"Ten thousand.....'S it made from cactuar juice or sommat?"

She gestures to the barkeep to produce two shots of the stuff and slides one to Clarus. She sniffs hers, considering it's content.

"Hm. Smells a right bit fancy if that's the case. Back 'ome, only the beggars an' refugees in Thanalan have to resort to sabotenders te get their drink. Ah well. Bottoms up?"