Expeditions and Adventures

Warriors are busy fighting one another in distant
lands, and in this neighborhood heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly blunt, and axes are used for trees, and shields
as cradles or dish-covers; and dragons are comfortably far-off (and therefore legendary).”

—Gandalf in JRR Tolkien’s The Hobbit

When Bilbo ran down the lane toward the Green Dragon, without his pocket handkerchief or his pipe and pipeweed, he was taking a step into a much larger world than he’d ever imagined existed. It wasn’t just a change in the physical scenery that mattered. It was a change in his mental scenery as well. He admitted that as the adventure (or Adventure, as he tended to think of it) went on, he found himself assuming a role that he never would have imagined possible when the uninvited dwarves first gathered in his parlor at Bag End.

In the battle with the spiders of Mirkwood, he found himself, involuntarily, the leader of the dwarves, ready, as he himself said, to “do the stinging.” It was he who rescued the hapless dwarves from the wiles of the spiders; it was he who found an escape from the dungeons of the Wood-Elves; it was he, at last, who discovered the “back door” into the Lonely Mountain and the path to the treasure hoard of Smaug the dragon.

Even when he and the dwarves first arrived at the Lonely Mountain and were sitting outside the “back door” waiting for something to happen, Bilbo was a far different hobbit than the funny little fellow “bobbing on the door mat,” who had run out of Bag End without a pocket handkerchief. Gazing over the deserted town of Esgaroth, he dangled his feet and stared into the distance beyond the wood and mountains, wondering about the distant lands just over the horizon and what adventures they held.

Frodo and his friends had far more of those adventures than they bargained for, and for Frodo at least, it was a great relief to return to his old familiar haunts in the Shire—even though they were altered and he himself would spend only a few years there before taking sail from the Gray Havens for the Undying West.

Many of us are like that—we don’t expect adventures, and we resist them when they knock at our doors. But after all, we need them to spur us into the lands beyond our Shires, lands holding the promise of new experiences and new wonders to behold.

For some hobbits—Bilbo and those brave adventurers who come after him—the lands beyond the fields they know are a constant temptation.

Mode of Travel

For a hobbit, the preferred means of travel is his own woolly feet. Although Bilbo and the dwarves occasionally travel by pony, they walk a good part of the way to the Lonely Mountain. Of course, eagles also carry them some of the way.

Travel Maintenance

Ponies are all well and good when you can get them, and Bilbo and the dwarves begin their journey on a nice group of young horses that last as far as Rivendell. On the other hand, there’s the matter of stabling them, grazing them, and (in the interests of stealth) picking up after them. Perhaps walking isn’t so bad after all. Walkers should be sure to equip themselves with sturdy packs and stout staves, helpful for picking one’s way amid ruts and boulders in the road as well as for fighting off the odd goblin attack.

Walking the Paths of the Wild

One’s own feet are the most reliable means of transportation, but that isn’t to say that they’re the most convenient. After all, walking is slow, treacherous, and subject to weather and occasional attacks by midges, spiders (big and small), and Dark Riders. Still, on foot, you can expect to go about two or three miles per hour, which for a full day of walking will take you fifteen or twenty miles closer to your destination. And, among other things, it will improve your physique. Frodo is twice the hobbit he was when he and his friends finally arrive at Rivendell, ready to start the next, and longer, stage of his quest.

Travel by Ent

Pippin and Merry are the only two hobbits to travel via Ent—an unusual but highly efficient mode of transportation. Pippin goes so far as to try to count Ent strides (getting lost at about three thousand). Assuming most Ents are about as tall as Treebeard (fourteen feet high) and that the average Ent stride is about four and a half feet, three-thousand Ent strides would run to only about two and a half miles. In reality, Ents probably walk much further than that. We can reasonably assume that Ents travel at about twelve or thirteen miles per hour and are easily able to walk a hundred miles in a day. For purposes of travel in a place the size of Middle-earth, that’s a good pace.

