Inez shrugged her shoulders and took a bottle of brandy from the liquor cabinet. The bottles were placed in odd little wells in the wood and then surrounded by cloth, apparently to prevent them spilling or breaking in rough weather. These northerners thought of everything it seemed. She took a pair of brass cups and poured a measure into each cup, setting on down before Alrik.

"It's your ducat," she told him with a grin and took a belt of the liquor. There were worse jobs than bodyguard work and it didn't seem like this would be particularly onerous. It was easier if she told herself she wasn't working for the same kind of money grubbing merchants who bankrolled Salazar. Alrik moved to pick up his own liquor but Inez slapped her hand down atop the cup. The tradesfarer looked confused and a little angry. Inez made a choking noise and grabbed at her throat, staggering back eyes bulging, face contorting into a rictus of pain. Alrik jumped to his feet eyes wide, only for Inez to snicker, her face returning to normal and her feet stabilizing. 

"Just getting in the mood, you know in case one of the crew decided to poison you," she grinned.