Prologue
The three women wa
Most of the dwarves of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were chatting among themselves, drinking and having some fun at Bilbo’s house, Bag End. Thorin himself was a little apart, hearing his old counselor, Balin, trying to make him give up his quest of taking back Erebor, the home of his fathers, from the dragon Smaug.
“So, we lost our burglar. Probably, to the best. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tin-smiths, toymakers... none of the stuff of legend.”
“There are mighty warriors amongst us.” He minded this compliment to the white bearded dwarf. The elderly shook his head.
“Old warriors.”
“I would take these ones over an army from Iron Hills. For when I called, they answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask for no more than that.”
