Varran, stalwartly ignoring the humid chill - hey, he'd had worse - waited a moment for a reply, his ears twitching as something about the reverberation of his voice was off... He looked up, frowning a little at the sight of the ceiling, or the lack thereof. He blinked. "Right, well. I've heard Sarantian architects were a little on the adventurous side, but that's new and pompous even for them.", he said to himself - quite loving the sound of his own voice, and if asked, the elf would have readily admitted as much, too.<br/><br/>He leaned back against the stone slab, looking up into the void, flexing just a little to make his body look just that little bit more muscular and desirable without being obvious - a skill he had honed to perfection, and so far it had proven useful on many an occasion, or so he liked to think, at the very least. "Aaaaanyone up there?!", he yelled, frowning as not as much as an echo returned. ".. No, I guess n--whoa!" Varran blinked, his muscles tensing instinctively at the trembling under his feet.<br/>"Okay, really, come on! I haven't even had breakfast yet and you're putting me through this?!", he complained loudly to the void -- despite the bravado of the master thief, he did not like what was happening -- even less so when the queasiness in the pit of his stomach truly kicked in, making him curl up a little, holding one arm around his undeniably muscular midsection.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>