(A/N- start)

Italics can mean thoughts, "Or speech in an unfamiliar language." Did y'all understand that?

I don't own The Hobbit or Prototype. If I did, I would be so damn rich...

Enjoy!

(A/N- end)

Ch 3 - The Lake

This forest was a nightmare to navigate. The trees were almost shaped with the deliberate intention of being confusing, and every path, save the ones in the trees made by spiders, was overgrown. There was even a slight hallucinogen in the air, although it didn't effect him.

John just thickened his fur to razor-sharp blades, and went straight in one direction- towards the nearest large body of water. He had seen a town built on top of it- maybe he could find a phone.

"Although," he muttered to himself as he wove through the forest, "these planets usually were very keen on staying in character... I'll watch for a day before entering, so I can wear the right costume."

The first thing John noticed, in his day of observation, was that inhabitants of this town-on-the-lake were filthy. Diseases that didn't even exist ANYWHERE were all over the place, and the stench of unwashed human in absolutely massive amounts was... Well, if he had a stomach, there would be a pool of vomit spreading out from his hiding place between the rocks.

Why did they choose to live like this? Their life-expectancies must be less than fifty years, and death would come at the hands of horrible illnesses- probably contagious ones too.

John eased out of his hiding place even as he chuckled at the thought of any BlackLight strain calling another infection 'horrible'. Seriously though, these people were disgusting plague pits, and John wouldn't touch them if there was better biomass around to consume. The memories would be filled with illness and pain for years. He hated that.

Put him right off his food, as it were. But he did need information... May as well collect it from one of the locals. Specifically, why did they insist on remaining so technologically stunted of their own volition? Even the Amish towns allowed for advanced medical technology to be kept in their villages.

Though... He would need a bit more mass for his devious plan.

Bard the Bargeman hated his job. He really, really hated it. All he was allowed to do was collect barrels that were dumped into the river from the elven-king's fortress, and deliver them to another man in town who would fill them with various mixes. Then a third man would take the barrels out of town on a cart, and place them on the shore- where an elven wagon would collect them to be drained and reused once more, leaving a sack of gold in their wake.

He saw the sack once- saw in it even! But he, and the others in the chain would never have more than half that gold altogether. Most of it went to the Master, as did the gold or jewels of any business on the lake.

As he loaded barrel after barrel onto his barge, he had nothing but time to think. To think about ways where he may try to wrest some control over his life, to give a better life for his children. Perhaps just find a source of a little more coin to try and purchase healing herbs for his wife- her cough had been getting worse these last few days.

"Excuse me?" The words were obviously words, but not any language he had ever heard.

Bard spun around, shortbow coming up and around with a smooth and practiced movement to aim at the figure that spoke- and froze.

The first thought that hit him, and the one that hit like the hammer on an anvil, was that of eyes. Too many eyes, watching, each blinking in its own time and opening with a different color and pupil.

From there he was able to barely see the shape in the torchlight, but since every pupil seemed to glow with an inner light, he was able to make out a smooth, predatory shape that prowled just outside the light of his torch. Like a wolf, he guessed, but bigger and longer, with a curiously short (but wide) muzzle and very, very large teeth- not long, but wide, they glinted in the light.

The glow of the eyes upon its head were bright, but less bright than the patches along the bottom of its cheek bones that lit up with a brightness that dazzled his senses- and suddenly the thing was in the light.

It was long- longer than his boat, and covered in dark fur. Of the eyes, there was no sign, save the two on its head- and under the light it looked like a wolf with an extra two front paws and elongated body.

Almost like a wolf- the horns and figure sitting upon them put him off the idea though. The creature's rider was garbed in black, almost insect-like armor, and, even with a helmet of obsidian, it was obviously female.

Bard absently wondered how the figure could see through the dark material, and aimed down slightly at the creature's head.

It huffed and rolled its eyes at him.

"Do not come any closer!" Bard absolutely did not stammer, in the face of this unusual entity, even though every instinct was telling him to run- to hide and hope those eyes never appear again, for that would mean it found you.

