[ EU ] As Smaug flies overhead , razing Lake-Town to the ground , only one person can stop his wrath . The Dovahkiin readies for battle .

As Smaug the Golden tore through the night sky over the doomed Lake Town; a mad and shouting man bashed his way out of his burning cell. He looked around frantically for the exit to the sheriff's jail, after spotting his exit he swung and chopped his way out of the burning threshold into the darkness of the streets. Meanwhile, Bard fought Smaug fiercely, firing shots into his glistening hide, sharp jewels and gold spilling from the winged terror like a hailstorm. He had only to use the black arrow he had to end the fight and save the remnant of his home. 
 
 The stranger ran through the fire storm, picking up anything reminiscent of armor, his sword was thirsty and he wanted to feed it. He looked up into the red sky, still burning with the rage of fire. He followed the smoke trails from the fireballs coating the air. 
 
 Bard drew the black arrow, and lined up his target, he breathed in deep, just like a hunter would before taking the shot. Just as he was about to release the arrow, he was rudely barged out of the way by what looked like a wild orc. He stared wide eyed at the man now shouting bloody murder at his kill, wearing barely anything except a singed pair of trousers, a torn leather tunic and a bucket with drawn runes with charcoal. Two small plank shards were darting out of the bucket, making him look like a crazed warrior from Angmar. 
 
 `` Who are you?'' Bard questioned. 
 
 `` I am the Dragonborn, now stand back knave!'' The man shouted 
 
 `` Knave?'' Bard said. 
 
 `` FUS-RO-DAH!''
