The flas flickered and the charcoal occasionally crackled, causing the light to dim slightly. In the burial chamber, light and shadow intertwined as Little Roman sat alone by the fire, her face reddened by its glow. For so ti, she watched with interest as the sparks drifted upward towards the ceiling of the cave with the rising heat, her sparkling eyes following their movent up and down.
It had been an hour since the chamber collapsed, and the wizards spent at least half an hour opening an air passage, only then were conditions right to light a fire. The rchant Lady strung the graveyard moss onto spits—who knows why she carries such things along with her, but Brand knows her little leather bag always contains a full set of outdoor supplies from flint pieces to a sewing kit. The flas crackled as they roasted the graveyard moss, an ingredient used by witches in the Amber Sword in their foreknowledge potion (Perception 2 lasting 10 minutes). Whether from any aspect it looks more like grey lichen, but Roman stubbornly believes it is a mushroom.
In any case, if the rchant Lady says it's a mushroom, then it's a mushroom.
Char certainly felt embarrassed to ntion that the future Lady burned away two Gold Coins and could only pretend not to notice, otherwise the best outco would be an invitation to eat graveyard moss. Our wizard doesn't believe his physical vitality and poison resistance are better than his Lord, so he wisely refrains.
However, Char also wondered like everyone else why his Lord announced his relationship with Miss Roman early, yet the two didn't seem like a marital couple; this was quite puzzling, as in Vaunnd nobility it was normal to have a wife by fifteen, soone Brand's age who's still unmarried isn't extrely rare, but practically nonexistent.
Char also, mischievously at tis, privately wondered if his Lord had so issues in that regard. In fact, he as a knowledgeable Highland Wizard just happened to know so ancient Herbalism recipes. However, Char wouldn't dare bring up this matter in Brand's presence, he had an intuitive wisdom that if he did so, he'd surely end up locked in a small dark room.
Therefore, all this ti, both he and those below him referred to Miss Roman as the Lord's Fiancée; though this engagent had already lasted over a year, Brand might not notice, but outsiders found it sowhat odd. Char thought long and hard, deciding it was better to find an opportunity to tactfully bring it up to his Lord, lest so trouble arise.
The burnt graveyard moss slled sowhat like roasted shoes. Such a peculiar scent drifted through the cavern, remarkably the others seed collectively, casually, to pretend they hadn't slled anything. Char held a recently completed drawing from an apprentice, seriously contemplating the collapsed part of the burial chamber, the excavation progress was not going smoothly, the power of magic wasn't as strong as expected, and the key issue wasn't about digging a passageway, but preventing the sand and stones from above from continuing to tumble down.
To support nearly fifty ters of mountain with magical power, Char admitted he didn't have the capability. Fortunately, people outside had already connected with disha, once that Silver Elf Princess and Vampire Lady arrive, breaking through the passage would just be a matter of ti.
But it was precisely at this mont that Little Roman suddenly felt the ground beneath the corridor vibrate slightly.
She looked up curiously at the others, but it seed like no one noticed except her, Char did see the rchant Lady look up, which inexplicably chilled him to the bone, he braced himself to co over and ask, "Is there sothing wrong, Miss Roman?"
Roman tilted her head at him, paused for a while, her bright eyes seed to ask: Did you hear anything? But Char obviously lacked mind-reading abilities, so he had no idea what this lady was up to. He looked at Roman incomprehensibly, this rchant Lady blinked, changed her question, "Is Brand okay?"
"Lord is still down there, rest assured, he's very safe, nothing's going to happen," Char replied respectfully, fearing any displeasure or excessive happiness from this lady might lead to an invitation to eat graveyard moss. But with Martha above, Little Roman seed very fond of her roasted 'mushrooms' and didn't intend to share the burnt graveyard moss—she was determined to give them all to Brand, so she said, "Then it's nothing, thanks."
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