[Suzerain of Sheol]

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Tsaerri takes a gulp of whatever her hostess saw fit to give her -- no way Petra has the imagination to try poisoning her -- and tries very hard to avoid looking regretful as she forces the burning liquor down her throat. Elonian wine, it is not. Still, should take the edge of off.

Raising the mug in mocking approval at the outraged bartender, Tsae tosses her pistol in the air and lets it flutter away, the phantom butterflies harassing Petra's face before they dissolve out of existence.

Well that was a fun distraction, but it would be nice to actually get moving on this White Mantle problem.... The mesmer steals a nervous glance over her shoulder at the rest of the bar as Petra makes her way upstairs.