Hearing the name Glóin, Aedric was surprised. In his mind, there was also a dwarf named Glóin in the Company of Thorin, and he was the father of Gimli, a member of the Fellowship of the Ring.
Was this the same dwarf?
Looking at the dwarf walking closer, Aedric could not help but examine him again. Classic and rugged dwarven features. Square face, wide jaw, hard lines, eyes gleaming like burning coals, thick beard carefully braided into several thin plaits.
Deep brown in color. When they first met, due to lighting issues, Aedric had mistaken his beard for red. Now he could see clearly.
He wore silver-gray upper garments that appeared bright and conspicuous in sunlight, with thick leather boots and linen trousers below, plus a white silver necklace set with diamonds around his neck.
From far away, his hearty voice had already rung out.
"Morgan, when will your family inn actually reopen? You do not know—when I came from Willowdale, I had to stay overnight in Deepshire first, could not travel much longer, then had to stay here another day before going to Rush Island; otherwise, I would have had to sleep outdoors. This back and forth delays at least two days!"
"The inn won't be reopening." Morgan spread both hands, then pointed behind him: "In the future, I will follow my captain as an adventurer."
Glóin looked up, only then discovering a human sitting up on the cart. "What is this situation?"
The dwarf recognized Aedric, his expression somewhat surprised. That night, the other party's aura in the inn had been as sharp and pressing as the sword in his hands. How was he lying down now?
"We went hunting in the forest, carelessly got slightly injured." Aedric waved at Glóin, explaining: "We also encountered a group of orcs that came from somewhere unknown—fought a battle."
"I see." Glóin nodded, indicating he understood.
He muttered quietly: "Should I tell Thorin when I return? Then assemble a goat cavalry unit to clean up this area? Might affect autumn business."
His caravan, after departing from the Blue Mountains, would travel the entire Shire along the East Road. After entering the Shire, starting from Michel Delving, they would turn into small roads, visiting Tookland, Woody End, Stock, then Willowdale.
This was a complete route. Then return to Michel Delving, placing exchanged grain and supplies in warehouses. After all, these things were heavy and took up space—they could not carry them continuously. Stored in warehouses, other dwarves would promptly bring grain back to the mountains.
Then the caravan would continue east along the road, passing Frogmorton, Whitfurrows, Brandywine Bridge, staying in Buckland for a while before ending at Bree.
Twice yearly—late summer and deep autumn. Mainly using clan-forged products to exchange for grain, cloth, pipe-weed, medicines, and other daily necessities.
Though dwarves could also produce some things like vegetables, overall quantities were limited. Moreover, dwarves preferred forging and construction. Making them farm was indeed rather difficult, so most relied on trade, then hiring some humans to supplement daily needs.
Late summer and deep autumn were harvest seasons for some crops. If orcs ravaged the southern Shire, at least one-third of routes would become unnecessary.
"Glóin." Morgan did not know what the other was thinking and just asked strangely: "How come you are conducting business? Where is Bofur?"
"Him?" Glóin drew out his pipe: "Had some matters and could not come. I made a trip here two months ago, familiar with recent conditions, so I just ran this trip myself."
"Oh, like that." Not to mention their reminiscing.
Aedric straightened up, looking at the dwarf's goods—basically simple tools, pots, pans, bowls and similar small items. Wondering in his heart, why did the dwarf caravan not sell weapons and armor? Did they think Hobbits had no use for them?
"Luna, help me." Aedric reached out but received no response. Turning to check, the female elf who had been standing beside him had somehow disappeared.
It seems she was unwilling to appear before so many people. Right, elves' nature was roughly like this. Well, still had to rely on himself.
Aedric gritted his teeth, jumped down from the cart, and limped toward the crowd. At this moment, Bilbo, who was looking around, saw this scene and hurriedly ran over to support Aedric.
"Thank you."
"Do not mention it. Next time you go out to play, remember to bring me too."
