[Out and About Viden] The Slow Season

[Jakob Daud]

Jakob was starting to like this student. Had a way with words that he didn't... at least yet, he thought. The intricacies of the Common tongue was lost on him. He was fluent, that's true, but he wouldn't like to get in argument with somebody a caste above him, lest they make him look like a complete fool. "They say something, down south. Birds of a feather or some such," he says with a smile. However, the conversation returned to their interaction at the mines.

"We had no idea that whoever owned that slave could be so cruel. I doubt any could blame us for doing what we thought was right." A fire was brewing in his chest as he spoke, indignation in his tone. "I didn't lash the slave. You didn't leave him in the cold for breaks on end in this bitter cold. The bastards that-" Jakob realized he was speaking up, and gave a quick glance around the room to see the prying eyes wondering why this man was so upset, he resettled himself in his seat, and continued with a lower tone.
"The bastards that owned him need to pay for that. I've seen slaves get punished, but never like that before. Not once."

Jakob began to wonder where his drink was when he was suddenly acquainted with it. A clang, followed with a loud "Oops!" that was trailed by rapid-fire apologies from the barmaid. She must've tripped, either by accident or by purpose, but it still happened. The drink that was to be Jakobs was now all over Jakobs leg. He was disappointed, really. He heard soft laughter, quickly stifled when he looked to see who it was. The barmaid had her face covered by the serving tray. She lower it slightly, revealing her brown eyes. "Sorry. I'll fetch you another. And a rag!" She scampered off before Jakob was allowed to reply. He raised a hand in an attempt to get her attention, but it was too late. He lowered it in defeat. With his newly soiled slacks, he turned to face Sybil, who began to talk about work.

Jakob crossed his arms at the proposition, having to think about it. But, it was only momentarily. He was happy that the university may end up paying him. There was quite a bit of work handed down by them, but even their need for miners would fade when it got too cold. However, work was work. He nods deeply, and states clearly "I'm in. I can see if others would be interested in coming along. No promises on extra hands, though. Especially from those two." Jakob said with a hint a callousness in his tone, pointed to his friends. "They're going to be busy this season, doing who knows what. Probably drinking away their pay."

[Sybil Malach]

"That's just how slaves are owned, I suppose." Comes the sigh from Sybil. The student, it seems, simply glances to the side, and takes in the sights of the Devil's Advocate. A slow shake of the head, "They're guaranteed some things under Videnese laws. That's more than other places." The student makes that point rather solidly. The state of slavery is simply a case of ownership. The only thing stopping an owner of a slave from doing what they want with a slave, no matter how vicious, was social repercussions. The laws between the lands varied, but Sybil didn't know the intricacies of it. Only that such actions, those being fatal, were frowned upon in Viden. A quick blink of the eyes are given, as a thought is slowly processed though the back of the student's brain. A life of Videnese upbringing didn't quite instill the most stable view of the culture itself, as it's all about practicality and learning. But this was the norm for here, and Sybil wasn't quite as worldly as to comment on other places, and simply assumed they were used as hard labor, more than anything else.

A passing glance, though, is given to the barmaid. A shudder is given, at the level of service this place gives. It was worse than the 'taverns' that just served non-alcoholic drinks. Namely because this place was barely even legal to begin with. Sybil reaches for the cloak's hood, bringing it over the head. Giving enough of warmth to make up for the barely passing by Viden standards hearth. Many men and women were doing the same, to brace against the cloying chills.

"I suppose it's better than no assistance. ... I might be able to get enough of a sample to make it very much worth all of our times." A slow shrug of the shoulders is given. The student at least doesn't seem to spare it much thought, as the case of the situation is entirely dependent on outside factors. A soft chuckle escaped the lips, with a slow shake of the head, "It'll be oils from some of the flora of the area outside of the city. ... Rather dangerous, and it'll be somewhat useless to anyone if it's extracted improperly. We've a small window for it, if you can find the hands. Anyone that could do it easily, frankly, are doing far more lucrative things." A vague chuckle escapes the lips, with a slow shake of the head.

