They call me Mablung of the Heavy Hand. Do you know why I am called that? Once I went hunting, with Beleg, the great hunter, and Thingol, my king, with Beren and Huan, and we slew the greatest wolf that had ever lived. And from the seared guts of the wolf, I pulled out the Jewel. So bright, so heavy with doom--it drew my hand down to the ground. But I lifted it up and gave it to my king without hesitation. How else? It was a great treasure. Should I have known I was handing him his death?
I have lost Beleg, my captain, who I trained under in the days of my youth, and my friend. He left, without any word, for another's sake. I Iooked for him one night in Dimbar; he was not there. Later, I heard rumour of his death.
I have lost my king, slain unawares in the depth of his own fastness for the sake of the Jewel I handed to him on that fateful day.
Yet still I stand to defend what remains of Doriath. You will have to get past Mablung, dwarves, if you wish to get at its treasures.