Regarding Aedric and Morgan's secretive forest trip while leaving him in the village, kind Mr. Baggins still minded somewhat. After all, this also could not count as adventure. If it were adventure, he would not much want to go.
"Ha." Aedric laughed: "Definitely next time."
He did not plan to let the current Bilbo participate in such dangerous matters. The two squeezed into the crowd. Villagers selecting goods naturally recognized them, greeting and making way.
After approaching, Aedric immediately saw beardless Gimli and casually asked: "Boy, do you have weapons and armor to sell?"
Having earned money, naturally he should buy two suitable sets of armor for replacement, plus get some secondary weapons. Mithreleth was naturally very useful. And because he had killed enough orcs, some special function seemed to have appeared. Like making enemies fear. He had sensed it.
But after so many fights, Aedric always felt he seemed to lack some ranged means. The Black Thorn crossbow's appearance was too evil—taking it out might get him mistaken for a human fallen to darkness.
Bows, Aedric could not use and did not plan to practice anew. So he wanted to get a bag of javelins to try.
"Boy?" Gimli rolled his eyes, sizing up this tall human before him.
Clothes were tattered, full of tears and worn patches, like he had fought someone. And lost. The metal circlet on his head had some substance—it looked neither like steel nor silver, could not guess the material.
A pale golden gem was set upon it. Unknown if it was illusion, Gimli felt that gem was like a whirlpool on a lake surface, seeming to want to absorb all surrounding radiance. How could such a gem exist?
Gimli shook his head, saying in muffled tones: "Who are you calling boy?"
"Call..." Aedric spoke halfway before realizing he had fallen for this extremely old trick, forcibly swallowing the latter half "ing you" and changing to praise: "Quite clever."
"Heh, heh, heh..." Gimli laughed: "I was born in 2879, already sixty years old this year. By your human calculations, older than your grandfather—you dare call me boy?"
Aedric retorted: "You do not even have beard on your face—what else should I call you besides boy?"
A sixty-year-old dwarf was actually not much different from a twenty-year-old human. Though already adult, still far from beard-growing time. During the Quest for Erebor, Fíli was older at over eighty with beard just grown not long before. While Kíli at seventy-odd had beard just beginning to sprout.
Thinking of these, Aedric also laughed, finding this dwarf quite interesting. He extended his right hand: "Aedric, pleased to meet you."
"Call me Gimli." Having spoken, looking at the extended right hand, the dwarf showed confusion, then realizing this might be some human courtesy, he also extended his right hand, following the example: "If you find it troublesome, calling me Legolas also works."
"Legolas?!" Aedric paused, then grasped the other's rough hand full of sweat and oil stains.
(TL NOTE: This Legolas is not a typo. The Author did this...)
Now he could be certain—this father-son pair were indeed members of the Company of Thorin and Fellowship of the Ring. At this time, one was temporarily leading a caravan while the other had just come of age. Really coincidental!
"Just now you said you wanted to buy weapons and armor?" Gimli quietly withdrew his right hand.
He felt this human courtesy too strange, somewhat effeminate, more suitable for those tall, slender elves, not suitable for dwarves.
"Right." Aedric nodded: "Do you have any?"
"No!" Gimli answered straightforwardly, his tone carrying mockery: "Only dwarves stupid to the extreme would sell weapons and armor to Hobbits. In recent decades, the most lethal thing they bought was hay forks."
"Hey." Bilbo was somewhat displeased: "My mother treasured a very sharp knife that cut meat like cutting butter—forged by you dwarves."
"So what? Very remarkable?" Gimli dismissively retorted: "Real men should wield axes, fiercely splitting those orcs' heads."
Like he had done two days ago. Gimli touched the axe standing beside him, nostalgically clicking his tongue. He liked that fighting feeling. Exhilarating!
"Stinking boy, what nonsense are you telling customers again?" Glóin, who had finished chatting with Morgan, returned, lightly tapping his son's head with his pipe as pretend punishment, then asked with face full of smiles: "I heard someone wants to buy armor and weapons? How much?"