Travel by Boat

Keep in mind, of course, that hobbits generally dislike water. Hobbits, as we learn early on, come in three varieties: Stoors, Fallohides, and Harfoots. Of these, only Stoors (from whom were descended most of the Brandybucks and hobbits of Buckland) had any interest in, or skill with, boats. Hobbits in general distrust boats as nasty, tricky things, as likely to dump you into the water and drown you as not. However, when push comes to shove, a hobbit will travel by water, although he won’t be happy about it. Sam Gamgee, about as typical a hobbit as you’ll find outside the Shire, complains constantly when traveling by boat down the Anduin River, and the others of the Fellowship learn quickly that he’s not to be trusted with a paddle, even in calm waters. So travel by boat is an option, but only in the most desperate of circumstances.

Warg in Waiting

Those of the goblin (or orc) persuasion may want to consider riding wargs. The wild wolves of Middle-earth have the minor drawback of occasionally eating their passengers (and anything else that gets in their way), but surely that’s a minor inconvenience compared to the security of riding your own private, living tank. Wargs have a wide range and are quite capable of devouring the irritating dwarf, elf, or hobbit that gets in your way. (Special note: Beware of wizards wielding staffs!) [Extra-special note: Beware of elves wielding bows!)

Fly the Friendly Skies

If neither pony nor foot nor boat nor Ent will serve, consider asking an eagle for a lift. The advantage: a bird’s-eye view of the landscape of Middle-earth. The disadvantage? Well, slipping off midflight, for one thing. For another, there’s always the danger that the eagle will mistake you for a morsel intended for one of its offspring. But that’s a small price to pay for a quick flight. Eagles are discerning birds with a general allegiance to the right side in a fight, but it’s all too possible for an eagle, on an early morning reconnaissance flight, to mistake a hobbit for a tasty rabbit. The general lesson: Eagles are useful but potentially dangerous allies.

Appropriate Clothing

If you’re going to go off on a quest, for goodness sake dress the part! For example, when traveling for a long journey in varying weather, something simple in a dark green hood and cloak is indicated. If one is cautiously stealing into the heart of a dragon’s lair, it’s better to wear something sturdier—mithril mail perhaps. Above all, wear boots. They’re a good indication of how long you’ve been traveling (Strider’s are caked with mud when Frodo first meets him), as well as your status as an adventurer.

Equipment

Questing is a dangerous business, and one should not undertake it lightly. The basic equipment one might take when setting off in search of a dragon-guarded treasure includes the following:

• A sword
• A coat of mail—preferably dragon-proof
• A cloak
• Rope, because you never know when it’ll come in handy; if you don’t have it, you’ll want it
• Boots (unless you’re a hobbit, in which case, fur-shod feet will serve)
• A magic ring that makes you invisible (optional but helpful)

Keep in mind that at least half, if not two-thirds, of your equipment will be lost along the way in misadventures, encounters with trolls, dragon attacks, and disastrous adventures involving goblins and wargs. So plan to take at least twice as much of anything you need, since someone else will wind up with half of it before your adventure’s over.

Things Not to Take With You

Lest you be tempted to over-equip yourself with items you really won’t need on an expedition in search of adventure, here are some things not to take with you:

• MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. It’s true that at the beginning of the adventure you might want to sing a long, epic song that explains to anyone who cares to listen how you came to be in the fix you’re in and why the treasure buried under the mountain is yours. But are you really going to need clarinets, bass viols, a drum, flutes, fiddles, and a harp for all that? And what are you going to do with all of these musical instruments when your party is attacked by goblins in the mountains? Better leave it all at home and practice your a capella singing.
• COOKING EQUIPMENT. Keep in mind that you’re going to be traveling through the Wild, where food will mostly consist of game shot with arrows and slow roasted over an open fire. No one’s going to care whether you can sauté a rabbit or fricassee a pigeon. A box of salt is nice; salt is always useful. Leave the pots and pans at home.
• GOLD AND SILVER. This applies particularly when you’re coming home from a quest. You’re traveling through a lot of lawless lands, without any particular protection (unless you travel with a wizard, then you’re probably all right). Gold and silver attract thieves—try a letter of credit instead. You can still pay for first-class accommodations at inns along the way.

