Indeed the patron was drunk.  In fact, other than leaning back and forth, his only response to her was passing out, face first, onto the table he was at.  Several of the thoughtless men seemed to say something in some sort of concealed radio, before one moved over and lifted the patron, a human of moderate years, balding.  In the back of her mind, she felt a distinct pressure, followed by a "Don't.  They'll kill you, or rape you, then kill you."  Where the voice was comming from was unknown.  Every race, other than the mindless men were capable of psionics, including two Camarians, one dancer, the other a bartender.  The Bartender was staring at Ianthe, she seemed to have a bit of a scantily version of a tuxedo, with a low cut top revealing a rather shapely chest.  She was currently cleaning a glass.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>