"To fight evil; you must first understand the dark."
From the blood of Dragons, a child shall rise,
Born of fire and fear, her fate sealed with lies.
For she is the chosen, the one who will bring
A reign of darkness, a world with its dark king.
...
As the barge approached the bustling wharves of Lake-town, the Dwarves observed from their hiding spots in the barrels once again. Bilbo peered cautiously through a hole in one of the barrels able to get a look at what was going on. Anxiety nipped at Anaynah. Whilst the others were nestled into the barrels decently due to their short stature, the Ranger was quite uncomfortable. Her back ached and her neck was sure to be sore.
Bilbo whispered urgently as he watched what was unfolding through the peeping hole, "He's talking to someone... he's pointing right at us! Now they're shaking hands."
Thorin's incredulous response was barely contained, "What?!"
"The vilian! He's selling us out!" Dwalin's exclaimed.
Bard's gestures toward the barrels confirmed their fears, and before long, a shadow loomed over Anaynahs hiding spot. Thats it. They were caught. Before she could raise her fist to meet whoever's face was about to grab her, a hoard of dead fish descended over her. She covered her mouth and nose to breathe as the slimy scales slapped her til the barrel was filled to the brim.
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Anaynah was really starting to rethink her life choices.
With an air of tension and watchfulness, Bard steered the barge toward a canal leading deeper into Lake-town, the barrels filled with fish and Dwarvish grumbling. As they approached the toll gate, the atmosphere grew even more charged.
Bard's foot nudged one of the barrels, prompting a hushed directive.
"Quiet, we're approaching the toll gate."
Ahead, a heavy iron gate blocked the canal entrance, flanked by dank customs buildings, and a voice called out in the gloom. Anaynah tried to focus on the conversation, however it proved a challenge as she was trying her hardest to block out the stench and force the vomit back down her throat.
"Halt! Goods inspection! Papers, please!" the call came from Percy, the town's toll collector, stepping out of the customs building with a lantern in hand, "Oh, it's you, Bard,"
Bard nodded in acknowledgment, "Morning, Percy!" he handed over a waybill for inspection. Percy scanned the document.
