In the great halls under the Lonely Mountain lived a dragon named Smaug. Smaug was an old and temperamental beast with a particular eye for gold, diamonds, jewels, and other such shiny indicators of wealth and status. It was for that reason that long ago, he had claimed the mountain for himself and sealed the main entrances so that no thieves would be able to take even the slightest amount of his ill begotten gold. As it turned out, he had missed a hidden passage to the mountain the former dwarvan occupants had made, which led to him being visited by a curious hobbit named Bilbo Baggins.

It was Smaug who sensed the hobbit first. Although Smaug was an old dragon, he was also one of those strange beings in Middle Earth who had been gifted with immortality and great power to match his pride. It left his senses just as keen as they were when he had first reached adulthood, which let him easily hear the quiet shuffling Bilbo made while tiptoeing around the edges of the great pile of gold that Smaug slept on.

"What is this?" Smaug asked, looking around his hoarded gold for the intruder. "I hear footsteps, and those footsteps are too loud to be from rats or birds, even if they are still quite soft. I smell a strange smell, not of man nor of dwarf, but still one that is quite detestable. Why, it seems a loathsome thief has dared to try and steal from me!"

"Not a thief, sir!" Bilbo replied. "Why, I am only a weary traveler who has come to seek the great dragon Smaug, for I had heard of the legends describing him as having no equal in strength or cunning. Would the great creature I see before me happen to be the one the legends speak of?"

"Indeed I would be! Would you say those legends are accurate, thief?"

"Yes, they would be. I can truly say that I have never seen a dragon so magnificent and so awe inspiring." Bilbo neglected to mention that Smaug was also the only dragon he had ever seen. "But I will repeat that I am not a thief. I have no want nor use for dragon gold such as yours."

Smaug got up and began taking slow steps to the source of the voice. "So then, thief who is not a thief, you took it upon yourself to enter the most dangerous and most fortified castle in the land, laden with the greatest treasures, not to take any? It was just a sightseeing tour for you?"

"It was, it was! I fancy myself a tourist, you see, and I have seen many breathtaking places on the journey to this one. And I will say that this place is the most breathtaking of all! These great halls will remain in my mind forever. But, there is something about you and this place that doesn't seem quite right."

"Oh? Whatever could that be?" Smaug craned his neck looking up and down the halls of the mountain, yet was unable to spot the person who was speaking to him.

"Pardon me for wanting to give the great Smaug advice, but it seems to me that your great fortune provides you with very little value. You have all this gold, and yet you never spend any of it. What use is all this treasure if you never trade it in for things of use?"

"You ask me of uses for my gold?" Smaug laughed. "What use do I need for it? Is it not enough to merely own it? To know that I have wealth beyond measure? You are a fool to say such things."

"A fool I may be, but I can't help but notice that all this wealth may be going to waste. What good is this gold doing you if you never see fit to spend it? I see a golden cup over there, for instance. Do you ever drink from that cup? If not, how does it aid you?"

"It aids me by being of value! That is all it needs to do, and it does it quite nicely."

"I can't see what value it is bringing you right now, Sir. It seems to me that the cup is sitting idle, having no function or purpose in this lonely vault. Had it ever occurred to you that you could trade that cup in for something else that would appease you more?"

"What could appease me more then knowing that I own this cup and the filthy, stupid men outside do not?"

"Well, I could think of many things that cup could buy. Perhaps you could hire an artisan to clean this place up? Forgive me for saying so, but age has not been so kind to the columns and statues I see, and I don't take it that a dragon such as yourself would be so adept at repairing them."

Smaug snorted. It was true that the place had been decaying with the passage of time, although he had been trying to ignore it. And it was also true that he had no hope of restoring it to its former beauty with his large, clumsy feet that were prone to scratching things up. "Maybe so, but that would still be trading something away that could not be replaced. The gold I lost would find itself lost among men who would send it every which way, while my fixed halls would be worn down again and have me spending more gold to fix them. That would have my vault gone sooner rather than later, I think!"

"Well, if we are to speak in terms of wealth instead of just gold, then you would know that wealth is not a finite thing, Sir."

"Wealth? Not finite? You speak in foolish riddles again!"

"Not riddles, Sir. It is the basic way of the land. Those with wealth use it to procure great tracts of land in the knowledge that with time and effort invested into them, that they will produce more wealth then what was spent to obtain them. It does astound me, just a little bit, that you haven't done so yourself. This fortune in the mountain may seem large now, but I think that it would pale in comparison to what you might have if you were to buy all the land in this wild country and have it cleared so it could produce bountiful harvests. And great towns would spring up along the land and invite traders from far and wide, trading bounties across roads that were watched, and a part of each sale would find its way back to you as befits the Lord of the land. Does that sound promising to you?"

