Jerod snorted, coming back to full consciousness from the half, hazy dreaming he had fallen into, having finished his meal and spending much of his time drinking before the small group arrived. He barely remembered Thalia waving, which he had returned easily enough, downing another drink after who knows how many had been prior to that one. The barbarian was with her, and some noble came waltzing in afterwords. And even then, while they were talking, the spear woman who had aided him when the first crossed paths with the Champion of Naga entered and started wolfing down food, and he gave her a respectful nod in her direction. But she seemed rather determined to keep to her eating, and he rose, mug in hand as he wandered over to the small group gathering so far.

"Ach, would ja look who drug themselv's inta th' mess 'all. Bluebloods, a knightess, lancelot lassie, an' a [i]Feroxian[/i] na' less. Wha' dragged yer frigid arse out of th' far north, eh? And wha' bring's one o' ye blue bloods down 'ere t' slum it wit' us common folks?" Jerod grinned, clearly just giving the lot good natured ribbings. Well, not so good natured for the Feroxian, but he hid that well enough by mixing it in with the rest of the joking and ribbings being give to the others. But Jerod took a good natured draw from his mug, emptying the rest of its contents before glancing at the others, including the lance wielder in the question. "I ca' grab ye drinks if ye wan'. Gon' be grabbin' m'self another mug soon."