Weapons

Hobbits are especially good with anything that can be thrown: stones, darts, quoits, and so forth. Elves, on the other hand, are skilled bowmen, able to hit a target a long ways distant while slipping from tree to tree. Dwarves, as implied in Gimli’s case (and reinforced by Dáin and other dwarves), prefer axes. Wizards such as Gandalf and Saruman use their staves (and, occasionally, swords). Men such as Aragorn and Boromir prefer swords—not merely swords but named swords that have a lineage. For example, Aragorn carries Anduril, the Flame of the West, the Sword That Was Broken and Has Been Reforged. That’s a pretty impressive lineage for a sword, and you have to wonder if Anduril would have preferred being called Smith or Jones or something a bit less epic.

Using Rope

When traveling, it’s possible—nay, probable—that you’ll have to use a rope somewhere for something. In that case, remember the following points:

• THE MORE ROPE YOU HAVE WITH YOU, THE BETTER. After all, it’s not possible, when climbing down a steep cliff face, to have more than enough rope.
• HAVING SOMEONE IN THE PARTY WHO CAN TIE KNOTS IS A VERY GOOD IDEA. Simple clove hitches are essential to any good traveling party, but if you have someone who knows a splice from a bowline and who can tie a square knot without getting the ends mixed up, well, you’re golden.
• GOOD ROPE COMES WHEN IT’S CALLED. If you tie a strong knot and lower yourself down, then call the rope to come after you, chances are it’ll do it. Of course, it helps if the rope was made by elves originally.
• ROPE IS GOOD FOR MANY THINGS. For instance, you can use it to climb down a cliff, climb up a cliff, guide your way through a maze, or in desperate straits, secure a nasty, slimy creature that’s been following you for weeks.

Food and Drink

Bilbo says little or nothing about the inns the party uses after they leave the Shire. However, travelers are well advised to keep an eye peeled for well-kept, neat, pleasant establishments. The Prancing Pony in Bree is highly recommended, since it caters to both men and hobbits. Perigrine Took makes reference to The Golden Perch in Stock in the Shire. In such a house, one desires a pleasant common room, good beer, plain fare, and soft, clean, inviting beds. An absence of Black Riders also makes for a good night’s sleep.

Ale

The best beer may be in the East Farthing (as Sam Gamgee knows), but there’s no reason to turn up one’s nose at other ales one is offered along the way. The discerning hobbit knows that beer is, after all, beer, and it’s quite possible that the cellars of Minas Tirith may have as much to offer as the Green Dragon in Bywater. Still, hobbits and dwarves excel at the brewing of beer, while wine is the preferred drink of men and elves. Drunkenness is nothing to be ashamed of, provided it’s cheerful and conducted in a lively company.

Brewing

Hobbits are surely among the earliest of craft brewers. The Golden Perch in East Farthing has excellent beer (Pippin recommended it to Sam), and presumably the Green Dragon has its own ale that’s widely boasted of—widely known, at any rate—to attract a crowd from around the Shire. Sadly, no manual of Shire brews exists. (Meriadoc Brandybuck was public spirited enough to write a treatise on pipeweed, but unfortunately, nothing on beer.) However, we can assume from stories passed from one generation to the next that a number of Shire inhabitants were well experienced in the art of brewing various kinds of beer, including ale, stout, lager, pilsner, and probably (given Tolkien), India Pale Ale. God knows what they called the latter: probably Anduin Pale Ale or something.

Eating With Hobbits

Hobbits are fond of good plain food—and plenty of it. Second breakfasts (and lunches, teas, and dinners) are common among them. Hobbits believe that if it can’t be eaten, it doesn’t have much of a point (excepting, of course, friendship and pipeweed). Normal hobbit meals include such fare as bread, tarts, mushrooms (in abundance), cheese, meats, pies, fruit, and as much wine and ale as can decently be drunk. Hobbits adore that moment in a dinner when one is mostly full but sits around the table, nibbling at the remaining fare, and “filling up the corners.” And, of course, there’s nothing better after dinner than a long pipe and a good nap.

