After a few moments of listening to the ruckus of the bar, Livet had gotten all the information she had needed. A small smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. She had enough gold for more than a few nights, but she didn't want to spend all of her gold on lodgings. However, after a moment she sighed and decided that, after so many days of travel (it had been a while since she last swept through a village) she at least deserved a comfortable night in an inn. Plus, she could really do with a bath and a hot meal. Her feet ached, and she was desperate to wash herself thoroughly; it was much too cold in this frigid winter to properly bathe or wash one's hair. She finagled her way to a stool, but before she could talk to one of the barkeeps to discuss what she needed, a man approached her.

She tried her best not to start, but she honestly wasn't expecting the attention. The woman tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and smiled politely. He was strangely proportioned and his face was mostly covered by his hood, but she could see that he had electric blue eyes and a somewhat disfigured face. "[i]I'm surprised to see a new face in the Leaping Stag, what brings you to this fine establishment li'll miss?[/i]" He asked, and Livet pursed her lips. The last thing she wanted in that moment was for some man to start hitting on her, but she tried to pull the judgmental thought back. She was dirty and obviously worn out. 

"Oh, just travelling," she said lightly. She leaned over the bar as a barkeep tried to speed past and ordered a meal for a handful of coppers. She straightened again and cocked her head back to man who had addressed her. "And you?" She inquired, although to be honest she wasn't too interested. She was too tired and too focused on the hearty stew her stomach was anticipating with hungry grumblings. The sorceress was still cordial, however. As their conversation progressed, she noticed a confrontation brewing on the other side of the inn. A man, who she thought looked like an elf, was being accosted by a group of thugs. A staff was at his table, and Livet swallowed thickly. It drew the attention of more than a few of the surrounding patrons. 

Unfortunately for the hungry sorceress, the confrontation on the other side of the room came before her stew. A flash of light dazzled the people inside The Leaping Stag. Livet, at first just out of the corner of her eye and then in full view and she turned toward it, saw what looked like magic fly through the air. Her blood began to pound and she gripped the hilt of her short-sword. She stood and turned in one movement to see two clear sides emerging around her before it devolved to a massive brawl. She scooted her stool in front of her, ready to throw it at an opponent and dash for the nearest exit. She didn't want to have to do anything drastic, and doubted she had the nerve to channel any arcane energy in this crowd. Ready to draw her short-sword with one hand, her other open near the stool, she hoped the violent mass would just leave her alone, but she doubted it.