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[Saraseia Nestiline]

Sara was embarrassed. What, three elves, and she couldn't even hold her own. It was insulting to her. She was in the farthest corner of the tavern. She didn't know where she was, but she knew that if she could keep herself hidden for a few more hours, maybe the elves would give up on her.

She folded her arms across her chest, watching the chaos of the tavern. She always did love watching chaos, it made her feel less....obvious. She pulled her knife from her back and pulled a piece of cloth from her pants. Around her neck she'd hung a vial of poison. She poured a bit of the poison onto the cloth and began to rub it over the knife. When she was done with that one, she moved on to the knife in her boot. She decided to leave at least one of them, unpoisoned, and she had the greatest possability of accidently cutting herself with the knife at her wrist.

The same elf that she stole from earlier walked through the door of the tavern. "Oh my stars." She pushed herself further into the corner, trying to keep out of his eyesight. She sheathed her knife and remained completely still. She would just wait until the elf left pray to Gaeren that she didn't get caught again.

[Shadowz]

Niamh felt the air shift slightly as energies charged and emotions ran high in the Tavern. Not that such a thing was terribly note worthy as it happened often but the difference in this case was the taste of the energies she could all but roll on her tongue this time.

Death.

Someone intended to kill.

Someone was going to die.

Calmly, curiously, she looked around the tavern attempting to pinpoint why the energies were crackling with death's aftertaste. Or rather, who.

After a moment, she saw them. In the corner of the tavern, the little human seemed prepared to dice and dash when no one was paying any particular attention to her at all. And several elves in the tavern, distracted by their conversation and drink.

Niamh took a split second to consider her options. Don't do a thing and watch what happens in which the human probably dies. Use her unruly Magicks in hopes it does not backfire and the human somehow gets out. Do something un-Magicks like and hope it helps.

The urge to giggle bubbled up inside her as she knew there was only one option. The first two options already had a certain outcome. The human would die. Her Magicks would backfire. Which left option three.

Giving a mental shrug and a little prayer asking her head not be lopped off or that something equally painful, grisly and deadly happens. Niamh grabbed the closest pint to her and downed the entire thing then got up and staggered straight for the elves.

"ACK!" She collided straight into them and using her limbs, she 'accidentally' hit and knocked over every single one of them.

"Omigosh sirs! I am so sorry. Please forgive my unbelievable clumsiness! I am sooooooo clumsy. I don't know how that happened! What on earth? Were you all standing there a moment ago? I truly..." She slurred and rambled on and on attracting everyone's attention. In a supposed bid to retrieve something to wipe the elves spilled drinks with and to replace them, she got up swiveled around in a complete circle and fell over again. Right on top of a couple of them.

"Stupid juvenile little drunken elf." One of the elves mumbled under his breath heatedly, obviously annoyed. Niamh didn't particularly care what they thought of her as she continued to pretend to be drunk and trying to untangle her legs from theirs - the goal had been achieved. The little human had left the tavern.