The storm provided the perfect cover as Morinehtar and Romenstar worked together with their lightning and water elements to battle the goblins that mercilessly mobbed them. Romenstar blasted a wave of water over the next throng. Not one second later, a silver arrow shot an unlucky enemy standing in the middle, lightning arcing to the others near him who had been drenched as well. The stench of scorched skin rose with a cloud of steam. Morine felt her throat spasm with the urge to vomit as her brother thrust another wall of water forward. Romen glanced at her over his shoulder, concern etched in his features before he spun to stab a goblin who had skirted the last wave. Morine flung another arrow, the water intensifying her lightning and spreading it farther than normal.
The goblins believed for a time that the attacks were from the storm itself that raged above them, as the ones close enough to see the pair of Istari were immediate fatalities. The ruse faltered when an apparent leader pointed at them and screeched to the others. The siblings locked eyes as the hosts of goblins began to retreat from the eastern spur. "Let's go get them," Romen prompted, grabbing Morine's wrist and yanking her forward.
Running uphill amidst the pandemonium, Morine noticed her thoughts drift to little Bilbo. She doubted that any place or person would be safe from the black insurgency. "No!" she yelled to Romen, yanking him to a stop. "We need to find Bilbo!" Confusion flashed in his eyes, but he followed Morinehtar nonetheless as they veered toward the southern spur, desperately fighting to get to where the hobbit had gone with Gandalf and the Elvenking to ride out the battle.
The red and black flags were scattered everywhere, and as they reached the edge of the valley, there were piles of bodies from each race in the battle. This time Morine could not help but to stop and gag, heaving several times as Romen stood vigilant by her side. The elves had made an excellent first volley against the black tide, followed by a strong attack by the men and dwarves, but they were both not without great losses. Romen tapped her on the back and pointed back the way they had come. They watched as goblins and wolves began pouring over the tops of the mountain spurs, having scaled the peak of the mountain to enter the valley on all sides. The chances of survival seemed bleak now they were going to be surrounded. Morine's heart sank as Romen squeezed her shoulder. He gently said, "Let's go find your friend."
Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet rang across the hills, coming from the South Gate. Morine's face erupted in a smile as she realized Thorin and his company were finally coming to join the battle. She and Romen fought a new wave of goblins while she watched what she could of the dwarves' arrival between their attacks. The gold of Thorin's armor shone across the valley despite the darkness of the day, and the dwarves felled many wolves and their goblin riders while avoiding the rocks that were thrown at them from the top of the mountain. The King under the Mountain cried out in a voice all creatures could hear for his cousin's army, the men, and even the elves to come to him.
It was a move of desperation, and Thorin was already too conspicuous in his precious armor. Morinehtar felt a powerful pang of fear for him even while his numbers had swelled from his cry for help. It felt as though the entire battlefield began slowly pressing forward into the valley toward him as Morine and Romen left heaps of goblins in their wake. As they approached the bodyguard of Bolg, things took a turn for the worst.
The siblings fought as quickly as they could toward the immovable force that was Bolg, ferociously unleashing their most potent attacks, sweating and sparring and fighting for every foot of ground they gained. Yet they were not able to save Thorin and his group from the hard-hitting goblin ranks who reached them first. Simultaneous reinforcements of the enemy came pouring into the valley and over the mountain, and they were overwhelmingly outnumbered once again.
Not an hour after this latest shift in the tides did the cry of "The Eagles!" come echoing across the valley. Morine did not know of which eagles they meant, but by the enthusiasm with which the elves cried, she guessed that they were coming to aid their side. Even as the large majestic birds finally appeared in the sky where the clouds were breaking, they were still greatly outnumbered. Morine watched between attacks as the birds swept down to pluck enemies from the ground. The black army seemed never ending. When the eagles had finally picked the mountainsides clean of the enemy, the remaining elves and men on the spurs were free to enter the valley and help their friends.
As the day drew to a close, limiting their sight, a great roar was heard from the southern end of the valley, and bodies of goblins and wolves alike were sent flying into the air. Morine and Romen had not the luxury to investigate as they continued forward, having yet to make it to the small hill where Thorin and company were making a last stand against the ranks of Bolg.
The source of the fearsome roar was soon known as a gigantic black bear came tearing through the enemy with ease and made its way to the hill. Morine watched with an amazed grin as it scooped up Thorin—who had been felled by several spears, despite his armor—into a large paw and ran off through the battle, hopefully to get the King Under the Mountain urgent medical care. For the first time since the start of the battle, Morine thought that maybe they stood a chance. Romen helped her continue picking off the goblins and wolves with renewed force, and the bear eventually returned to battle. The black army dwindled in size and strength as what paltry daylight there was sank into the darkness of night. Finally, they picked their way to the southern spur at last, fighting the remaining enemies in their path, and climbed up to Ravenhill. Gandalf and the Elvenking were about to make their way down to the new camp with the remaining elven archers.
Before the battle had begun, Morine had told Bilbo to use the ring if the battle got too near to him, and he had agreed. He did not stand a chance against even the weakest of goblins, and being invisible was his only chance of surviving, as there was no place even for him to hide. Heart racing with concern for the hobbit, she asked, "Where is Bilbo?"
