Talashia grimaces. "A half-orc?" she whispers. "Why couldn't it be..."
She lets that trail off, then squares her shoulders resolutely.
"Lets hope he likes some forwardness. With the others coming from below, we don't have a lot of time to mess around."
With that the sorceress stands up, turns pointedly away from Caerwyn as if refusing some advance, and turns around to look directly at the half-orc, quickly picking him from the crowd because of his attention on her. She pushes through the crowd without looking away from him, a determined, crooked half-smile on her face.
On reaching the orc she looks up at him with that challenging smile, despite his towering height and weight advantage, and says, "Aren't you going to buy me a drink?"