Author's Announcement

Warning - Graphic Content

Honestly, I'm not sure just how it's supposed to be categorized based on the warning. But it gets dark and I mean it. My other fan-fic that revolves around grim and dark doesn't have such a very deep immersion to the scene, or maybe I'm just drunk. Again, I'm not sure.

Perhaps, because the movie didn't feel that way, so, when comparing it to my writing it feels like it shouldn't fit in. But it does. I don't know.

Thank you for all the continuous support, and may there be many more! :)

| Total War Rome |

While the battlefield raged outside of Erebor, Bilbo had managed to scale up the wall and came over to find him. Balin and a few others voiced their concern for the Hobbit, lest he was seen by Thorin. Instead, Bilbo wondered; where was Thorin?

"Where is he?"

"He has descended further into the caverns, he would not listen. He has become lost, Bilbo." Balin with red eyes cried at the terrible sickness that had taken Thorin. However, with a solid unwavering voice, Bilbo replied.

"I will go look for him. I don't know how I will snap him out of it, but I will try! The Dwarves need him."

Both of them understood what needed to be done, and Balin nodded in acknowledgment and patted Bilbo on the back. "Aye - now find him!"

Like a person on an important task, he sprints deeper into Erebor. The clash of swords faded the deeper he went.

Meanwhile, the people of Dale who had retreated much earlier from the battle between the dwarves and elves are undergoing a breakthrough of a mass of orcs. The walls were brought down and the orcs have flooded the city. It was becoming disastrous by the second as many men were cut down despite their greatest efforts.

Yet there were still men who persisted and fought to bring down many with them before they were slain, but then on the back of their minds they were aware that they were clearly overwhelmed; there was no surviving the battle that has involved them. It was hopeless.

In the storming of the ruined city of Dale, many were slaughtered - those that fought and those that fled - men or women and children were granted not an ounce of mercy. The abandoned city that was vacant for years fed from the people once more, the street ran red, and the alleys were littered with piles of corpses.

Among the mountain of corpses were Sigrid and Tilda: breathing and alive - forced to hide among their murdered dead neighbors. Their eyes open and face permanently holding the sight of frightened fear as death took them.

Both girls stifled their cries and sobbed as their world came crashing down on them. While Bain hurriedly ran away, far from Sigrid and Tilda were hiding as he led the orcs from them. However, he soon found himself surrounded.

"Get back!"

He shouted threats at the orcs but not a sense of hesitation went through them as they raised their weapons. He is dead. He figured as much but with the little courage he had left - that was fading quickly - he offered; to take the orcs to their death along with him. It could be a few or maybe just one singular orc, he thought.

He didn't concern himself with the number of orcs he could take on, instead, he only cared about just how he was to attract the number of orcs he could distract and pull away from Sigrid and Tilda to escape.

Bain was only a boy and with trembling hands, he still thought about the safety of others, the hands that fished in the boat had become bloodied, and the rod that he equipped before had been replaced by a sword. The eyes that once worried about their life in Lake-Town have become struck by fear of their life being robbed from them.

With so much chaos that was happening, there was barely any chance to retaliate or deflect their assault before a sword cut him - it was only on the cheek yet it bled immediately - and he stumbled back to the ground. Tears are mixed with the blood stain on his cheek. He was frightened and was shaking beyond measure.

It was over and he knew it; but he couldn't bring himself to accept it as courage abandoned him, and only due to the sudden rescue that came for him that hope returned. His father came and he slew many orcs to get to him.

"Father!" Bain cried out and ran to him - both father and son embraced - as Bard soon pulled from the hug and a worried question followed: "Where are your sisters?" he asked. His eyebrows furrowed in deep anxiety.

"T-they're safe... I hid them in the p-pile of corpses... and then I ran away to lead the orcs away from them..."

Bain was on the verge of tears once more as he recalled all the grim moments, the horrifying scenes he would be remembering till the old days, the times that he was forced to accept that it was it. To only be spared like a cruel, and horrible joke. But he made it through.

