"Hmmmmm..." Sergei took another swig, before wiping what spilled out his cheek-hole. The first thing that crossed his mind was to ask for a story singing his praises, but that was rather impossible. Besides, Sergei told his war stories the best himself. And the mercenary wasn't quite in the mood for something bawdy, and blanched at romance. He turned the gold coin in his palm.

"Alright, knife-ears. Take this, and sing me a song about soldiers who don't come home." he flipped the coin through the air, aiming towards the elf's bodice.