8th Day of Winter, 514
Chatting customers covered The Malt House in a blanket of non-specific sound, and only the occasional chorus of laughter broke through; Grayson was performing one of his funnier stories for the patrons, no doubt. Spirits were high and prices were higher.
Business is good tonight, I think. Moving with a quiet efficiency, Theo filled three mugs with ale. The pours weren't perfect, and could have done with a little less head, but they would be sufficient. Standing tall, Theo's white shirt and black vest gave him an air of professionalism as he placed the drinks on the bar.
"That'll be twelve copper-marks, gentlemen," Theo's baritone carried the necessary clarity it needed to be heard above the hustle and bustle. The group of men all reached for their coins -
"Brax, Dmitri, don't worry about it, I'll get this round," announced the shortest, and roundest of the three. Fingers like sausages scattered the necessary payment on the bar, and his companions took their drinks with thanks.
"Thank you sirs, enjoy your evening." Theo offered the sentiment as he scooped up the coins, but the group had already lost interest in the bartender. Of course, there was no tip.
Mentally shrugging, Theo smiled and turned to his next customer.
"Good evening sir, what can I-"
"About sodding time I got some service, eh!?!" The man sounded like he was missing a lung and gargling nails. His shirt was only partially tucked in and stained with sweat, which also gave his forehead an unpleasant sheen. Furthermore, if Theo could be any judge, the man was drunk. Very drunk.
"Of course sir, I apologise for the wait, what can I-"
"Would you look at this guy, sounding all posh-like, eh Martha?" The man's laughter grated on Theo's ears, and his attitude grated on Theo's patience. The interruption also drew Theo's attention towards the man's outstretched hand and the slender arm it clasped. Short auburn locks framed a round face; 'Martha' was the man's date for the evening, it seemed.
Poor girl, Theo thought, pushing the girl from his mind. All things considered she was probably a slave, which meant that it wasn't his problem, unlike-
"Oi! Poshy, what you got that's good ere?!"
Tapping his chin with a single finger, Theo hummed in mock consideration of the question. He used the time to carefully manouver his djed, letting it coat his tongue and pool behind his eyes.
"Well, we have a few bottles of our 504 Shiraz left: very popular and quite rare, I think. I'm sure you'd love it." They had more than just a few bottles of course, and - while it was by no means a bad wine - it was most certainly not worth what Theo was planning on charging the man for it. Typically speaking though, a single suggestion wouldn't have much sway over a person. With this in mind Theo pushed on his influence, directing it outwards and letting it wash over his target.
Let's try a little bit of Trust to ease the tension, and some Excitement too, I think. Theo's eyes stung slightly as he released the magic, but he was able to ignore the irritation.
"I'll take it! Now hurry up'n fetch it for me." Theo smiled in response to the request.
"Of course sir." As he turned to retrieve the wine, the bartender couldn't help but be thankful for his position. Drunks were particularly easy to manipulate, after all.
Business is good tonight, I think. Moving with a quiet efficiency, Theo filled three mugs with ale. The pours weren't perfect, and could have done with a little less head, but they would be sufficient. Standing tall, Theo's white shirt and black vest gave him an air of professionalism as he placed the drinks on the bar.
"That'll be twelve copper-marks, gentlemen," Theo's baritone carried the necessary clarity it needed to be heard above the hustle and bustle. The group of men all reached for their coins -
"Brax, Dmitri, don't worry about it, I'll get this round," announced the shortest, and roundest of the three. Fingers like sausages scattered the necessary payment on the bar, and his companions took their drinks with thanks.
"Thank you sirs, enjoy your evening." Theo offered the sentiment as he scooped up the coins, but the group had already lost interest in the bartender. Of course, there was no tip.
Mentally shrugging, Theo smiled and turned to his next customer.
"Good evening sir, what can I-"
"About sodding time I got some service, eh!?!" The man sounded like he was missing a lung and gargling nails. His shirt was only partially tucked in and stained with sweat, which also gave his forehead an unpleasant sheen. Furthermore, if Theo could be any judge, the man was drunk. Very drunk.
"Of course sir, I apologise for the wait, what can I-"
"Would you look at this guy, sounding all posh-like, eh Martha?" The man's laughter grated on Theo's ears, and his attitude grated on Theo's patience. The interruption also drew Theo's attention towards the man's outstretched hand and the slender arm it clasped. Short auburn locks framed a round face; 'Martha' was the man's date for the evening, it seemed.
Poor girl, Theo thought, pushing the girl from his mind. All things considered she was probably a slave, which meant that it wasn't his problem, unlike-
"Oi! Poshy, what you got that's good ere?!"
Tapping his chin with a single finger, Theo hummed in mock consideration of the question. He used the time to carefully manouver his djed, letting it coat his tongue and pool behind his eyes.
"Well, we have a few bottles of our 504 Shiraz left: very popular and quite rare, I think. I'm sure you'd love it." They had more than just a few bottles of course, and - while it was by no means a bad wine - it was most certainly not worth what Theo was planning on charging the man for it. Typically speaking though, a single suggestion wouldn't have much sway over a person. With this in mind Theo pushed on his influence, directing it outwards and letting it wash over his target.
Let's try a little bit of Trust to ease the tension, and some Excitement too, I think. Theo's eyes stung slightly as he released the magic, but he was able to ignore the irritation.
"I'll take it! Now hurry up'n fetch it for me." Theo smiled in response to the request.
"Of course sir." As he turned to retrieve the wine, the bartender couldn't help but be thankful for his position. Drunks were particularly easy to manipulate, after all.
