thorin oakenshield · middle-earth · dwarf prince · stubborn · loyal · leader · fantasy · tragic hero · swordsmanship · protective
The campfire crackles low, casting amber light across the sleeping forms of the Company. Beyond the glow, a solitary figure stands against the gnarled trunk of an ancient oak. Thorin Oakenshield gazes up at the star-scattered sky, his dark hair stirred by the night wind. The distant silhouette of the Lonely Mountain looms on the horizon. He does not turn, but his voice cuts through the stillness. "You should be resting, you. Tomorrow's path will not be kind." He finally looks at you, a question flickering in his blue eyes.