Smaug stopped and sat down. To be truthful, he did find the idea quite appealing. Although the gold he currently owned was splendid enough, it was more enticing to imagine a state where that gold was being fruitful and constantly multiplying. Even if much of it would be stored in the form of land and rights rather than something more tangible. Plus there was the opportunity to increase his power and influence, as the idea of being Lord of the East was much more renowned than merely being the King Under the Mountain.

"Tell me, stranger, what is your name?" Smaug asked.

"I have many names, but you can call me Mister Underhill," Bilbo said.

"Well, Underhill, I have found your words to be quite interesting. In return, I promise to spare your life, so long as you leave without taking a single piece of treasure from this place."

"Of course, Sir."

The next day was the most shocking one for the residents of Laketown since Smaug had first attacked them many years ago. Frantic warnings were shouted throughout the streets by manic townspeople, who insisted that the dragon was returning. And indeed he was, but not in the manner they expected. Instead of flying overhead breathing fire upon them, he was walking confidently and slowly up to the town, with a look of mischief in his eyes instead of hatred.

Smaug halted at the gates of the town, where a host of arches had risen to greet him.

"What is this?" Smaug asked. "Whatever happened to the idea of hospitality around here?"

"Hospitality?!" the leader of the men replied. "You would dare speak to us of hospitality in such jovial tones after having burned the town and sacking the kingdom of Dale? Begone!"

"I shall not begone today, good fellow. I have come here to offer a business proposition to the good people of Laketown, and it would be in all of your best interests to hear it."

"Business?! What business would you have to speak about?!"

"Listen well, and you shall understand. Firstly, I wish to purchase Laketown and the surrounding areas from whoever here happens to own it."

"You dare-"

"Secondly, I have plans to rebuild the whole of the East into a glorious, united nation under my own name. All the wild lands shall be cleared of vile beasts and be made safe for diligent farmers and craftsmen to build new farms and cities that shall prosper under my rule and pay tribute to me in return for their newfound providence. Routes to the North, the West, and the South shall be built, and newfound trade will be the wings that lift this new empire aloft into greatness."

"And what if we were to refuse you, then?"

"I would not advise that. For your sake."

The people of Laketown were uneasy with their new guest, but saw inviting Smaug in as a lesser evil than facing his open wrath. Whispers of a party of dwarves and questions of their involvement with the new scenario were abundant as the dragon went to meet the mayor of the town. The negotiations themselves turned out to be quick and unexciting, as the mayor quickly handed off the deed to the town in exchange for a small chest filled with golden cups and the promise that some of the money would serve as reparations for prior conflicts with the dragon. This, of course, turned out to be an outright fabrication.

His business for the day done, Smaug then returned to his home in the Lonely Mountain, whereupon he found that a company of dwarves was trying to steal some of his treasure. All of them were killed, save for one hobbit graced with a magic ring and a lot of luck.

Great changes soon followed that were in line with Smaug's grand vision. The first of these was the clearing of Mirkwood to make way for a great road that would run from the Iron Hills all the way to the Misty Mountains.

"After all, roads are the foundation on which trade is built, and what better source of commerce is there than trade?" Smaug explained to the company of men he had chosen for the task. "Those trees out there are of no use to anyone of consequence. They are naught but breeding grounds for the most foul and loathsome of creatures; that is, the ones that stand in the way of progress!"

The men first took up their axes and tried to hack away at the trees, but soon found themselves tiring and becoming ill.

"Ah, I see the magic of this place seeks to foil me. It is an old and powerful magic, but not nearly so old and powerful as me. Behold!"

From the dragon's mouth came great blasts of fire that spouted forth and ate away at the old, gnarled trees, which shriveled and collapsed into cinders, shrieking all the while.

"A shame that it had to come to this," Smaug said, "For it would be better to save the timber for other uses! Oh well. One cannot make an omelette without cracking some eggs, as the saying goes."

This destructive method of clearing the forest quickly drew the ire of the Wood Elves who called the forest home. They ran out, dressed for battle, only to stagger backwards as they saw who was attacking it.

"Smaug?!"

"-the mayor of Laketown, at your service," Smaug finished, attempting a mock bow.

"What... what do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm making good investments for the future. Creating the building blocks for a greater society. The forest was in the way, so it had to go."

"And what makes you think you have the authority over our land?"

"Capital!"

Although the king of the Wood Elves had no love for dragons, he did have a fierce love of gold, and gladly took Smaug's offering in exchange for selling off a chunk of Mirkwood more than large enough for Smaug's plans.

