Her last name meant nothing to Orrig. He watched carefully as she pointed out both types of chicken--he tried a non-spicy piece, but oh, he was a fan! "Thenk you again, Evie." If she didn't want to mention her last name, much, he could understand that. Wasn't he sort of keeping a masked mage in his employ, back home?

He sure was. All that mattered to him was what Thistle did. She was a good employee and got the job done, even if there were a half dozen questions she didn't answer. Or more. She didn't hurt anyone--unless it was a monster or a demon frog or some such. Something that asked for it.