Whilst the others played around and did their dumb childish acts of conversing and being nice to each other, Zana was doing something useful with his time. He had felt a breeze tickle his toes and, more importantly, his whitened beard. Strange things were afoot and he did not like it, especially when a breeze kicked up in a closed room, now that simply made no sense in the slightest. The old man gave a confused look at the wall and reached out to touch it, solid, and he knew the floor was solid for he could touch and stand on the ground. With a thorough inspection and guesstimation, he concluded but one thing, the ceiling was a farce, and where there was wind, there was a way out. Zana gave himself a pat on the back before shouting to the bumbling buffoons at his back.

[color=gray]”The roof is false ya’ gits!,”[/color] the gnome shouted at the top of his tiny lungs, hoping that would be enough to gain the attention of the distracted. He did not keep the information to himself purely on the basis that he wanted to get out of this place, quickly and efficiently. [color=gray]”A breeze tickled me’ whiskers and I know it comes from the ceiling because the walls are true and so it the floor, thusly, the ceiling cannot exist. Where there is a breeze, there is a way out.”[/color]