Most evenings, Korrin's at the tavern. After a day of training, hunting, or doing whatever the Inquisition needed at the time, she's earned some relaxation. The tall, horned woman seats herself at the bar, not feeling like taking over a table at the moment. Perhaps later, when more familiar faces arrive. For the time being, she smiles at the bartender. "Chasind sack mead...and why the hell not, I'll cover a round of whatever this bar is having."

From the bartender's nod back, this isn't an unusual occurrence. Her work pays well, and Korrin likes spreading the wealth around when she's feeling up to it. She nods to the gentleman nearby, raising her tankard when it's slid her way.