"Gandalf, trust me. Having just reclaimed our homeland from a dragon, how could we possibly be unprepared for this? This isn't the Blue Mountains. Rest assured, we will find a way to deal with what worries you. It is no reason to retreat now and abandon everything we have gained."
Thorin paid little heed to the Wizard's warning. He and his people had spent years preparing to reclaim their lost kingdom, and of course they had not forgotten the dragons that had once inflicted such terrible suffering on them.
To be precise, these were cold-drakes, which had neither wings nor the ability to breathe fire.
To that end, they had prepared some powerful weapons. Transporting them was difficult, however. Even dismantled into separate parts, they required considerable manpower and livestock to move. After all, the roads through the Grey Mountains had long since fallen into ruin.
Faced with Thorin's confidence, Allen could scarcely muster any more surprise. His Dwarf friend had already given him too many shocks today.
Allen had some ideas of his own about dealing with those dragons, which were practically living weapons of war. His approach would take far too long, however. Even with a general location, the search would take years.
Now Allen was rather curious about what Thorin had prepared.
"Then, my esteemed Lord Thorin, what countermeasures have you prepared? Would you satisfy an old man's curiosity?"
Before Allen could ask, Gandalf's patience ran out. Most of the time, there was little he could do about the Dwarves' stubbornness.
"Don't tell me it's still the Wind Crossbow and the Black Arrow. Past experience has shown that neither weapon is particularly effective. Even a direct hit struggles to damage the enemy's hard scales."
The Wizard, who so often enjoyed speaking in riddles, preferred clear answers to