[Mithadan]

The Elves proceeded down the tunnel wrapped in darkness as a cloak to hide them. Their lamps were shrouded and their torches extinguished. As they descended further into Moria, their footsteps seemed to become hushed and the faint musty odor of ages-old dust arose around them. Now and again as they reached places where the tunnel forked or a passageway crossed their path, they warily uncovered their lamps to examine their choices and to mark the way that they had taken.

At length, they reached an end to their tunnel. A broad corridor crossed their path running east and west. Upon illuminating their surroundings, they discovered that a layer of dust several inches deep covered the floor. "None have passed this way in many years," mused Elladan. "We must choose our direction. The way leading to the east seems to gradually descend while to the west, the floor is level. What say you, Elrohir?"

"To the east lie the Gates of Durin, though I cannot say if we stand at a level above or below them," he answered. "From that direction our mother was brought into Moria. Therefore, east is the route which we should follow."

None could suggest any better course. So after a brief meal of waybread and water, they trudged off following the tunnel to their left...