"Lass...ye really th'nk any o' the ponces 'tside of th's bar w'll fight me?" Garran asked as he started leading Fiora out of the bar,"buncha doves, nothin' more." With that, as a man hit the wall hard right next to him, Garran stole the bottle clutched in his hand and took a final swig before stepping over the unconscious body of a bar patron which had smashed the door open. "ONWARDS! T' ADVENT'RE!" he shouted as he smashed the bottle over the rising man's head. Starting off in a random direction, Garran started humming an old seas shanty as he pulled Fiora closer, completely towering over her, but somehow seeming to be more at peace than ever. His grip was firm, but gentle, and yet bore a strange awkwardness as he pressed his roughly gloved hand into her shoulder. Thankfully, the ale he had ingested earlier, along with the adrenaline pumping through his veins from the barfight, helped him to ignore any apprehension he had, and instead managed to mostly walk down the streets with Fiora at a cheerful pace.

"Eh? Whas' goin' on ov'r he'e?" Garran asked as he heard a roaring sound. Turning to face the direction that it was coming from, the pirate cocked his head as he saw an arena, crowds streaming out and muttering animatedly. Occasionally a gout of flame flew out and scorched the clouds, piquing Garran's interests. "D' doves do gladiator'al combat?' Garran asked.