At the knowledge of all his children being safe - temporarily - he felt a great relief wash over him. But he was not done until he got them out to safety. To do that he figured to gather the remaining men and clear a path to be used to escape out the city. The streets were narrow and they could easily be held, it was just a matter of being able to hold the choke point until everyone had escaped.

"Fast march! Quickly!"

Until the Romans appeared to storm the city as well to get to the other side and possibly to reunite with the units that went with the elves to confront the dwarves. Fortunately, he saw a familiar face - although it was not him - a good plan went over him.

"Centurion! Centurion!" Bard shouted and attracted the attention of the centurion and the Praefectus who were in a conversation - relaying orders and such - as Bard quickly approached them.

"Bowman! What happened to the Legatus and the auxiliaries?!" Magnus was immediate with the question as the legionnaires continued along behind them. The centurion and the praefectus looked like they had just engaged in a fight - like they had been ambushed - as he gave them the status of their dire situation.

"Curse these orcs! Centurion, I want you to relay to the others to secure the city. I will take a cohort and lead the search for the Legatus. Quickly!"

At once the centurion went to do as commanded before Magnus spared a glance at Bain who was trembling and had a fear in his eyes. "Take the women and children to the town hall. It has been secured." Just with that, he departs to lead a cohort from the legion to the massive battle outside the city.

Meanwhile, Numerius was busy with commanding the legion on horseback as he navigated the streets to scream out orders to the cohorts to defend strategic positionings. "Cicero! How goes the western parts?!"

"Magnus has successfully driven out the orcs, and he is now marching out of the city!"

Before Numerius could even question the implausible action, Cicero explained in the shortest possible way. "He is going to search for the Legatus that was last seen fighting amidst the orc army outside!" The idea that she was surrounded by enemies all around, it worried him to the effect that he wondered if he was too late. However, he remained rational as he placed his faith in Magnus - who was already on the move - as he handled matters here.

"Cicero take a few cohorts and hold the western parts! Hold it until Magnus and the Legatus return! I will hold a reserve to reinforce you once you send a messenger if your situation there becomes dire."

In turn, Cicero nods and leave as he yelled out. "First cohort and the rest! To me!"

While the Romans took to the streets of Dale to secure the line, the auxiliaries were being swept by the forces of orcs that were continuously descending upon them. The auxiliary - volunteered barbarian - made captains yell loud and long over the chaotic noises to maintain the square formation that was shrinking by the seconds.

"Fight! Kill them! Make them bleed!" The Britons chieftain shouted to his warriors and the others followed with their own clan. Their language and dialect were foreign, and the Romans who kept them in line were oblivious to their words. However, it mattered very little when they were all focused on holding off the beasts set upon them.

Their lives were staked at keeping the formation up - lest they were swept away by the flood that was beating on their rocks - as Estelle joined and fought alongside them. The warriors beside her were fighting with vigor, but it was only a matter of time until they were all exhausted that their swords would fall from their fading grip.

Just like hers as she clutches the handle on her sword tightly, her strength already being spent, yet she held on to it. Her fingers tore so deeply into the palm of her gloves that her skin bled, but her mind was too occupied to notice it. Regardless, the Roman Legatus fought on.

"Where is Thorin?"

The question was directed to the dwarves around him - had anyone seen Thorin - as their arms grew heavy and a sense of loss took them. Dain spared a moment to look around, wondering if Thorin had joined.

"We need him! Where is he?"

"Thorin - the dwarves need you! They need you!" Bilbo pleaded for Thorin to see reason, to see through the fog; the sickness that had entangled him - in mind and soul - but not the heart when Bilbo asked him. "You are home. You have returned to your home and your kinsmen are dying out there to protect it. Would you choose diamonds and gold, over the home you have set out to reclaim?"

"You speak about claims and choices, when there was none to choose when we were forced out from our home."

His voice slightly breaks at the remembrance of the hardship that they endured, but he remains ensnared by the sickness that held close to his heart. "You may not have back then. But, when you came to my home in Bag-End a dwarf exited it - set to reclaim his."

"Thorin, you made it possible to reclaim Erebor. Now you must defend it."

| Total War Rome |