Before the Misty Mountains could be crossed, there were other matters to be settled. One of them was the encroachment of a large encampment of goblins and wargs, who sought repayment for wrongs done to them by a company of dwarves who had fled in the direction of the Lonely Mountain. Smaug, knowing the opinions of rest of Middle Earth on such creatures, parlayed with them by setting their camp ablaze and driving them far away from his new town. He would go on to cite this incident as reason enough to lawfully seize any territory and property occupied by goblins, orcs, or other such creatures. This would go on to include much of the Misty Mountains as well as the fabled mines of Moria, where a great siege would be held to drive every last one of them out of the old ruins. Dwarves would later return there to continue their old practice of mining precious metals from the mines, but at a not insignificant cost, which included a fifty percent tax on all gold produced, and double that rate for anything made of mithril.

It was a few years past the day when Smaug had sought a change of heart when the first great road was completed that linked Laketown and the Lonely Mountain to the western lands. As 'Underhill' had predicted, trade began to rise, with merchant caravans trekking across the landscape to service the old towns and new settlements that were now sprouting up to reclaim the wilderness the orcs had now abandoned. With all that new commerce flowing through the east, much of it returned to Smaug in the form of taxes and tariffs, which did a nice job of replenishing his depleted coffers. For some, that would be enough to be satisfied with, but Smaug had been consumed with the idea of wealth being a process instead of a measurable quantity. There was no saving him now.

"It's not enough," he said. "It's just not right. I can't stop here when my future is so bright!"

First his greedy eyes turned south, where some free kingdoms of men continued to inexplicably wither away, as they had been doing for the last few centuries. The land of Gondor offered little more than a fortress city to hold against invasions from places far away, but Rohan had something of value. Their horses were impeccably bred and unmatched in their speed and endurance.

"If there's one thing that everyone needs, it's horses!"

It wasn't so difficult to buy a proprietary license granting the exclusive rights for the buying and selling of those horses. It didn't matter if it cost an arm and a leg to buy them at first, if they could be sold for an arm and two legs somewhere else.

(Later, the prices would be driven down through an elaborate scheme where many men were shuffled over to Rohan solely for the purpose of breeding good horses, who would be fed by long lasting elven-style food tracked around the whole of Middle Earth in bulk.)

Then came the lands east of Smaug's domain. Half of Mordor was a burnt up wasteland with nothing of value, but the southern part of it held bountiful farmlands that were unfortunately tied up by whispering evil things. Fortunately, whispering evil things were allergic to dragons' fire, and other men were brought in to plant grapes in the bountiful volcanic soil so that it could be distilled into wine to be sent all over the world.

That was where Gondor began to have a use. It turned out that ships were much faster at carrying goods from place to place, and Gondor held several promising locations for ports that could allow for a greater volume of seafaring trade than ever before. The ailing ruler of the land was all too willing to sign away land rights for the building of those ports, and later on, his entire kingdom.

All this building necessitated the gathering of much wood, which meant that many trees would have to be chopped down. Mirkwood, whose magic had already began fading away, was ripe for the plucking, as great companies set out with axes and hacked away many acres of woodland. The giant spiders who once called that land home were forced to flee to parts unknown, while the elves settled for somewhat more lavish bribes.

It was in the middle of this great transformative process that Smaug was sought out by a wizard named Saruman.

"What is it, now?" Smaug asked his secretary, a man whose portliness and stupidity were unmatched in all of the land.

"You have a visitor, O Great Smaug."

"Tell them I'm busy."

"An important visitor, O Smaug the Great and Powerful. He says he is a wizard."

"A wizard, eh? Well, I have been looking for a way into the firework business. Let him in."

Saruman came in, looking as confident as a wizard could when in the presence of a dragon.

"What is your business here, wizard?"

"Manifold, Lord Smaug," Saruman said. "I have heard tales of your doings far and wide, and found them to be magnificent in both scope and intent. I feel, however, that your designs are lacking in one crucial area: invention. You have been spreading wealth far and wide through means already known, but there is a world of commerce that you haven't been pursuing. A world of innovation through the creation of new devices and new technologies, and through them, new opportunities. And I happen to have the ideas for many such devices in my mind."

"Interesting," Smaug said. "Tell me more."

Saruman's ideas manifested themselves in the form of steel and tar. Great and small contraptions with cogs and wheels and steam and slime that did all kinds of things that men alone could not. No man could make by hand what one factory could put out, and no man could ruin a stream like a factory could. Those who lived nearby such contraptions complained, but they were drowned out by the desire of those who did not and who wanted to buy their goods at lower prices.

This curiously resulted in a situation where iron and coal became the new minerals that were most precious, over the previous mainstays of gold and silver. Anything to keep the ever growing furnaces going, to keep making the things that everyone needed.

At some point, Smaug was visited by a shadowy figure who served as an emissary for the spectre that had been haunting the desolate parts of Mordor. Some called it 'The Necromancer', while others referred to it as Sauron. Smaug merely thought of it as a nuisance.

"Why not abandon your foolish course of altruism?" the emissary asked. "The wealth you so dearly seek exists everywhere in the world: go out there and take it! My master can assist you with this."

