Smaug

The march to the Long Lake began in the early hours of the night as the sun was just beginning to set. Narzug led his army with a firm gaze and unyielding determination. The icy air was filled with the sound of marching drums and the rhythmic pounding of thousands of orc feet as they made their way through the forested landscape.

Narzug knew that the Battle of the Five Armies was of crucial importance. He had his own agenda. Azog was a useful ally for this battle, but Narzug already had plans that extended beyond this alliance.

Tragar marched closely by his side. "We are on the right track, my master," said Tragar, pointing to the map they had studied carefully. "The Long Lake is not far off. Azog's troops should soon be in sight."

Narzug nodded. "Good. Keep the men moving. We cannot afford any delays."

The march was tough, and conditions became increasingly difficult as they approached the Long Lake. Storms swept over the land, and temperatures dropped. But Narzug's men were trained warriors, used to hardship and the whips hurrying them. They pressed on tirelessly, their determination unbroken.

On the third day of their march, they finally reached a hill from which they could overlook the Long Lake. The vast, slightly frozen lake stretched out before them, and on the opposite shore, Narzug could see the campfires of Azog's troops. It was an impressive sight—the united orc tribes, ready for the impending battle.

Narzug gave the signal to halt, and his troops set up camp while he surveyed the situation. Tragar stepped to his side, awaiting his orders.

"We will make camp here," said Narzug. "I want the men to rest and prepare. Tomorrow we will join Azog's troops and discuss our plans."

The night was cold and clear, and Narzug could see the stars shining above. He spent the hours walking through the camp, talking to his warriors, and boosting their morale with cunning propaganda.

The next morning, Narzug's army was ready. They marched around the lake, their armor gleaming in the morning light, and their weapons sharp and ready for battle. Narzug led his troops with a steady hand, his eyes always fixed on the goal.

As they approached Azog's camp, they were met by a group of warg riders. Azog himself stepped out of his tent and greeted Narzug with a curt nod. It was not a friendly gesture but one of respect and mutual understanding.

"Narzug," rumbled Azog "You made it."

"We are ready," replied Narzug. "Let's discuss how we will proceed."

The two leaders withdrew to a large tent, accompanied by their chief advisors. The map of the upcoming battlefield was spread out before them, and they began to formulate their plans. Narzug knew they would be facing a formidable alliance of dwarves, humans and elves, and that coordinating their forces would be crucial.

"The dwarves of Erebor and the elves from Mirkwood which our spys spotted are our main targets," said Narzug, pointing to the positions on the map. "We must break through their lines and force them to scatter."

Azog nodded. "My warg riders will attack the flanks. Your infantry should break through the center and disrupt their formation."

Narzug and Azog spent hours refining their strategy. He learned that Azog didn't had the trolls and gundabad-bats like in the movie and he was kind of happy about it. They both knew that their success depended on their ability to act as a unit, despite their differing interests and ambitions. However, Narzug was aware that his true challenge lay in staying alive. The outcome of the battle was not that important for him.

Once the plans were finalized, Narzug and his advisors returned to their troops. The orcs were ready, their weapons sharpened and their armor reinforced. Narzug felt the tense anticipation in the air, the crackling of the imminent battle.

"Brothers!" cried Narzug as he stood before his men. "Tomorrow we fight not just for victory, but for our future. We will show our enemies what it means to face the orcs. Fight with everything you have, and let us seal this day in blood and glory!"

A thunderous roar rose from the ranks of the orcs, their determination and courage palpable. Narzug knew they were ready, and he himself was determined to do everything to ensure success in his plans.

The last night before the battle began.

The night was still and clear as Narzug stood in front of his tent, looking out into the darkness. The camp was quiet, the orcs either sleeping or preparing for the upcoming battle in silent concentration. Narzug felt the tension in the air, an electric charge that permeated every movement. Suddenly, a distant, deafening roar broke the silence, causing Narzug's head to jerk up. On the horizon, above Erebor, he saw a gigantic, shadowy figure rising into the night sky.

Narzug squinted and recognized the enormous dragon Smaug, whose scales gleamed in the moonlight. Smaug, the terror of the North, flew majestically over the mountain and headed directly towards the Long Lake. Narzug watched in awe and anticipation as the dragon bridged the distance with powerful wingbeats. A mixture of awe and fear welled up within him. He had seen the dragon in the movies, but it was nothing compared to the reality.

"Smaug is like a force of nature. I can feel the beats of his wings from here!"

