All around you, your allies and friends prepared for battle. This did not sit well in your heart. The Free Peoples of Middle Earth, at war over a hoard of treasure: had the greed of the world grown to such strength? You dearly hoped not, but feared it was so. Even the Hobbits were involved, though only through the good burglar Bilbo Baggins. Shaking your head at this madness, you reluctantly picked up a spear and weighed it in your hand. Thorin, the leader of your company and the one most adamant about protecting the treasure of Erebor at all costs, even from the starving peoples of Laketown, strode quickly past and his gaze came to find yours. He did not seem pleased by what he saw in it- skepticism at his orders -and he paused.

"Do you doubt my right to defend my home?"

"Never." You spoke in truth.

"And yet you hesitate."

You gave a sigh and stepped back from the offered hand he reached to you.

"I would be a fool not to see how the treasure of your forefathers has warped your mind, Thorin. I fear your desire for battle is not borne of the protection of your home, but created from your lust for gold. The Dragon Sickness is taking you, Thorin, further than I can see repaired, and it saddens me."

Thorin waved his hand dismissively, impatient. "Either you will stand with us or leave the mountain in peace. It is your choice."

Your brow furrowed with frustration at how he just brushed off your words, yet your gaze was not one of anger, just sorrow. You grasped the shaft of the spear tighter and gave a stiff nod.

"I will fight with you until the end."