The body slithered silently back out of the light, save for the head and it's occupant- who looked rather bored. "Very well." She said, and leaned down on the crown of horns. "In any case, I am curious about the town upon the lake. Are you willing to answer a few questions?"

Her voice was not inhuman- but Bard took no chances. "I will not speak on friendly terms with those who consort with demons or monsters!"

"Monsters? Demons?" The woman sighed. "There is no chance that this is an Asari world, is it?"

He did not lower his aim. "Neither will I speak with someone whose face I cannot see!"

"You are speaking with me now. Dumbass."

Bard could hear the annoyance in her voice clearly- did the helmet have hidden slits? It should be muffling her voice. He did not, however, respond to the outburst.

"No asari? Of course I managed to land on a probabilistically impossible planet with near-earth-life, transplanted trees, and humans on it. May as well fuck up this planet while I'm here." The woman muttered in her strange language, before pushing something on the underside of her helmet, which slid apart smoothly- like clockwork.

"Well?" The blue-purple, hairless woman smirked at his awestruck expression. "Will you speak with me now, or do I need to find someone else of more cunning wit to answer some questions?"

Bard lowered the bow, but kept it strung and the arrow notched. He did relax his arm though. At this range he would not miss, even if she left the firelight. "I will answer your questions- but you must do the same for my own."

She nodded, still smiling. "Agreed! As a sign of good faith, you may ask the second question."

"What was the first?" Bard asked, before he winced at his foolishness.

"I asked you if you would answer my questions- and yes, you just asked your first question just then." She rolled her eyes as Bard's arrow twitched. "But you may ask another... From my experience," she added in a secretive tone, "people tend to forget to think before they speak."

Bard glared. "Very well, what is your purpose here?"

"To find a way to leave. My turn: Where is this world called?"

Bard blinked. "I do not understand your question."

"This world!" She said, exasperated. "All of its lakes and rivers and oceans and mountains and continents! What do you call it?"

"The elves-" Bard smirked as he watched both her and the creature she was riding twitch. "-call it Arda." Well, he smirked until he saw eyes open in the darkness, staring at him. "Can you close the eyes of your mount? They are unsettling."

"No. His eyes are his own. You mentioned elves- describe them." Her face had gone oddly blank.

"Shorter than most men, but stronger, more agile, and more elegant." Bard was not all too fond of elves. "They live a long time, and are... Aloof to those who are of the same kind as their own. Now, who and what are you? I have never seen your like before- nor that of your steed."

"That was not a question, boatman." She tapped on the horn as she spoke, the tick of not metal on horn but bone on bone. It was an unsettling sound. "If there are elves, how... No. I will not ask that." She glared at the forest. "Damn spiders were useless- senses were too oblique to make a coherent picture of who was hunting them. Maybe I should just eat this human for the information... But he smells so bad!" Then she perked up. "Tell me- as it is my turn, what do you call your own... Kind?"

"I am of the race of Man." Bard was confused, mainly at her question, but was more annoyed that she got two in a row. He would not be the lesser in this conversation. "Now, answer my question!"

"You may call me... Eris." She smirked, as if enjoying a private joke. "I am an Asari, and this-" she patted the creature, which thrummed like an earthquake, "- is... Well, my mount. I don't really have a name for him." She kept petting her mount as she watched him- and Bard felt distinctly uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because one of her eyes was a vivid, emerald green while the other was a deep, almost glowing purple. Or because she didn't seem to blink much, and his eyes were beginning to water in sympathy. Either way, Bard was... Unsettled.

"If you want, you could name him." She rubbed an ear- one of four, Bard noticed, each twitching on its own. "But perhaps not now. My question next: why are you so... Primitive. Well, there isn't a word for it in this language. Why do you use such old knowledge?"

"Lady Eris, that question doesn't make any sense."

She rolled her eyes. "Very well... How about this: what is the most complicated discipline that you know of? The one most complex?"

