Flint Ironwood, to the rescue!Flint remained a spectator for a moment. When everyone was going to get beaten down though, he'd had enough.
,,Alright, that does it! Back off!" He shouted. A large wave of Telekinetic energy passed through the room, including shards of glass from the window the Breton had shattered. Everyone who was still standing struggled to maintain his balance.
Flint leaped through the window and came to a standstill right in front of a small group where he drew both of his katanas. The group, two Imperials and a Nord, drew either a dagger or a Claymore in return.
,,A Claymore, here?" Flint thought. A grin crossed his face upon closer inspection of the Claymore.
,,Say, the smith who made it is quite a bad one, isn't he? The blade isn't properly attached to the hilt which means......a bit of well-aimed Telekinesis snaps your sorry bit of metal in two." He thought and did just what he was planning.
Despite the fact that the Claymore was out of the game, Flint saw that he was surrounded.
,,Great, just great."
To his great surprise, everyone backed away.
,,It's the Dark Brotherhood! Run!" One of the not so drunk shouted. Flint rolled his eyes.
,,Oh yeah, I completely forgot I was wearing that cloak. Hah, for once the DB's reputation comes in handy." Flint muttered under his breath. Once the coast was clear, he snatched a surviving bottle of flin off a table.
(Too uber? If it is, let the drunks come back and beat Flint up real good. He's not good at fighting, even bar brawls.

)