Jack stepped forward to get a closer look at the constantly changing gemstones, but stopped as the ground began to rumble, Corc's destruction of the stone crypt door apparently having triggered something. The gemstones ceased changing colors, having settled on the hues they had been when Corc smashed the door, and the end of the rumbling was soon followed by a blast of icy wind. As the chilled air made contact with Jack he grabbed the sides of his cloak, taking the the loose-hanging cloth and hastily wrapping it around himself in a quick attempt to create a barrier between himself and the cold.

Wrapped now in his crimson cloak, he takes a brief look at the gemstones before approaching Corc and Fauve as the former was apologizing to the latter before asking the others about a light source. "Don't worry, Corc." Reaching back into his pack, he removed an unlit torch from among the assortment of alcoholic beverages and other items it contained and held it out, arm slipping through the cloak wrapped around him. "I always keep a few of these on hand." He kneels, planting the torch into the ground in front of him. His hand retracts back into his cloak, briefly sifting through his pack again before both hands emerge, flint in one and a piece of steel in the other.

Lighting the torch, he returns the tools to his pack and pulls it from the ground as he turns back to Corc and the others. "So, who's ready to pillage some ruins?"