[@Rune_Alchemist]

Mirts face turned to a harsh glare at the disrespectful servant, a look he had mastered in his youth at the great temples of his homeland. Mirt had once stood at the pinnacle of his culture and the lessons there in sheer menacing presence were not lost in his travels, a few of the rowdy patrons crowding them gave an involuntary step back.

"You dare mock me and my protegee?!" Advancing a step with both hands balled into a fist, Mirt pointed to the crowd one by one as if calling them out instead. "I SAY IT IS YOU LOT WHO ARE SOUR. Spoiler by drink and food till lifting a dagger is a strain." Spitting the last word out like poison he glanced to a larger male in the back of the growing crowd. Knowing full well what they were.

"I say let the fat lordlings' dogs fight like the mutts they are and bring forth a true opponent! No man in this arena is strong enough to offer a sporting chance to my chosen anyways."

Satisfied, with the crowd cheering or shouting curses, Mirt crossed his arms and raised his chin to the gathered crowd and merely waited as the ruckus grew louder. At some point the crowd began a unified chant calling for a fight, drawing yet more eyes. At last the final straw gave way and a lone figure pushed their way through the crowd.
A single glance at the newcomer brought with it a deathly silence. Belrigger was a tall man, towering over Mirt, and despite his age was no less fit for a fight. The two locked glares until finally the Fighting Ring leader gave a grin.

"You really think you've got a fighter worthy of this arena, piss ant, have them in the middle pronto. They'll be a warmup for todays excitement." Striking a similar pose to Mirts, Belrigger put his fingers to his lips and blew 3 short whistles. A reply came from the elevated platform momemts later in reply.

Mirt rolled his eyes at the pageantry. The man was big and brutish but his eyes betrayed the soft nature hiding within them. Like himself it seemed whoever the brute was, they were an entertainer more than fighter.

"Whats say we strike a wager. Half a crown says Anyon, my finest student, trounces whatever sorry excuse for a fighter you serve before them." Hand shooting into the pouch at his belt, Mirt drew forth 5 silver coins and gave a wink. 

Belriggers grin only widened. "I accept!" His hand was a blur of movement. It was little more than the sensation that he had moved but sure enough the silver coins were nestled in the big shotcallers hand between his thumb and the meat of his hand. The topmost coin had even bent a bit, the genuine look of superiority was clear on Belriggers face as he turned to march to the arena wall.

Sure enough, from the gated doorway leading into the bowels of the tunnel system came the challenger. A little over 5 feet with a visored helmet and leather armor, the challenger held a dagger and shortsword with confidence as they casually entered the arenas lowered platform, their grip tightening as they waited for their food.

[hr]

Up above the arena, Belrigger had pushed aside the crowd with his mere presence. Only Mirt, Elque, and Mie were within 5 feet of the menacing human. Moe would feel the hairs on her neck standing on end despite the calm demeanor of the two opposing males. 
Stubborn, violent, pride. The usual tale of old men.

"Woman. Who permitted you to gawk?" Belrigger turned his gaze towards the fox and scowled. None of the workers on his coin were stupid enough to stare at anything but the next patron that needed a drink in their hand. "Scurry on. You are not being paid to stand around.

The kitchens were a good place to return to, but if Mie wanted the goods at the back gates she would need to stay in the spotlight. Already a few of the vip patrons had noted the commotion. Just a little more time and she would have one of those bratty nobles shouting her name for company.
Step 1..
If they wanted the attention they would need to play the part of a fan. It wasn't uncommon for the servers to latch onto wealthy patrons, charming them out of their money and earning the jealousy of others.