*Phew* Brin sighs as she finally pushes past the last body to deliver spell. That ought to put a damper on the situation, for a moment at least. Now to get that madman to back off before he does something we'll all regret.

She shoves her way through the last line of gawkers to emerge fully from the crowd, taking only a brief moment to whisper prayer of good luck she'd learned from her adopted mother--rest her soul--before straightening herself up and addressing the paunchy ham-wielder.

"Hold it there, your name is. I don't know what this business is about rutting with your daughter, but shouting it in the middle of a crowded street certainly isn't doing anything for her good name. I doubt the respectable suitors will be lining up after her father gives her dirty laundry a good airing out in public."

"But never mind that. Do you really want to leave her alone while you spend the rest of the week in the stocks? I admit, it might feel good to bludgeon this suspicious character about the head with a haunch of meat, but who knows what kind of blackguards might sneak in to harass your princess while her foolish father is being pelted with rotten produce.

"Just put the cured meat down, man! Hand it over to me and go peacefully back into your shop, before your ham-fisted antics turn a seen into a proper scandal."

The elf steps between Ven and Setsuna, optimistically grasping arms extended to receive the liquor-cured haunch of pork. Yes, that's right. Hand it over, old man. I can almost taste it.

Diplomacy: (1d20+5)[17]

and second roll, if allowed: (1d20+5)[20]