Charynrae could work with her hands well enough, if the braids weaving through her hair were any indication, but not so well to pull off such sleight-of-hand. She supposed there were benefits to being companion to a thief; she was not quite sure she wanted to call him a friend, and in fact the concept was still strange and foreign to her. There had been people she had tolerated more than others in the Underdark, spent more time with, but friendship was not a concept that existed in the dank caverns buried in the earth. Everyone was equally likely to betray you.

That was not true. Family was the worst- although from what she had heard, that was not necessarily much different than surface families. Surface dwellers were marginally less likely to end up dead in such a situation.

“Well, that sounds far better than sleeping in brush again,” she said in approval. “Although I suppose there are worse places we could have had to camp out.

She murmured something akin to a thank you at the appearance of the tankard full of golden liquid in front of her. “Ironspur it is then,” she said before taking a sip, the sweet liquid welcomingly refreshing, especially after days out of civilization. “Do you know much about this Ironspur?”

The chatter around them was exactly as one would expect from a busy tavern- mostly loud talk from people who had had far too much to drink and showed no sign of stopping. No one was too rowdy, at least, although it wouldn’t have been unexpected. It wasn’t long before the waitress was back, carrying a tray piled with dishes and those dishes with food that smelled positively divine after days scrounging for whatever was available. There was plenty of variety- bread, pickled vegetables, cuts of meat, a hearty stew, cakes, and some kind of fruit pottage that Char eyed with suspicion.