It wasn’t hard for the halfling to spot two people of interests, one being a cultist she could try to talk with, and another rough looking fellow who no doubts was sent to spy on her and the others. The fact she was being watched now made Paris extra nervous and nearly breakdown, but she had to keep herself composed. First things first: she needed to get something to eat. She was legitimately hungry.

Paris went over and received herself some tough roasted veal suitable for a halfling (ie a lot) and went to a table to sit at. Namely the same table as Renbar, however she didn’t speak to him, instead seeming like she was just eating at his table. But she had one trick up her sleeve to pass along a secret message. Wiping her greasy fingers ima but of fleece in her pocket she casted minor illusion, creating a message for Rembar on a surface only he could see.

[i][color=7ea7d8]”Fancy a lady who could slate you appitite? Talk to the .[/color][/i]