The large red headed man went crashing into the table behind Diego with a loud crash. The table broke beneath the man’s weight, unable to sustain the impact of that much mass. He was down for the count when his head hit the ground with a loud thunk, knocking him unconscious. The other two men, though they feebly attempted at tag-teaming the gambler, met a fate not too different from their friend’s. While they were not left unconscious, the man with the now broken knee could only limp around, and the other just held his face for a bit while blood pooled between his fingers and dropped to the ground below from his broken nose. The man who had initiated the flirtation with Loretta had figurative red in his eyes as he leered at him. While Diego’s attention was elsewhere, the man threw himself at him. His fists were flying and a few times his hands were opened like claws for his uncut nails to scratch about like a wild animal. Just like an animal he was practically frothing at the mouth, pissed for not only the gambler hurting his friends, but getting in his way. The alcohol had only amplified these emotions and left him ruthless in his actions, screaming as he thrashed at him. As the fight continued, many of the patrons fled, running past Loretta and her “friend” and some even climbing out of windows, for fear of being pulled into the skirmish and compromising their health. The bartender and the waitresses ran into the kitchen and closed the door behind them. Others stayed in the tavern and huddled into a corner table to give the men room while they bet on who would win, cheering all the while on their favored horse. Of the ones who stayed was the rich lord, who could only laugh at the brawl, finding the whole thing droll. Though he couldn’t help but wonder how well the cat-eyed man would fair if it were not for the minstrel’s magic. With a smirk on his face, he stood up from his seat and stepped over the knocked-out man’s head, taking care not to trip on the debris and collateral damage on his way towards the stage. With his focus on the bard, he noticed his eyes focused elsewhere from the fight. He glanced over his shoulder to see that he was staring at Loretta and one of the sleezeballs. His smirk disappeared from his face for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to Donovan, the smile having returned. As he approached the stage, he got a better look at the man. Why hadn’t he noticed him before? Perhaps because he had not been playing his enchanting music, he mused. Upon getting closer, he pulled out of a small pocket hidden in his vest another gold coin. Palming the small piece of metal, keeping it out of sight, he took a step onto the low stage and softly placed a hand on his shoulder, taking care not to interrupt his playing. He whispered in his ear, slipping the coin in his pocket, along with a small piece of paper, without his notice, “if you ever need anything, perhaps a hot meal, let me know.” His breath smelled of berries, from the drink he had consumed before, as he spoke. “The name is Rufus.” He gave him a wink and a smile and stepped off the stage before Donovan could say anything in response to him. He sauntered off towards the door, taking one last glance at the bard, and then another at Diego, before making his way towards Loretta and her pursuer. His eyes narrowed in their direction brushing past them before disappearing into the night as the rest of the townsfolk had done. The pursuer, stayed put right where he was, but his drowsiness deepened. He didn’t know what happened, but when Loretta touched his head and face, a sense of lifelessness filled him as the edges of his vision began to darken and blur. “Y-you.....now....wha...” he couldn’t even make a single cohesive sentence as his center of gravity shifted around him. He reached out his free arm towards the girl in one last desperate attempt to grab what he wanted, only to lose his balance entirely and fall onto her.