Sent by Orlem as reinforcements to the prince, Tholpiel and a group of elves arrived too late. They passed through the same narrow passage, greeted by burning goblin corpses and a torturing smell. Then to a room filled with mutilated corpses, and from among them hobgoblins. Before finally reaching the throne hall which was as bloodied as a battlefield.
The prince did not have a single scratch on his body, and the only hints he had been fighting were the bloodstains all over him. They did found Sauldor battered with his broken armor, shattered sword and bruises. But when they had arrived, most of the wounds have already healed up, and had hidden from them the intensity of what the elf had gone through.
However, the one-sided massacre of an intrusion was not in any way a surprise, Meldor has done more unbelievable things, slew far more in a single sitting, and scourges that are far more formidable. What was a surprise was the presence of a goblin king, and his hoard of glittering things.
Goblin dens were a rare find, as rare as goblins under the command of a goblin king. The more common scourges, which can be found almost everywhere, were the tribal goblins, smaller in number and led by a tribal chieftain. And of course, with a smaller stash if not none at all.
Elves, who had expected a fight, instead arrived to a loot ready to be taken. The radiance by which the mounds presented themselves, appeal to the elvish fascination for silver and precious stones. As soon as they heard the command, the elves scoured the piles.
"My lord, we might not have enough chests for all the silver." Meldor was notified, the silver pile was of course the first to be noticed.
"Leave it behind, I shall hide this place until we have need of it." Meldor responded, polishing the Orchgond he had taken from the goblin king. Larger than his hands, and brighter than the lesser Orchgonds.
"Take only what you could use."
Thus, the elves begrudgingly ignored the pile of silver, a treasure which they love as much as the dwarves.
Fortunately, the other piles did not consist entirely of worthless metal pieces. Among the wares, were all kinds of smith works, collected for ages, stolen from several war bands that had encamped around the area.
Clanging noises replaced the yells and cries that had filled the cavern just a little earlier, as Meldor's retainers separated the usable from the useless. And having tasted of the fine elven smithery, they could not help but be critical of even what is excellent by human standards.
There were whole sets of chain mail and parts of plated armor. There were also spears, axes, arrows, and shields of different styles and sizes. However, most of the older ones have rusted, and those more recent have deteriorated. Partly because the goblins know not of how to properly store things, partly because human smiths uses lesser quality ingredients and employs inferior methodology.
Therefore, most of the elves settled with elven swords and armors that were likely stolen from elvish patrols that were once deployed there, back when Chaeld was yet incapable of defending itself. However, none were remarkable, and we're only good to use as spares for the more superior metalwork supplied to the prince's elven guards.
The loot disappointed Tholpiel, who was dazzled by the sparkling of the mounds at first sight.
"Not all that glitters is silver." he mumbled to himself.
All he had gotten were two swords, which he recognized were crafted for warriors in the lower echelons. Still functional and impressive than the swords of men, but not as intricate as the blade he had.
He was ready to abandon his search, when his keen eyes saw something peculiar on the other side of the hall. From among the silver pile, was a greater treasure, that might not have stood out to those with lesser senses.
He quickly went for it, climbing the silver mound, garnering the attention of everyone as the coins clinked. When he had it on his hands, the full beauty of it was revealed to him, and he was pleased. The design was foreign, and he knew not whether it was of elves or of men. Still, he considered it worthy, but he did not want it for himself.
He climbed back down and with excitement, approached Meldor who still had his eyes on the precious stone.
"My lord, I have found a crown befitting an elven king. For you to wear when you had seated in a throne in Crimson wood." he presented, a wide smile adorning his lips.
Upon hearing his words, the elves gathered, surrounding the two. On their faces were excitement and thrill, as they await for the response of their lord.
Meldor looked at everyone in the crowd, and his expression did not mirror that of his retainers. He took the crown off Tholpiel's hands, and clasped it on his own. He slowly rotated the treasure, inspecting what is engraved on the band.
"Mechalesh eld Olechesh Faeldim" he recited, and no one there understood.
"King of the Mechalites and the Olechites." he navigated the carved characters with a finger and showed them to the elves. "This crown belongs to another king, and this is not mine to wear."
"Forgive me, Lord Prince!" Tholpiel immediately went down to his knees. "My ignorance cannot be forgiven."
Meldor threw the silver crown back to where it was. He was not angry, and instead he chuckled.
"It can actually be forgiven. These groups of people have already ceased to exist a thousand years ago."
"Rise, Tholpiel." he motioned him to stand.
"I have no need of a crown, and I shall not proclaim myself king of the elves, until we take the Atherdaine and I sit on that Whitewood throne." he continued. "I shall be Meldor ElvenPrince, until that day or the day that I die."
It was a somber message, but it was received well by the elves. It reminded them of their pitiful position, but along with it, the work that is needed to be done.
"Hail Meldor ElvenPrince!" Sauldor exclaimed from among the crowd.
"Hail!" a chorus answered.