It all started in a rainy day in Shire. An idea that walking through the marshes, getting boots wet and to suffer all sorts of discomfort would actually be not quite an adventure that little hobbits should undertake. Unawares, the Evil eye watched carefully every step our little party took around the Northern regions and lakeside towns – quite pretty now that Smaug has been long gone.
What we thought, instead of suffering all the nasty hardships, to take a biscuits and afternoon tea at the pleasant lakeside town, and enjoy the legendary Darwen hospitality in the Erebor instead. Well, never really went that far, but idea was good, and far better than meddling with the temperamental nature of the southern folks.
They wished for war, let them have it!