On the day of Thurim, the year in which the greatest among the dwarves is commemorated, almost as a god or martyr to follow, the proud dwarves rejoiced with joy because the first one was beginning, and there were rumors of two other announcements by the. King.
One was the official naming of their Thorin as the next heir to the throne.
However, the other is only known to have started from a rare stone found in a mining section of the mountain.
This day will be remembered for the loss of the cradle, now leaving aside formalities, the city at the foot of the mountain lay in ruins, burning, the smoke witnessing everything that happened here no more than a few moments ago, that for those who once occupied this place were eternal hours.
The minutes passed from being time and it was every time someone died, every second was the fire that cooked them inside their armor, because if they removed it they would be absorbed by the fire of the dragon, and the hours were counted to have a record of when the dwarves or even the elves would arrive...
Is there anyone who can help us?
The city, fallen, there is only the plain that separates the lonely mountain from its cruel fate is witness to what will happen today, flying over both battlefields, a dragon kite is watching everything, gradually loses altitude hoping not to look at what will soon happen, scorched and aimed to break, sees the great silhouette approaching even closer to the mountain.
With a smile from side to side, the great figure contemplates its new home and soon site for a massacre that will mark the end of a race.
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POV Thorin
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The door fell, revealing what that figure was, all of us dwarves were shocked by the image, I felt its death face looking at us, a roar was enough to make the mountain tremble to the point of thinking that it would fall on top of us.
We are simple cockroaches at his side, the dragon charged against us, on the other hand we did not waste time, the crossbows were shooting left and right, all of them were flying as if nothing.
The hissing, as if it were a fairy, the chest of the dragon was inflated and filled with crimson red that if it were not for body naturally adapted for that heat, easily every time he spit fire would die, going up the throat opening the phases of his big mouth, we prepared a wall of shields to avoid his fire, until Balan threw me hagarro withdrawing against me from the battlefield.
A few seconds, a few moments ago I was with friends, colleagues and even people I saw grow up, those moments were enough to see how the dragon burned them.
With its long tail it destroyed the crossbows that were shooting at it, it treated us like flies, the corridors were built by our ancestors, being very large and resistant, easily the dragon entered and if it wanted to, it would rise on its two legs, it would easily have centimeters left to collide with the high ceiling that for centuries has been supporting the weight of the mountain along with us.
Witness were our eyes to see how with its size it swept away the largest and most powerful and best prepared army in the whole middle earth as if it were raising dust.
Dying, swallowing several dwarves alive or dead, the dragon killed them in cold blood with his eyes full of what seemed to be golden fire watched us, his gaze penetrated even the proudest ananus and ate the soul of whoever he looked at.
I forced Balam to go to combat and die with my brothers.
Balan: Thorin, our brothers are acting as a barrier, go get the king, without you or your father the dwarven people will fall for real.
Thorin: I will not let my brothers die!
Contemplating in slow motion as several of my brothers shot through the air before the force of the dragon, destroying with his body some bridges and several doors that served as protection to prevent any smart to reach the throne room.
The dragon flapped its wings a little, sending us all flying, including Balan who let go of me, the dragon ran towards the throne room, My father is in danger!
A bad feeling ran through my body just thinking about what the dragon would do to my father...
At that moment I ran as fast as I could, while I watched Balan giving orders and some of my best friends picking up the wounded and getting ready to...
Balam: Pick up the wounded, we have to go now!
Normally whoever said that we would have to retreat would be hit where it hurts the most, but I can't sacrifice my people in a battle that with the power shown before we can't compete in any way. We would surely lose before we could even put a scratch on him.
Following the trail of death, I got a ram that took me quickly to the throne, arriving to see the dragon that with one blow destroyed the part where the stone of the ark was, falling to the treasure chamber that was hundreds of floors below.
I can assure you that the dragon turned to look at me in a mocking way, snorting a little smoke when it noticed me before jumping to the bottom, destroying in the process the statues of my grandfather and Thór with its tail.
====Fin del Pov ======
Further down in the treasure chamber, near a door, Thorin is seen running towards the throne of the chamber where his father was with eyes lost in the emptiness within the infinity of the chamber that not even with the most experienced eye could see the end of the chamber.
Not far away inside a room you see the soldiers and civilians who could not fight resting, with hopeful eyes to see Thorin looking for good news.
