The wraith immediately dropped his suspicious act; Aneleth convinced him of her authenticity. Bowing his head to the Mortal, he said, “Forgive me for such harsh words, Aneleth; I neither meant them nor meant any offense to you. I needed to know your intentions, as you needed to know mine, for bandits wander this area occasionally. Not two nights ago, I was nearly accosted.”
Waving his hand to the opening in the earth, he asked, “Now, then, shall we continue, and solve this mystery put before us?”
Aneleth nodded in recognision to the change of temperament of the other. She felt a sense of relieve he did not feel malice or anxiety. And still, she was the one who was taking the risk. As a young woman, with no one to help her if she needed assistance.
Curiosity made her eager. She wanted to enter, but without tools, without light… it would be silly indeed. “We need things if we want to descend into … that.” she said. “A torch, a shovel perhaps to clear rubble. I doubt the access will be easy and if we do not have ropes we may not be able to climb out again. Do you agree?”
"Mayheps you have things with you that could help us with this exploration?" She looked at the horse to see if it had bags that may hold climbing materials, torches they could make, but rope was not as easy to come by.
"Mayhaps I do? Much to our misfortune, I have nothing," the Nazgul responded with a shake of his head.
Then, with a sigh, he said, “Depending upon the grave, we may need none of those things. The Men of Cardolan buried many kings here, and over the ages, the burial customs change; if it is one of the earlier graves, ‘twill be simple, merely with a body and a few earthly treasures. However, if it is one of the later graves, ‘twill be a bit more complex and dangerous to enter.”
The wraith knelt and inspected the stone he and Aneleth uncovered; it seemed to be a marker worn with age.
"Can you read this?" Nazgul #7 asked; the scratches in the stone did not resemble the hieroglyphs of Numenor, his long-lost home.