Lonely Mountain

Marching towards Erebor is an army of two thousand dwarves from the Iron Hills and fifteen thousand legionnaires from the Roman Empire. The army of men are lost and homeless, they've traveled far and wide fighting many strange enemies as their numbers continued to dwindle for each battle they fought just so that they could establish themselves in this strange new lands.

Observing the legions, they held shields and javelins while carrying short swords attached to their belts, they had armor made of strips of iron. The iron made the armor strong and the strips made it flexible. They also had iron helmets that protected their heads and neck, but still, let them have a good vision for fighting. Their gears are quite different compared to the realm of men yet they were effective when they've proven their worth when they fought against the Easterlings. 

Leading this army is the prince of Rome, a young man with great charisma and courage, he has already proven himself to the legions by fighting with them during the heat of battle and by leading them to many victories.

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Tiberius POV

A few hours have passed since they've left Lake-town. Tiberius looked at the marching legions and sigh in relief knowing everything would be soon over. With the wealth that they would receive they could finally establish themselves and recuperate after a long journey.

After what he saw from the wainriders he knew that it will be far too difficult to lead an expedition towards Rhun the land of Easterlings. They would need to establish a stronghold where they could build up their forces and gather resources while the dwarves forge them new gears. He hasn't seen any complete map of middle earth yet, but from what Gandalf described the eastern lands are vast and would take years to reach the other end.

"Hey, lad! I've got something for you!"

Interrupting his thoughts is Ironfoot, the commander of the dwarven army. Riding his pig towards him the dwarf took something from his pocket before extending his arms towards him. On the dwarf's palm, he sees the golden ring that the Nazgûl dropped when it died.

"Hey isn't that?"

"Aye, one of the nine rings of power for mortal men, forged by the best elven smith but corrupted by Sauron's dark magic, he who wears it will gain eternity, wealth and power. Now I'm giving it to you."

Tiberius looked in shock at the dwarf who was offering the ring.

"What are you crazy?! Why do you think I gave you the cloak and ring? I know their past history from Gandalf and I refuse to become a mindless servant!"

Shaking his head the dwarf explains.

"The cloak was imbued with dark magic making it hard as mithril but only a Nazgûl could wear it without turning mad. I could cleanse its dark essence but it will take time, as for the ring of power it's now ownerless. I tried to weaken Sauron's imprint on it but because it's been in the hands of a Nazgûl for too long you can only wear it for ten minutes before it starts to corrupts you, in those ten minutes it will grant you power that you could not imagine."

Tiberius took the ring and observed it, he knows how important the ring would be if what the dwarf said was true, this land was too dangerous with its orcs, goblins, wargs, giant spiders and other mystical creatures. The ring would come in handy during emergencies especially now they were stranded on middle earth, but too bad the ring is still corrupted or else he would have immediately worn it.

"Why not take the ring for yourself?" He asked the dwarf.

"No, it's for man to wear, us dwarves had our rings. Seven rings for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, though they were all lost a long time ago."

He remembered something and questions the dwarf: "I see, by the way, I've never heard of any dwarfs turning into a Nazgûl."

The dwarf paused before replying: "Us dwarves are resistant to the malevolent magic of the ring, instead of turning us into mindless servants of Sauron it brought out something deep within us, it kindled our greed and wrath. The great dwarf lords who wore the rings changed as time passed, they became exceedingly rich and greedy; as the ring multiplied any ores mined within their mountains. Thanks to the rings the seven hoards of dwarves were made but it also attracted the dragons including Smaug causing great destruction and death to my kin."

The dwarf looked at the ring before shaking his head: "The ring might have brought great wealth to us but in the end, it was still imbued with Sauron's dark magic."

Tiberius pocketed the ring then silently looked at the dwarf before he asked about the dragons and their resistance to the rings. Ironfoot explains that the dwarves were created by a valar named Aulë to be strong, resistant to fire and the evils of a dark lord. They are resistant to fire, more than Elves or Men but are not completely immune to it. 

Ironfoot told his race history on how during the war of dwarves and dragons they slew many of the dragon kind thanks to their mighty weapons and skills, but because of the dragons great numbers in Forodwaith they lost too many dwarves during the conflict and were finally forced out of their mountains after twenty years of battle. They migrated south where they settled in Erebor and the Iron hills.

Listening to Ironfoot, he admired their race tenacity in fighting the dragons. The dwarves were brave and great builders, they were skilled in the art of crafting, creating fascinating weapons like the repeating crossbows and arrows that deflects projectiles in midair. The elves were great craftsmen too, but they aren't as interested as the dwarves in crafting. The dwarves were created by a God of Smith after all.

"Wait a minute I found this black arrow." He took out the black arrow which he found on the shoreline.

"A black arrow! Oh, great Valars! there are still some of them remaining?!"

He looked puzzlingly at the dwarf: "What, are they that rare?"

The dwarf eyes shined excitedly as he looked at the black arrow before explaining.

"That arrow in your hand is extremely rare and precious, they were only used when battling a great dragon. Unlike the great dragons, lesser dragons like the cold drakes which my kin fought during the war couldn't breathe fire and had weaker scales that can be penetrated by common steels albeit with difficulty. Great dragons like Smaug have extremely strong scales that can only be penetrated by the black arrows or weapons imbued with great magic. My kin lost the majority of the arrows during the war and the materials to forge them can only be found in the grey mountains which my kin were forced to leave. The remaining black arrows were either lost or given as gifts and by the time Smaug descended on Erebor we realized how foolish we were when we found out we had no arrows remaining."

Tiberius observed the black arrow in his hands, thinking how precious the arrow is, unlike the dwarves he would keep it for himself and when the time comes to slay a great dragon, he would use it.

As they continued their journey towards Lonely Mountain, the soldiers took out bread and sausages from their pockets as they eat their lunch while still marching. As they neared upon the gates of Erebor they heard Thorin's voice.

"Never again I will have dealings with wizards or shire rats!"