Ousting the lout from the bar was somewhat dissatisfying. Núria desired a better form of retribution, she realized, as the fraudulent coins clinked on her hip. She'd have to figure out a safe way to unload this useless currency – or better yet, feed it back to the counterfeiters who tried to scam her. And that would only be the beginning. Her lips curled into a pleased smirk. Business would be slow for awhile yet, as she sought to establish contacts – or a network, even – here in Adeluna. Plenty of time to mete out punishment. It'd give Núria something to occupy her time, in any case.
Now, about that drink…
Across the tavern, Núria caught the eye of a middle-aged woman behind the counter, signalling her over. The barmaid returned her gesture with a nod of acknowledgement and a warm smile. Efficiently, she finished pouring the drinks she was in the process of serving and walked toward the Núria's corner table.
Weaving through the crowd of swaying, bumping customers, she quickly arrived; Núria was not surprised, given her experience with The Winking Mermaid. The tavern was a well-run business, which Núria respected, and had quickly become one of her usual haunts. What did surprise her, however, was when the woman smacked down a small glass swishing with amber liquid.
She blinked at it for a moment. "Uhhhh…" Núria slowly reached for her (legitimate) coins, but the barmaid gently shook her head. "Your gentlemen friend at the bar already took care of it, dearie," the woman explained with a wink, dropping a small note beside the glass. She turned on her heel and wove back through the crowd to her post before Núria had a chance to ask anything more.
'Gentleman friend'? She hardly had any friends, never mind in this city. Ignoring the note, Núria scanned the bar, quickly sizing up possible targets. She seemed to feel his eyes on her before she spotted him, senses on edge. A lone anomaly stood out to her, unmoving against the swaying huddles of sailors singing off-key. She met his gaze deliberately, studying him. Núria did not recognize him, or mark him has one of the Mermaid usuals.
He appeared to have selected the usual tankard, and… Is that a book? A book in a bar. Núria nearly shook her head, incredulous. Some people these days. Who brings a book into a bar???
Gleaning as much as she could from staring back at this stranger, Núria's gaze then dropped to the table, to the note accompanying the drink. "Having a bit of trouble, are we? Perhaps we can both come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." She raised a brow. 'Bit of trouble' was escaping a murderous horde of pirate bounty hunters on her way out of Vilpamolan… this was a minor bump, relatively speaking.
She looked back up, not surprised he was still looking her way. Ugh, swordsmen. He didn't seem to have any insignia markings of the Adeluna military or law enforcement organizations, and he appeared to be alone. Perhaps a mercenary of some sort, then, a sellsword. Regardless, Núria often avoided his type; their simplistic views of 'wrong' and 'right' generally led to lectures on where she went wrong in life, and how she should fix it, at the very least.
Still…. a drink was a drink. She had nothing better to do with her night but figure out why this odd stranger with a book felt the need to send her one. She certainly wouldn't fight this man in an alley, but in a public bar full of rowdy visitors and other regulars such as herself, there was no immediate threat. He seemed to want her attention for some reason, but of course was playing games about it. Well, no matter. If it was games he wanted, she could wield feminine wiles same as any other.
Núria rolled the note between two fingers until it formed a slender scroll. Casually leaning back, she tipped the paper toward the wall torch and lit it on fire, still holding the gaze of the stranger at the bar. When the flame reached her fingers, she dropped it onto the table, where the charred scrap curled onto itself before the flame fizzled into smoke. Sliding around the table, glass in hand, Núria checked her daggers with a subtle pat of her free hand before sauntering across the room.
The businesswoman weaved through the crowd, sliding up beside the man. She clinked her small shot glass against his ale tankard and flashed her most charming smile, tapping the glass against the worn wooden top of the bar before downing the drink in a gulp. "You really shouldn't have," Núria told him with a wink, "I never mix business with pleasure. Now we'll have to finish drinking before we can talk about arrangements of any sort."
Setting the glass down gently, she kept her index finger on the rim, spinning it on an tilt against the bar for a minute. "I presume that… bit of trouble…. as you called him, is currently slinking back to Vilpamolan, tail tucked, thinking how exactly to inform his boss that he couldn't con me." She sighed. "But it will be quite a bit more trouble when they come back in force. Ah, well… I have a couple weeks for that, at least."
The glass thunked back on the bar as she released it. "You know, if people just did what I wanted them to do, when I wanted them to do it, my life would be a lot easier." Núria chuckled quietly.