Lester
Ameia Morrow
Tonate Proper - The Stilts, the Red Squirrel Tavern

It had been busy in the tavern, but nothing Ameia couldn't swerve around. Or she thought so until someone else appeared in her path to the door. She reacted a little too late, not even really being able to see who it was before face planting into what felt like a door and stumbling back. 

She heard it before she noticed the pouch gone missing; the unmistakable sound of the coins hitting the floor. Next to the sound of metal on metal, there was nothing that the ears in the tavern were so keen on hearing, and she knew it. If it wasn't for the hand stabilizing her she might've fallen, but she paid no mind to whoever it was that uttered the apology. Instead her head snapped back to the table she was just at. 
And it was clear she hadn't been the only one who heard it, because both men were already looking at her. The one she had just robbed had pushed his chair back so hard it almost fell. His expression didn't leave a doubt that Ameia was in a lot of trouble. There was about a split second of time for her to come up with something that wouldn't end up with her being beaten into a bloody mess. 

"It was their plan! They made me do it!" The panic that had been on her face for a moment had been replaced with an almost pleading look. Her finger was pointed directly at Fabian, who she now looked at. Her dark eyes didn't seem to apologize at all. She tried to keep her posture as she realized she might have just a big of a problem if she got out of here. But that was for later, as it seemed that her quick improvisation had been enough to convince the victims.

"Ye try t' steal from me, ye slack-jawed rogue?" 
The men almost spat at the knight as he took a step closer, quite clearly not intending on talking it out. Slowly the tables around them started to fall quiet at whatever was going on. They weren't the centre of attention yet, but it wouldn't be long before they were.
Matthew
** | Fabian Ambrose | **

Tonate Proper, The Stilts, Red Squirrel Tavern.

Fabian furrowed his eyebrows as the woman looked to the men behind her, and took a moment for him to understand what had just unfolded, and despite what the woman had just said, Fabian used the stabilizing hand on her arm to quickly move her behind him, interposing between her and the man, and having the side effect of putting him between the man and the purse, which was now closer to Ameia.

"Trust me, sir, this a grave misunderstanding. If I were to steal from you, why would I choose such a poor-looking fellow." He exclaimed with a raised eyebrow, gesturing as if to back up his point. He had no worries about if the man attacked him, he could easily dispatch him, even in a fistfight, his worry was more for the rest of the tavern, and the possibility of them jumping to the man's defence. "You dropped your coin purse, she was just picking it up for you when I ran into her, a grave misunderstanding."
Lester
Ameia Morrow
Tonate Proper - The Stilts, the Red Squirrel tavern

"Who are ye callin' poor-lookin', ye nasty swindler!" The man raised his voice even more while stepping towards Fabian. His money seemed less important than the words of the knight, as the attention had fully swayed from Ameia. And he wasn't the only one. His friend from the table had gotten up as well, standing right behind him as they eyed up their new foe.

Meanwhile, Ameia stood still for a moment. To say she was confused was the least. She had expected him to start denying it, either panicking or distancing himself from her. She didn't quite expect him to put himself between her and the now bloodthirsty men. It had thrown her whole idea of pinning the blame and slipping away off the table. Not to mention her act, she couldn't hold back the first sound of laughter before clutching her hands in front of her mouth. Who was this man...?
No matter who he was, it wasn't looking too good for them. It only took a quick look around for her to feel that they were getting more and more attention. A lot of unwanted eyes were set on them. The tension was building up. Ameia had seen it before, in the same place, and she knew the moment the first fist went flying there was no stopping. Everyone jumped at the chance of a good brawl. 

So when the man in front of Fabian shifted his wait to lunge forward, lifting his fist, she didn't waste a second. Ameia jumped towards the pouch, grabbing it as she heard a first fist hitting someone and the room burst out in voices. She wasn't sure who got hit, or what was happening, but that didn't keep her from executing her plan. She yanked the pouch open and an abundance of coins went flying to the floor, followed by her yelling which somehow made it above the already existing noise.
"What ye grabs be yours!"

And chaos broke loose.

Everyone scrambled to their feet and almost threw themselves on the floor where the fighting had just started. Exactly as she had hoped. Ameia regained herself and yanked on the nearest piece of clothing of the man she just accused a moment ago. It was stupid to think she could drag him along, but the tug was surprisingly hard to ignore.
"Run, now!"
Matthew
**| Fabian Ambrose |**

Tonate Proper, The Stilts, Red Squirrel Tavren.

"Nothing wrong with being poor, I am in a sense, poorer- but it has made you especially ugly." He said as he spread out his arms, giving the man opportunity to punch, as he lunged forward, Fabian let the blow hit him. He had slightly underestimated the man's stopping power and looked up with a bloody nose and a grin, the next punch aimed for his gut- Then she yelled.

He Barely noticed as the man hit the armoured plate, possibly breaking his hand by, for all intents and purposes, punching metal. People were swarming the area and Fabian stumbled back from the sheer amount of them, only for his cloak to be tugged. He didn't question it as he let the woman drag him a lot- following at a rushed speed for what he hoped was the doors.

"Do you spend all your nights starting stampedes miss!?" He said over the yelling, almost honestly asking. So the thief hadn't ran? He assumed she pushed the blame on him for her escape, yet she may have just saved him a beating. As they ran, he made sure to push anyone out of the way- aa some of the patrons threatened to send them to the floor as they rushed by, trying to get in on the action with the coins "It doesn't look like 'classical' fun!"