As the 4 companions and the dog converge on the table the mug contorts itself to a smug grin. "Perfect! When you're ready just go to the bar and order an Ivy Port, you'll all shortly be trasnported to the front room of my wing. We can talk further then."

And then the mug returns to it's mundane state. There's a small amount of ale still sitting in the bottom, just a little that didn't spill or spurt out as he transformed and then spoke.

Vele gives the table a knowing glance, as the mug goes still, and seems to be keeping an eye out for any calls of further orders.