Eating With the Elves

If you love meat and are never satisfied with a meal unless it contains a juicy, thick cut of steak, well, don’t break bread with the elves. The Fair Folk are, for the most part, vegetarian. Their meals consist of bread, fruit, nuts, and wine, as well as mysterious drinks that aren’t wine, aren’t water, and yet set everyone’s tongues wagging. The best thing to do when dining with elves is to eat plenty of everything. It may not be substantial, but it will salve your hunger better than many a hearty dinner in the Shire.

Language Tips

The elves of Middle-earth are not linguistically homogeneous. In fact, they have a variety of languages, depending on where they’re from. For the most part, their dialects are sufficiently similar to one another that they can understand each other (the elves of Lothlórien have no difficulty in understanding Legolas Greenleaf, although he comes from Mirkwood, far to the north). Elf language, broadly speaking, is either Sindar or Quenya.

Lembas Waybread

The dwarves have cram; the elves have lembas. There’s really no comparison: lembas keeps a strong warrior on his feet for several days, while cram is nothing more than English public school stodge. It’s possible that the elves took cram and developed it into lembas; we really have no way of knowing the origins of this delicious yet nutritious sustenance. In any case, with a food bag full of lembas, anyone in Middle-earth can face a long journey with equanimity.

Eating With the Dwarves

Dwarf cuisine is unquestionably closer to hobbit tastes—and quite possibly most humans—than that of the elves. At least the dwarves eat meat! And drink beer! In large quantities! Then again, when you’re traveling on a long journey you’d much rather be carrying a supply of lembas, the elvish waybread, than the dwarvish cram (which, as Bilbo quite rightly complains, sticks in one’s throat). Dwarves, accustomed to long marches and privations, take pride in existing on short rations, something no hobbit would tolerate for a moment.

Eating With Men

From a hobbit’s standpoint, eating with men is the most natural option. Hobbits like good plain food—simple dishes like steak and kidney pie, ripe cheeses, tarts, and a lot of ale to wash it down with. Apart from Númenóreans and those who “live on the heights,” most men of Middle-earth would feel quite at home in a hobbit establishment such as the Green Dragon—and vice versa. The men of Minas Tirith eat bread, cheese, apples, and skins of ale, enough to satisfy for the time being the appetite of a hungry hobbit.

Meat

Though hobbits rarely eat meat, they won’t turn their noses up at a nice bit of steak, even if it’s cooked over an open fire on a forked stick. Possibly some venison, shot in the Wild by a helpful Ranger, would be welcome. Raccoon, possum, beaver, and rat also count for possibilities. Oh, all right! Not necessarily rat. Although it’s welcome in times of famine—if not delicious, then at least nutritious. It tastes somewhat like chicken.

Manners

Hobbits, whatever their background, have been raised with proper manners. Despite being in Ithilien, many miles from home, Frodo and Sam know enough to follow the dinner customs of their hosts, and rise and bow to the west before beginning the meal. Frodo comments that he and Sam feel a bit rustic, even in their simple surroundings, observing the customs of Faramir and the men he commands. On the other hand, as Tolkien reminds his readers, it doesn’t cost anything to observe good manners. When the dwarves unexpectedly call on Bilbo at the beginning of The Hobbit they tell him, “At your service.” He remembers to reply, “At yours and your family’s.” It’s a small gesture, but no doubt much appreciated.

Entertainment

Entertainment during meals isn’t expected, but it’s a nice variation. Be prepared, as part of the dinner menu, to tell the story of your travels, accompanied by songs, dancing, and possibly magic tricks. If one of you has a magical ring that makes the wearer vanish, well, that’s an added bonus.

