[color=fff79a]    Y'Vanna chugged at the grog in her horn. This was all happening so fast. She hit the bottom and slammed it down on the table, wiping the froth from the corners of her mouth with her arm. She didn't slam it hard enough for it to make much of a sound, or come off as abrasive or anything like that. She had only been there for less than an hour and the prospects were already piling in. She had seen Neh'Miah around the tavern before on several occasions. She hardly knew much about him, [i]save for his tendency to get a big head about himself[/i]... but other than that he seemed fairly straightforward and harmless. The other she still didn't know at all, and the fiery redhead... well, Y'Vanna still didn't know how to receive her.

  [color=f7941d][i]"Aye, there be no guarantee on the loot but if it's there it'll be enough for us all to get good and square on all our affairs or endeavors."[/i][/color] she said. [color=f7941d][i]"But we're pressed for time, it's a fact that as sure as I know about others do too. Now, it was just discovered a few days ago and I got the tip-off from one of the crew that came back to pick up the crew that would oversee the project, sure enough. So, we don't have a lot of time... and again, eighty kilometers is a good swim no matter who ye be."[/i][/color]

   Her tone was a bit more robust and coy, now that the grog had slithered it's way into her veins. She would need every drop of courage the foul liquid could offer. Not only was the task at hand going to be insanely difficult logistically, she would also have to make sure that she could survive the rest of them as well... for the sea was no place for the meek, [i]especially amongst bandits and cutthroats[/i]. This was to be a treacherous trial by fire if she had ever seen one.  

      [color=f7941d][i]"It's Neh'Miah, right?"[/i][/color] she said, gesturing with her arm to take a seat. [color=f7941d]"Don't suppose ye be with a ship, do ye? Can't expect us all to float on that big head of yours now."[/color] she said with little filter as she poured the last horn from her pitcher. 

She hoped that Vargas would end his rant on Percival in a timely fashion so that he could render her another one. She could see them both through the latticed wall separating the room from the hallway. Vargas with his hands up in the air gesturing wildly, his face turning several shades of rouge as he began to work himself up good and proper. She finished pouring and tried to set the pitcher on the table with little success, as it toppled over and rolled slightly about. [/color]