Unlike Rivendell's customarily peaceful and silent atmosphere, a great wave of enthusiasm, revelry, and deafening clamor dominated the area assigned to the Oakenshield company. Contrary to the norm, this bustling crowd, which now harbored over fifty dwarves and some thirty humans, was having an incredibly lively and joyful time. In the very heart of this sweet chaos, Kargan and Zoltan had fixed their undivided attention on the little human boy standing before them. Zoltan asked with burning curiosity.
"So, who do you think will win?"
Estel shrugged his shoulders with a perfectly relaxed demeanor and spoke.
"I don't know, but Bamsı has the advantage in terms of raw strength."
Surprised by this remarkably clear assessment, Zoltan raised his bushy eyebrows and asked.
"Why do you think that?"
Estel paused for a moment. He gathered his thoughts, looking as if he were carefully reviewing the data in his mind, before answering.
"I have been spending time with this group for a few days now. I've seen how Bamsı and Ordo fight, and how many men they can handle at once. Besides, Bilbo told me that Bamsı once wrestled a full-grown brown bear bare-handed and actually won."
Upon hearing these words, Zoltan and Kargan stared at Estel in sheer disbelief. For a brief second, Zoltan thought his ears were clogged or dirty, digging his pinky finger into his ear to clean it. Wanting to be absolutely sure, he leaned in.
"Boy, what did you just say?"
Looking straight into Zoltan's bewildered face, Estel repeated his previous sentence with crystal clarity.
"Bamsı wrestled an adult brown bear bare-handed and won."
Hearing this, Zoltan blinked rapidly, finally completely convinced that he had heard correctly. Immediately afterward, a fiercely determined expression settled on his face. He spun around toward the crowd and roared at the top of his lungs.
"40 SILVER ON BAMSI!"
Shaking off his own shock at his friend's sudden outburst, Kargan turned back to the boy.
"If you know this, why aren't you entirely sure that Bamsı will win?"
Estel looked at Kargan, offering a highly logical explanation.
"Because during their training, Ordo pushes Bamsı to his limits, and there are even times when he wins. Because Ordo has grown accustomed to Bamsı's fighting technique, he actually won three of their recent sparring matches."
Hearing this, Kargan thoughtfully turned his head to look at the two formidable men struggling at the table. After spending a few seconds weighing the odds in his mind, he made his decision. He was just preparing to raise his hand to place a bet when the familiar, warning voice of his wife suddenly echoed in his ears. His mind swiftly dragged him back to a scene from the past.
The memory of the day he stood at the door of their home in the Witcher universe flashed before his eyes. As Kargan stood there, awkwardly scratching his head with an embarrassed posture, his wife stood right in front of him, piercing her husband with a fierce glare and scolding him. In the woman's arms rested their newborn baby. The woman spoke in a tone that was stern yet entirely calm, without ever raising her voice.
"Kargan! No more gambling!"
Kargan looked deeply distressed by the situation. He stared helplessly at his wife and tried to object.
"But—"
His wife cut him off with an uncompromisingly harsh attitude.
"No buts! You lost half of our savings! Promise me and swear that you will never gamble again!"
Not knowing what to say, Kargan squirmed uncomfortably where he stood. Seeing her husband's stubborn resistance, his wife changed her strategy, choosing to strike him right at his weakest point. She gently held the baby in her arms out toward Kargan. For a moment, Kargan didn't know what to do; he lowered his eyes to his little daughter, who was looking up at him in wide-eyed wonder. The little girl, completely unaware of the evils of the world, gazed at her father with an innocent smile, reaching out her tiny arms, wanting her father to hold her. The very last crumb of resistance inside Kargan melted away at this sight. With a softening expression, he took his daughter into his arms, holding her carefully as if afraid to break her, and looked into her face. The little girl giggled with pure joy, immensely pleased to be in her father's embrace, and began to play with his thick beard. That sweet sound was more than enough for Kargan to raise the white flag of surrender, and he finally spoke.
"Alright, my love. I promise, you have a dwarf's word. I won't gamble anymore."
As this memory slowly faded from his mind, Kargan returned to reality and let out a deep sigh. With a sweet sorrow in his heart and the heavy weight of the promise he had made to his wife, he slowly lowered the hand he was about to raise. He cast one final, brief glance at the highly entertaining scene unfolding before him, completely abandoned the idea of betting, and turned back to Estel.
"Where is your mother, lad?"
Hearing the question, Estel turned his head and scanned the crowded hall. Then, he pointed his finger at his mother, who was sitting next to the Khuzait group, deeply engrossed in a conversation with the women there.
