Rowan sighs, getting up from the table and making her way over to the two, offering the dwarf what she hopes will come across as a friendly smile, without being too friendly.  "I'm sure there was no offense meant, and fightin' over somethin' so trivial is bound to get you ill favor with Miss Brunhilda, I'm sure," Rowan tries to calm him with a bit of logical thinking, though in a more direct fashion than the druid's philosophical ramblings.  "If ou break up the place, I doubt she'd be in a mood to let you in for any more of her ale, and gettin' thrown out would be a shame," she adds, trusting that even if the dwarf is still angry enough for a fight, the possibility of his being cut off from his ready supply of ale might dampen his enthusiasm.<br/><br/>PC:  Rowan attempts to use persuasion to de-escalate the situation, with an 18 on the die, plus 5, for a total of 23.  Her accent is somewhat unusual, with a strange lilt to it. (Basically Irish, though I don't know what the equivalent would be, and if it's something more common, or heard around this area, I can edit accordingly.)