowly with the support of others. It is a race known for being strong and enduring, after all. Here, one must also mention that their greed is also very famous; of course, this is just one of their many "insignificant" traits.

The state of the two Elves was very poor. From the numerous scars on their bodies and their dull eyes, one could see how inhumanely the Orcs had treated them. The toll on their bodies from their ravaged souls was simply too great. At this moment, they had just closed their eyes under the care of Allen's men. In fact, Elves do not need to sleep specifically; if necessary, they can even sleep while running. Allen guessed that they were likely soothing their wounded souls at this time.

The old man on Allen's back was different. His name was Fudin. Of the two young Dwarves, one was his nephew named Fulei, and the other was the son of his old friend named Tier. Their group of more than twenty people was preparing to cross the Misty Mountains to visit relatives in the Blue Mountains. A portion of Durin's Folk still lived there. Moreover, he had a very distant connection to Thorin Oakenshield, the ruler of the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains, because he had a connection to Dain II, the Dwarf King of the Iron Hills, and thus naturally had a connection to Thorin. It was too complicated; Allen did not fully understand it.

Dwarves are a long-lived race. By the Third Age, they could usually live to be over 250 years old, which was already a sign of their decline. In the much more distant past, they could live even longer. They valued family affection extremely highly in their lives, especially the father-son relationship. Fudin was precisely because his son had followed Thorin Oakenshield to the Blue Mountains that he thought of traveling in company to the Blue Mountains to see how his own son was living.

Due to well-known reasons—which was actually just the business between the Dwarves and the Silvan Elves—Fudin and his group did not choose to go to the Misty Mountains via the Old Forest Road. Instead, they risked choosing the Dale, which was actually ruled by a dragon, bypassed the Greyflood from the northern end of Mirkwood, and then headed to the Misty Mountains. Of course, they might not have known that the Old Forest Road was already unsafe at this time, and the Forest Elves had also abandoned that territory.

They were lucky not to have been discovered by Smaug, who slept on gold every day, but they had far underestimated the activity level of the Orcs in the Wilderness. Fudin was an old Dwarf Warrior who had participated in the Battle of Azanulbizar (Battle of Moria). In his impression, the Orcs of the Misty Mountains should have been mostly killed off by them. But as soon as they crossed the Greyflood, they ran into Bolg, who was out hunting. The combat power of Dwarves is usually very high; they are all battle-hardened Warriors. However, as the old saying goes, two fists are no match for four hands. They could not outrun the Wolf Riders in the Wilderness, so after most of them died in battle, they were humiliated and captured. And now, only Fudin and the other two had survived.

The elderly Dwarf chattered a lot on Allen's back, from his self-introduction to the process of being captured, from the past glory of Durin's Folk to the current prosperity of the Iron Hills. He enthusiastically invited Allen to be a guest at his home in the Iron Hills, promising that he would definitely offer the best wine and food to thank Allen for his life-saving grace.

In fact, compared to Humans, most Dwarves are usually quite honest. As long as it does not involve large amounts of gold or magnificent gems, they generally keep the oaths they make. But this does not include old Dwarves who have lived for a considerable time. It is not that the promises they make will not be fulfilled, but that they bury the things they want within their promises.

Allen knew Fudin's thoughts. This old Dwarf needed Allen to send them back to the Iron Hills, but Allen had no such thoughts at all, at least not now. It was not that Allen had not thought about how to help them and send them back to their homes, but after thinking it over, there was really no good way.

Given Allen's current situation, there was no way to pull out an army, spend a month or two sending them back, and spend another month or two rushing back. This was not a question of how much it would cost, but it was too difficult for a village that had just stabilized.

However, it was not impossible, but it would require the help of those two Elves. All premises would have to wait until they recovered before they could be discussed.

Therefore, Allen tactfully indicated that he would definitely have the opportunity to go to the Iron Hills in the future. He also admired Dain II, the king who ruled there, very much, and would need Fudin to introduce him when the time came. It was just that his village was currently in ruins and waiting to be rebuilt, so he might not be able to go in the short term. However, Allen did not close the door on the idea, but instead calmly suggested that if the two Silvan Elves recovered well, Allen would consider sending them back to Mirkwood first. This way, Allen could take Fudin and the other two through Mirkwood to the Iron Hills together, which would save a lot of time and be relatively safer.

Fudin scoffed at the proposal to send the Elves back first, but as someone with rich experience, he knew this was the best way. However, he did not give up there, but instead began to praise his nephew on Allen's back, saying that Fulei was an experienced blacksmith, especially skilled in weapon forging. If Allen needed, no, old Fudin was certain that Allen's village definitely needed such an experienced blacksmith, and hoped that Allen could give Fulei a job opportunity.

There was no reason for Allen to refuse such a request, so he expressed that he would be very welcome for Fulei to serve as a blacksmith in the village, and that he would definitely provide very good compensation.

Seeing that Allen had agreed, old Fudin finally breathed a sigh of relief and quieted down. Soon, he fell asleep on Allen's back. The old man had been chattering non-stop along the way, and he was tired at this moment.

And Allen finally had his own time to sort out his thoughts and recall the information about Dwarves in this world (a simple review, to avoid being "watery").

In Allen's view, the birth process of the Dwarves indicated their ill-fated destiny. Aule, the craftsman among the Valar, did not receive permission from Eru Iluvatar when creating them. Moreover, Aule's power was not enough to create perfect beings. At that time, the newly born Dwarves were like puppets, possessing only a little instinct—the instinct for survival. When Eru Iluvatar learned of this, he rebuked Aule. Although Aule could not bear it, he chose to destroy the Dwarves he had created with his own hands. The merciful Eru Iluvatar saw Aule's obedience and also perceived this instinct for survival in the Dwarves, so he forgave Aule, adopted the Dwarves, and bestowed souls upon them. Only then were the Dwarves able to multiply in Arda. Furthermore, Eru Iluvatar did not allow the Dwarves to awaken before the Firstborn of Eru Iluvatar, the Elves, and the Secondborn, the Humans.

Allen always felt that the Dwarves were like stepchildren, and fate did not let them off even then.

Especially Durin's Folk of the Third Age; they went from prosperity to decline. From their ancient home of Khazad-dum (Moria) being driven to the Lonely Mountain by a Balrog, then migrating from the Lonely Mountain to the Grey Mountains, and then being driven back to the Lonely Mountain and the Iron Hills by a Cold Dragon in the Grey Mountains. After finally living a stable life in the Lonely Mountain for a period of time, they were attacked by the dragon Smaug again and driven back to the Blue Mountains. The tragic figures in this process were countless.

Among them, the one Allen felt most sorry for was Thorin Oakenshield, who went through all kinds of hardships and finally recovered the Lonely Mountain, only to die at the hands of Azog in the end. Allen had been thinking about whether Thorin Oakenshield, who had overcome the Dragon Sickness, could have ruled the Dwarves better than Dain II and resisted the dark forces in the north.

Of course, it must be mentioned here that their tortuous fate was naturally inseparable from their greedy personality. But Allen sometimes wondered if this was Eru Iluvatar's disguised punishment for the Dwarves. Because Humans are also greedy, but they do not have the craftsmanship of the Dwarves to create wealth. Human greed is always manifested in betrayal and slaughtering their own kind, so they have not been targeted by powerful alien species because of excessive wealth, which would bring disaster.

However, the Dwarves' attainments in craftsmanship are indeed second to none. Allen felt very happy that his village would soon have a Dwarf craftsman.