The ancient halls of Erebor ran deep. They curled and they twisted burrowing further into the ground until finally they arrived at a giant hall, a giant sparkling hall. The hall wasn't' particularly magnificent in and of itself. Well, it is large but largeness is not strictly equated with magnificence as dwarves and hobbits alike will inform you. Rather its magnificence factored on the stacks upon stacks of gold and gems that filled the rather large hall.

Certainly this gold adorned hall was a sight to behold, and yet very few beheld it in its current state. Indeed its occupant now currently lay in a corner; a sleeping dragon. This was the usual state of affairs for the current Erebor, a once mighty political stronghold, now a reclusive hideout for our hermit dragon. The dragon rarely stirred. It slept away the days and the nights doing something rather undragon-like... dreaming. It dreamt of outside, dreamt of the sky in particular it dreamt of flying.

Perhaps this is a rather shocking tidbit for those who have heard tales of Smaug the Terrible, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities. A dragon motivated by greed and spite. That laid waste to Erebor and the once great kingdom of Dale. But all things must die. Within the great hall, a little distance away from the sleeping dragon, were the decaying remains of Smaug. So who is our mysterious sleeping dragon?

Well, very few dragons as greedy and clever as Smaug completely abandon their treasure hoard even when facing something as finite as death. Dragons are traditional creatures; they like to leave a legacy. In most cases this comes in the form of the dragon-sickness, an illness of the mind which culminates in acts of unspeakable violence between the hopeful treasure claimants. However, Smaug could not abide this notion that dwarves would ever again reclaim one morsel of his gold. As such when he finally succumbed to death he did not entirely abandon his lot. Rather he left his hoard in the possession of an heir. An heir who currently slept completely unaware that at this very moment, but a few leagues away, marched a band of dwarves and a singular hobbit to reclaim Erebor, a mountain which he currently occupied.

Erebor was in their sight.

"I do believe the worse is behind us!" said an optimistic Bilbo Baggins.

This is a short prologue just setting the scene! The next chapter should be longer and more action-based! Thanks