[Well, any tavern worth its salt will have regular bar fights— it's simply the way of things— but with so many new faces about, Balthier is certain that many of his fellow 'riftfarers' are unlikely to take such an event in such stride. He pauses in the middle of his own meal to move himself in front of the next table over, putting himself between the young lady seated there and the scene that's begun to break out.]

You may wish to leave in a hurry— these things are known to escalate, I'm afraid.

[He looks back at her over his shoulder, offering her a brief smile.]

Hardly what you expected when you sat down to dine, I assume.