The tavern itself continues forth, even as the two talk. Its atmosphere steadily dropping, as slaves become more and more lose fingered with their coinage. Probably stolen, or looted. But when it came to alcohol in Viden, was anyone truly keeping track, outside of the authorities? And even then, half the people in the room weren't even sure if they fully cared.

[Jakob Daud]

He wasn't looking for an argument, but Jakob had some things he wanted to say, especially about the slaves. "I would figure..." Daud said, leaning into the table, "... that just because it's better here, doesn't exactly make it great, right?" He wasn't really prepared for a followup question, if Sybil was to ask one. Instead, he took the initiative and ceded the conversation. "I wouldn't know about how slaves are treated elsewhere - if it's worse than this, I guess the buggers are lucky." He had to admit, the student was smart - no surprise, coming from the Academy. The only issue was that Jakob didn't want to feel like an idiot, and that tended to happen when he talked to people from the Academy.

"I can't tell if what you're trying to have me do is supposed to sound easy, or if you're making it sound easy but it's actually quite challenging." Daud said with a smirk. The student had an air about them. The shrugging in slow-motion, the half-open eyes, the admittedly cute yet stifled chuckles. He was taken by surprise when the waitress quickly returned with a drink, who took great care as to not spill it on his lap this time. He grabbed the mug and looked inside. As far as he could tell, no spit. He always had to be extra careful around the Devil's Advocate, in regards to tampered drinks. He moved the mug in a rotating motion, swirling the brew within. He didn't bother drinking it, as the conversation wasn't over with yet, and he couldn't truly enjoyed the beverage if he had to think too hard. Daud still had a question to ask. "If I was only able to bring myself along, do you think we could get enough to make the trip worth it?"

While the two were talking, Jakob's fellow miners seemed to be getting antsy at the bar, with the large Lotharo having turned his ire towards them, while Bors turned his ire towards the slaves for one reason or another. They appeared to be talking, but in a manner that betrayed their true intentions. When the unmistakable noise of a fist slamming on to the counter echoed through the establishment, Jakob began to take interest in what his coworkers were up to. He took a glance, and when no action happened immediately, he waved it off. He turned to Sybil, and addressed the situation with the same level of disregard. "Don't worry about them. They won't start a fight."

[Sybil Malach]

"Through a certain point of view, that makes sense. ... But that's how it's been for quite some time." Comes the response from Sibyl. The thought seemingly stirring something in the student's mind. Eyes slowly returning to Jakob, "Might not make it great, but it's largely down to the rights of ownership. One can own a cattle, and do as they please. One may choose to milk it, butcher and render it, or simply keep it as a pet. As strange as such a notion is. Some are more forgiving Masters than others. Others even pay for their slaves' education, to become something greater to the household." The student simply shrugs at the shoulders at that comment. Stranger things had happened, of course. In a day and age where bears and panthers could potentially become docile, "I don't know much about elsewhere, but here, at the very least, slaves are assured education by the Masters of Viden themselves. I can't think of a far off nobleman doing the same for a serf." Comes the light, if a tad tired, chuckle from Sybil, as a hand rests on the side of the empty mug.

A light laugh escapes the mildly tipsy student's lips, at the suggest by Jakob. A slow shake of the head, "It'll be hard work, for pay that men and women of the means to do it aren't interested. It's not easy, but it's beneath their notice. It takes a specific kind of people to benefit from it. ... As I imagine, we both have dire need of money. And I'm sure, we won't be missed for some time." A tap of the chin is given, in light thought. A slow roll of the shoulders, "Perhaps. Perhaps not. We wouldn't be able to go far, and the risk becomes higher, with only the two of us. But it could be done, if you believe yourself good with arms." A slow shrug of their shoulders is given, in emphasis, regardless. Eyes slowly tracing the barmaid, as she comes past. It doesn't seem to linger for long, as eyes slowly shift to the man, once more, "It'll come down to both of our competencies, in the end. I'll see if I can gather more information regarding the herb's whereabouts, and start to plot a course, if we should even go through with it, with just the two of us." Sibyl's voice flows easily. It's slightly scratchy, but the ale has since soothed away at the rougher parts of the throat itself.