"I... Do not know. Ask a different question."

She frowned- not much, but a little, before gesturing at his bow. "How long have your people known how to make bows and arrows?"

"Many thousands of years. Three or four thousands of years, I would guess." He was perplexed. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know how advanced... Damn, no word for that either. How creative? No. How intelligent this... World is." Eris was frowning. "What is the most complicated piece of workmanship by any living hands that is not natural?"

"The dwarven Wind-Lance." Bard surmised, still trying to puzzle out her last answer.

"Ohh! I thought of a name! Oculus!" Eris rubbed a spot between the horns that Bard doubted the large paws could reach. "Do you like that name?" She cooed, even as Bard heard the tail thump against the ground, and watched the two-foot-long, glowing tongue come out as the thing panted. "I guess you do. Good boy!"

The newly-named Oculus made another earthquake noise (one that was felt more than heard), before dipping it's large head to rest on the ground. It's tongue still lolling out in the perfect expression of a happy pet, eyes closing one after the other as the tail (longer than Bard was tall), thumped on the ground repeatedly.

Bard's mouth dropped open at seeing the massive, and unnerving creature acting like one of the dogs that the master kept guarding his house. "What... Is that?"

"Oculus is a Silence- similar to a wolf, I think." She kept rubbing different spots on the beast's head as she talked. Bard thought she looked ridiculous sitting on it's head while scratching different points along it. "Now, can you take me to see this 'Wind-Lance'?"

Bard looked at the lolling creature, then at the inhuman rider. "... Not unless you are willing to pay a great deal."

"What sort of currency do you use?" Before he answered, she shook her head. "Wait- before you answer that- would you take payment in services rendered?"

"What sort of services?" Bard asked, then quickly amended. "And I am married, so if that is what you are suggesting-"

"No." She deadpanned. "I was referring to helping you get over the massive number of chronic diseases you carry. Several parasites have infested you, and I can see at least three diseases that will only make your life harder before long."

"You are a healer?" Bard relaxed now, placing the arrow back into the sheath and both bow and arrows into the boat.

"Due to your question without letting me ask, I would say we are becoming more friendly." She relented when Bard nicked up the bow again. "Hold your fire! Damn this language is cumbersome. But yes, I am skilled with making medicines, diagnosing illnesses, producing cures, and on rare occasions sculpting flesh."

That turned the man green. "Sculpting flesh? What does that entail?"

"Are we trading questions again?" She smirked. "No matter. It entails the manipulation of life on the smallest level, so that it may spread and change into something else given time and food to do so. Will you show me this 'Wind Lance'?"

Bard rolled a barrel onto his barge, and considered the request. His wife was sick, and this stranger with a very odd pet wanted to see the Wind-Lance... Oh, and the stranger happened to be a Healer, without coin.

He turned back to her, and noticed that she had gotten off her mount. Not only that, the Silence was laying on its back, legs in the air, as she rubbed its belly, tail still thumping, but no other noises were coming from it. "Your pet is very... Quiet. Apt, for a creature called a Silence." He said absently.

The green-violet eyes that focused on him made him shudder as she stopped petting the creature to focus on him. "Yes." She said softly, scratching at somewhere under the fur. "He is. Your answer, if you would be so kind."

"Very well." Bard began to roll the last barrel into his barge. Once it was seated, he pointed towards the western bank where Laketown was situated. The bridge to Laketown is on that side. I will meet you at dawn on the entrance to the bridge- and I will pay for your entry-" she was looking hopeful. "-IF and only if you can help someone that I provide."

"Done!" Eris sashayed up to him, Oculus righting himself to watch his rider close with Bard. "How do you seal these agreements between men?"

"Usually with a handshake-" Bard flinched as her hand was suddenly extended. "... I will see you at dawn."

She grinned. "Agreed... You know, I don't know your name."

He gripped her armored gauntlet. "My name is Bard."

"Pleased to meet you Bard."

They shook on it.

End Ch 3

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