It went terribly wrong, it echoed through Bilbo's thoughts. He did his best to distract Azog's attention by stinging him in his shins, but he was losing his concentration since he saw Alyssae lying lifelessly under a warg. Her face was unrecognizable by blood. Thorin had known how to get on his feet. He could barely stand up straight and although he had cut off the paw of the animal, he didn't seem to be able to do much more. He leaned on his sword and his lips were moving, but Bilbo doubted anyone could hear him.
Bilbo faced his own problems again when Azog's sword nearly stroke him. In the meanwhile the creature discovered he was attacked by an invisible enemy, but he kept compelling Bilbo to the mountain side.
Droplets of cold sweat itched his eyes, while he seized his opportunities. He had to glide along the monster, which was a hazardous task because of the sword which seemed to cover every inch.
Bilbo heard his heart bouncing in his ears, which made it even harder to concentrate. He tried to control himself, since he knew his on-going gasping lured Azog.
He was little, he kept telling himself. He could take a spurt and dive between the legs of the orc. For one moment he wished he was facing Gollem, whose hunger he could postpone by riddles. Contrary to yesterday, only brute power was now standing before him- and a burning firmness to cut him in two.
The mountain side scratched his back unexpected, whereby he whined softly. Bilbo cursed his stupidity, because his cry drew the attention of Azog immediately. Bilbo saw the sword coming towards him. For a moment he was dumbfounded, without being able to do anything except for staring at the great sword.
Then his instincts took over and he dived to the ground. His knees and hands grazed and his jaws hit against each other when he touched the ground. Panicking he tried to get on his feet again, but his movements attracted too much attention. Bilbo felt a sudden pain in his arm when Azog stepped upon it. The bones creaked and flames of pain sprung from the bones of his fore-arm, which broke like matches. He screamed loud and let go of his sword.
The world spun around. Because of the pain he couldn't separate above from beneath. Waves of nausea overflew him and made him throw up. With his other hand he grasped the sword, in a last hope to survive. He cried heart rending while he tried to cut off his own arm, to get rid of the useless body part. He did not succeed.
Blood spouted out of the wounds he caused himself, but he couldn't make himself go further. He was dying.
Bilbo didn't even notice Azog kicking him aside like a dead dog, after which he turned around to go into the affray again. Mouse-still he was lying on the ground, while the ground around him colored red. It seemed like lava was spitted out from a deep hole. Everything got covered, but the source of the blood was extracted from sight. Nobody perceived Bilbo's lonely battle against the death, in which he tasted defeat slowly.