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"Erulon, give me a hand with this door! Quickly now!" The man hurried over, and the pair heaved the stone block back up into its place. Durin picked up a large rock and shoved it into the crack. The others helped, handing them blocks lying around the room. After Bali shoved the last into place, he stepped back.
"Back up! Weapons at ready! Battle positions. Steel yourselves! No matter comes through that door, you will stand your ground. We will live to fight another day." It was then that he got a good look at their new companion. He was young, but was built like a warrior, and appeared well-trained. The man was squinting, adapting his eyes to the light. Bali presumed that he had not seen daylight for weeks.
Slowly, the man stood. He glanced around at his rescuers, as if gathering himself before speaking. "I need a weapon."
Bali could not help chuckling. What was his name? Who cared! He was a fighter, and swords would do more than words in this situation. "Here you are, sir," said Eruantalon, who handed him a longsword. Erulon then pulled out his axe, a shining and beautiful instrument of death. He had not fought with it for some time.
Just then, a scratching sound was heard near the far side of the room. The dwarves began to turn, but Bali stayed them. "It may be a trick. Keep your eyes on the door; Durin, see where that noise is coming from." Durin investigated, and reported that nothing was there.
Then the door shook violently under a sudden impact.
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