The mountains to the south of the castle stood as the last visable memorials for the lives that had been lost upon its ivory grounds. Carved into the mountain itself was a hollow pathway and staircase that descended into the earth. Been so close the the stone covered with thin sheets of ice was surprising warm to your body. The passage way was lit with glowing stone that poked out periodically from the halls ceiling. " They are enchanted by the ancients. These were in place even before MY time," SIngear chuckled as she continued to venture down the steps. " All the Eladin that have passed are within the caverns on this mountain. Eladins never truly die, as part of us inherently holds the demonic immortality. So dependig on how strong our demonic side is will depend on how constant our form shall be within these caverns." The walls were clear blocks of ice, glimmering like mirrors by the light of the stones hanging overhead, and within the walls reflected images and shadows of forms, some much more clearer than others. They were the spirits of the Eladin, the face that had carved their history.