All she needed to know about their employer, she learned when he tried to weasel out of contributing to the ship's repair costs by technicalities in the language. Though she doesn't let her face show it, her contempt for the man Surkil rose; his urge for secrecy warned her that a double cross or similar screwjob was on the table for them as well. And, Alizome also realized, now they knew what they needed to know to get the job done. If they were at risk of not getting paid anyway, why not preempt such a move? Especially since Surkil wasn't going to be going with them. To steal from a criminal- that was no true crime. Of course, she remained quiet. Plenty of time to plan on the road, and that left her with time on her hands. They were in a city now, more nearly Ali's natural habitat. Zorakatra hadn't replied to her status update, so there was nothing new back home and she was simply accepting her reports- not time yet to speak again. After a first trip to get herself somewhere close to clean and presentable again, a simple length of leather cord and some patient time with a dagger and fresh water transformed the elasmosaurus's fang into a necklace, nestling right between what cleavage she had- if nothing else, it might impress the natives. Once all that was done, she headed (naturally) to the nearest bar, settling in for a long few hours of work trying to find out what anyone knew of the region they were heading.<br/><br/>[[<a class="postlink" href="http://orokos.com/roll/118198">Gather Information (diplomacy)</a>:<span style="text-decoration: underline">1d20+10</span><span style="font-weight: bold">11</span><img alt=":lol:" src="./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif" title="Laughing"/>]]<br/><br/>With the elasmosaurus encounter so near, though, the elf's clearly more shaken up than she wants to admit to herself; her knowing smiles to other patrons come up like leers, gentle leading questions somehow twist into blunt and unsubtle demands that nobody would want to agree to, and the alcohol seems to be hitting her harder than it should be as well. A few hours later, Alizome is teetering on the border of sloppily drunk, well past where she should be for any sensitive tasks but not quite to the point where she'd be useless for any delicate work... and without learning anything of any real importance, to boot. Something in her head nagged her- something she should do tonight, while the others slept. Maybe she should tell someone else about it. But was... secrecy was important, too... maybe another drink would clear her head.