"She is right over there."
Kargan looked in the direction the boy pointed, nodding to indicate he understood before posing a new question.
"And what about your father? Where is he?"
Estel suddenly flinched at this unexpected question. The bright joy in his eyes vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. He lowered his head, staring at the ground with evident sorrow. The fact that the boy didn't utter a single word, combined with his desolate posture, was more than enough for an experienced man like Kargan to grasp the tragic reality.
"I understand... so, what are you doing in Rivendell?"
With the change in topic, Estel quickly shook off the gloomy atmosphere and gathered himself. Puffing out his chest with childish pride, he looked up at Kargan and answered eagerly.
"I live here. Lord Elrond is my adoptive father!"
Upon hearing this revelation, Kargan raised his eyebrows in profound astonishment.
"An Elven king made you his adopted son?"
Estel nodded in confirmation. For a moment, Kargan just stared blankly at the boy's face, unable to believe it, before muttering to himself in awe.
"… This world is very different…"
Kargan was genuinely astounded by what he had heard; in the lands he hailed from, it was almost impossible for different races to form such an intimate bond. However, this tangible reality standing right in front of him made the seeds of hope he held for this new world blossom. He whispered softly in his heart.
'We truly can live here peacefully, just exactly as we desire.'
While Kargan and Estel shared this little conversation, the deafening roars of bets and hearty laughter continued to fill the air. Meanwhile, Igris turned to the Elf guard who had approached him, looking slightly overwhelmed by the sheer noise of the environment. Igris handed over the poison vial he had retrieved from his inventory. Then, he smiled warmly and spoke.
"A noise you are not accustomed to, isn't it?"
The Elf guard gave a slight, polite nod in agreement.
"Yes."
Then, asking for permission to deliver the vial, he looked at Igris.
"By your leave, I must take the poison vial to my lord."
Igris gave an approving nod.
"You have my leave."
After the Elf guard bowed respectfully and departed, Igris turned around and cast a sweeping glance over the scene created by the chaotic crowd. Matheld and Dwalin had plunged into what seemed to be a highly profound, academic debate regarding battle axes. Bamsı and Ordo, on the other hand, had managed to gather almost the entire hall around themselves. Bofur had climbed onto a chair; placing his own hand firmly over the clasped hands of Bamsı and Ordo on the table, he stood with the absolute authority of a referee, trying to silence the roaring crowd.
"Gentlemen, I want a fair fight! Our rules are..."
Faced with this highly entertaining yet utterly chaotic scene, Igris shook his head helplessly. Just then, his eyes caught the little boy chatting with Kargan in the corner. With a mixture of surprise and curiosity welling up inside him, he asked Balin, who was standing beside him.
"Who is this little one?"
Balin turned to look at the boy, then chuckled affectionately as he stroked his thick beard.
"Ah! This is Estel. He's been coming around for a few days to spend time with us."
Igris blinked as he heard the name.
'Estel? Where do I know this name from?'
He turned back to Balin and continued his questioning.
"Where is his mother? Why are they in Rivendell?"
Hearing this, the old dwarf pointed to the woman who was deeply engrossed in a conversation with the Khuzait women.
"That's his mother right there. She got quite close with our girls; whenever she comes over to chat, the boy spends his time with us."
Balin laughed merrily, continuing to stroke his beard.
"Frankly, I like the boy; he possesses a very different kind of energy. He's asked me various questions about the Dwarves and the Seven Fathers. Even Thorin has taken a liking to him; he occasionally tells him stories and gives him advice."
Igris raised his eyebrows in sheer surprise at this information and looked directly at Thorin. He blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. Thorin's attention seemed to have drifted far away from them once again, fixated on an entirely different point. Igris stepped closer to Balin and whispered in a tone only the old dwarf could hear.
"Alright. Explain to me why Thorin looks far more distracted than usual."
Balin chuckled, looking thoroughly pleased with the situation, and whispered back, adopting a deeply mysterious air.
"It seems spring has arrived for our king."
Igris practically froze upon hearing the answer.
"What do you mean?"
Balin merely shrugged and continued without breaking his mysterious tone.
"Who knows..."
Igris stared at Balin in silence for a moment. Feeling far too lazy to overthink the matter, he decided not to push the subject any further.
'Never mind, the truth will come out when the time is right.'
He then turned back to look at the little boy who was still talking to Kargan amidst the crowd. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
'Estel... Estel... Estel... Where have I heard this name before... It's right on the tip of my tongue, but I just can't remember it...'
