"Hyah!"The sharp crack of hooves tore through the quiet of Hobbiton as twelve fully armored riders thundered down the narrow lane.
"Caslow, you sure this is the right road?" the young knight barked at his squire.
"Yes—uh, I mean… probably? I think so. You know how it is, my lord… these country lanes go in circles," the dragon-rider Caslow stammered.
"For crying out loud! Are you all useless?" Roland bit back the urge to swear.
"Oh—sorry, brothers, didn't mean it like that." Realizing he'd spoken a bit harshly, Roland quickly backpedaled.
"Alright, keep asking around. Let's figure out where the hell this damn Bag End is," he sighed.
…
"Hey! Friend, sorry to bother you—do you know where Bilbo Baggins lives?" Roland asked every passerby they met.
After getting nowhere, he finally muttered under his breath, "Who was it that said Hobbits were friendly again?"
"Hello—mind if I ask, do you know Bilbo Baggins?" he tried again, this time to a Hobbit lounging in his garden.
"Baggins? What do you want with him?" the young Hobbit asked, puzzled.
"Uh… okay, here's the thing—pretty soon a bunch of dwarves and a wizard are gonna come knocking on his door. I'm trying to find those dwarves." Roland explained.
"Well… I'm him. But I haven't seen any dwarves. A wizard did drop by today though—asked me to go on an adventure with him. Even funnier, he wanted me to be a burglar! I don't even know how to fight!" Bilbo Baggins said.
"Uh… huh." Roland blinked, caught off guard. Perfect timing, apparently. He gave Bilbo a look of sympathy—tonight was gonna wreck his pantry. Thirteen dwarves could strip the place bare in an hour.
Glancing toward the corner of Bilbo's round green door, Roland smiled. "Well then, Mr. Baggins—see you tonight."
"Uh… wait, you mean… you're coming here for dinner?" Bilbo asked, startled.
"Yes. Just prepare food for me, my men won't be joining. Oh, and I'm Roland." He gave a friendly grin.
"Alright, sir. You're welcome here tonight," Bilbo replied politely.
…
Bond of Fate: Achieved! Reward—90 Squire Knights! Can be summoned at any time.
The Lord of the Rings system on Roland's finger finally stirred to life again.
"Ninety knights… plus the ten I've already got. That's a full hundred—enough to form an entire knightly order!" Roland had to stop himself from laughing out loud.
He found a quiet spot to summon them, then used his newly earned gold from the system to rent out a larger inn for the night, enough for all his followers.
The crisp clatter of hooves echoed as the knights arrived—efficient as always, and without drawing suspicion. No one knew they had simply been conjured from the wild plains.
As the sky began to darken, Roland called Caslow over to arrange the men's lodging while he prepared for his "banquet."
…
Ding ding ding!The doorbell of Bag End chimed under Roland's knock.
Boom!The moment the door swung open, the smell of food hit him like a wave—mixed with a chaotic jumble of voices. The dwarves were already in full swing.
Roland's eyes twitched at the sight of the mess inside. He was still debating whether to step in when he caught Bilbo's downcast look.
"Mr. Roland… do you… know something about this? And, uh, sorry about the food I promised you…" Bilbo said awkwardly.
"It's fine, Bilbo, no worries," Roland assured him, stepping in.
One glance inside and he spotted Gandalf right away—that robe and staff gave him away instantly.
"Honored Gandalf, greetings," Roland said with a bow.
Then his eyes shifted to the dwarf at the head of the table. "Should I call you Thorin Oakenshield… or King Under the Mountain?" he asked evenly.
The words struck a nerve—Thorin's fists clenched and he rose to his feet.
"Hey—Thorin, take it easy," Gandalf quickly stepped in front of him.
"Young man… I can't read you," Gandalf said, eyes narrowing in curiosity.
Roland only smiled faintly. Looking Thorin dead in the eye, he said, "Blood of Durin, grandson of Thror, son of Thrain… tell me, can you still call yourself King Under the Mountain?"
Bang! Thorin slammed the table, ready to leap at him. Several dwarves grabbed his arms. His nephew Kili stepped forward. "Sir, are you here just to start trouble?" The other dwarves glared, though Gandalf was still studying Roland closely.
"Start trouble? You're not worth the trouble. I just don't want to see the bloodline of Durin end here." Roland knew the story's ending well enough—even if they won, the Durin line would still be doomed.
Thanks to the Lord of the Rings system, he quickly gauged the room—aside from Thorin being a berserker, the rest were squires or basic warriors. Against his own knights, they'd fold in a single cavalry charge.
In this world, warrior ranks went: Squire → Warrior → Berserker → Commander → Warlord → and finally, Overlord.
"Nonsense!"
"Utter rubbish!"
Shouts erupted around the room, but Gandalf's gaze only grew more intent.
"Enough! State your purpose!" Thorin roared, cutting off his companions.
"Well said. You truly are Durin's heir. I am Roland, Captain of the Holy Radiance Knight Order. I'm seeking land for my men to settle… which means, well—you see—I need gold." Roland's tone was calm, almost casual.
"What? A knight order?"
"He has an order?"
The dwarves were stunned. Gandalf's expression grew even more unreadable.
"Mr. Roland! Do you know what it takes to even be called a knight order?" Thorin asked gravely.
"Of course. Mine's the weakest kind—one hundred squire knights and a single knight-captain," Roland said with pride.
"…I see. So you're saying…" Thorin's voice softened. Shared interests could always make space for negotiation.
"I'll escort you to the Lonely Mountain with my order—fight alongside you all the way. In return, you pay me a commission. If we take casualties, you pay compensation. If we fail to reclaim Erebor… you owe me nothing." Roland's eyes gleamed with ambition.
"If you agree, I can summon my men right now," he added.
Thorin fell silent, thinking. Gandalf leaned in, murmuring, "Say yes. There are too many dangers ahead—having a knight order might be the only reason we make it alive."
After a moment, Thorin nodded. "Mr. Roland, I'll draft the contract immediately."
What followed was the longest contract Roland had ever seen—longer than the one Bilbo got for his burglar "job," an entire scroll's worth.
"To a successful expedition!" Roland signed with a flourish, tucked the contract away, and gave them all a nod before stepping out.
"Oh—tomorrow at dawn, I'll be waiting for you at the forest's edge!" his voice called back from the lane.