((MsFicwriter here. In the perspective of Master_Archon and his character, LordDeathRay made a serious miscalculation, but I'll run with it because I can't wait to see how the Elf reacts. After all, conflict is always interesting!))
Per'dra wasn't the only one that screamed as the Purge spy fell onto the floor in a pool of his own blood and filth. The Drunkard's Haven suddenly became full of wailing, gasping patrons who were bolting for the exit. Middle-aged Meara shouted for order, to no avail. Almost everyone panicked.
"Silence!" That was the Bard herself, once an icy chill had reminded her of what was truly at stake. "Didn't you hear what that spy just said? All of us have a matter of hours before the Purge's soldiers get here and slaughter everyone! If they haven't already, they're probably forming a battle plan to figure out how best to sweep the slums. They want us DEAD, and not merely evicted. To the Purge, we're all scraps of garbage, and the more 'scraps' of whom they dispose, the better! If you all want to run, go ahead, because I'll be right behind you!" She turned. "I'm getting out of here. Does anyone want to join me? If we flee to the woods, we have a better chance of escape."