"You insult my helmet, you're dressed as a gladiator - and you beg for mercy? I'll strew your coward guts across the Dojo, you-" "Zara, if he doesn't want to fight you to the death, then don't force it upon him." [i]The icy Elizabeth would say, as if preparing to leap between the engaging combat between Brutus and Zara. Indeed, the Mandalorian had gone completely still for the time, her blade stuck silently within her tightening grasp as she stared upon Brutus. The only face that he saw was that T-shaped helmet, still.[/i]

What stated back were the black, almost lifeless holes in the helmet he himself wore. He relaxed his position, placing the butt of his trident in the ground, and lowering his shield. His form seemed to slump, and he nodded to the one who intervened as a "thank you." "Fighting to the death? How many people have you slaughtered? Did you know their name? I didn't. A terrible thing, the arena was. To kill over an insult is... It's..." He struggled to think of the words, before deciding to call it quits and simply sigh. He'd seen people do worse for less, but it still put him on edge. "Did you truly call for a fight? Willingly throw yourself into battle?"

"...Do I ask for a fight? Yes, I do. I am a warrior, and I demand combat-" [i]The Mandalorian warrior would soon be interrupted, as a plain, pale hand from the blonde woman was placed upon her left shoulder. While she gripped the bone underneath, it was not an offensive gesture, as the icy blue eyes met the lime green ones that would belong to Zara, of whom was Brutus' previous combatant.[/i] [i]There was a simple silence, before the Mandalorian would release a simple sigh from her pink lips, nodding towards the peacekeeper of the group as the bounty hunter then returned to the bench, removing her helmet once again. The blonde woman looked upon Brutus, before nodding.[/i] "If you'd feel better with just training.. I can help."

"Thanks. My name is Brutus, er- just Brutus." The gladiator closed the distance between the blonde woman and himself, offering a handshake. His own hand was rather scarred, and had a rough texture to the outside. Certainly not the hand of a noble- despite his unwillingness to fight. "And your name? I'd hate to call you lady for the rest of our time together."

"Elizabeth. The kindness on your part is appreciated, though - can't say that many have called me "lady"." [i]Elizabeth would bow her head towards the gladiator, as the rugged hands of the warrior were clasped by a singular, smooth hand, as soft as silk. Yet the hand was freezing, as if the fingers were hardened icicles, her grip the cold wrath of winter coming.[/i] [i]Though Elizabeth's friendly demeanor contrasted with such coldness.[/i] "No one should fight over such things. Though wars start for less, to be terribly honest."