Comic Songs

Should you be asked to provide entertainment at a gathering, comic songs are not advisable. After all, one’s idea of humor varies widely, and what strikes hobbits as amusing is more likely to impress a steward of Gondor as outrageously forthright or unbearably rustic. On the other hand, if you know a piece of historical or mythological poetry that you could recite, it’s not likely to offend anyone. Just make sure you remember which side is supposed to win at the end.

Visiting Abroad

Hobbits don’t, as a rule, stray far from home. But for those who do, certain rules apply:

• Adapt to local customs
• Stay close to the ground in the event of a battle
• Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger
• Do not meddle in the affairs of men, for they are long-winded and irrational
• Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for they find you delicious
• Oh, and as a final piece of advice: Keep plenty of pipeweed about. You never know when you’ll need it.

Foreign Customs

When traveling in foreign parts, one should assume that the customs of the inhabitants will be different from what a well-bred hobbit is used to. Bilbo is no doubt pleasantly surprised to find that the men of Dale hold banquets on special occasions, just as the hobbits of the Shire do every midsummer’s eve. After the destruction of the Ring, the men of Minas Tirith hold banquets and feasts as well, so no doubt Frodo and his companions are well feted.

Banquets

While the elves of Rivendell feast on occasion and spend many hours in the Hall of Fire telling stories and singing songs, hobbits, as Bilbo remarks, will never quite acquire the elvish taste for song and poetry. Still, the hobbits enjoy banquets, and there’s nothing wrong with marking a special occasion with a feast. After all, the hobbits of the Shire, every midsummer’s eve, hold a special banquet to elect the mayor of the Fourth Farthings, a post Will Whitflour has held at the beginning of The Lord of the Rings for some time.

Birthdays

Birthdays are best celebrated in the comfort of one’s own home, and in the presence of friends, relatives, and a few specially invited wizards and dwarves. However, it may be that you’ll find yourself celebrating birthdays abroad in strange, faraway places. In that case:

1. Thank your guests properly before disappearing.
2. Don’t regift presents, even mathoms (see below) that have circulated several times around the district. It’s still rude.
3. Remember the proper names of those you’ve invited to attend. It’s not Proudfoots, it’s Proudfeet.
4. The proper way to say “Thank you” at a banquet is something along the lines of “Thank you very much for coming to my little party.” It’s not “Thag kew very budge.” Even if you have a cold.

Language Tips

Mathoms

The hobbits of the Shire were fond of gift giving and give presents on their birthdays to all and sundry. Given the size of the population and the general practice of interfamilial marriage, most hobbits are related to one another, which means a lot of birthday parties and, consequently, a lot of present giving.

It’s only natural that not all presents are equally valued. The hobbits consequently developed a term for presents that are “regifted”—in some cases they were passed around the Shire two or three times before finally settling into some unhappy household. The hobbit term for such gifts is mathom.

Although there is no modern English equivalent, the closest we can come to this term today is fruitcake.

When Visiting on the Heights

Cities are nervous sorts of places, with lots of people rubbing elbows with one another at far closer quarters than your average hobbit is used to. Whether built of stone or of wood, cities are unaccustomed places for hobbits to live in. Nonetheless, it’s always possible to find an inn that serves good beer. The lesson is: Adapt to circumstances.

Be Careful What You Say

If, by chance, you’re visiting a city and are brought before the lord of the city, don’t be too quick to volunteer for his service. You never can tell what this will get you. It’s entirely possible that a few injudiciously chosen words on your part will place you squarely in the middle of an army going to attack the Dark Lord’s tower. And no one wants that.

Make Friends With the People Who Know Where Food Is

Nothing is more important than breakfast—with the possible exception of second breakfast. A soldier ever goes in search of his next meal, and small men (or hobbits) may do mighty deeds at the table. The most important thing, therefore, when entering a new city, is to find out where the grub is coming from. It’s possible that there’s a well-ordered system—for instance, military kitchens (butteries)—that serve regular food. In that case, you’d be well advised to discover very quickly where they are, when meals are served, and what the portions are like.

