Alastrina swallowed then stood up straighter, keeping a hand to her sword hilt for now. If the rest joined in, they could potentially take the three of them on. But if they all backed out..."May we help you, gentlemen?"

"A fight!" Gabs said with a grin. It got wider as three men stepped their way, drawn by the one guy dropping his drink.

"Oh, I wanna help you," Gabs replied, stepping up next to Alastrina, already cracking her fingers. "I haven't had a good scuffle in weeks since they let me outta the stockade. Sorry, can't guarantee ya I won't tear your arms off to beat you with, hope you tattooed your names on 'em, they get hard ta sort out afterwards."

"But hey, I'll let you have the first punch!" she added, barely suppressing her bloodlust. If they struck first, it became self-defense. Maybe some of that reading was worth it.

"Didn't ya here?" The one at the front croaks in reply. "This 'ere belongs to the Timbermaw guild now. Out with ya unless ya want trouble!"
His stocky friend to the side chuckles. "Run along little messengers."
Almost as one, they take a menacing step closer.

Galen's our burst was not yet over, his breath momentarily taken by the shock of the situation. Old Al was tugging at his fine clothes trying to sit the infuriated noble down to no avail.

"Huh?" Gabs paused, looking at them doubtfully. "So if this place starts losing money, they're going to take out out of your pay?"

"So like throwing all these people out who's been paying for their ale and beer," she added, waving around at the other regulars, "zf they ain't drinkin' here, that's gonna cost them money, right? So you're paying for all those people who won't be payin', anymore?"

"Boy, did they see you guys coming," she grins, smashing her fist down on a small tabletop, the empty wine bottle being used as a candle holder smashing to the rush-strewn floor, which began to smolder and smoke, "Heaven forbid that something should break."

Alastrina looked askance at her, outspoken companion. Were such lengths truly necessary? Still, she stepped up beside her, sword hand still on the hilt. "I believe it would be up to the bar proprietor to kick us out, not you. And if he truly doesn't want our coin for his establishment, then he can tell us himself. If he would still like us as his patrons, I rather think he'd be offended at you for chasing away his customers and taking matters into your own hands. As my companion so, bluntly, put it."

Behind the three men, beyond the ruckus of other brawling patrons came the loud shattering of wooden window panels as one unlucky height-challenged man was hurled through them. Standing in his wake, with a small clearing around him was a tall muscular man with wild dark hair that matched his beard. His piercing blue eyes fell onto Gabs and Alistrina, and he started stomping their way, barely slowing as he shoved men aside or threw out a heavy fist.

Meanwhile the trio of thugs were oblivious to the happenings behind them. The middle man seemed to pause and ponder on the revelation looking a bit confused. His younger companion to the side could wait no longer and lept forth swinging his fists out wildly.

This left the last man holding the chair to catch up,a moment later he step forth holding it up over his shoulder threateningly, waiting for his clear opportunity.

Gabs ducked under the younger man's swing and butted her head towards his chin as she drew her short sword.

"Really," she grinned, "You're going to take on people wearing armor and weapons? And tuck your thumbs inside your fists? Idiots."

What idiot started this mess?

Alastrina immediately rushed for the one with the chair, taking firm hold with both hands and trying to leverage it away from him.

Alastrina immediately rushed for the one with the chair, taking firm hold with both hands and trying to leverage it away from him.

The man fought furiously to maintain his hold, seemingly like his life depended on it, but that all changed as he slowly registered the sword being drawn. His grip suddenly opening as he release the stool and took a few steps back.

Gabs ducked under the younger man's swing and butted her head towards his chin as she drew her short sword.

"Really," she grinned, "You're going to take on people wearing armor and weapons? And tuck your thumbs inside your fists? Idiots."

What idiot started this mess?

Stumbling backwards rubbing his chin, the wiry young man did not step forwards again. Eyes locked on the sword. All around the room more disapproving eyes slowly fell onto Gabs. He was about to reply when a viscous shout thundered through the tavern.

The ruckus did not end immediately but it sure slowly died down. A few people scampering out, others groaning and nursing their injuries.

"Who dares draw steel in my tavern!?"
It did not come from the large towering man quickly approaching them but instead another further back. Balenof. Fury was etched across the tavern owners face as he eyed the group. All other quarrels forgotten.

"Who dares send thugs to assault fair ladies such as ourselves?" Gabs retorted angrily, staring past the brawlers to Balenof. "Why shouldn't we use everything we have against those who threaten violence when none was offered, no doubt wishing to take advantage of us and relieve us of our virtue? If you wish us to leave, have you no courage to face us yourself, or is courtesy a lost art in these lands?"

She might have grown up in the streets, but she had a good pair of ears, a small talent for verse, and a vocabulary that would put the old madams of bawdy houses to shame.

Balenof’s scowl deepened as his gaze locked onto Gabs, her words hanging in the air like a gauntlet thrown. The room seemed to hold its collective breath, the tension palpable.

"Fair ladies?" he barked with a derisive snort. "I see one with a sword drawn and another with a mouth sharper than any blade. If you're looking for courtesy, lass, perhaps don't start by swinging steel in my tavern!"

He jabbed a finger toward Galen, his voice rising. "And you, golden boy, flappin’ your lips like you’re untouchable, stirring these louts up with your prissy insults. You think your words won't get you hurt? A man can only take so much before he forgets who’s who in a brawl."

His attention snapped back to Gabs, his tone harsh but not without a hint of begrudging respect. "As for thugs, these fools don't speak for me or this tavern. But if you're looking for trouble, you're bound to find it with words like those. Now, sheath that blade and settle this with fists, or I’ll settle it myself—and trust me, you won’t like my way."

The towering man in the background crossed his arms, a faint grin playing at his lips as the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Balenof’s presence alone seemed to temper some of the chaos, but the threat of violence still lingered in the air.