The priestess looked over at both the warlock and the rogue, her gaze lingering just a little longer on the latter. She tried to keep the thoughts out of her mind, but something about him made her really like the man.<br/><br/>"Well, I certainly won't mind. If you think you're in good hands, who are we to decide otherwise.. And I think I would like to have a drink as well, the whole happening from before with the winevendor still left me as thirsty as an undead can be.." A soft tremble rised up on her spine, and she hoped the rogue wouldn't have felt it. She wanted to remain her fearless and steady posture around him, though she knew it would be a lost cause..<br/><br/>A gentle smile pulled the corners of her mouth up, as she glanced around to see what the others would decide. They were all strangers to each other, but somehow in the last couple of hours a little more then only strangers. She actually started to care about the deathknight, her being in the same position as she was. An untrusted and unworthy member of the forsaken, so it seemed. Meeting people that seemed to have different opinions on that matter, or just simply didn't care. It was refreshing, and it made her feel good.<br/><br/>"Lennart, I leave Vinadine in your excellent care, I'll be waiting for your jaw in the tavern.." Giggling softly of her strange choice of words she patted the little bag hanging on her belt, indicating that she meant stitching his jaw, as promised. Looking around to the group of people, she headed towards the crowded goblin tavern, just a few feet away from the group.<br/><br/>How in earth did she agreed upon going to a crowded tavern? She never went to places with more then two people, but then again, she never broke a promise... And as uneasy she was with the idea of being looked upon, and glared at several forsaken, she straightened her back and headed towards the bar.<br/><br/>"I will see you two later then, take care.."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>