Make Friends With the People Who Know Where the Drink Is, Too

Second only to knowing where your next meal is coming from is discovering who’s serving the next drink. You may have to snatch it from under someone’s nose or quietly extract it when his back is turned, but drink is essential to the enjoyment of any good round of food. Here’s a general guide to drinking:

1. Beer, from a hobbit’s point of view, is what they drink in Valinor.
2. Wine is great when you can’t get beer.
3. Wine and beer together make a party much more fun; what could be better than an evening at the Prancing Pony in Bree, fueled by wine and beer?
4. If you can’t get wine and you can’t get beer, you’re probably in Mordor (Sauron, apparently, doesn’t believe in giving his troops alcohol; life must be pretty freaking boring if you work for the Dark Lord).
5. Interestingly, the first thing Saruman does when he takes over the Shire is to stop the brewing of beer, which probably says something about the hobbits’ idea of Hell.

When in the High Places

Hobbits may not do well in high places (such as mountains, eagle eyries, and high staircases), but they recover once they return to the level plains and hole dwellings in Hobbiton and the Shire. The truth is that most of us (hobbits included) do better in our natural environments. If you’re frightened by the circumstances in which you find yourself, always remember that sooner or later you move from the high places to the low ones, from the open, empty shelves of windy mountains to the secure burrows and comforting, panel-lined homes of the Shire.

If You Find Yourself Talking to People Who Think They’re Better Than You

The tone you should use is the same one you use when people want to borrow money from you. Use a tone that is firm yet dignified, calm, yet cold and concise, assured yet accommodating. Above all, let these people know you’re in control of the situation. They may think that they’ve got you besieged in a mountain with your dwarven companions, but you still have a trick or two to play. There’s no way they’re going to turn down the Arkenstone of Thráin.

Have a Bargaining Chip

This is the key to winning any negotiation: Have something the other side wants far more than what they’re willing to give. Like Bilbo, you may have to be a bit underhanded in getting it, but once you have it under your cloak, you can use it to bargain your way out of just about any situation. Remember, the Arkenstone is the key to controlling any situation with people whose motives you’re not quite sure of.

When in Eagles’ Nests

If you wake up in an eagle’s nest and the eagle is sitting near you, trimming its feathers, the best thing you can do is agree with whatever it says. Or does. I mean, it’s not as if the situation’s going to work out well for you, if you start arguing with it.

Eat What You’re Given

If an eagle (or anybody else in a similar position) offers you something to eat, take it. It’s not as if you’re likely to be offered something better. And even though rabbit or pigeon roasted over an open fire may not be your idea of haute cuisine, it’s much better than starving to death.

If You Have a Chance to Do an Eagle a Favor…

If you’re casually sitting under a tree, thinking of this and that and not paying much attention to the world around you, and an eagle drops by with an arrow in its wing, promptly remove it. Trust me, it’ll work out for the best in the end. A grateful eagle is one you want on your side. He’ll at least be more willing to do you a lot of favors. He might even rescue you from the middle of Mordor just as Mount Doom is erupting.

When in Woods

Woods are comfortable. Woods are places where hobbits can be happy and frolic. Hobbits have a natural affinity for trees; they love everything that grows. Give the average hobbit a tree, a soft spot on the grass beneath its spreading branches, and a patch of sunshine, and he’ll be asleep before you can say “Belladonna Took.”

When in Big, Scary, Unknown Woods. And I’m Not Talking About Woods Anywhere Remotely Close to the Shire, But Woods That Are in a Completely Different Part of Middle-earth and Seem to Be Alive. That’s How Scary They Are.

Make friends with the trees. Fast.

If the Trees Start Talking to You

Talk back. You don’t want to be rude. Trees have feelings too, you know. And there’s no reason to think they won’t be able to give you valuable advice. They might even be able to offer significant support. Or overthrow a rogue wizard or two. Trees are very important allies.

If they offer you a drink—drink it. You can always buy a larger set of clothing.

