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He slowly opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling of the cabin, letting out a weary sigh.
"Good morning, Reinhold," Thorin greeted as soon as he noticed the king waking up. "How are you feeling today, mate?"
"I feel pretty great," Reinhold replied as he stretched his muscles before getting up from the bed, but he knew deep down that dream was making him uneasy.
"Are you ready to get out of this hellhole, my friend?" Thorin asked with a chuckle, his azure blue eyes glinting mischievously.
"Of course. You know I can't leave without a worthy battle!" he said while repeatedly tapping his biceps.
"That's the spirit! Now, let's get some breakfast in ya. We have much to do today," the dwarf said excitedly as he led Reinhold out of the cabin.
The two walked together towards the mess hall, chatting amiably as they strolled along the corridor. As they entered the room, the dwarves inside immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed respectfully to the king.
Reinhold acknowledged the greeting with a wave of his hand and proceeded to take a seat at one of the tables.
"I hope you don't mind, but I already ordered breakfast for ya. I didn't want to wake you up too early, mate," Thorin explained as he sat down next to Reinhold. "You must be famished after such a restless night."
"Indeed, thank you very much!" Reinhold answered with a slight smile.
Thorin then gestured for the dwarves to bring out the breakfast, which consisted of a hearty spread of meats, cheeses, and freshly baked bread. A tempting scent crept into Reinhold's nose, causing his stomach to rumble.
"Dig in, my friend," Thorin said with a grin. "We have a long day ahead of us."
Reinhold eagerly grabbed a piece of bread and began to eat, feeling grateful for Thorin's thoughtfulness.
As they ate, the king couldn't help but notice something unusual among the dwarves present in the dining room. Some of them appeared to be quite young, barely in their twenties, while others were much older.
"Thorin, why are there so many children and elderly dwarves among your ranks?" the king asked curiously.
The dwarf sighed heavily, his eyes downcast. "We lost a large portion of our population during the attack on our city, Reinhold. Only a handful remained after many of the experienced individuals either perished or joined the spiders, much like my father did.
A solemn silence fell between the two as the reality of the situation sank in. With their numbers depleted and their morale shaken, the dwarves were at a distinct disadvantage against the seemingly endless hordes of spiders that had infested their homeland.
"By the way, what happened to the orcs?" Reinhold inquired with curiosity, remembering that the spiders were not the only enemies in this battle.
"They left, probably because the spiders were the stronger force. They never liked each other anyway."
"I see... Well, I'm glad they're gone. They are nasty bastards, those orcs," Reinhold stated, disgust evident in his voice as he recalled the brutality of the orcs he encountered during the past battle.
"Aye, indeed. But enough about them; we have much work to do today. Let us finish our meal and prepare for battle, mate. I have high hopes for us today," Thorin said with a determined look in his eyes, causing the other dwarves present to nod enthusiastically.
After finishing their breakfast, Reinhold, Thorin, and their companions embarked on preparing for the day's mission. The first stop was to check the availability of supplies and strategize for the upcoming fight.
Upon entering the armory, they were met with a scene of utter chaos as dwarves ran about frantically gathering weapons from shelves and boxes, while others hurriedly sharpened and polished blades and armor. The dwarves were clearly eager to get out there and show the spiders a thing or two.
Reinhold watched as a group of young dwarves gathered around a table full of maps and charts, pouring over every detail with intense concentration. One of them caught sight of the king and immediately rushed over to greet him.
He bowed low and extended a map toward Reinhold.
"Good morning, your Majesty," the dwarf greeted respectfully.
"Morning. What's all this?" Reinhold inquired as he took the proffered document and scanned its contents.
"These are detailed plans for our escape route, Your Highness. The scouts reported back last night and provided us with information regarding enemy positions and movements," the dwarf explained eagerly, pointing to various areas on the map.
Reinhold nodded as he followed the scout's explanation, taking mental notes of everything he was being told.
"Excellent work! I appreciate you and your men doing such excellent work," Reinhold commended, impressed by the thoroughness of their planning. "Now we must devise a plan for our formation, gentlemen. Any suggestions?"