He continued to stare at the boy thoughtfully for a moment, as if scanning through the archives of his past.
'Did I encounter someone with this name during my missions... No, Estel is a name in the Elven tongue...'
Igris continued to push his mind to its limits.
'Estel... Estel...'
For a fleeting second, it was as if a lightbulb lit up in his brain.
'Estel!'
But that brief moment of mental clarity faded away just as quickly as it had appeared.
'No, I can't remember... Never mind, the truth of this will also reveal itself when the time comes.'
Yet, a nagging feeling inside still gnawed at him subtly.
'But why does it feel like I've forgotten something incredibly important...'
Finally giving up, he let out a deep sigh and turned back to Balin.
"I am going over to Halt and Gilan. You go take care of your distracted king."
When Balin nodded in agreement, Igris left his side and headed toward the table where the Rangers were stationed. At present, he couldn't recall what the name Estel actually meant or its grand significance, primarily because he hadn't been a hardcore Middle-earth fan in his past life. He was just an ordinary young man who had read some lore out of passing curiosity or watched a few short videos on the internet... At least in that regard, he was completely ordinary. He must have only heard the name Estel and its meaning once or twice, but twenty whole years had passed since those days. In those twenty years, he had lived through so much and gained such vastly different experiences that many things regarding his old world had blurred in his memory. Some basic details, like Galadriel's true name, remained in his mind only thanks to a few die-hard Tolkien fan friends he knew in England and America; but Estel was a subject that had entirely faded into oblivion.
When he reached the table, he cut straight to the chase. Kili and Bilbo had already left the table, mingling with the noisy crowd in the center to join the thrill of the betting.
"What are you two doing?"
Halt raised his head for a second, looking at Igris with calm, calculating eyes. Then, lowering his head again, he focused his attention on the large map spread out before him and answered.
"A detailed map of Erebor and the Dale region that I acquired from the Elves. It is an updated version, improved with the help of Balin and Thorin."
This sentence entirely captured Igris's absolute interest. He immediately took a step forward and leaned over the map on the table with great curiosity.
"Don't forget that no one has approached Erebor for a hundred years; this map is not current."
Halt calmly nodded in response.
"I am aware."
Wanting to hear the strategic side of things, Igris looked back and forth between Gilan and Halt.
"So, what are your thoughts?"
Igris was well aware that founding a state from scratch and keeping it alive was no easy feat. Because of this, he placed immense value on the experiences and insights of the two senior Rangers. Gilan and Halt studied the map on the table carefully for a while longer. Gilan was the first to speak.
"Settling here is going to be difficult, Igris."
Halt nodded, confirming his apprentice's assessment.
"The closest settlement to us is Lake-town."
Halt tapped his thick finger on the city symbol located in the middle of the large lake on the map, continuing his explanation.
"From what I have heard from the Elves, the leader of this place is an absolute blood-sucking bastard."
Igris nodded, as if he already knew this perfectly well.
"Yes. I am fully aware of that; that fool and his deputy, Alfrid, are a threat to our peace. That is why I ordered the vanguard unit to conquer that place first."
Seeing his unwavering resolve, the duo nodded their heads in approval. Gilan changed the subject.
"Well then, is there any news from the vanguard units?"
Igris let out a troubled sigh as he nodded.
"Yes, they are currently in conflict with an Orc tribe; I have already sent them reinforcements. They are now a force of over five hundred men, the number of ranged troops is high, and four Khan's Guards are by their side, so they shouldn't have any more problems."
Halt and Gilan looked deeply thoughtful upon hearing this massive number. Igris, on the other hand, sighed deeply once more. He had actually seriously considered bringing 50 Battanian Fian Champions with him; he could have easily procured spare horses from Elrond, and their route passed through the highly treacherous Misty Mountains and Mirkwood. In such harsh geography, the Battanian Fians—who were experienced woodland warriors and the deadliest, finest archers of Calradia—would have undoubtedly been far more effective. However, considering the overall state of the camp he had left behind, he had been forced to push this massive advantage away with his own hands. The real reason he hadn't sent the Fians to the camp was that his existing imperial soldiers were currently serving as the temporary commanders of the settlement. The peoples of Battania, Nord, and Sturgia were the most rebellious, difficult humans to live alongside and bring under command. Frankly, Igris had been inwardly hesitant even when sending the Sturgian recruits to the camp. Just as he was pondering all this, a momentary pang of worry struck his heart.
'The temporary commander of the camp can keep the men under control, right?'
