Those red eyes traced the motion of his hand, but she didn't move to sit as he had indicated. She'd be patient for now, but if he babbled on about nonsense, she'd need a quick way to walk, especially with his aura of magic floating about his person. She didn't have access to magic herself, at least not like he seemed to have, but she could feel that ability from here. If she rejected him and he sought her out, it'd be an interesting showdown, of which she expected to win with the right preparation.

"...A fair exchange," He was saying, diving into an introduction. Ugh, boring. She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at his sappy story, though the shift in the air at his finger caught her eye for a moment. Which type of magic did this one specialize in? She forgot the names of the schools, but could remember back to her travels in this region before, and a flash of a memory came to her: The waving arms in the air, the words of power chanting freely, and then a tear in the fabric of reality, claws pushing their way through into their plane of existence. Was this wizard also a conjurer?

A slight sneer curled at her lip. Mind-flayers. She remembered the stories when she was but a child, a dangerous race to deal with but also a useful one if one was clever enough. All she had seen was a squishy and bulbous head, those tentacle appendages that reached for one's face with voracious hunger, and magic beyond most people's understanding. The drow had faced few Illithid during her time, but those she did encounter were not of a fond memory. These cultists that dared worship them were in over their heads; The octopus heads deserved to perish, not have their egos stroked further.

Cailyn summoned from his pack a message, an offering to show her what he spoke generally of. Five thousand for a cult removal? It wasn't bad, though she didn't really need that amount. Gold was always useful though, so she wouldn't say no to something that paid well. With the focus of Illithid lackeys, there was that higher potential for magical treasure or artifacts, which was also a fair bargaining chip for the woman. That sneer disappeared by then, and that precarious grip on the bottle lip loosened. The drow let go of that bottle, stepping up and around the table a little closer towards Cailyn. When she was able, she snatched up the missive, quick like, and scanned it over as he did her.

Indeed, the Duke called for adventurers and others to help reclaim the city from these cultists, and stated that reward of five thousand clearly. She swapped her gaze from the parchment to Cailyn once again though, the wizard finalizing his offer with his own personal goal. A magical trinket did sound entertaining, and with the danger presumed surrounding it, the woman was quite intrigued.

Yet...

Those bloody orbs narrowed at the mention of the word 'friend', but she didn't make a move towards him this time. It'd be a shame to be kicked out of the tavern after arriving so recently, and she doubted they'd enjoy the new bloodstains on the floor. Instead, she flung the memo into the air, a toss back to him and the table on her right side, as if it were merely an unwanted drawing from a child.

"And how many other 'friends' have you recruited for this errand?" Her eyes were piercing, boring holes if they could into Cailyn's own. It wasn't that she was against working with others, but being strung along by someone else's incompetence or hurried away from the potential hidden loot was something that irked her heavily. Besides, more people meant less share of the rewards. Why should she risk herself for a lesser amount of gold if there were more people? She could just go and do it herself at that point, even take the trinket he sought for her own. She had the skills to hide herself, she had the poisonous blades, healing items, and if things got too heavy, the concealment grenades and natural ability to summon darkness would help as well.