Elrohir and his brother urged the group to the exit and surveyed the wreck in the first rays of dawn. The cave was collapsing inwards from the clash of metal against stone. Although the trolls had been subdued by elvish skill, their brutal onslaught had left a permanent mark. The swords were not as sharp; some blunt and some broken. Their supply of arrows almost at an end and their lamps now half in number. The rope was shredded to pieces and the elves were drained of precious energy.
The only intact part of the group were the horses, which were huddled together in a short distance from the cave, sensing danger, and now relieved to see their masters survive it.
After a quick appraisal of the group's dimished capabilities and injuries, the weary elves, deprived of sleep, descended the final slopes of the Misty Mountains.
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