If You’re in a Live Wood

If the wood comes alive and offers you a drink, it’s probably a good idea to accept. And if you find yourself very far from home and the wood is offering to take you to one of its halls, that’s a good time to accept its hospitality as well. Who knows? You might like the drink it offers.

Accepting Drinks from Strange Trees

A tree that offers you drinks that taste like water on steroids is probably not something you’ll encounter in the normal course of things. But if you do, drink the drink. It’ll increase your height, weight, strength, and sexual stamina. You’ll come home taller than everyone else. And you’ll be able to tell other people in bars that you met the Oldest Living Thing Ever. That’s got to be good for a few rounds of ale.

If You See a Fire Among the Trees

If something glows a long way off in the distance and it looks like a fire, but you’ve been warned not to leave the path under any circumstances, no matter what you see, even if it looks like a fire and you’re starving and tired and hungry and you don’t really care anymore about your quest, and you wonder if they’ve got honey cakes and mead and ale wherever they’re eating way back among the trees and you really, really, really want to go and investigate. Don’t. Trust me. It won’t end well.

Just Who Lives in Woods?

Lots of nasty creatures make their homes in the woods. These include, but are not limited to, the following:

• TROLLS. Stone trolls aren’t very bright and can easily be fooled, but once they’ve got their hands on you they’re not likely to let go. They like to eat anything that moves, including men, elves, dwarves, and hobbits (when they can recognize them). To render them helpless, wait until dawn, when they’ll turn to stone.
• SPIDERS. Ordinary-sized spiders exist, of course, in abundance, but in the darker, more remote sections of the forest, you’ll find the descendants of Ungoliant, ready to feast on fresh blood. They’re larger than men (even pretty big men) and equipped with stingers that will render smaller creatures helpless. They prefer their meat fresh, having hung it head down for a couple of days. To defend against such spiders, have plenty of stones and an assortment of insulting names handy.
• GOBLINS. Let’s face it: Goblins are pretty much everywhere you find darkness, damp, gloom, and mold. They have swords, fire, and an appetite for ponies. I mean, they eat ponies! What else do they eat? Fluffy kittens? Baby ducks? Elmo? To defend against them, you need magic goblin-killing swords and a spell that produces fire from nothing.
• WOOD-ELVES. All right, Wood-elves aren’t nasty. They’re just… unreliable. Like most elves, they have a somewhat exaggerated opinion of their own importance, and they’re suspicious of nearly all strangers, no matter how innocent. They don’t treat their prisoners badly, compared to the way goblins treat prisoners, but still, they keep prisoners in cells underground.

When in Caves

Compared to some of the really unsavory places you may find in Middle-earth, caves aren’t too bad. Hobbits are fond of holes, really, and caves are just very long, deep holes. However, when caves are inhabited by goblins and other, nastier things, they can be problematic. Be sure to find the exit as quickly as possible. You don’t have to use it right away, but at least know where it is.

If You Meet Something in a Cave That’s Lived There for a Really, Really Long Time…

Caves are places where dark, mysterious things dwell. Slimy, dark, mysterious things. With big, pointy teeth. If you meet one of them, it’s probably as well to find something to pass the time. Possibly a riddle game. Yeah, that’s it. A riddle game. Because dark slimy things always like riddles.

Hobbits and dwarves are more comfortable in caves than, say, elves (except the Wood-elves of Mirkwood, and they are a special case). The main thing to keep in mind is to keep going up. Going down in a cave gets you into all sorts of places you’d rather not be. Going up gets you closer to the light and back doors, which are both very good things.

Stalagmites and Stalactites

Caves are full of mysterious protrusions that grow from the floor and from the ceiling. Lots of people confuse the two, but it’s pretty simple to keep them straight. A stalactite hangs from the ceiling (it has to hold “tight” to the ceiling of a cave). A stalagmite grows from the floor (it takes a lot of “might” to grow upward). In either case, stalagmites and stalactites can be handy places to hide from the prying eyes of strange creatures that want to eat you.

