I know this story is no masterpiece, but can I get some reviews, please?
After a couple of days of riding, Thorin finally decided to let the group rest. The ponies were tied together as the Dwarves settled down to sleep. Clill rested her head against Thorin's chest as she watched the company. Kili and Fili sat close to the fire, smoking their pipes. Gloin laid asleep, snoring the loudest of the bunch, sucking in every moth and fly with every breath.
"Thorin?" Clill softly said looking up at her husband.
He didn't answer. His closed eyes and soft breathing were a sign that he had dozed off. Bilbo gained some attention as he got up. Out of the blue, a howling and cackle could be heard in the air.
"What was that?" Bilbo asked.
Fili and Kili looked out into the distance, listening to the noise.
"Orcs", Kili answered.
"Orcs?" he asked nervously.
Thorin opened his eyes as he awoke with a start. He looked around as the sound of Orcs could be heard a distance away.
"Throat-cutters", Fili said describing the Orcs to Bilbo. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."
"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep", Kili added. "Quick and quiet, no screams, just lots of blood."
Bilbo looked around scared. Fili and Kili watched him before turning toward each other chuckling. Thorin glared as he got up.
"You think that's funny?" he asked angrily. "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?"
"We didn't mean anything by it", Kili said as his frown left.
"You two are old enough to know better", Clill said shaking her head. "Orcs are nothing to joke about in the Wild."
"You know nothing of the world", Thorin said as he walked off.
Clill looked at him, knowing while it was true, it was a little harsh. Fili and Kili were old enough to be their children. They didn't have nearly as much experience as them and the others in battle. Balin looked at them and put his hand on Clill's shoulder.
"Don't mind him", he said. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate Orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs lead by the most vile of all their race, Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king."
Clill put her hand over Balin's as she looked at Thorin who looked deep in thought, appearing to relive that horrible day.
"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief", Balin continued. "He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him. A young Dwarf prince facing down the pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent…wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken."
Thorin kept his head held high as he remembered his victory. The rest of the company were wide awake as they listened to Balin's story.
"Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King."
Thorin turned to face the company who all looked at him with newfound respect. Bilbo looked at him in awe as he walked back to the group to try and rest a little more.
"But the pale Orc?" he asked wondering about the story. "What happened to him?"
"He slunk back into the hole whence he came", Thorin answered. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."
