Some of us managed to sleep, though not all at once—none of us were that stupid—but in shifts, resting as best we could in the cold, damp cellar. We had to get rid of the fire before we asphyxiated, though, while Ronan was awake, he was able to produce significant heat by magical means, that produced no such ill effects. Still, he couldn't just maintain a spell forever, as it apparently had a finite duration that it could exist under Ronan's control. He was pretty great at everything magic based, but even someone as focused as he, could not keep something this complex, contained within his palms. He managed to stave off the chill once in a while, and that was the most we could hope for. Maybe next time we should remember blankets.
Vance was the first to conk out, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his dueling blade never more than an arm's length away, and often even found to be cradled in his—loving? Embrace.
