Balin's words in the lost pages from The Book of Mazarbul will recall:

"Our fateful journey to the mines of Moria began long ago with a hurricane of hot wind blowing down the Lonely Mountain with great force, as Smaug, a fire breathing drake from the north descended its greedful lust on the gold of Erebor, after laying waste to the town of Dale...

"...though men and elves forget, all Durin's Folk will remember that terrible time, when the gates King Thror boasted could withstand a hundred dragons, began to shake from the drake's horn battering and fire buckling heat, melting our defenses and exploding into a fireball around us..."

"...many were blown to the winds like ash from a smithy's bellows; never again to hear the horn, or hammer strike the anvil. We few still alive took refuge were we could after no amount of weapons could prevent Smaug's fearful advance into those hallowed halls..."

"...The pleadings to King Thror to lead our folk and himself to safety by Thorin, his grandson and Thrain, his son, was overshadowed by Thror's obsession on retrieving the heart of the mountain, the Arkenstone, only to loose it in a cascading quicksand of gold, which had robbed him of all reason and wisdom..."

"...pulling Thror free from that golden tomb, they lead our brave band of survivors escaped out the back door of the Lonely Mountain to escape the desolation that would be known as Smaug..."

"...where that fearful dragon took the throne of Erebor, our home, the heart of our great wound..."

"...Outside we gathered on the narrow rock ledge beyond the back door...

Mercy, Thorin, Thror, Balin, Thrain, Dwalin, Gloin and Oin

helping to usher our fleeing brethren down the mountain..."

"...all of us had emerged stunned, overlooking a wasteland of destruction which had vaporized the once verdant valley as quickly as the stone door had closed behind us and erased any trace of our passage..."

" But our journey was just beginning, as the Istari wizard Gandalf cleared our path..."

"...None were prepared however for the betrayal that faced us ahead when the Elves, pledged to come to our aid, turned their backs on our cries for help. Our home lay in ruins, and so did our alliance and faith with the races of Middle Earth. For now we knew we were on our own..."

"... The anger and rage of that moment would burn in the heart of young Thorin longer than any flames we left behind, vowing 'few may remember, but none shall forget'..."

...after our diaspora took us through the desolation of Dale and the boats we would board to find temporary refuge in Lake-Town, the elders of Durin's Folk found food and shelter for their people and gathered in Council, Thrain, Thorin, Thror and myself, Balin.

There we rested and sat solemnly to make plans for the long journey ahead,

unknown where it might lead us..."

"....But that is tale for another time."