“Maybe grab a drink, while we’re at it...” P’rihnn says, hopping back down from his rock and charging ahead, throwing the door open and greeting the elezen - elven? - woman at the bar with a simple “morning! Or whatever time of day it is, I can’t tell.”

There’s no sun. How’s he supposed to tell if it’s day or night?”

One very brief conversation reveals that new customers are practically unheard of and their strange and foreign coins are apparently worthless. He’s not that desperate for a drink, so he turns to Felih with a small shrug - if he wants more info, he’s the people person of the pair.

“I’d be up for pest control if need be,” he says, as it seems that would be suitable payment, “but let’s figure out what we’re going to do first.”