In the Backroom...
Rorom nodded and winked at Navyri as she welcomed the 'volunteers' into the backroom. Then he took a seat. A few moments later, others filtered into the room, one young woman seated herself to Rorom's left, while another man sat at his right. Something about the man sparked a faint sense of familiarity in Rorom. Had he done business with that lad? He thought perhaps nels had changed hands between the two of them, but decided it was nothing. Rorom was always giving out nels to encourage commerce. Perhaps some of those nels had found their way into Abra's pocket by happenstance. It was of little concern.
Still, he kept his Grifter's Eye focused on him, just in case there was something off about his intent.
When the drinks and jug began getting passed around, Rorom took one sniff of the stuff and stuck out his tongue. "Old Gray's Coinpurse, what is this fruity swill?" He said in Rakahi, invoking a nickname of Charmadarst shared among the Biqaj. Then in common to Soren: "Got any Screaming Mer? Something with a splash of salt with some sting to it?"
Then, the woman with wings spoke to him. There was something strange about her, and not just the wings. He couldn't put his finger on it, but kept his nel close to his hand. Women that spoke like that were often enough a danger to wealth. Rorom wasn't stingy by any sense of the word, but like trade for like was a credo he tried to live by. He wasn't ready to hemorrhage nel for the sake of some temporary pleasure. Even so, he winked again at her, not wanting to be a bad guest. He spoke the following in Rakahi to her, "The Schooner is at dry dock. Sloop is out to sea with some crew members. I prefer mobility to size in most things."
When she said she liked to sail from time to time, he dropped the flirty undertones of what he was saying, and perked up. Always one to talk shop, he began talking in more serious tones, still in Rakahi, "What kind of ship she be? Maybe we can go racing sometime."