Shelving these doubts in his mind for the time being, he shook his head and poured all his focus into the task before him.
"Continue."
Gilan acknowledged him and resumed his analysis right from where he left off.
"The problem is, we are at a very adverse time of the year regarding seasons. Summer is almost over, autumn is fast approaching. After this season, it will be incredibly difficult for us to establish agricultural lands."
Halt added, as if completing his words.
"The commercial situation isn't very good either. Because of the dragon, merchants do not approach this region. Even the dwarves of the Iron Hills rarely send trade caravans."
Gilan traced his finger along the eastern section of the map and continued.
"Numerous Orc tribes are actively moving about in the eastern parts of the mountain. One or two tribes are not an issue, but during the foundational phase, we are going to need a solid city wall and serious military strength."
Then, he pointed out the high-altitude, hilly regions on the map one by one.
"We need to build archer-heavy garrisons and watchtowers in these areas."
Gilan pointed out twelve different key locations positioned in and around Dale, each roughly ten kilometers away from the city. Every single one of these points was at specific, nearly equal distances from one another; more importantly, they were aligned in such a way that they would have a crystal-clear line of sight to each other. Gilan detailed his grand plan.
"Thanks to these points, we can detect our enemies or anyone coming to cause trouble well in advance. I plan to use a large beacon fire or whistling arrows as a signal."
While Igris listened to him carefully, continuing to weigh the tactical plan in his mind, Halt interjected this time.
"Furthermore, another problem we face is that Dale and its surroundings are like a steppe; there are only sparse trees and small groves. This creates a severe disadvantage for us Rangers. The closest forest to us is Mirkwood, and that is the territory of Elves, giant spiders, and god knows what else."
Then, looking directly and seriously into Igris's eyes, he added.
"If you want to establish the Rangers in this world, we need to find a solution. A proper training ground and stables for raising Ranger horses are absolutely essential."
Gilan immediately backed up his master.
"We also need a secret gathering area, but I don't know if such places exist in this region. Moreover, we need to identify the areas where villages and towns will be established early on."
This final sentence literally left Igris dumbfounded. Not knowing what to expect, he quickly asked.
"Right now!? We don't even have a city yet! Why are we determining village areas immediately?"
Halt sighed, speaking with the exhaustion that came from dealing with an inexperienced ruler.
"It is necessary for agriculture and animal husbandry, Igris. We cannot constantly procure food from the outside; we must establish a solid production chain. Even in Araluen, establishing a village or town from scratch is a difficult and arduous task. The earlier we lay the foundations, determine the areas, and draw the borders, the better it will be."
Gilan confirmed his master, continuing to list out the harsh realities.
"Halt is right. Production and trade are crucial, and because of your unpredictable ability, we never know when or how many people will arrive; we must stockpile a massive surplus of food. We'll need to build storage facilities, and we have to rapidly increase our farming and livestock."
Following his former apprentice's highly logical and rapid-fire analysis, Halt added his own assessment.
"To do all of this, we need a master builder and a serious construction force."
Gilan did not stop either.
"And materials… abundant amounts of materials. However, our location poses another problem yet again. It will be very difficult to find any materials other than rock and soil; right from the very beginning, we will need to build a town or a large city."
Caught under this relentless verbal assault and chain of logic coming from both the master and apprentice left and right, Igris was utterly overwhelmed. Of course, he had thought about some of these things superficially, but critical details he had entirely failed to calculate or that had completely slipped his mind were now being laid bare before his very eyes by Gilan and Halt. He began to think deeply. After a brief period of contemplation where he lined up all these issues in his mind, he finally spoke.
"We still have time before we reach Dale. I don't know how many more people will join us by then, but surely one or two master builders will emerge among them. Besides, considering our relationship with the Dwarves, Thorin might be able to arrange a few masons for us. As for the food issue, I will have boats built for fishing, and I plan to heavily focus on livestock; I have already sent 95 goats to the vanguard camp."
Then, leaning back over the map, he continued to impart his grand vision.
"It would be wise to afforest the surroundings of Dale and certain designated areas. In less than 50 years, the area will be covered in forests. Considering our incredibly long lifespans, this idea will work out perfectly."
Pausing for a brief moment to gather the complex swirl of thoughts in his head, he finished his words.
"When it comes to materials, utilizing stonemasonry would be the most logical choice. Perhaps, thanks to my ability, a few house blueprints will appear, and I will just buy them. But we cannot do much right now. The road is long; we will plan many of these things along the way. Who knows what the future will bring us?"