A proper tavern brawl - the first in her lifetime.<br/>Had she been her younger sister, the opportunity would have certainly had her giddy with excitement at the thought of relaying the information to all she knew without a second thought. But, alas, Beve liked to believe she was slightly more of a diplomat than that; on a good day, at least.<br/>It would have been a lie to try and pretend she was not concerned - primarily for Helm's safety, should he attempt to separate a group of people trained for fighting; and for the briefest moment, in all her naivety, she considered interfering.<br/><br/>That was when things took a turn for the physical. The stranger had been verbally accosted by a group of people who clearly did not take kindly to any Elven progeny. Sadly, that was not an uncommon occurrence. However, most lone half-Elves would have chosen to take the high road when faced with greater numbers.<br/><br/>But not this one.<br/><br/>It was all fair and good, he did seem younger and more hot-blooded - the two did go hand in hand and it should have been no surprise, then, that a fight was imminent. But Dragensild did not see many fights and for the most part Beve had been under the impression that the patrons liked it that way.<br/>Why was it then that they were so quick to abandon all pretense and start shouting words of encouragement and curses all at once towards the squabbling party?<br/>Helm himself seemed none too concerned with the situation, either. If anything, there was a fire in the man's eye that was truly more than the reflection of a mercenary fighting his way from the grasp of literal flames before shooting out the door of the tavern, no doubt to put himself out in the snow.<br/>Good call. Although the better call might have been not to engage in a fight at all to begin with.<br/><br/>The Elven stranger came out of the ordeal with ruffled feathers, but not much else. Clearly his adversaries had more than a few egos bruised and would certainly think twice before attempting a similar trick again, especially with this particular adversary. It was surprising to know Helm had ever owed money to anyone else and a little daunting to see him have to deal with a debt collector, but the tavern keeper was as prepared as anyone could be, given the circumstances. In fact, he engaged in polite conversation with the half-Elf and offered him a drink on the house.<br/>Beve learned that the stranger came with at least a title, if not a name - The Silver Lion Mercenary. Everyone and anyone knew of the man bearing the title, but for Beve this was the very first time eyeing the person behind the legend.<br/><br/>She almost missed the fact that he made a motion when they locked eyes, but the movement did catch her attention just in time to see a small coin pouch landing in front of her. It was odd enough that she picked it up, the weight of it surprising and concerning at the same time. She peeked inside and let out a small gasp, but by the time she looked up again, the man was gone.<br/>Puzzled, she looked at Helm who approached her to exchange a look of disbelief with her, no doubt. It seemed very deliberate, however, not at all like an error of judgement, although leaving a hefty sum behind like that for no service in return would have begged to differ.<br/><br/><b>"I know that look, what do you want to do?"</b>Helm asked, his hands already busy drying another glass like it was business as usual and the fight had never happened.<br/><b>"Any other day, I would've thanked the gods, the stranger and the booze you serve and handed you half of this."</b>Beve responded:<b>"But it's too much."</b><br/>Helm gave her a chuckle, warm and fatherly as he tended to in most of their interactions, unless he was cross with her for whatever reason:<b>"You are due for a break. I suggest you sort it out with him instead of looking like a lost puppy here."</b><br/><br/>Beve let out a small laugh, but a brisk nod later, she was gunning for the door. She could still make out the man's silhouette and she hurried through the snow after him, every step letting out a crunching sound that she wished she had had the time to enjoy. But alas, she had more pressing matters to attend to, not the least of which was focusing on not tripping and falling like a certified klutz.<br/><br/><br/><b>"Hey!"</b>She called urgently, more to stop the man from walking away any further, lest she lost him for good than anything else.<b>"It is not customary to hand your money directly to the performer here. We are not a street act."</b>Beve's voice called above the night wind as she closed the distance between them, enough so that her outstretched hand, holding the sack, almost touched him.<b>"And I cannot accept this, generous though it may be. You have not even listened to one of my songs. It hardly seems fair."</b>