Belegond stayed at the top of the hill and picked off many of the enemy. The Uruks were easily put to death, their armour was weak and poor and with the help o the dwarves of Erebor they would fall quickly. When Belegond had used up the last of his arrows and had none to spare but the ones of Mithril he hurried down to the aid of his companions, daggers drawn. He kicked the first Uruk he met in the chest and then plunged his left dagger into the heart of another. He kept fighting, but as he turned to one large Uruk, probably a leader he felt himself knocked to the ground. He fell face first into thick mud and could taste blood in his mouth. He rolled over and saw a sword coming towards his face, he rolled again and this time the Uruks head joined him on the floor. Its body collapsed revealing Kili smiling from ear to ear.
“What would you do with out me eh?” he chuckled while dodging an axe swing from a small Uruk and the skilfully slicing through its torso with his sword.
“I do not know,” Belegond laughed as he got to his feet. His clasped his daggers and he and Kili went back into the fight.
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"...still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
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