On the shores of a large lake bordered on the east by an expanse of hills, a young man with dark hair and grey eyes lay by a feeble driftwood campfire. The young man's appearance was indistinguishable under a thick layer of mud and blood, having just been crushed by his old horse as it slipped down the muddy hillside.
Berwyn was his name, and the body of the old horse lay not far from the fire.
On the surface it seemed that Berwyn had narrowly escaped death but in truth the original Berwyn did die. The current soul inhabiting his body had come from earth after similarly slipping down a cliff while hiking.
'New' Berwyn lay beside the campfire, completely exhausted. Every breath hurt, very likely due to broken ribs.
"System" Berwyn recited in his heart, hoping for some healing items. If the system was stingy, this body might become cold right after reviving.
[Berwyn, age 24]
[Race: Human (Northman)]
[STR:6; CON:5; DEX:5; SPR:4]
[Skills: none]
[Special items: none]
[Traits: Cold resistance]
[Starting gift available]
"Open the gift." Wheezed Berwyn, feeling his legs and arms were going numb. Perhaps the system could sense his urgency because the gift only had a short introduction.
[Welcome to Middle Earth!]
[Reward: Numenorean bloodline (original), accuracy (I), health restoration (full), interactive map]
[Bind rewards?]
"Bind."
Warmth spread from Berwyn's chest to his extremities, washing away the pain. There were distinct cracking sounds from inside Berwyn's chest and his left leg, bones knitting together with the power of the system.
An hour later, a cleaned up Berwyn sat shirtless by a much larger bonfire, keeping an eye on the roasting catfish. His body had undergone significant changes after receiving the system gift, the most obvious was his appearance.
The original Berwyn was a hunter who came down from the north after his village was decimated by trolls. He had long dark hair, a thick beard, tanned skin and a broad chest. After binding the Numenorean bloodline, his beard fell off, his tan faded, and he grew a full five inches in height.
His originally rugged face was now extremely refined and delicate, his skin became pale and smooth, his eyes large and cat-like in shape. If it weren't for the fact that his ears were still round he might have thought the system accidentally turned him into an elf.
Even his hands, once rough and scarred, had become thin and slender. In a moment of fear, Berwyn checked his pants (thankfully 'that part' remained largely the same), as he feared even his gender had been changed. Despite his much thinner frame, his strength actually increased significantly, a full five points were added to all stats according to the system.
[Berwyn, age 24]
[Race: Human (Numenorean)]
[STR:11; CON:10; DEX:10; SPR:9]
[Skills: accuracy (I)]
[Special items: none]
[Traits: longevity]
Having originally been a hunter, Berwyn estimated that an average human man had around 5 points of strength. With his current strength he might be among the strongest humans, save for a certain ranger who had both Elven and Numenorean blood.
After washing up in the lake, Berwyn recovered his belongings and buried the old horse with some of the large stones that littered the hill-top. The original Berwyn had been hunting in the mountains when the trolls attacked his village, and when he returned the terrible two headed Ettens had taken over the ruins.
The north was already sparsely inhabited and with the destruction of the village, Berwyn had no place to go but south to find other humans. With no places to stop and resupply, he could only rely on the supplies originally meant for a short hunting trip.
There were times that he had thought about eating his own horse, but the old and loyal mare had followed him for many years. By sparing the mare, the original Berwyn ironically ended up killing himself.
His current supplies consisted of: a few clothes, some salt, three silver coins, a saddle and reins, a rusty kettle, an old iron sword and a sturdy hunting spear. With his strong survival skills, the original Berwyn might have actually made it to a human settlement if he hadn't been crushed by a horse.
Berwyn opened the old leather map he brought from the north and tried to estimate his position. Based on his knowledge from his past life as a tolkien nerd, he should be somewhere north of the Shire. Naturally he was looking for a certain hobbit and not just because he was a fan of Tolkien.
His system is named the 'Plot Check-In System', its functions involved checking in at events and locations relevant to the plot of this world. By heading to the shire he could definitely come across one of the many plot-relevant hobbits.
