When her hand fell on his arm, he stiffened, but only for a moment. He felt oddly exposed in here, at least when he first walked in. The lack of rain and wind was almost deafening, but he knew this place likely saved them for the time being. He took off his soldier's coat, and tossed it onto the ground. "I don't know if I have mine either," he admitted, and knelt down to look through his pack. Moments passed, and thankfully he found them. But they were soaked. Almost everything in his pack was. 

He found a rag that seemed relatively dry, and immediately he began wiping down his broadsword to keep it from rusting. Her comment on the light brought some clarity in the form of lightning, and Cyrdic glimpsed the strange, ethereal room they found themselves sheltered within. Great statues of warriors he could only guess were Elves stood at the ready at the head of the room. One of them had been cloven in twain, however. 

He turned, and saw desks and strange devices made of exquisite wood, carved almost delicately. Two chests were within the room, as well as a central chest at the center, upon what looked like a sepulchre carved from the mountain stone. "I don't know..." he replied to her question. He'd never met an Elf, and had only seen a Dwarf a handful of times. But even he knew the two races got along as well as Imperials and Brettonians. 

Dwelling on it wouldn't change anything. He let out a haggard breath, and realized some of the rain water had gone down his throat when the door had opened. He cleared his throat, and gripped his sword. Taking one of the strange devices made of wood, he hacked it apart in one swipe. The wooden bits fell onto the floor, and he gathered them up, and began doing his best to dry his flint and steel, before he attempted to create a fire for them. 

"Check in my pack, there's some jerky in there." He told her as he worked. "It's Nordland stock. I'd give-" he jerked as he caused sparks to fly, and he chuckled at the small success. Still no fire though, "-my left leg for some good Talabecland Deer Jerky, but Nordland stock is not bad." As an afterthought, he added "bit tough though" as a warning. 

The room was certainly odd, an almost alien in majesty and perception. But Cyrdic was nothing if not pragmatic. They needed food and warmth first. Still, the curiosity of where they were still nagged even his bullheaded brain. "Good job finding the room," he told her gruffly. When the fire sparked to life, he fell onto his rump, and ran a hand through his brown, matted hair in satisfaction. 
[@Penny]