The smoke emanating from some sort of infernal contraption designed to turn a concoction of varying plants into what seems to be a god-forsaken trip of hallucinations—at least judging by the reactions of the lizardmen a few tables across—wafts through the entire tavern, causing Thormond's eyes to water slightly. He can not imagine a much worse place to be right now than this den of debauchery, but alas, he is stuck here alongside this woman that dragged him here in the first place. As if the month-long trip across half the world to this far-off place wasn't bad enough, now she's somehow gotten it into her head that she needs him to "loosen up", and apparently bringing him to a tavern and haranguing him about drinking whatever swill they're offering here is the way she plans on going about that.
Across the table, nursing a rather exotic combination of ingredients that somehow comes together to create a remarkably bitter, yet pleasant mixed drink, sits Ilyria, a woman that is absolutely enjoying herself right now. Her usual surroundings had gotten quite boring to her, and a temple-sponsored trip around the world was absolutely the thing she needed. As far as she is concerned, this is practically a vacation, if only it weren't for that stuck-up goody-two-shoes across the table from her. She does not know what exactly the followers of Araishe are like, but if Thormond is any indication, they must all be a bunch of the most boring people she can imagine. All throughout the trip here, he had been nagging and complaining about everything she was doing that wasn't focused entirely on their task, as if there wasn't any time for some fun. But tonight, she's going to change that. She's going to get this guy out of his shell somehow.
"Y'know, this actually tastes really good, you should try some!" she says, gesturing to her half-empty glass.
"I'm good, thanks," comes the paladin's curt reply, rather dismissive, and the cleric can tell that he does not seem to be in the mood for playing around, but it's not like that's a change from the usual. If she's going to get through to him, she's going to have to take a different tack. Perhaps appealing to his sense of duty will work?
After a short pause to let the last thread of conversation trail off completely, Ilyria begins again, "I've been thinkin', Thormond, about how we're gonna approach this whole 'spread the word' thing. 'Cause I don't know about you, but if two religious folks just showed up and started talkin' about how their gods are great and all, I wouldn't give 'em much mind. We gotta ingratiate ourselves, y'know? Get to know the locals, and you're not really pullin' your weight here. Like, you really gonna listen to some guy about gods when he won't even get drunk with you?"
That train of thought somehow actually causes the paladin to think, and for a moment, Ilyria isn't quite sure if this guy is just incredibly sheltered or the most gullible guy she's ever met. Somehow, she just never thought of wrapping her attempts at getting him to loosen up in a vague appeal to duty, but now that she's figured that out, this evening is going to be fun.
"Are you sure? That does seem like it makes sense, but I don't know..." the paladin muses. In a way, it does seem logical to him that doing things the way the locals do would allow his message to resonate more. It could be that this is just a trick on her part to try and get him drunk, but perhaps this could indeed be the way to success. And the temple would be incredibly pleased if he were able to spread the word like that... after all, while rules do exist, to some degree, they're kind of more like suggestions if the rule-breaking leads to more followers or donations. So maybe this is alright?
Now Ilyria knows she's got him. She can now put anything in front of him, and looking at how slim and innocent he is, he'd probably get drunk as hell from even the tamest drink. "Oh, don't you worry, I'll get you something. The local specialty, you're gonna love it!" she says, getting up from the table and walking right towards the bar. Now she just needs to get him something before he thinks about it, so she quickly motions to the beastman bartender. "Hey, hit me with something that goes down smooth. Something sweet, soft, with some kick," she tells him, and within a minute, he's mixed her up something called a "Silver Snake Venom"—not that she'll ever tell Thormond that; that name would probably scare him off instantly. No, she just grabs the drink, tosses a copper coin to the barkeep, and heads back to the table, setting it right in front of the paladin. "Here you go, a local specialty. Put one of those away and I'll promise the guys here won't look at you like some sort of weird foreigner anymore," she says.
With a nervous, yet somehow determined expression, Thormond takes his first sip of the beverage. It doesn't seem all that bad... rather sweet and easy to drink. It doesn't take long before he's gone back in for his second and third sip as well.
And at that point, Ilyria knows she's got him. Now she just needs to wait for him to get good and buzzed, and he'll be loosening up in no time. And then, they can have some real fun tonight.