The Silvermount Palace in Lothern is extremely ancient. On the ground floor, where Prince Iltharis' chambers were, it appears as if it had not gone very much reconstruction in the past few centuries. Two thousand-year old tapestries hung on the wall, preserved by the magic woven into them. Busts depicting the faces of elves dead millennia ago but still remembered and honoured by their descendants lined the corridors.[1a]
Iltharis' Apartments[]
In the deepest room of Prince Iltharis' apartments, a glass cabinet case contains a hookah and sticks of incense. Often, he used a somewhat disreputable - not mention very expensive - narcotic with the hookah to fill the house with its scent, and so give him a suitable explanation for anyone who wondered why he had locked so many doors on the way in. Said-room had been built in more troubled times, intended to protect its occupant from assassins. It would take a group of strong Elves a long time to break down the door, the door's lock being very strong, as was the door itself.[1a]
Spoilers for Blood of Aenarion[]
Pulling aside the wall hangings in his room, a pressure pad can be found set in the wall. Upon pushing, a section of said-wall will rotate to reveal a secret passage beyond. It had been intended by the builders as an escape route for the occupants of the chamber protected by that very strong door. Closing the secret panel behind them, one will find a ramp leading a very long way down below the city. Down here, the air grows stagnant and musty, the way becoming darker. At the very bottom, at a seemingly dead end, one might reach up and find another pressure plate in a place that would have been too high to anyone to find by accident. Another secret door opens. Beyond it, a lantern hangs, waiting to be lit and taken. Here, deep below the earth, shielded by many spells and many tons of solid rock above, a potent magical artefact - a huge, silver mirror - stands in the centre of the chamber.
Iltharis activates the device by pricking his thumb, then smearing blood over the mirror's surface. The air grows colder as he chanted. At first, the mirror clouds over, as though misted by a giant's breath. Then, within its depths, a cold blue light becomes visible and the view of the mirror clears. However, it no longer reflected the prince, but instead a vast hall, dominated by a mighty iron throne on which reclines a huge, armoured figure. Said-figure seemed out of proportion to its surroundings, an adult sitting in a child's play. Its armour glows with dreadful runes but the glow of that fatal magic was no more terrifying than the glow in its eyes. And so it is that Malekith, the Witch King of Naggaroth, communes with his servant abroad.[1a]