A slow, sidelong gaze is given to the arguing crowd, once Jakob points it out. Perhaps pointing it out jinxed it. One of the miners broke out into a malevolent, jeering laugh. A few of the slaves gritted their teeth. Sibyl overheard the equivalent of 'sailorspeak' being slung between the two groups. The student far too cityborn to truly understand townsman and villagers as they began their descent into low-speech. A slow blink of the eyes are given, as a salve rises up, and slams his fist down on the bar, casting a hearty voice, of fast-paced words, rapid-fire, right at Bors.

Slowly, Sibyl's eyes returned to Jakob, with a brow raised, "... Are you sure?"

[Jakob Daud]

He watched the student explain their position with unabated interest. Sybil definitely had a way with words. "I understand that, but..." Jakob literally bit his tongue. He didn't truly understand what he was trying to say when it came to the slave, other than that he was upset with what happened. He gestured his left hand, which helped him think. He went from pointing to the ceiling, to curling his fingers, then eventually clasping his two hands together on the table when he ran out of ideas. He didn't want to leave dead-air, so he said what he thought was best. "They are people. They aren't a cow, or a dog, or a horse. Why would you..." A sense of innocuous dread washed over him. He didn't want to keep talking about this, because he thought he was making a fool of himself. He rubbed his hands together, as is washing them clean of the topic, and wrapped them around the still-full flagon. "Never mind it."

He took a deep breathe when the talk came back to work. Something he was more suited for. "Good with arms?" he questioned. "I'm assuming you mean am I good at fighting?" He gave a smile, proceeding with an obviously joking prod; "My, my, Sybil. Do you find me to be a thug?"
He folded his hands, and neutralized his expression. "Because you're right. I'm not bad at a fight, but I wouldn't say I'm the best. Do you expect a lot of fighting to go on, out there?" He asked, vaguely waving his right hand towards the outside word, "In this cold?" The only thing Jakob could think of adding to that part of the conversation was "When do we set out?"

Then, it came back to the issue of the bar patrons and Jakob's co-workers. Sybil asked if Jakob believed they wouldn't start a fight, so he answered. "Yeah, I'm sure they won't." Jakob said with a confident sense of certainty. His confidence quickly faded when he couldn't recall the amount of people that seemed to be getting aggressive with each other. He craned his head over to look. If he had to count the number of people that seemed to be getting on each others nerves, there were five slaves, the Lotharo, and the two miners. There was also a woman, quite obviously clutching a concealed dagger within her sleeve. A four-way fight wasn't exactly in their best interest - at least that's Jakob he believed. None of them were particularly amazing fighters, and being outnumbered is never good for the odds of walking out of fight with little more than bumps and bruises. Idly, he stated his opinions as such. "They're outnumbered. I hope they aren't counting on me jumping in. I'm not in the mood for a brawl."

He couldn't shake the idea that something was going to happen, so he sat there, across the student, watching to see what would happen. He just wanted to talk, and to drink. He had accomplished the former already, but never got towards achieving the latter. He starting taking approximations as to what would happen at the bar. From his experience with the two miners, Moorn didn't seem to be getting angry, but he was definitely feeding into the atmosphere. Bors was trading slurs and curses with the slaves, who at some point got involved with everything that was going on over there. From Jakob's perspective, this was just friendly banter. The towering Lotharo was talking himself up, from what Jakob could tell at this distance. Bors had switched the target of his aggression to the Lotharo, and Moorn was assuredly backing him up with whatever he was saying. An ear-to-ear grin formed on the Lotharo's face as he leaned in very closely to Moorn.

