“The tavern is very crowded this evening,” commented Tanykin
the Tenacious. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
Lelaya the Lovely smiled, adjusted her blouse to show the most cleavage decently possible and replied, “I know my business. You just do your job.” She moved off toward the target of her affection.
Deldel the Dwarf had just finished his fifteenth mug of ale when Leyla handed him a fresh pint pot. He grasped it enthusiastically with both hands and swallowed its frothy contents in a single quaff, tilted back his head, howled like a wolf in appreciation, and slapped the lovely wench lasciviously on the buttocks.
Phiustdyn the Passive observed his dwarf friend’s behavior disapprovingly, frowning. That wench was obviously after the map coin in Deldel’s pocket. Muttering an incantation of transport, he swapped a counterfeit for the original in a twinkling of magic.
Phiustdyn smiled at the successful exchange. He did not feel Tanykin’s hand reach into his pocket to relieve him of his burden.