He gives a gruff laugh. "Happily married, actually. Not that we don't partake, from time to time, but it's always her decision, not mine." He serves her the glass, with fresh ice; the liquid he calls water is even almost see-through. "Magic? Eh. There's the shaman circle, around here, and I understand there's a few alchemists set up, but out kind don't tend to take too kindly to magic. Go ask the elves; they'll have all the magic you might want." He will give her directions to the shamen ("Bunch of crazy old orcs who don't do much fighting. Worthless, if you ask me.") or to the alchemists, if she asks.