If you had thought that the brave and courageous Company of Thorin Oakenshield had managed to win a battle against three trolls… I can say to you that that is exactly what they managed to do. That is: if you count winning as being tied up in sacks and being turned into a hearty spit roast.

And yes, they were thoroughly enjoying the experience.

Until Gandalf appeared. On a large rock.

The trolls squinted at him.

"The dawn will take you all!" Gandalf bellowed, shaking his staff at them.

The trolls shared a look.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat him too?"

And the dawn did take them all, for Gandalf had bought it with him, and they were now not but mere terrifying stone statues.

Silence.

Then an eruption of cheer sounded, despite the enormous amount of fun the dwarves had previously been having.

The Company felt quite relieved, but quite undignified as they shrugged their outer clothes back on.

Dwalin stretched his back out, having been tortured by Bifur's foot; Dori patted his hair with annoyance; Fili brushed the dirt off the sleeves of his jacket; Morlia rooted around in the dirt for her eyepatch. She then straightened up and wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. Bilbo glanced up at the dwarf. There was certainly a reason for the patch.

"Is something the matter, Mister Baggins?"

Bilbo sat there, looking for an answer, as a cold draft drifted through the troll camp, rustling the tree tops behind them.

"It does its job, you know," Morlia murmured, the corners of her mouth twitching ever so slightly, "Even scares orcs."

Bilbo gave a hesitant smile.

"Well then, stop scaring our burglar," grunted Dwalin, gesturing for her to come over, "Are you going to help us or not?"

The Troll Hoard was decidedly foul went the Company entered it. As they indulged in its stench, they complained quite loudly. However, they seemed happy with the valuables they had found and had hid them for safe keeping.

And it was at this point that the Company were suddenly caught unaware by some loud noises, not too far away from where they were.

They stood there; weapons readied, faces stern, stances broad; when a rather confused looking man, robed in the literal embodiment of nature, popped out of the bushes.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" the small man yelled, waving his arms frantically above his head.

A small pause followed, of which included several glances between the members of the Company and the madman in front of them.

"Radagast! Radagast the brown. Ah," Gandalf held his hand out to him, smiling. Then his hand dropped and he squinted at the small man, furrowing his brows, "What on earth are you doing here?"

The white clouds seemed to follow the Company like one great entity as they sprinted over the grassy slopes, with it's rocks jutting and protruding out from the ground, to be surely tripping one member of the Company over at any given time.

The howls distilled fear into their bodies.

The screeches pricked at the fine hair on their arms.

"Stay together!" Gandalf roared, glancing over the heads of the Company, worry engraved in lines upon his forehead.

Thorin whipped his head around, braids lashing out across his face, counting his Company, eyes resting on the Hobbit. It was then that Thorin's feet suddenly hitched up as they caught against a grass mound, though, he did not fall.

Dwalin did not need to look at Thorin to know that his helping arm was appreciated.

"Move!" Thorin hollered out to the rest of his Company.

Radagast flew over the slopes, his laugh crackling and face crazed as his rabbits darted about. It was truly an odd sight.

Thorin turned to Gandalf, "Where are you leading us?"

Gandalf did not look at him.

From all sides the beasts stood; snarling, snapping, biting their cruel jagged teeth together; saliva pouring from their mouths and onto the grass in great waves, like tar spurting down the sides of a cliff. Panic charred the Company's faces.

"There's more of them coming!"

"Kili! Shoot them!" bellowed Thorin.

They all stood, weapons in hand, backing towards higher ground. Bilbo felt as if his heart was in his mouth. No escape was in sight. He glanced at Dwalin, who nodded to Morlia, who nodded to Thorin.

"We're surrounded!"

"Where is Gandalf?"

Bilbo felt a chill.

"He has abandoned us!"

"Hold your ground!"

Morlia eyed Kili, tentatively, as he took steps nearer and nearer the beasts. She drew a long knife from the inside of her jacket and lobbed it at the Orc in front of him, the edge delving into the soft underside of its' neck.

"This way, you fools!"

"Come on, move! Quickly!" Thorin barked, pushing his Company towards Gandalf, "All of you! Go!"

All of the Company slid into a crack in the rock, apart from two members.

"Kili!" roared Morlia, "Thorin, get in here!"

Thorin looked between them, "Kili! Run!"

The dust settled as they silently stood in the cave, listening to the shrill shrieks of the Wargs and Orcs.

Once the screams had calmed, they set out to find an exit.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads," Dwalin stated, "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!"

Gandalf nodded, "I think that would be wise."