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The air inside Angmar was stuffy and putrid. A foul stench eminated from the inner chambers of the abandoned Kingdom. Moss clung desperately to the slimey stone walls, now crumbling with years of decay. All in all it was not a very nice place to be, a stark comparison to the light and fairness of Rivendell. The darkness seemed to grow thicker as the group made their way along the tunnel, by the time they split the dark was almost tangible.
The three elves, following commands from Arathorn, made their way up some stairs. Elladan lead the small group keeping his sword free in his right hand and the other hand against the wall. They climbed slowly and waited for the light of Arathorn's torch to disappear in to the growing darkness. Elladan raised his hand, barely visible to Elrohir at the back of the group, signalling to stop. With a sideways incline of his head Elladan signalled that they should make their way down into the depths of the forebodding place. "If any evil does still linger in this place, it will shun the light and therefore remain in the shadows below" he said quietly not wishing to disturb the air and signal their presence to anything that my be lurking in the vacinity. The light footedness of the elves meant they travelled along in relative silence.
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