Some faiths and philosophies believe that certain people are in certain places at certain times for certain reasons.  Call it fate, destiny, kismet, or any other name; the concept is nearly universal.  Vijnayans call it "niyati", and they understand it better than most: they know that it is not real.  Niyati is just a pattern, and patterns are merely subjective,  Where you perceive order, I may perceive chaos, and vice versa.  Neither of us is wrong, or both of us are.  Reality is neither orderly nor disorderly; it simply is.<br/><br/>To Priya, the situation in the tavern seemed chaotic: many people with many goals who just happened to be in the same room at the same time.  That was irrelevant.  Order and chaos are quite different from harmony and disharmony, and only the latter are important.  In Priya's understanding, the chaos of the tavern was mostly harmonious: most of the people were pursuing their diverse goals in harmonious ways.  The only obvious disharmony was the windbag atop the bar, interrupting other conversations with her self-important theatricality.  Priya heard her words but did not heed them.  They, and she, were not important.<br/><br/>Because she was not focused on Qasval, she immediately noticed what<em>was</em>important: the pain on the faces of the two poor villagers.  They were not merely uncomfortable in the present situation, or embarrassed at the attention the blowhard was bringing upon them.  They were truly afraid.  They needed help.  That was the real disharmony here.<br/><br/>Priya was not the only person to have noticed: a Pantazian official of some sort was already speaking quietly with the woman.  Priya went to join them.  The diminutive dark-skinned woman wove her way to the table and placed herself politely in view of the villagers and the official, and waited for their notice.  "If help is needed here, I offer it," she said, in almost unaccented Pantazian, just loudly enough to be heard.