foul air

Olorin hoped a pipe might help him think;
no memory could guide him at this fork.
Some fragrant smoke might purge the evil stink
that couldn't be attributed to orcs.
The caves of trolls had their unwholesome smell
but something worse offends the wizard's sense;
What Pippin wakened in the guardroom's well
predates the coming of the Elves, and ents.
Each option leads to leagues of lampless gloom
without a stick of fuel to catch a spark.
If anyone's to get through Khazad Dum
one mis-step could be parlous in the dark.
Staunch friend and guide to dwarf, man, hobbit, elf
shows no regard for safeguarding himself.