There's a soft huff before he goes to have his own swig from his cup, his eye trailing toward Lae'zel's tent. "Yes, tell her that and also you might as well tell the sky to stop being blue."

The comment about clerics makes him pause before finishing the contents of his cup.

"Yes, I imagine that would be true for most clerics, so... fiercely devoted to their gods and whatnot." Daan sets his cup down for now and shrugs. "Suffice it to say, I've been in a position more than a few times to expand my tastes. How fortunate the gods are so forgiving of debauchery so long as you do a few prayers and favors."

Yet, there is the slightest hint of distaste in Daan's voice concerning the pantheon. It isn't the mead talking either, for the cleric still seems suitably sober.

"Well, enough on me. And what about you? Specific tastes, or is it a free range?"