One Old White Dwarf

Erebor March 19 3019

Take the gates, Take the gates! We are too many for them. Their front rank is broken. We kill as they fly. Do not let them escape. Their doors, their gates to the mountain, gape open. These men are weak, and the dwarves are outflanked. They march back but we will get there first. To the gates, the gates. Look, the Dale King is down. Take the gates, the Gates! Before the dwarves close them.

Wait, reinforcements come from the Mountain. No, not reinforcements, one dwarf, alone, comes out to meet us. Just one stands in our way. Just one old dwarf. His mail gleams and his cloak is rich, but he is alone, white haired, with a worn axe. By himself, what does he think he can do against all of us? One old, white, dwarf.  We laugh, we charge.  There is nothing to stop us taking these gates.