As the Wilden leaves the tavern, Thalin looks to the Warforged, then the Tiefling, then back to the notice, and finally down to the sigil he carries. Shrugging, he turns to address the Warforged, “Well B, looks like it’ll just be the 3 of us.” With that said, the Halfelf exits the tavern.
The door swings open a moment later, as the recently departed halfelf rushes in and over to the table he was sitting at. He snatches up his partially drunk ale, and downs the remainder in one long chug. “Woulda been sad to forget that.” He mutters to himself, before dashing out of the tavern again.