The Middle Earth Wonderers (The Hobbit/LOTR)

Chapter 11.

Mike, who had been standing silently beside me, finally stepped forward. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and protectiveness as he growled, "That's enough! You've got no right to reveal her identity like that."

The Great Goblin's laughter died down, leaving a cold, twisted smile in its place. "Oh, but I do, Warrior. It's always such a joy to expose secrets—especially the ones people would rather keep buried." His voice was laced with cruelty, as if the suffering he caused was just a game to him.

I could feel my face heating up in anger and embarrassment, but before I could say anything, Hunter stepped up, his usually gentle face darkening with rage. "You better watch your tongue, goblin. You won't be laughing for long." His feathers ruffled as his protective instincts kicked in, and for once, I could see the fire behind his innocent eyes.

The tension in the air was thick, almost unbearable, until the Great Goblin finally barked orders to his underlings. "Search them!" he commanded, his voice echoing through the cavern.

One of the goblins slithered up to Thorin, rifling through his things before yanking out his sword. As soon as it hit the ground, the Great Goblin's eyes widened in horror.

"The goblin-cleaver!" The recognition hit him hard, and his face twisted in a mix of fear and pure rage. You could almost feel the shift in the air—the same kind of dread that hangs just before a storm.

Before we could react, goblins lunged at us, their snarls filling the air as we scrambled to defend ourselves. I could barely get my weapon up in time as the first goblin came at me, its claws swiping wildly. Everything was chaos—shouts, clashing steel, the stink of goblin breath in the tight space.

And then, out of nowhere, a brilliant flash of light filled the cavern. Gandalf appeared like some kind of divine intervention, standing tall with his staff raised high. "Fight, you fools!" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos.

With Gandalf's arrival, the fight became a blur of dodging, slashing, and running. We fought tooth and nail for what felt like an eternity—30 minutes of pure hell. My arms were aching, and my breath was coming in ragged gasps by the time we finally managed to break free from the goblins' lair.

We stumbled into the cool air of the outside world, collapsing to catch our breath. But as we started regrouping, it hit me. "Wait... where the hell is Bilbo?"

Thorin, his doubt resurfacing, glanced around, already ready to give up hope. "Of course. Useless."

But just as he spoke, Bilbo emerged from the shadows, looking a little too calm. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Huh? How did you get past the goblins?"

Bilbo gave me a nervous laugh, clearly hiding something. "Oh, um, it was... it was tricky, but I managed to slip past them. I, uh, found something useful." He fumbled with his pockets, trying to act casual, but I wasn't buying it.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck, exhausted. "Eh, what matters is you're still alive." I shot a glance at Thorin. "But we need to get the hell out of here. That goblin bastard definitely sent word to Azog. He's not far behind us now." The weight of it hung in the air. We couldn't afford to waste another second.