"The Shire…"
The biggest hurdle was how he could integrate himself into the main storyline. The system didn't indicate whether this was the plot of The Hobbit, of the main trilogy. If it was the War of the Ring, Berwyn's current strength was hardly enough, compared to the future king Aragorn and the elven prince Legolas, he wasn't exactly notable.
As for Thorin and company, Berwyn might just be able to squeeze in. The only issue was finding them and convincing them he was worthy to join them.
Of course there was another option, ignore the system and just try to make a living as a normal human in middle earth. With his strength, face, and skills he should have no problem earning a living and he might be able to make a name for himself independently.
Naturally Berwyn wasn't going to choose this. Without the system it was unlikely he could gain the strength necessary to withstand the storm heading for Middle Earth. Going the 'independent' route meant he would inevitably form relationships with other people, when the time came would he have the strength to protect those he cared about.
There was also the fact that Berwyn was not a man without ambition in his heart, he wanted to save his favourite characters and see the glory of the magnificent battlefields in the story.
While Berwyn sat deep in thought, a tall and thin figure approached his camp unnoticed.
"That trout of yours is quite finished." A voice from behind startled Berwyn.
Berwyn jumped up, spear in hand and faced the stranger. This was an instinctive reaction from the original Berwyn, who had been on the alert for wild animal attacks for nearly a month now.
The stranger spoke again, "Stay your hand, I'm just an old wanderer who came by chance."
Illuminated in the last rays of sunlight was an old man dressed all in grey, holding out a pipe in one hand and a tall staff in the other. The old man had kindly dark eyes that reflected the flickering firelight and a grandfatherly smile behind a long silver beard.
"Ga-huh?" Berwyn's voice was hoarse and strangely croaky from many days of silence.
He had almost let the name 'Gandalf' slip from his mouth but immediately changed his tune. Gandalf pointed to the fish-shaped lump of charcoal that was once a trout.
Berwyn quickly dropped the spear and poked the burned trout with a stick, sadly his dinner was beyond saving.
"Sorry for pointing my spear at you, I've been on the road for almost a month and I'm quite tense." Berwyn apologised profusely while the gears in his brain spun. It was no coincidence that Gandalf had appeared here, a chance given by the system for him to join the main plotline.
Berwyn quickly looked around and grabbed a larger piece of driftwood to use as a bench.
"You're the first person I've seen since I came down from the north. Please take a seat, mister-?"
"I am Gandalf, Gandalf the wizard. Thank you for your hospitality, I've been on the road for quite a while myself." Gandalf said as he sat down, immediately a pipe and a small pouch emerged from inside his robes.
Gandalf's head lowered as he lit his pipe, but he was actually secretly examining the young man. The old wizard had intended to pass by unseen but the strange juxtaposition of this stranger's princely appearance and his rather miserable belongings stirred his curiosity.
"A wizard!" Berwyn widened his eyes in hopefully convincing shock, he already knew plenty about Gandalf. "I've heard stories about wizards, mysterious old men who have the power to control weather and tell the future."
Berwyn had to be careful in keeping the information from the two worlds separate, being too knowledgeable would come across as suspicious.
"Now that I think about it, the wizards of legend all seem to be wise old men and never young men or women. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it just makes me wonder."
"Well I doubt it would make a very interesting story!" Said Gandalf. "If wizards were all young they would have no need to seek out the young and brave to be heroes and go on quests, they would do it themselves."
As he spoke, several puffs of smoke floated above the campfire and stayed there. Berwyn couldn't help but notice these puffs didn't disperse and evaporate like normal smoke, but rather floated around like moths attracted to the light.
"As for women, those that use magic tend to be called witches, though often not a term they use for themselves and quite often it comes with a negative association." Continued Gandalf.
"Witch tends to bring to mind images of wicked old crones and warty toads, quite ironic as I know of someone that many may call a witch or enchantress who is quite the opposite. A creature of light, grace, and kindness that cannot be found anywhere else in Middle Earth."
An image appeared in Berwyn's mind, of the beautiful lady that would become the template for elves in most fantasy that followed Tolkien's works.
"Concerning my own abilities, I can do many things but in regards to controlling the weather or telling the future, I'm afraid I cannot be of assistance." Added Gandalf, as another puff of smoke joined the growing crowd over the bonfire.
"I must apologise, I've been quite rude and started rambling without even asking your name."
