"Mmm... Thank you, darling." Drevayne accepted the Ale deftly, his fingers knowing his way around the glass far too well without even looking. His eyes stayed locked with hers as he leaned in right back at her. Even as he took a deep swig, he kept eye contact. "Normally I'd argue with you to charge what you charge the others, then we'd eventually settle on something in the middle, or I'd get kicked out in the midst of a barfight, but I've got business to attend to." His other hand pulled out a pouch from underneath the bar, setting it on the table with a suitable loud clunk.

"Keep the change, eh, darling?" He gave her a wink as he drained the rest of the ale in one smooth chug, then slid her the bottle across the table. He'd had a lot of time to practice his bar tricks.

And the little illusion that'd last another ten minutes of an extra 20 coins in the pouch that only contained the real price of that Ale? Pretty much the only illusion spell he still practiced.

Making his way of to Hargjorn's table, "Heard you're aiming to venture into business most lucrative and ridiculously dangerous. Heh." Sliding himself into a chair if no one made to stop him, he continued. "It's all good fun until someone's choking on his own intestines. As a healer of quite some skill, I'm sure you wouldn't mind me taking one of the shares to make sure you're still able to appreciate yours."