A pair of pitch-black eyes were simply glowing. If this order were brought back, countless brothers would fight over it!
Dwarven craftsmanship in forging armor and weapons was second to none throughout the North. Not only did they think so themselves—actually humans and elves thought so too.
However, good was good, but orders were few. Should say very, very few.
Elves living in Lindon forged their own weapons and armor. The Noldor were not inferior to dwarves in forging; they even knew some techniques dwarves did not, usually at most buying arrowheads, nails, steel bars, iron plates, metal ingots.
But such simple items, any dwarf apprentice could handle. No need for great craftsmanship.
Shire Hobbits, buying one weapon, wished it could last several generations. Armor was even more unnecessary—almost unsellable.
Occasionally, humans from Bree would give orders, but this took very long to encounter once. Humans had their own smiths. Ordinary armor and weapons could be self-made, just of far inferior quality to dwarven work, but could not beat cheapness.
So Blue Mountains dwarf smiths spent days either hammering pots and pans or crafting various farming tools and implements. Compared to armor and weapons, these things required little work time, so prices were similar. But dwarven goods were more durable, thus more popular.
Money was made. But what they most wanted to craft were weapons and armor!
"Two sets." Aedric thought, then added: "One light armor, one heavy armor."
Mainly for different environments. If needing to charge into enemy masses with Mithreleth, certainly having heavy armor was safer and more reassuring. If like the other night, having fitted light armor would suffice.
"Only two sets?" Glóin looked disappointed, then rallied his spirits: "Two sets it is. What kind do you want—mail or plate? Full body or half body?"
"You dwarves are the masters in this area." Aedric smiled, pushing the question back: "My usual weapon is a longsword; I prefer frontal combat. See what suits and give recommendations."
"Good eye." Glóin laughed heartily, one hand drawing on his pipe, one hand stroking his beard.
After long consideration, he said: "Like this—for heavy armor, I naturally recommend plate. Helmet, arms, shoulders, chest, abdomen, back, plus legs—all protected by steel-forged plates with riveted craftsmanship. Guaranteed sturdy and reliable."
"Line the armor interior with thin cowhide—after donning it will absolutely be more comfortable and effortless than human-made ones."
Speaking of armor, the dwarf's words were truly endless.
"Besides this, we have special techniques to forge very soft metal mesh, using it to make gloves and leg guards that can even block arrows. If you like, we can also engrave various patterns and emblems on the armor. Anything is possible—dwarves absolutely have this craftsmanship."
Aedric swallowed, asking: "How much would this cost?"
"Armor business has not been good recently." Glóin thought: "For the complete set, I will give you twenty percent off—sixty-four gold coins."
"Hiss!" Aedric drew a sharp breath.
In Bree, one gold coin equaled four silver coins, also equaling one pony. Was he wearing sixty ponies on his body? Highway robbery!
"What if I do not want engraving?" Aedric tried to lower the price somewhat.
"Like simplicity? Also a good choice. True warriors should not believe in flashy nonsense." Glóin nodded approvingly: "Then ten gold coins cheaper, but other aspects cannot be reduced! We dwarves never craft inferior goods."
Do I have enough money? Aedric calculated silently.
The two hundred silver coins earned from Barrow-downs, sixty lent out, two more spent during two months of convalescence. Visiting neighbors, could not go empty-handed carrying just a head.
Still had one hundred thirty-eight silver coins, thirty-six gold coins. This expedition's harvest was thirty-two gold coins and ten silver coins. Seemed enough, with room to spare!
Then what was there to hesitate about?
"I will buy it." Aedric waved grandly, saying readily: "First give me a set of plate armor!"
Glóin's eyes brightened as he lightly kicked his son: "Quick, get my measuring tools!"
"Right, no engraving!" Aedric hastily added.
"No problem!" Glóin answered with a smile.