"Yes, I have one," Thorin replied confidently. "I recommend utilizing a square formation as we advance. Knights wielding shields and spears would form each side of the square, ready to defend against spider attacks. No matter where the spiders strike from, a formidable wall of spear-wielding knights will meet them. Additionally, dwarves equipped with firepower can position themselves in the rear lines to showcase our toys."
The king and his companions listened intently as the young dwarf continued to explain his strategy. After discussing further details about how best to utilize their resources, they finally settled on a plan that would hopefully give them the edge in this journey.
Once everyone agreed on the strategy, they immediately began the process of training and preparing the soldiers for the formation.
After a few minutes of searching, Reinhold spotted Thorin and several other dwarves standing near a pile of crates containing various pieces of equipment.
They seemed to be discussing something quite important, judging by the animated gestures they made while conversing.
When Reinhold approached them, they all fell silent and stood at attention.
"Mornin!" Reinhold greeted them with a friendly wave. "Please forgive me for interrupting, but could you please explain what exactly you're working on here?"
"Certainly, sire." A dwarf stepped forward, his expression grim.
He pointed to a stack of crates labeled "explosive charges" and motioned towards another pile filled with coils of rope.
"These materials will be used to rig the gate into the city. We plan on collapsing them once everyone escapes."
His eyebrows shot up in surprise as Reinhold turned his gaze back to the piles of supplies. He hadn't expected that kind of tactic from the dwarves, but he supposed it made sense considering their situation. If they could destroy the entrance to the city, then the spiders would be trapped here.
However, it also meant that anyone remaining behind wouldn't stand much chance of surviving. It seemed like they'd rather sacrifice their own people's lives than risk letting even a single one of the spiders slip through the gate.
Reinhold sighed inwardly, shaking his head slightly. He admired their resolve, but he still hoped that they wouldn't actually have to resort to such extreme measures.
The clang of metal on metal filled the air as the dwarves worked with precision and skill, their focus unwavering as they hammered, welded, and polished the intricate pieces of armor. While some were busy melting down old armor to recast into new sets, others were meticulously engraving designs and runes onto shields and breastplates.
The smell of burning coal mingled with the earthy scent of leather, creating a comforting atmosphere amidst the busy activity.
An elderly dwarf with a long white beard sat in a corner, meticulously sharpening swords and axes with practiced ease, his years of experience evident in every stroke of the whetstone. Everywhere he looked, there was a sense of camaraderie and purpose among the dwarves.
They joked and laughed as they worked, their unity evident in the way they moved and collaborated with one another. It was clear that each piece of armor crafted in this armory was not just a job to be done, but a labor of love and dedication to their fellow companions. As he watched, a sense of admiration and respect filled him, knowing that these dwarves were the backbone of their army.
Some were busy sharpening swords and spears for his knights, ensuring that they'd remain effective in combat. Still others were packing bags full of rations for the journey ahead.
As he watched the dwarves go about their tasks, Reinhold couldn't shake the feeling of sadness and regret that washed over him as he realized that these brave souls were likely sacrificing not only their homes but themselves for the greater good.
The grim reality loomed large—not all would emerge unscathed from this perilous journey. Some would fall victim to the horrors that awaited them beyond this room's gate.
But despite the odds stacked against them, they remained steadfast and determined to fight back against an overwhelming force of evil. This courage alone was enough to inspire Reinhold to continue pushing forward.
The unwavering determination displayed by the dwarves served as a poignant reminder to Reinhold of his past battles alongside Thorin against the orcs. The dwarves' resilience in the face of adversity served as constant reassurance to Reinhold that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, he was not alone in this quest.
He had friends who would stand beside him through thick and thin.
As they prepared to head off on their mission, Reinhold glanced over to where Thorin had been previously standing. He spotted him leaning against a wall, staring absently into space.
Reinhold frowned slightly before striding towards the dwarf, placing one hand upon his shoulder as he sat down. Thorin turned towards him, startled by Reinhold's sudden touch.
