The bartender leaves Elia to meet with Penn, tucking the mug under the bar on his way over and flipping his towel over his shoulder.

"Greetings, friend, anything I can get you?"

The old trader sitting next to Elia scratches absentmindedly at his cheek with a sound like a scrub brush being pushed across a floor. He picks up his drink from the bar and takes a swig, sloshing the ale around his mouth before swallowing and smacking his lips.

"So tell me, what is it you're after? Looking for a safe way out of town or something?"