[Suzerain of Sheol]

Tsae rubs at her head, wincing into her hands and trying very hard not to snap at the idiotic idea he just proffered. Her emotional nausea is quickly becoming physical as the disgusting ale roils in her stomach. Add that to the list of terrible decisions she's made since she got out of bed today.

"It must be nice," she says in as even a tone as she can manage, "to have that kind of life, where you can just dial up the most powerful mesmer in Kryta to deal with your problems."

Relenting and shifting to lean her head on her arm against the counter and looking at him for the first time with defeated resignation, she tells him, "I don't know how they found me. And I... didn't exactly give her a chance to explain herself. They probably had something to do with what went down at the manor today."

Closing her eyes, Tsaerri breathes deep, and exhales. "Look. I'm in a pretty bad place right now. If you can't help me, I don't really know where else to go." In a flat inflection, she adds, "I don't exactly want to be here right now, prevailing on your conscience, if that wasn't clear. But, I am, so."

She can feel the alcohol working on her nerves -- not even close to enough to get her drunk, watered-down swill that it was, but it's nice to imagine. It's making her hopefully-newfound ally's presence moderately more tolerable, though to be fair, he hasn't opened his mouth again yet either.