To his mild (and, he realized with a pang of guilt, very selfish) relief, the woman targeted by the drunk’s rambling was not a familiar companion but an elven woman he had never seen, who promptly surprised Alderic by volleying a scathing retort right back at her accuser. He blinked at her counter-accusation in alarm, not entirely accustomed to… well, anything remotely like this whole strange situation.
The oddest thing of all, though, wasn’t the way the scrappy little elf defended herself, but the wide-eyed gaze she flashed for the very briefest of moments to the strange Dwarf at her side. By mere happenstance, Alderic’s approach put him in just the right place to see her guarded flicker of fear, pushing himself through to the front of the crowd at that precise moment. That significant glance did not in any way alter Alderic’s determination to intercede, but it planted an awful little seed of suspicion in his gut.
“Calm down, ser,” Alderic commanded in what he hoped was a reasonable but firm tone, striding out of the throng and halting near Rhocanth with his face set grimly. He glanced down with his brows arching in bewildered curiosity, trying to make eye contact with the Dwarf however briefly. Perhaps if he could get some cue how to gauge this situation from the smaller Warden, he could alter his tactics before he shoved his foot too far into his own mouth. Without the luxury of a moment to confer properly with his ally, he barged on ahead with confidence he was better at faking than feeling, “If you have concerns about the illegal use of magic, please direct them to me.” He was, after all, quite obviously a Templar. There should be no question that sorting out matters like this was his job.
He directed his gaze back to the elf girl, strained but not at all unkind. “I think we should hear both sides of this story.”