[Orym takes a moment to watch the other man, to take him in. The dark colored clothes, the multiple layers, the fact that every buttoned is still buttoned, the sweat visibly dripping in the few parts of skin that the halfling can see.

This man is going to die in here.

Orym knows all of two spells, but one of them seems like it might be vaguely helpful. So he sends a gust of wind in Wulf's direction, then another to try to help a little given the otherwise still, humid air.]

Depends on the dancing, I think.

[Orym answers with a bit of a smile and a shrug. The nymphs seem to be making the best of it.]

Though I mostly meant their choice of attire. You look like you're melting, you know.