Vhramis sits at a table with Celeste, the pair drinking. The freelander beer, and the noblewoman wine. "I'm not a criminal. But there's a fine line that's been walked," he freely admits with a small grimace. "I'm not always proud of it. But it's what has to be done. Which is why the less I'm noticed, the better, usually. Don't take me wrongly..I don't go murdering good men." "Of course, Master Wolfsbane," assures Celeste. Her gaze turning back to the bandaged hand of the bard. "If either of you should need of me," she waves towards the table.