"Whye not now?-" Neit finished her glass briskly, but then just started staring at it as someone had stolen a child's favorate toy. "-Whye not now, thate we 'r here, have one more rounde maybe?..." She gave a sharp, accusing look towards one of her red robed charges, which sent them scurring off to attain a renewed bottle of anti-thought juice as quickly as their legs could carry them.
"We nee'da sacrifice anyhowe, love. S'not gete head of'ar'selves. You wanna slum ite through Kuttra Taur again and try to finde some drow bitch lookin' for wares, or shoulde we try those inbred drow filthe pits by D'issan an' Chathser?"