"You're on."

One tankard clinks against the other, and the rest of his drink gets downed before he grunts and stretches, beckoning the bar maid over to get them all another round.

Krem's a good man, maybe the best he's known. One of these days, someone's going to see it, and it's not gonna matter worth a damn what he's got in his pants. It's like he told him earlier on.

Keeping an eye out never hurt.