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Riasha just keeps sipping at the ale. Evidently being distressed is just being an inconvenience to the others. The mage and the elf are not the same race, but there seems to be a sameness between them just the same. She doesn't want to bring people down, but on the other hand, she doesn't see what there is to be cheerful about being sent to hear death. Obviously the elf was able to take it philosophically. Then again, she was raised with the notion that this was likely her fate; Riasha wasn't.

Hmmmm, that ale is starting to taste pretty good. Gulp.

"This isn't what I usually wear," Riasha actually sounds mildly indignant for once. "But it was decided that my other clothes would attract too much attention. So I had to wear this instead." Then she smiles. "Besides, it's getting close to winter where I was before; I was grateful to not be chilly." She looks over at the elf. "Do you not have winters in your part of the land?" she is curious to know. Actually, come to think of it, it IS much warmer in here than it was where she had been. Quietly she takes off the cloak and folds it neatly, setting it in front of her.

"Don't be offended because I wouldn't wear your clothes. They look fine on you," she insisted cheekily, hands raised in surrender. "And sure, we get winter. Sometimes it even gets cool. Never seen ice, though. But they told me about it," she added earnestly, as if it held some sort of importance.

She grinned her way through Lance's story, topping off his drink one more time. He struck her as a bit of a lightweight. While she could taste the alcohol content in the ale, it wasn't nearly as fierce as the swamp grog she drank regularly.

Jóna had never seen or heard of a palm tree or a coconut, but the story certainly sounded amusing. Whatever his beef was with Kira wasn't her concern. She laughed uproariously with him, more from the infection of his laughter than the content of his story.

"You want to know how I know about alligator stones? I had this tutor. He was supposed to be training me for my trials. The big brother of Urt himself! Huge orc. Complete sonofabitch," she spat. "Anyway, he beat the stuffing out of me day in and day out. Always talked about how stupid and slow I was and how I was going to die in the trials. Well, after I told him to go drown in the bog, I went around to all of the hunting lodges before the gators were skinned and collected as many alligator penises and testicles I could. Alligators keep their stones up inside their bodies. Anyway, I then made hundreds of hanging ornaments out of them and hung them all from the rafters of that stupid orc's hut for him to come home to. Picked the hottest day to do it where he was off clearing out some border vermin all day, so he came home to his little shack stinking like fetid gator c**k," she laughed, wiping her eyes as she recalled him roaring and tearing down the reproductive organs to pitch into the swamp outside.

"God, you should have seen the flies," she sighed.

"Well, I for one," he said, raising his glass to the human girl, "would definitely not wear your clothes." He belched. "I might. No, I probably wouldn't. Maybe."

He polished off the ale and said meekly, "Please keep your clothes on."

He laughed loudly, snorting a little at the elf's story. It was rather funny, and probably a lot funnier than his prank on Kira. He searched his soaking brain for something to top her story. Suddenly, it hit him.

"There was one time when I was still getting used to magic. I was about... maybe nine years old? Anyway, so I'm trying to use magic, and they're teaching us all about the elements and how to use them. You start out with wind because no one cares about a gentle breeze compared to a fire, or whatever. So, we're using wind magic, and we're out on the water on a boat, and we have to use our magic to propel the sails. The entire time, there's this girl, gah, I don't even remember her name, but she would make fun of me, and tell me I couldn't do it and I would embarrass myself. Well, I used my wind magic when it was my turn, and instead of using it on the sails, I accidentally used it on her. She inflated so big and starting floating off of the boat into the air. When she got too full, she popped and swirled around the air like crazy making this weird pbbbth sound the whole time. And when someone else took their turn, they propelled the sails, and the wind from the sails sent the girl flying."

He sighed happily. "We've never heard from her since. I wonder, do you think she's dead?"

Riasha actually laughs a little when Lance debates with himself over whether or not he would wear her clothing. Either it really was funny, or the ale is starting to work its own form of magic. "I wasn't intending to remove more than my cloak," she says to him. As for his second story, she can't even imagine what that would look like, she so just stares in wide eyed wonder. Then it occurs to her... "You were only nine? They teach you such powerful things when you're still just a child?" Cristani was ten, and she couldn't imagine anyone letting him have even the beginning of such powers.

She looks over to Jóna. "I suppose it would be uncomfortable for someone who wasn't used to it. I would probably be very uncomfortable where you're from if it's normal to wear that little," she says, gesturing to the scantily clad elf's figure. "Who is Svana?" At least she doesn't have to ask what a slave is. In fact, she doesn't mention the slavery bit at all. She frowns briefly though. "If the girl in his class was also nine, then she wasn't grown up yet; she still could have changed. It's a bit unfair to want a child dead because they're a bit obnoxious. Usually they grow out of it." Human children at least; she didn't know anything about elven young.

"So it is a natural part of you then?" Riasha asks. "Any magic users I've heard of all had to learn it from dusty old books." She blushes a bit as he shows off his non magical tattoos. "I think the glowing is interesting, though I don't know if I'd want to have anything that was colored. Just a soft, white light. Maybe pale blue," she muses, mostly to herself. Then she focuses on Lance again. "Is being part blind related to your tattoos?" she asks with a furrow in her brow.

The first question flustered Riasha for several seconds, her face growing redder. "So you're born with these tattoos then? Do the patterns change from person to person, or are they the same? Does yours look like your parents?" She shakes her head. "I'm not sure what DNA is." Yes, she's from one of the scientifically 'primitive' worlds. "I'm sorry to hear about your eye. How did it happen?" Since talking about herself is depressing everyone, it seems her next course is to get people to talk about themselves instead.

Riasha looks embarrassed for a different reason now. Hastily she executes a curtsy which, even quickly done, is quite graceful. Evidently she isn't as awkward physically as she is socially. "Riasha," she says. "We don't really use surnames," she adds, just so he doesn't mistake her for being too familiar by not giving a second name that she doesn't actually have. She tilts her head to the side. "Your own mother caused that to happen?"