Unlike the other floors, the lower ring was much quieter and rougher but it looked more organised. The air carried a mix of iron, smoke, and something faintly rotten.
It wasn't the same as decay, more of the smell of blood that had been absorbed into the ground and truly never disappeared.
The paths became narrower as they descended. A group of men stood near a wall, their gaze following them like hawks with their voices lowered when they passed by.
Atheline glanced at them, assessing them. Unlike the upper levels where it was completely dark elves here, there was a mixture of all species each situated in a corner or two whispering to each other.
It seemed the lower rings were where all the real ones gathered.
"This floor seems freer," he said glancing at Zelpher, who had been quietly walking beside him.
