She sat in the corner of the tavern, doing her best to keep to herself. More to just appreciate and enjoy the heat which radiated through the place, it being a nice contrast than that of the streets outside with the wind which every so often carried a cold breeze that could send shivers down your backside. The warmth was perhaps the only thing to really enjoy there; she didn't drink, nor did she feel particularly comfortable, being a young woman in a crowded place with tons of drunken men. Even as she sat in the corner, doing as little as possible to draw attention to herself, she couldn't help but worry about wandering eyes focusing on her from elsewhere in the tavern. She adjusted her cloak, hoping to better hide herself from what might have been other onlookers.
"Another round, o'er here!" Yelled out a nearby patron, the suddenness of him rising being enough to cause him to otherwise lose his balance, nearly crashing into where Leyaria had been in the process. She had been observant enough to notice him, having moved though still finding herself falling to the ground as if a minor shockwave had echoed out from his collapsing into the corner. She noticed an outstretched hand reaching towards her to provide assistance, but she brushed it off, quickly getting to her feet as she made her way towards the bar. Perhaps a drink wasn't as far-fetched an idea as she thought, or at the very least, just to have something in her before she made her way out of there to something that was more 'inviting.'
She had barely even situated herself at the bar when she looked up to see the bartender, a large burly man, staring directly at her, an angered look in his eyes. "I think's about time that you be on your way, little lady," he spoke, his words harsh, intended to intimidate. They didn't so much achieve that goal as it did confuse Leyaria. She pointed to herself, not wanting to speak aloud lest it draw any more attention beyond that of the one or two people who might have actually listened to what the bartender had just said to her. "Yes you. I take pride in this bar. Last thing I need is to have some whore walk on in and try to score some easy business off of my clientele. So I suggest you leave. Sooner, rather than later."
"Just a drink and then I'll be gone," her voice was weak, partly from fatigue, partly out of concern. There were quite a number of large individuals - the bartender and the collapsed oaf included - that seemed to utterly tower over Leyaria. It wasn't even a question of how many of them knew Magic, so much as it was just concern over their physical size; what would stop one of them from stepping on her? She turned her head to see one of the men nearest her looking in her direction, his hand beginning to wander closer and closer towards her, more particularly the cloak which concealed the greater extent of her body. Whether the bartender saw or not, he did nothing, nor did he as he planted the drink before Leyaria, all the while the other man's reach turning more and more into a full grasp, violently tugging on the cloak as she walked away with her drink, the force being enough to force her backwards, the beer escaping her hands and smashing upon its landing while she fell herself, managing to collect herself enough to stagnate her fall. It wasn't until she saw the eyes all gazing upon her did she realize that the man had ripped the cloak completely off of her. She noticed a handful of faces have expressions which went from that of lust to disgust and panic.
"What is she? Infected!?" Someone yelled out, only further seeming to further rise the tension within the room. With a sense of dread setting in, Leyaria looked down, only to confirm what she had immediately come to fear; the people in the bar had seen the black corruption which had come to further and further spread through her body. "Oh God... Are we going to suffer that too!? Is she sick or something? And she's been here this entire time!?" She could hear the voices of the men, ranging from increasingly panicked to increasingly angered, causing Leyaria to fear the absolute worst.
Wasting no further time, she grabbed back her cloak - the man who had yanked it seeming to be as stunned as the others - and rushed out of the tavern, never once looking back nor stopping to see if they were following her. Rather, she ran, running as quickly as she could away from there, not particularly knowing where she was going or for how long she had to run, only knowing that she just had to keep moving.
It wasn't until that point that she had finally opted to look behind her, noticing not a single person from the tavern having followed her. She was in the clear, seemingly, and as the adrenaline in her body began to wane, she started to slow down, but with her attention focused behind her, she failed to notice the slight trip in the ground ahead. She fell forward, the suddenness of it not being enough for her to properly brace for the fall, but rather holding out an arm in hopes of it absorbing the brunt of the force. "Ugh," she yelped in pain as she slowly got back to her feet, a pain running through not only her arm, but also her leg - it having scrapped against the hard ground as well. While she thought that it might not have been broken, she had to check on it, but with what seemed like no place nearby other than taverns, there was little as far privacy went.
Perhaps the best option before her; a bench with a man who appeared to have been sleeping.
She slowly proceeded towards it slowly, not wanting to further strain whatever extent the wound on her leg had amounted to. Once she had taken a seat, she began to pull back the linen sleeves of her outfit, blood having already been soaked in them. "Damn," she cursed under her breath, mindful not to wake the man beside her up. There seemed a small cut near her wrist, it already having appeared to begun swelling, but outside of that, there wasn't any apparent injuries. That is unless one were to consider the blackness that consumed her hand to have been an injury, certainly at least a deformity as Leyaria would consider it. Looking down on it as the pain it caused continued to throb, Leyaria swore at herself, her eyes remaining fixated on her hand as droplets of blood fell to the ground beneath it.