The Woods and the Mountains

When traveling between the mountains and the woods, keep an eye out for:

• PARTIES OF ROVING WARGS AND GOBLINS. This sort of thing is seasonal. Summer is a popular time for raiding parties—the days are warm, the light stays longer, and all the woodsmen are busy getting drunk. What better time for wargs and goblins to team up and eat a few villages?
• EAGLES. Eagles like to hunt at night, and even though their eyesight is extremely keen, it’s entirely possible that a large economy-size eagle will mistake an innocent traveler for dinner. Consider waving a primitive flag or making a hand signal to show you’re not a wayward rabbit, just an innocent wayfarer who wants to be left in peace.
• SHAPE CHANGERS. Bears are bad enough. Bears that change into humans that pretend to be bears are even worse. The technical term for creatures like this is were-bears, but shape changers will do. They’re dangerous, but they can be useful allies, particularly against goblins and wargs. The chief lesson you can learn from were-bears is that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover or an ally by its skin. Remember: Some of the best and stoutest allies have fur.

Crossing Water

Essentially there are two ways to cross a body of water: by swimming or by boat. If you can’t swim (and almost no hobbits can), you can try a boat. If you don’t like boats (and few hobbits do), you can walk around the water or sit down and wait in hopes of something or someone coming along to carry you to the other side.

Cities

Hobbits much prefer towns to cities; the latter are too large and too populated for comfort. However, hobbits can acclimate to just about anything, including cities. Fortunately, they’re not called upon to do so very often. In the time of Frodo and Aragorn, Middle-earth had, effectively, only two cities: Minas Tirith, the guard against Mordor, and Minas Morgul, city of the Witch-king. Towns (such as Bree, Hobbiton, or the towns surrounding Gondor), settlements (such as Rivendell or Isengard), or military outposts (such as Osgiliath) were much more prevalent.

Finding Your Way About

Fortunately, cities in Middle-earth aren’t that big or that complicated in their structure. Minas Tirith rises in seven concentric circles, each piercing the reef of rock at the easternmost point of the city. So even Pippin, who’s new to Minas Tirith, doesn’t have a lot of difficulty in navigating the city. He simply continues downward until he reaches the level of the gates; there’s nowhere else to go.

Minas Morgul’s geography is more difficult to estimate, but it’s no larger than Minas Tirith—probably smaller, since the Ringwraiths don’t require as much space to operate.

Food and Drink

Every big city has its taverns. Even smaller towns such as Hobbiton and Bywater offer places where a hungry and thirsty hobbit can settle down with a well-deserved sandwich and a pint. Minas Tirith may be a city of stone and tradition, but plenty of friendly pubs within its city walls will serve a pint to a warrior after a hard day’s work of fighting off Nazgul. Take a lesson from hobbits: When entering a city, your first matter of business should be to find out where the grub is served.

Government

Hobbits, by and large, use simple governing structures. The Shire has a mayor, the Mayor of Michel Delving, elected once every seven years. His primary duty is to preside at banquets. Cities, on the other hand, are more complicated. Minas Tirith comes complete with a steward, at first, and later, a king. The latter’s jurisdiction extends all the way to the Shire. (King Elessar eventually makes it a free province and forbids men to enter.) Even so, the hobbits maintain their traditional ways, seven times electing Samwise Gamgee mayor of the Shire. The kingship of Gondor continues, although the Shire may or may not still be part of its domain. In any case, the lesson of Shire politics is simply: “All politics is local.”

Town Masters

The exception that proves the rule about local government seems to be the Master of Lake-town. His is an elected position, and it’s clear that a certain amount of corruption accompanies it. Like most politicians, he’s a proven coward, and he is willing to say anything to divert attention from his involvement in Esgaroth’s deplorable situation following the dragon attack.

It’s impossible to say how many other towns in Middle-earth have masters. The general rule of thumb is clear, though: Don’t trust anyone who’s elected (except the Mayor of Michel Delving, who’s pretty harmless).