"But I have taken it, or am taking it," Smaug said. "You don't understand what wealth really is. Some of it is gold that can be held and stockpiled, but much of it is not. The land I hold has value, as do the people who work on it along with the fruits of their labor. Most of that is wealth I could not snatch directly away, but instead is something I shall be content with owning in a secondary sense, so that I shall be rewarded with expanding the value of what currently exists. You and your orc servants and your monsters would be content to see it all burned and ruined just out of spite. You are the ones who are unconcerned with wealth. Begone!"

"Fine, then. If you will not accede peacefully, know that when the Dark Lord of Mordor returns, it is you he will seek out first for his revenge."

"You speak of threats? Then know this. If your breeze of a master tries to fight me, then I shall respond by assembling an army so vast and powerful that it would make Isildur quake in terror, and I will drive you and your fellows away to the farthest reaches of the East. I say again: begone!"

So the emissary retreated back to the dark tower where his master resided, not willing to take the dragon's threat seriously when he really, really should have.

The time eventually came when war was inevitable and the forces of darkness once again sought to take over the world. On one side was a ring-less Sauron and his disgraced collection of orcs and monsters that had been sent fleeing across the land in years prior. On the other side were the forces of Men, commanded by Smaug and assembled as a mixture of volunteers, mercenaries, and many unhappy draftees from all over Middle Earth. In comparison to the army that had destroyed Sauron all those years before, it was certainly lacking in both stature and character, but it more than made up for it in volume and the quality of its equipment. Of particular note were their weapons, which included devices built by Saruman that could fire chunks of metal over great distances at incredibly high speeds.

Those devices did the most work when Smaug's army utterly decimated Sauron's forces and drove the Dark Lord to lands far away. To the dragon, however, this event was merely a footnote to something far more important: the construction of a trans-continental railroad.

"Now, be reasonable, Lord Elrond," Smaug said. "I think you understand the value that Rivendell could hold as a resort. The beauty of this place is captivating, yes, and that would attract tourists from all the world! And all that money could help touch this place up quite a bit."

"What would you know of beauty, dragon?" Elrond snarled. "Everywhere one looks across the places under your rule, there is naught but filth in the sky, in the water, and in the earth! You have done nothing but pollute and damage everything you have touched."

"Oh please. Stop pretending like any of you pointy eared rabbits really care about that," the dragon crooned. "You pretend to be so high and mighty, so deeply concerned for the fate of this land, but what have you ever really done about it? You've been content to sit in your ivory towers the whole time when orcs and devils were taking over the wilderness and spreading their pollution. Nor did you ever make any attempt to stop my own machinations. You have power, you have always had power, but you've never cared to use it for this place. You've always been content to sit back and watch it die, while you lounge around and write your rancid poetry and songs about how awful it is that things are just so much worse compared to the good old days. Well, I have news for you. This world most certainly isn't dying or wasting away. Far from it. It's becoming stronger and more powerful than ever before. It may be leaving you behind, but that's your fault for not being willing to accept or enact change."

Elrond looked hurt, but refused to back down to Smaug's words. "I refuse to listen to any more of your wicked words, dragon. Leave this place now."

"I wouldn't act so harsh, my dear friend. I have a proposition that you'd be most interested in learning about."

"Oh?"

"I know you want to leave. To get on a great big ship and sail far away from here. But I own all the ports on the west coast, and I think that an elf with your poor attitude has no place on such a ship. Unless, of course, you were to change your opinion on selling Rivendell; then I might reconsider my opinion on this matter."

Many said there was a certain magic to the land of Middle Earth, back in the olden days. They also said that magic felt diminished when when any one man could see all of it within their lifetime. And when many different places all looked rather similar, with the same style of buildings for the same kinds of towns selling the same kinds of things you could find anywhere else.

It was true that there were things about the old times that people didn't miss. The untamed lands had many dangers, and it seemed that there was a malevolent force that was predestined to eventually conquer the world and reduce it to ashes. Nowadays, you could drive out to the other side of the world and watch that same force mull about in a cage, and possibly throw rotten tomatoes at it if you were lucky.

The evils of the day were much more petty. It was the coughing that you got from breathing the air in the cities for too long, the anger you felt at your neighbors for being too loud when you were trying to work, and the irritation at having to see your tax money go to things you didn't want but your neighbors and estranged family members did.

Smaug looked with interest at one of the newest creations the wonders of technology had wrought. It was a device that could play a bunch of pictures so rapidly that they resembled a square shaped slice of reality that could be projected onto a screen. Smaug had never written anything in his life, being content to have others do that job for him, but having his likeness recorded directly and played back struck him as a beautiful method of communicating.

He resolved to use this to tell the story of how he had come to rule over Middle Earth, starting with a recreation of how he had met the strange spirit named Underhill all those years ago...