"You okay, Thorin? You seemed distracted," Reinhold asked with concern evident in his voice, studying Thorin closely for a sign of distress. "Is this task burdening you too much?"
"No! No, it's fine," the dwarf assured him quickly, straightening up and giving Reinhold a small smile.
"I'm just...wondering how long it will take to reclaim this city," he added with a slight shrug. "And whether I can live long enough to witness the prosperity of this city once more." he murmured under his breath, almost too quiet for Reinhold to hear.
But the king did pick up his words. He gave Thorin's shoulder another reassuring squeeze and smiled warmly at the dwarf.
"Don't worry about that, my friend. For as long as the kings draw breath, the very essence of the city will not perish!"
Thorin's azure gaze flickered with emotion as he stared at Reinhold in silence.
Reinhold could see tears glistening in his old friend's eyes, and he felt his throat tighten at the sight. It was rare for Thorin to express any form of weakness, and it pained Reinhold greatly to see the strong dwarf so distraught.
"I am no king, Rein. A king perishes with his realm." The dwarf spoke softly, dropping his head and closing his eyes briefly.
His gaze hardened, becoming cold and distant as he regarded Reinhold.
"I may be the son of the king, but I have no authority here," Thorin continued, his voice low and steady now. "I do not deserve to hold power of this city anymore."
There was a brief pause as Thorin's words sank in for Reinhold.
Then, suddenly, Thorin began laughing bitterly. "Ha! Look at me, acting so high and mighty, when I should be ashamed of myself instead." He spat out angrily, clenching his fists tightly. "I'm nothing more than a coward!"
Reinhold frowned deeply at that statement and placed both hands firmly on either side of the dwarf's shoulders.
He leaned forward and looked directly into Thorin's eyes as he spoke sternly.
"You're wrong, my friend; I know that you're anything but a coward. Do not sell yourself short, Thorin. I've witnessed the bravery you possess time after time again throughout the course of our long friendship, and it continues to astound me every single day," he stated confidently, holding Thorin's gaze firmly.
"You are far braver than you believe."
"How can you be certain?" Thorin demanded, glaring defiantly at Reinhold.
The king simply grinned broadly, releasing one of the dwarf's shoulders and lightly patting him on the back.
"No weak person ever claims to be weak, my friend. They are just trying to get stronger," the king replied simply. "That alone proves that you are worthy of being considered brave in my eyes."
Thorin stared at Reinhold for several seconds, blinking rapidly as he absorbed those words. Then, slowly and hesitantly, he returned Reinhold's smile, albeit slightly weaker than usual.
After a moment, Thorin's lips twitched upwards into a genuine grin, and he nodded once in agreement.
"Thanks...thank ya, Reinhold. Ya always seem to know what to say when I need it most," he admitted, his voice soft yet sincere.
Reinhold laughed heartily, patting his shoulder.
"That's because I know you well enough, my dear dwarf," he replied cheerfully.
Thorin chuckled softly at Reinhold's remark and shook his head.
"Yar too kind, my liege. I appreciate your support more than ya could possibly imagine. Without it, there'd be no hope left for me and our kingdom."
The dwarf then paused, his expression shifting from gratefulness to determination as he continued speaking with renewed confidence.
"But enough talk of such dark times... Let us prepare for battle, my king! We must not delay any further!"
Reinhold grinned broadly, nodding once in assent before standing up straight. He reached out his hand toward Thorin.
Thorin stared at Reinhold's hand for a long time before finally accepting it in his grasp. As their hands clasped together, Thorin felt a surge of warmth and connection that he hadn't experienced in years.
It was as if a long-lost part of himself had been rediscovered, buried beneath layers of hurt and pain. Reinhold's touch felt steady and reassuring, like a lifeline in a stormy sea.
And so, with a firm grip and a newfound sense of resolve, Thorin finally allowed himself to let go of the past and embrace the future that lay ahead.
"Let us go forth and get out of this hell, brother!" He shouted hoarsely, squeezing Reinhold's hand tightly.
