Lunar Script

Gandalf and King Elrond walked over together, chatting and laughing.

Morgan stood up and greeted them. No longer in the mood to explore Rivendell, he returned to his seat by the bonfire.

Taking part in the main storyline was the best way to raise his Time Traveler System's World Exploration Progress.

He'd proved that to himself several times already, and Morgan wasn't about to miss an occasion like this.

Besides, he'd never seen Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield argue.

They'd had a row at their makeshift camp that morning, but Morgan had been training and missed it.

"Kili, pass me a skewer."

Back by the fire, Morgan held out his hand to Kili for a skewer of grilled sausages.

"Morgan, weren't you going to admire Rivendell by night? I'll go with you," the young dwarf Fili called from nearby.

Morgan shook his head and held up the sausage. "I think this smells better."

"Haha, Morgan, you've got that right."

Gloin burst out laughing. He grabbed several skewers of sausages that Bofur had just prepared and handed them to Morgan. "One skewer isn't enough. Here, take these."

"Taking my sausages again? Can't you make your own?"

"Haha, Bofur, don't be so stingy. There's plenty more here. Just make some more."

"Here, I'll treat you to a roasted potato."

"Damn it, those were the ones I'd just made!"

"Haha."

The dwarves around the bonfire laughed and joked.

Nearby, Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield were discussing something.

As Morgan grilled his sausages and bantered with the dwarves around him, he glanced up now and then at the two leaders of the Company in conversation.

Balin, the white-bearded dwarf beside him, seemed to realize that Gandalf had brought King Elrond to see Thorin for a reason. He was watching the two of them intently.

Noticing Balin's stare, Morgan picked up the nearby fruit wine and offered it to him.

Balin came to his senses, realizing he'd been acting oddly. He smiled at Morgan, picked up his cup, clinked it against Morgan's, and downed the wine.

"Is something worrying you, Balin?"

Seeing Balin hesitate, Morgan glanced at Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield, who were talking seriously in the distance, then asked with a smile.

"Morgan, what do you think the two of them are discussing?"

Balin didn't answer directly. He picked up the bottle, poured himself another cup, and asked Morgan in return.

"What they're talking about—you must know better than I do, don't you?"

Morgan smiled and turned the question back on him.

"They already argued once this morning."

Balin shook his head, raised his cup to Morgan, and downed it again.

"But problems have to be dealt with."

Morgan spoke softly. He finished his drink and wiped his mouth before continuing, "I think Gandalf said something very true today."

"What was that?" Balin asked.

"If we want to succeed, we need to use a little strategy."

"Of course, you have your own ideas."

"Whatever you decide in the end, I'll support you."

Morgan smiled and filled his cup again.

The fruit wine in Rivendell tasted far sweeter than it did of alcohol.

With his current constitution, Morgan felt he could keep drinking like this forever without ever getting drunk.

"Maybe you and Gandalf are both right, but..."

Balin shook his head with a smile.

"Don't worry about what I think, Balin. I know too little."

"Like I said, whatever you decide, I'll support you."

"Come on, cheers."

Morgan cut Balin off, filled his cup again, and raised it with a smile.

"Whatever happens, I still want to thank you, Morgan. You're an outstanding warrior."

"I'm a bounty hunter."

"Haha, same thing. Come on, cheers."

"Cheers!"

Morgan and Balin were having a lively conversation by the fire.

Not far away, Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield were getting into a heated argument.

"Please, Thorin, show me the map," Gandalf said.

"Our affairs are none of the Elves' concern!" Thorin Oakenshield replied.

Gandalf sighed in exasperation. "For goodness' sake, Thorin, show the map to King Elrond!"

Thorin Oakenshield remained unmoved. "It's the inheritance of me and my people. It's my duty to protect it, including our secrets."

Gandalf took a deep breath, barely holding back his anger. His beard trembled. "Don't make me suffer through your stubbornness any longer!"

"Your pride will be your downfall one day!"

"Do you realize you're standing before one of the few people in all Middle-earth who can read that map?"

"Set aside your pride and let King Elrond see it!"

Gandalf's chest heaved. Fighting down his anger, he looked at Thorin Oakenshield and spoke in a low voice.

As Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield's argument grew more heated, the dwarves gathered around the bonfire quickly fell silent.

Everyone there looked toward the two arguing men. No one dared say a word.

King Elrond stood quietly to one side.

Listening to his old friend argue with Thorin Oakenshield, his patience was wearing thin.

He was interested in the map Gandalf had mentioned, but he was helping mainly because Gandalf had asked him to.

Otherwise, no matter how open-minded or generous he was, he would still have held a grudge against Thorin Oakenshield.

When Gandalf finished speaking, neither of them said anything for a moment. Silence fell over the gathering.

After a long pause, Thorin Oakenshield finally moved. He reached into his tunic and pulled out the pale yellow parchment map.

"Thorin, don't give it to him."

Seeing that Gandalf had persuaded Thorin Oakenshield, white-bearded Balin hurried forward and tried to stop him.

Durin's Folk and the Elves had a long history of grievances. The entire company of dwarves disliked Elves, and Balin was no exception. He'd even witnessed the betrayal of their Elven allies firsthand, sixty years earlier, when the dragon had invaded the Lonely Mountain.

Thorin Oakenshield pushed Balin aside and walked straight toward King Elrond, map in hand.

As the king of Durin's Folk, he was proud and stubborn. His hatred of Orcs and hostility toward the Elves who had betrayed their allies ran deeper than those of any other dwarf.

But as their king, he never forgot his mission: to restore the Kingdom Under the Mountain, Erebor, and revive Durin's Folk.

For the sake of their people, any dwarf could refuse to bow their head to the Elves who had betrayed them and beg for their help.

But he couldn't!

For the sake of his people, because he was the king of Durin's Folk.

The weight of his responsibility was immense.

King Elrond took the pale yellow parchment map Thorin Oakenshield handed him and unrolled it. He recognized it at once. "Erebor."

"Are you very interested in this map?" Thorin Oakenshield asked King Elrond, his expression less than welcoming.

"It's mainly for scholarly research. You know, ancient artifacts like this often contain secret messages."

Seeing that Thorin Oakenshield was about to say something, Gandalf hurriedly explained and gave him a reassuring look.

"I remember you can read Ancient Dwarvish, can't you?" Gandalf asked King Elrond, who was examining the map.

King Elrond didn't reply. He simply studied the ancient map in his hands.

Gandalf had told him earlier that the map concealed a secret.

So he raised it toward the full moon on the horizon and examined it closely.

Soon, King Elrond spotted something. He slowly uttered a few words.

Gandalf's face lit up. "Moon Runes?"

"Yes."

"To read the Moon Runes, we need moonlight from a moon with the same shape, during the same season as when they were written."

King Elrond looked up at everyone and explained.

"Can you read them?" Thorin Oakenshield asked, struggling to contain his excitement.

"Of course."

King Elrond smiled and turned toward the open-air viewing platform in the distance.

A big thank-you to the reader "Green Lotus Dao Song" for another 2,000 in donations. I'm truly grateful~~~