The foul-mouthed part-breed wrenches her eyes from the scene at Ana's table and flashes the bar man a grin with white, white teeth. "You know, call it intuition but I think I believe you," she remarks, grinning wickedly. "You know, in more civilized sections of the world they might call that kind of behavior disreputable. Then again," here she sets down a grimy gold piece, smeared with grease, "I'm about to ask for as much cheap wine as that can possibly buy me, so I think I'll leave the judging to  whoever actually gives a shit."<br/><br/>The elf nudges her huge bag with a boot - well, nudge isn't the right word, but<i>kick</i>would imply that her boot has any chance of winning the fight. One of the rods pops up and she deftly catches it with one hand, pulling it up and out with the sound of sliding metal and the tinkling of the bells that hang from it. "As to my wares, good sir, I sell lightning rods for various purposes both beneficent and baneful. I've got some jars to catch the lightning in too. Does sir's inn have a lightning rod to protect it?" Her head tilts as her eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Or maybe you've some use for captured lightning in a conjuring or two?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>