Open A Profitable Diversion (Jax)

[Razkar]

31st Day of Winter, 513AV
The Pig's Foot Tavern
13th Bell

Five copper pieces tinkled onto the dusty table and Merv's quick palm scooped them up before the last had even stopped vibrating. Razkar wasn't surprised: if you didn't have fast hands as a businessman in Sunberth, you wouldn't long have a business.

In return, a bowl was unceremoniously dumped in front of him. Razkar blinked at the contents.

"What is it?"

"Stew."

Which was about as much of an answer to Razkar as "bright" would be to "what's Syna like?". He frowned at the congealed, brown surface of the (admittedly) stew-like concoction inside the bowl, marred and pitted by chunks of blackened things that could have been meat, potatoes or, indeed, chunks of coal. He poked one with a spoon, half-expecting it to bite the wooden head off.

"Really?"

Merv actually had the balls to bristle with insult. "Oi, for five coppers, you get a big bowl, a few rolls-" he nodded to the brick-hard lumps masquerading as baked goods next to the bowl "-and two tankards of ale. You want a better deal, you can bloody well get it elsewhere..."

Razkar would have fired back that his ale tasted more of water and lye than it did liquor, but he conceded that the human had a point. Sunberth was not a place that breed trust, in anyone or anything. Skewed and unconventional as Merv's defintion as "food and drink" may have been , it was still... fair. Economically, at least.

"I think I'm good."

"Then dig in."

The old bastard actually waited until Razkar had taken a big, heaping spoonful and chewed it down before he deigned to leave. The Myrian glared at his back as the tavern-keeper shuffled away, pausing only to snatch a half-empty mug from the hand of a passed-out drunk with all the grace and skill of a pickpocket.

Male surely doesn't believe in wasting anything...

Fortunately, Razkar knew he didn't have to worry about falling prey to such sleight-of-hand... or, perhaps, there was just a lesser chance of it. Plenty of the scum that infested the Pig's Foot would try their luck with a drunk or portly merchant, even another human jackal or tipsy sellsword. But the Myrian, well... he'd furnished something of a reputation.

Dealing with the Dockside gang chimes after setting foot in the city had certainly helped. Slaughtering nine of them in mere ticks, and Edreina's dealing with the other three...

Razkar smiled even then at the memory of it. The horror. The disgust. The disbelief and the despair. Word had traveled, and his "innocent" Svefra had masterminded it. He was duly impressed: the barbarian female was learning well.

And so, the Myrian could sit at the booth in the Pig's Foot and have no fear of molestation. Newcomers whispered and muttered at the sight of him, bent over his bowl with his cloak of sewn scalps over his shoulders, weapon harness strapped across his back and chest, tattoos covering whatever dark skin wasn't marred by scars, old and fresh.

Still... it was somewhat disconcerting. Razkar took his mind from the meal, not just for the sake of his own taste buds, but also to try and solve his problem. The simple fact was, he was growing bored. Their mission with the fugitive Denvali was coming to a close. They were integrating into Sunberth well enough, and no-one had been asking about them, seeking to finish what the victors of the coup in Zeltiva had started. Then Razkar had his own mission to accomplish: an assassination on behalf of the shadowy Ignotus Everto, and then... and then...

He sighed and stared into the bowl... then decided his eyes couldn't take it, and took a deep swig from his tankard instead.

He needed a diversion, a distraction, some... purpose, until he could launch into his hunt. But until then, Razkar would have to be content with a cheap lunch and an unmolested frame in the smoky chaos of The Foot.

Receipt-5cm for lunch

[Jax Bradshaw]

31st of Winter, 513 AV. 13th bell.

Jax walked into the tavern, pulling the coat from his shoulders as he surveyed his surroundings. It was somewhat empty except for a few groups dotted about and one man on his own at a table covered in tattoos and piercings. Jax had never seen a man like that before. He definitely wasn't from Sunberth. The barman was there. That was good. Jax needed a drink.

Jax wandered over to the bar and beckoned the barman over. He looked over at the tattooed man who had certainly piqued his interest. Jax looked back over his shoulder at the man behind the bar.

"A mug of ale," he said to the barman.

"Coming right up."

The barman poured some ale into the mug and handed it over to Jax, his facial expression remaining blank throughout the procedure.