A crack, no, a loud bang, as if an anvil fell from a great height, shook the whole room, the roar of a large body crashing against the gold of the treasure chamber, that was the unwanted invader that was about to end it all.
Dragons naturally have an immense fascination and curiosity for valuables, even collecting for mere greed, they are experts in jewelry, even more than dwarves, and in an instant can tell the real wreckage of an object or if it is also fake.
This is known as the "dragon's disease" which makes its bearer irrational and have a feeling of emptiness that can only be filled by gold, jewels and objects of high monetary value that no person can have by legal means.
This disease was not only exclusive to dragons, it is naturally applicable and adaptable to any rational living being, even the dwarf king fell to this disease, making him social before his people, taking the gold over his own son, being able to kill his son, Thorin in exchange for the ark stone.
As Thorin's luck would have it, his father was in the early stages of his illness, and when he saw the dragon, he became desperate to find the stone of the ark when he sensed that it was no longer on the throne above. The dwarf refugees ran towards the exit, but were blocked by a great avalanche of gold that buried them alive and slowed their pace due to the dragon's excitement.
Like a child in a candy store, Smaug, who with his refined eyesight could not see the back of the room, full of gold, jewels and highly prized riches, did not even stop to look at Thorin or the dwarves, he simply dived between the large mounds of gold causing some annoyance in the process, this was the Dragon's disease, it is impossible for them to reason with so much gold around, they only think about sleeping, protecting it at any cost, however they are not fools.
No matter how much gold they have, they will not give up their lives so easily, they may be blinded by the gold, but they will always seek to be alive and have the gold at the same time.
Smaug was no exception, having stopped his fluttering that made the chamber look like a swimming pool, he noticed the old king being dragged away by his son and some dwarves taking the gold, his gold.
An unforgivable act to steal something that the dragon concidere his, and more one as is the case of smaug, will not forgive anyone for such an act. Moving his body serperteando with the waves gold, put his body and spit fire, driving away several soldiers who "came to kill him", a few flames were enough to give to understand that he would not leave his treasure so easy.
Whether out of laziness or because he felt Europhonic for so much gold, he allowed some dwarves to retreat, feeling the anger, impotence and triztesa of all the dwarves of erebor, giving a loud roar as a sign that they will never return and less that they will try to stay, closing the door of the treasure chamber that were as big as him but with the detail that could only be opened from inside and that there is no way to move them from the outside.
In closing the inside with all his gold and some unlucky ones who would not be so lucky as to escape before he closed the door.
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POV Balam
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Thorin went for his father, calculating the direction of the dragon is directed towards him, it was only 30 minutes for him to return with his father and some of our brothers full of ashes and pale faces on their faces.
Hearing the horn of the elves, Thorin went out to the broken walls of the door still burning but requesting reinforcement of the elves to fight smaug, there is still an entrance to the chamber, and is the secret door of the king, was built as access and exit during the early years of construction of erebor, being abandoned and now only those closest to the royalty know.
The elven king, with his great army approached erebor, even with the smoke, I can see him and Thorin screaming disconsolate asking for his help as friends and allies, but, the elf left.
Thorin in anger and frustration would not give in so easily to this insult to the elves, declaring them as enemies, more so that there would actually be a war between us and them.
We gathered all our available resources and on hand, without being too close to the warehouse area, where the treasure chamber was located, we took some gold that was managed to get out of the riches room to subsist, some virgin weapons and set out on the journey, with the King in front and his son on his right, crestfallen we were for hours due to the rising due to losing our home.
This day will be remembered by all the dwarven race, we lost Erebor, the now baptized "The Lonely Mountain".
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Months later we heard nothing about our home, only of the misfortune that happened in the city, beyond what we lived as the fall of the most powerful city of all Middle Earth before the might of the dragon "Smaug the terrible", the very embodiment of death and despair.
We took positions in a dwarf kingdom, it was a long way to reach our temporary home until we can recover and return to the mountain to recover it, fate is cruel.
We do not know what the future holds for us from this point on.
=== End of POV====
The kite, looking around, oberserving for the last time the oldest race of Middle Earth, those who became the kings of the forge. Leaving their ancient home that now has another owner.
The winds have died down, the sound of metal ceased as the dwarves disappeared over the horizon, and with them the calm returned, causing the winds to allow the kite to once again rest on the ground of the plain, in a rather beautiful image ignoring the fact that the fire was still eating away at the city beneath the mountain and the still burning entrance to what was once the greatest city ever built.