Melkor did not understand the other Valar.  One song, and then they were all done creating, using only the ideas they’d already had in the Music.  But when he had sung, it was to show that so much more could be done, and the Music need never stop!  Even now, when he was limited and could no longer create life (curse the one who had taken it from him!) he could make new things, things he hadn’t dreamt of when all he’d sung was deviating from that sickly boring master plan…

For who could not tremble at the dread beauty of the orc, especially when his kin glimpsed that last trace of elf in him, twisted only enough that they hesitated to take his life, just the right amount of time for him to slip his knives between their ribs and twist them…

Yes, the orc was a marvelous thing, and the trolls had been delightful to breed, but no, Melkor could not stop.  He could feel it in his veins, that this would be another master-work, to take what was there and make something new, something that would make elves wail and men’s jaws drop at the majesty.

It was said that the salamander was blest by Aulë, to suffer the heat of the forge and not perish, through the stoking and the quenching.  Perhaps they did not live in the fire, as the tales had begun to tell, but they were resistant to the heat.

A small, slippery creature that could tolerate high temperatures was hardly a creature worth fearing.  Even if he bred them large, there was little fearsome about them…

Unless he could use that fact.  If they could survive the fire that no others could, what if they made that fire in their belly, breathed it out in a gust of flame… his foes would never see it coming.

Yes.  Time to create something new once more.  He would have his agents collect all the lizards they could find—and yes, salamanders.  So many salamanders.