"Four coppers."

Jax opened up his coin pouch and handed the correct amount of coin to the barman before picking up the mug of ale and turning to the tattooed man. He just had to find out where the man was from, it wasn't like someone like him would be seen everyday. Jax made his way over and sat opposite the man.

"What's your story, stranger?"

oocJust a quick side note, your timestamp says 31st of Summer.

[Razkar]

"What's your story, stranger?"

Razkar's laden spoon did not pause on its way to his mouth. Black eyes flicked up, glittering with something between surprise and offence. They took in a youth about his size and age, but with a brashness to him that seemed to fit the average citizen of Sunberth. A slash of red nearly split the human's face and Razkar wondered if that would was... ah, no... it was ink.

The Myrian blinked slowly, taking in a man best described as strutting despite the fact he was sitting down with a mug of ale before him. He chewed thoughtfully and wondered what that crunchy-

Might be pork fat. Might... not. Best not to dwell on it.

Then his eyes lowered again, though their ticks of observation had not been in vain. As far as his keen eyes could tell, the man had no lethal intent in mind; he wore no weapon and his body was not the tense, coiled look of one about to unleash violence.

Dira dances in the light and dark, the smile and the scowl. Remember that.

Razkar did, and kept half an eye on the lad while he answered, taking another mouthful of... admittedly quite nourishing stew, washing it down with a sip of ale. But just because the human had shown more balls than the rest of the gutter scum in the Foot, didn't mean he'd earned a paragraph.

"I am hungry. That is my story."

He went back to his food. Either the boy would get the point and slink away, or he'd go on being snarky and Razkar would break something... or, just perhaps, he'd give the Myrian some incentive to open up a little more.

[Jax Bradshaw]

"I am hungry. That is my story." Were the only words to come from the man sitting across from Jax, not at all phased by Jax's appearance as he carried on eating whatever was in the bowl because it sure didn't look edible.

Jax ended up smiling that annoying smile he uses sometimes before sipping the ale. It felt good in his mouth, since he hadn't really had anything proper to drink, nor eat, in the past few days due to his rapid money loss. He swallowed the liquid before placing the mug onto the table.

He looked up at the gentleman sitting on the other side of the table. The guy was heavily covered in tattoos. Anyone could see that from miles away but Jax had gotten closer and used the chance as a way to study his face. His eyes were black and his face was covered in piercings. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be bone. This guy must be a warrior of some kind.

The man's hair was long and worn up, like an odd sort of beehive. It was as though he couldn't afford a haircut, but Jax couldn't judge since he wasn't in a very wealthy position either. It shone somewhat in the tavern's lighting, which made him look much less threatening.

Jax thought to himself, this guy might kill me if I say the wrong thing, better play it safe.

"What's your name?"

[Razkar]

"What's your name?"

Once again the Myrian's spoon did not deign to pause on the way to his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully as the human spoke, expression perhaps a little more open than before... but that could have just been the birth of exasperation.

"You think I'll just give it to you?" He said as he broke a roll of crusty bread in half, mopping up some of the juic from his stew. "Everything has a price, they tell me. Knowing a name is no different..."

Razkar regarded the youth and tried to surmise more than the obvious about him. Young, yes; cocky, certainly, but what your isn't? Razkar realized with an inward groan that he probably wasn't much younger than himself. But he had that brash barbarian attitude about him that Razkar had learned to recognize. He didn't know whether to pity or disdain it.

The Myrian sighed and wolfed down the other half of his roll.

"And since you stopped at my table," he said after a swallow of ale, "You'll be the one answering questions. So, I'll have your name and what you want..."

[Jax Bradshaw]

"You think I'll just give it to you? Everything has a price, they tell me. Knowing a name is no different... And since you stopped at my table, you'll be the one answering questions. So, I'll have your name and what you want..." Said the man.

Jax smiled up at the man, forcing himself not to lose character after being put in place by the stranger. But, refusing to back down, continued on with his ale. He got halfway before putting it back down on the table and looking up at the tattooed being.

"Name's Jax. I just came over t'see what you were like. You don't see a person..." Jax paused and looked the man up and down. "Like you everyday. Y'know?"

