Namir didn't pay much attention as the dwarf army descended down the hill above. Bain Ironfoot was a bugger and never listened to anyone who wasn't a dwarf, or even then. He was so pig-headed (yes, that was a joke since the dwarf was riding a pig into battle) that Namir had heard enough about him from passing traders and Gandalf's complaints. So he didn't pay attention when the ginger dwarf started speaking, too busy ripping up a shirt he had salvaged to use as bandages. Bilbo stepped up to his side and he bent down to let the hobbit help tie the fabric tightly. Namir hissed at the pain. 

"Bloody hell", He muttered, turning to send a snarl in the direction of the Erbor gates. None of the dwarves up there were looking at him, too busy watching the approaching army. 

"We should get out of arrow range", Bilbo suggested nervously. Gandalf was already striding through the ranks of elf soldiers. The hobbit hurrying to his side. He turned and waved at Namir. "You coming?" 

He stood and sighed as he rolled his shoulders. It hurt but it was nothing that would stop him from using his arm. He unsheathed his sword in one movement and sauntered lazily after the wizard. He didn't much care for the elf/dwarf grudge match that was about to happen. The kings could kill each other for all he cared. Up ahead, the two armies had come to a stop half a hall away from each other. Ironfoot was speaking, tone starting out polite and raising into a shout. Namir sniggered as he stuck his sword into the earth and leant against it. Ironfoot was rather funny. 

"Would all of you kindly just- Sod Off! All of you! Right now!"

"Come now", Gandalf raised his staff as he stepped out to speak. "Lord Dain". 

"Gandalf the grey", Bain did not look pleased to see him. "Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!"

"There is no need for war between dwarves and Elves", Gandalf stated. Namir had a feeling that the kings want war regardless wether there was a need for it or not. "A legion of orcs march on the mountain. Stand your army down".

"I will not stand down before any elf. Not least this faithless woodland sprite". Dain's heavy battle hammer was thrust in the direction of Thranduil, who didn't look pleased. The elf king looked rather offended at being called a sprite. Namir was laughing in the crowd at his face. The elf looked like he had eaten something sour. "He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then". 

Namir was half in favour of supporting Dain, until he remembered that the dwarves would probably want to kill him for destroying the Arken Stone and that Legolas would be upset if his father was killed. It seemed like he would be taking the elves side in this. (The things you do for love). Thranduil spoke up and Namir sighed. "He's clearly mad, like his cousin".

"You hear that lads?" Bain yelled to the company in Erebor. "We're on! Lets give these bastards a good hammering!" Cheers echoed from the gates and Namir stretched with a yawn. He didn't have to fight with the elves, it was not like he could do much. He didn't really feel like fighting anyway. The sword at his feet was tugged out of the ground and resheathed as Dain began to steer his warpig up and down the ranks of his army. The skin-changer turned and began walking away from the two armies and back in the direction of the Erebor gates. 

He had just reached the stone steps and sat down when a rumbling noise broke the air. He sniffed, a foul stench reaching his noise. "Orcs", the word was a disappointed sigh. In the distance, three creatures burst from the hills. They were worms with clawed heads in the shape of flowers, but full of pointed teeth. Perfect for destroying earth. Namir wrinkled his nose as he watched them wriggle in the air for a moment, bodies thicker than any tree he had ever seen, before they tunnelled back under the hills. There was a second of silence from the armies before a orc shout echoed down. Namir turned to look up to his right where the ruins of Ravenhill, a old watch tower high on the mountain, stood. A horn blared and he caught the sight of a white figure. Azog the defiler. 

Dain was moving his infantry round the elf army and to the front to face the holes the were-worms had left. "The hordes of hell are upon us!" He was shouting. "To battle sons of Durin!" As orcs came pouring like water from the tunnels. There were hundreds of them, more than Namir had ever seen in his life. All beastly and foul. He stood and unsheathed his sword, hair blowing in the breeze as he stood on the stone steps of Erebor. The dwarf and Elf armies between himself and the orcs. 

He swung his sword round in a lazy spin, the large blade moving as if it was nothing more than a small stick in his hands, as he debated what to do. The dwarves had stopped as the rocs charged. Iron shields forming a small wall. He saw the elves move before Thranduil had finished giving the signal. As the first orcs crashed down upon that dwarf wall, the first line of elves sprung over top, blades glinting. Then it all descended into madness. 

The skin-changer didn't move as he watched the battle. The dwarves and the elves were doing a good job at keeping the orcs away from Erebor. It was rather fascinating to watch the two races fighting together. The elves' grace and the dwarves' brutal force. A second horn blew and echoed over the valley. Namir tilted his head and fixed his cat eyed stare back onto the mountain above. He could just about see the figure of Azog above. There was a kite-like structure too made of fabric and wood. A third horn blew and the kite structure moved, two arms folding to make a new signal. At once, half of the orc army turned to march on Dale as multiple trolls emerged from the tunnels, catapults strapped to their backs. 

Namir turned and began walking towards the mountain. Azog was sending commands down to the armies below. He needed to cut them off. Steel sung as he sheathed his sword again and pulled off his trousers, stuffing them in the bag. He didn't stop walking as he shifted, speeding so that half way into a run, he fell forwards. Hitting the ground with paws and sprinting towards the base of the mountain as the valley became chaos around him. 

unedited