Lynch looked for a long time and still couldn't tell the man's age.
However, the most eye-catching thing in the room for any passerby was the fireplace blazing in the corner; its soft orange glow brought light to this otherwise dark world tavern. That glow danced in your pupils, planting warmth deep into everyone's hearts—except for those Drow eternally swallowed by darkness.
Lynch didn't go to the counter but went directly to the fireplace. He pulled over a chair beside it and sat down, extending his now pale right hand towards the flames to feel the long-missed warmth. In that instant, he seemed no longer bound by the Underdark, no longer had thousands of meters of rock overhead, and no longer surrounded by prying eyes with ill will; the Mage returned to seven years ago, to the days of adventures with his companions, sitting by a campfire, roasting the prey Anna had shot back, relaxing after a tense day.
