Garrick smiled that grimy, tired grin at the comment, yellowed teeth not particularly shining as he took a large swig from the drink. "Fine quality swill, this. I'd takes it over the highborn muck anytime, less coin for it too." He would say as he glanced about the tavern, before returning his eyes to the naga. "As for why I'm 'ere, drunkard's gotta drink, and gold 'n silver buys it all. The noble's fancy their twice blighted games, yet their pancy littles fingahs don't much like the blood. There coin's good as any other blighter, and there's more for it when the intrigues boil over the cookin pot." Garrick would finish his drink swiftly, placing it lightly back on the bar as his eyes trailed about the tavern. He always assumed something wasn't right, especially when it was.