Jax sipped from his ale intermittently, awaiting the response from the man.

oocApologies for the long wait and the short post. My laptop broke and I was short on time.

[Razkar]

"Name's Jax. I just came over t'see what you were like. You don't see a person... like you everyday. Y'know?"

Razkar chewed one of those rolls and nearly broke a tooth doing so. Even soaking up some of the stew didn't seem to help: it was like smearing butter over a stone and hoping it went down better. With some effort he swallowed and snorted softly.

"No, I don't." He said with pedantic wryness, gesturing at Merv to refill his drained ale. Damned if he wasn't going to get his second. "I have a mirror."

However snarky his response, Jax didn't seem to take the hint. Razkar lowered his eyes and cleaned his plate, even put a dent in a fresh ale, but Jax didn't move. Just kept watching like Razkar was the latest addition to the zoo. After wiping his lips with just a hint of irritation, the Myrian placed his hands on the table and shrugged.

"There something else, boy?."

[Jax Bradshaw]

Time Stamp: 31st of Winter, 513 AV

"There something else, boy?"

Jax chuckled as the man called him 'boy'. Jax may have been somewhat short, but he wasn't a boy in the slightest. He considered himself tough and rugged, and relatively egotistical, but not a boy. Jax might have been chuckling, but inside, the remark made him want to tear the tattooed man limb from limb.

Jax stopped chuckling and sipped his ale once again, before looking the man over for about the fifth time, studying his features, his tattoos, everything about the male seemed intriguing. The guy looked like a fighter of some kind. It looked as though he'd seen many a brawl and come out on top of most. That peaked Jax's curiosity.

"You look like a fighter," Jax said, swigging once again from the mug of ale. "Am I right?

I'm a God and it's judgement day.

[Razkar]

"You look like a fighter. Am I right?"

Jax spoke just as Merv was cleaning Razkar's table, and shared the eyebrow that the Myrian cocked archly at the youth's words. The two older brawlers exchanged the despairing look of elders the world over, until Merv strode away, shaking his head and muttering.

"A fighter? Really?" Razkar said, words dripping with disdain. "What tipped you off?"

Before the boy could answer Razkar slid from his table and was on his feet, moving with a smoothness that belied his rough, jagged look. In a blink he was upright, swinging his cloak across his shoulders, sewn together from dozens of scalps, purse safely attached to his weapon harness.

"Look, boy," he said with a soft sigh, checking himself before looking up at the kid with bored eyes, "You want to pester everyone at the tavern with questions, you're going to end up with someone answering through their fists, and indestructible as you think you are, trust me, you're not."

That should have been the end to it. A little free advice given, a few words tossed over the table, not much gained but little lost... a fair little encounter, by Razkar's misanthropic standards. But the boredom was gnawing at him again, already, and in the lithe form of the cocky kid, he saw a chance for more relief.

"But if you want to learn a thing or two about being a fighter... I might be able to help with that." His hand appeared from his cloak, thumb and forefinger rubbing together as he smirked. "For a consideration, naturally..."

[Jax Bradshaw]

Time Stamp: 31st of Winter, 513 AV

"A fighter? Really? What tipped you off?"

Jax looked solemnly up at the man whilst finishing off his ale. He placed the mug down onto the wooden table before wiping the remainder of the liquid from his lips with his tongue. The bitter residue tasted somewhat sweet in Jax's mouth, but he was short on money, so anything would do to get him through the season.

Before Jax could speak again, the man was up on his feet with the oddest of cloaks wrapped around him. It almost looked like it was made up of... scalps. Jax shuddered at the thought and decided it wasn't worth angering the man, but he wasn't going to let up on his interrogation just yet.

"Look, boy, you want to pester everyone at the tavern with questions, you're going to end up with someone answering through their fists, and indestructible as you think you are, trust me, you're not."

Jax laughed off the comment from the man. He attempted to drink more from his mug, but only droplets fell from it and Jax realised he'd finished the ale minutes before.

"But if you want to learn a thing or two about being a fighter... I might be able to help with that, for a consideration, naturally..."

Obviously the man meant money. Jax thought it might help him in later life. The guy looked like he could handle himself, and it's probable, knowing the population of Sunberth, somebody's going to try something.

"How much are you talking?"

I'm a God and it's judgement day.