Suddenly, a massive fire burst illuminated the night as Smaug unleashed his fiery breath on the lake town. Narzug could hear the screams of the inhabitants as the fire consumed everything in its path. The houses and buildings of the town ignited like tinder, and within minutes the entire city was a blazing inferno. Narzug could feel the heat even from a distance and smelled the acrid smoke wafting over the water to him.

Smaug circled over the burning town, his eyes glowing with unbridled rage and lust for destruction. Narzug understood that this was the peak of Smaug's wrath, a cruel act of revenge. He watched as the dragon targeted the largest buildings with precise cruelty, reducing them to rubble and ash with his fiery breath, leaving the desperate people no chance to escape.

But then, at the height of the destruction, Narzug noticed movement on one of the remaining watchtowers. A lone archer stood there, brave and determined, aiming a black arrow at the dragon. Narzug's eyes narrowed as he watched the scene. The archer seemed to be waiting for something, a perfect moment. Suddenly, as if in a vision, Narzug saw the arrow fly, heading straight for the dragon.

The black arrow cut through the air and hit Smaug with incredible precision at a wounded spot on his chest, where a scale was missing and the unprotected skin exposed the dragon's heart. Narzug held his breath as Smaug let out a final, desperate roar. The dragon stumbled, his mighty wings flapping erratically, and his body began to spiral fatally towards the water.

With a mighty splash, Smaug fell into the Long Lake, water spraying in all directions and creating waves that reached the shore. The flames on the water's surface gradually extinguished, and silence spread. Narzug stared in disbelief at the scene, the massive, lifeless creature floating in the water before him. The movies really couldn't do this scene justice.

The lake town was in ruins, and Narzug knew it was time to begin executing his plans. He looked at an orc in black armor, who nodded at him. Then, twenty orcs disappeared into the darkness of the night. Their mission: to carry out Narzug's secret orders, known only to Narzug and themselves, apart from Morgash.

By now, the entire camp was up, but no one noticed the orcs' disappearance.

"Quiet now, get some rest again!" commanded Azog. "This won't change anything about our plans. Tomorrow the last remnants of Durin's line will lay destroyed and broken at my feet. We march with the first rays of the sun!"

Narzug hid his excitement well.

"Now I just hope the orcs can carry out my orders correctly. My greed for Smaug's heart practically burns my mind. In a few days I'll know more, but I can hardly wait."

The rest of the night was quiet.

The next morning, with the sun glistening over the horizon, the troops marched to the chosen battlefield. The plain before the main entrance of Erebor. The combined forces of the orcs moved like an unstoppable wave, ready to overwhelm anything in their path. Narzug knew whats comming. But he was ready. The war was imminent, and he ready to destroy his enemies and shape his own future.

They stopped on the surrounding hillsides overlooking the future battlefield. They could see a mixed army of elves and men taking position in front of the gate and talking with the dwarfs inside.

Narzug watched the events unfold before the main gate of Erebor. The dwarves who had barricaded themselves in the mountain seemed to be in heated discussions with the representatives of the human-elven army. Narzug could see the tensions rising between the parties, the gestures becoming more vehement, and the voices louder.

Suddenly, a new movement interrupted the scene. On the horizon, another army appeared, quickly approaching. It was a dwarf army from the Iron Hills, led by Dáin Ironfoot. The newcomers marched in precise formation and soon reached the battlefield. The arrival of these reinforcements exacerbated the already tense situation.

The disputes between the humans, elves, and the dwarves already present quickly broke into open hostilities. Narzug could hear the first blows and the sound of metal on metal as the fighting began. The elves drew their elegant swords, the humans raised their shields, and the dwarves from the mountain wielded their mighty axes.

Narzug watched like an excited kid. He knew everything, but seeing it in real live, rather than on the movie screen was just to cool.

With a loud war cry, the dwarves from the Iron Hills charged into the fray, their hammers and axes swinging in deadly arcs. The elves tried to hold their lines while the humans fought desperately to defend their positions. The battle raged in full force, and Narzug watched the chaos with keen eyes.

He saw the alliance between humans and elves crumbling as the dwarves fought with relentless fury. Arrows flew through the air, shields shattered, and the ground trembled under the heavy steps of the combatants. Blood soaked the earth, and the cries of the wounded echoed across the battlefield.

Narzug knew that this 'unexpected' conflict would happen and play into his and the orcs' hands. The united forces of their enemies were now divided and weakened. It was the perfect moment to strike.

He shouted: "Blow the horns for the attack!"

And with the loud orc horns that resounded and drew glances to the surrounding hillsides, Narzug thought: "And so it will begin... The Battle of the Five Armies!"