"Berwyn the hunter at your service." Berwyn introduced himself with a bright smile and a slight flourish.
With Berwyn's previous rough appearance this gesture would look quite silly, after becoming very beautiful due to the system, even silly actions from Berwyn seemed quite charming.
"Are you from Lograd?" Asked Gandalf. "That's the only mannish town from the far north that I can recall."
"You've heard of it?" Berwyn was genuinely surprised, even if Gandalf was famous for wandering all over Middle Earth, Lograd was so remote and uninteresting that it likely wasn't on any maps.
"I went there once, long ago." Said Gandalf vaguely. Given Gandalf's nature, Berwyn was unsure if he meant thirty years ago or three hundred.
"I remember it was a fishing village, built half on the water near the bay of Forochel. What has become of it now?" Asked Gandalf.
"Gone." Berwyn replied in a low voice, looking deep into the fire.
Violent memories from the original owner bubbled up, the rotting musk of trolls, the sound of snapping bone and tearing flesh, images of collapsed houses and burned fields. Bile rose up in Berwyn's throat and he forced it back down.
"Gone! What happened?" It seemed to be Berwyn's illusion but the flames of the bonfire jumped the same time Gandalf exclaimed.
"Trolls, the two headed kind. Came up from the ettenmoors I suppose." Berwyn replied with a distant look in his eyes.
"I was in the hills when it happened. When I returned the trolls had taken over and I didn't see any…survivors."
Gandalf looked troubled. As a member of the White Council that acted as guardians of middle earth, the movement of evil creatures such as trolls deeply concerned him. Trolls tended to stay within the mountains since they turned to stone in sunlight, they would rarely travel long distances unless something, or someone motivated them.
"This is going to come across as quite rude and inquisitive but it is imperative that I ask you, did these trolls carry weapons? Did they seem..organised?"
"Weapons?" Berwyn searched the memory of this body, unknowingly his hands began to sweat and his face paled.
"Yes, they carried clubs and blades. I cannot say if they were organised or not but there were definitely many of them."
Gandalf rested his hand lightly on Berwyn's shoulder, dispelling the chill that came over him at some point.
"I'm terribly sorry, I have caused you to remember deeply painful memories." Gandalf paused and let out a heavy sigh before continuing.
"I owe you a favor, young Berwyn. I've been travelling recently in search of information. What you told me adds one more piece to the puzzle."
Berwyn cast his mind to the plot in his memory. While not an expert who knew every corner of Tolkien's lore, he did read the books and watch the movies many times. There was little detail in what Gandalf was doing in the novel The Hobbit, the movies clearly showed Gandalf had been worrying about the return of Sauron for a long time.
One of the signs Gandalf rightly took as a sign of Sauron's actions behind the scenes was the movement of dark creatures such as trolls and orcs along the misty mountains. In fact, many trolls took action during the battle of five armies.
Gandalf's statement confirmed Berwyn's hope that he had arrived before the incident involving the lonely mountain and the dragon.
While deep in thought, Berwyn's stomach let out a loud gurgle.
"Excuse me-I am going to catch dinner." Berwyn picked up his spear and headed for the lake, the sun had set but his vision had become much keener in the darkness ever since his physical transformation.
Very quickly he came back with two decent sized trout.
The reason for this speed wasn't due to the original Berwyn's skill as a hunter, instead Berwyn relied on the skill provided by the system gift.
[Accuracy (I): Guaranteed hit within 50 metres. (Upgradable)]
(50 metres is the length of an olympic sized swimming pool)
Berwyn quickly cleaned the fish using his hunting knife and had them over the fire with a pinch of salt. Soon the fish finished roasting and Berwyn offered one of the trout to Gandalf.
"Where do you plan to go?" Gandalf asked while Berwyn devoured his fish messily and quickly.
"Somewhere warm hopefully." Berwyn replied with a wry smile.
"I happen to be heading south, to the charming village of Bree. Would you care to join me? Without horses it's around five days' walk." Gandalf offered.
"Ahem…" Berwyn didn't want to sound too eager but his heart rate accelerated, this was his chance to get involved with the quest.
"I'll have to take you up on your offer, I have been lacking in good company recently"