Moorn, having been antagonized, sweeps his arms over the bar counter. Flagons of meed, plates of bread, and stacked coin are sent flying in the direction of the Lotharo. Moorn's voice boomed in the small establishment, and Jakob was able to hear what he said as clearly as if he was standing right next to him. "Step off, you foul-born hair-ball!"
Jakob pursed his lips and blinked at Sybil. He didn't have to admit that he was wrong. "Pardon me." Jakob said, sliding out of his chair. "I'm going to collect my - " he stammered, "my friends."

[Sybil Malach]

"It's the wilderness." Sibyl explains, eyes flicking sidelong to Jakob. Considering the man for a long moment, those eyes linger, "That's the whole issue with preparing. We will either find absolutely no issue, or anything that could go wrong, will." Finally comes the full answer. A slow roll of the shoulders, regardless, "I was able to procure some information on a relatively low risk area. Issue is, it's been a frequent scavenging location." A light sigh escapes those soft lips, in admission. A slow shake of the head, "Likely? We will just need numbers to fend off the wildlife. Wolves, the occasional bear. ... But in the off chance that we encounter those looking to make slaves out of citizens, it would perhaps be best to be able to flee. ... But I wouldn't have too much worry of that particular risk. The location is just due east of the city itself. Not too far."

"As for setting off... I'm hoping for within the season. I'll have to get a stamp of the herb we need." A slow shake of the head, "It's based on how quickly the Academy can give me the information I need, and if you can find more men than just yourself. One or two more should be comfortable enough to ward away most threats this close to the Citadel."

"It's a bad idea to pick a fight with a Lotharro." Comes the response from Sibyl, as the student's eyes slowly glance to the target of the man's attention. The slowly brewing fight. Something that, until now, Sibyl had noticed, but not fully prepared for. It was one of the first things the student saw, after all. And the main reason why the approach to Jakob was even made. Something was going to happen soon. The slowly broiling fight was coming to a head. Soon, it would boil over like an unattended cauldron. A slow tap of their fingertip against their cheek.

Though Sibyl had been used as a meal ticket by this specific Lotharro, the student had learned a great deal from him. It was clear that the man wasn't a standard Lotharro. None of the accounts in the Prime Anathenum made sense with how he acted. He was clearly a slave, and distinctly owned by someone. But that exact owner, Sibyl had never full seen. But the sheer size of the man was prodigious, being the first cue that the man wasn't, at the very least, fully human. No man was often that tall, not without some sort of unexplained anomaly. He spoke in a tongue that the student hadn't understood. The assumption was made. Perhaps he wasn't a Lotharro? ... But that wouldn't explain why everyone else seems to call him one. Or why he doesn't bother correcting them. Perhaps, Sibyl thought, If I just spoke with him... Give him another ale, he'll calm down.

Rising to a stand with Jakob, a slow upnod was given to him, "Sounds like a plan. ... I'll see if I can't calm down my... Associate." They sigh, softly, at saying that. It's clear the student had little control of the man. As the two rose from the table, it was clear that they both had a similar destination, even if it broke the two up. Sibyl's footfalls are calm, and steady. Approaching the large Lotharro man. Sibyl's gait was unsteady, but it was clear, purposeful. Something was going to happen, and the student, at the very least, was going to try to prevent it.

"Hey." Comes the voice, as Jakob tended to his own gathering. An eyebrow raised, as the two groups simply shouted, as Sibyl remained by the bar. A hand raises, as though preparing to tap the Lotharro on the shoulder. It was a dumb idea, and the student knew it, deep inside. Not even deep inside at this point. Worn on Sibyl's sleeves, it was clear this was a bad idea.

But the Lotharro was too lost in yelling his jaw off. His pride had been injured. His fist was tightening. While Jakob was 'collecting' his friends, Sibyl was going to realize just how unavoidable this situation was going to be, when it came to violence. A deep swallow of the throat, as the student tries to think of something to grab the man's attention, "Ah... Barkeep, do you have more ale? I think you patrons might..." But before the student could even reach into the satchel for the nell to pay for the booze, something happened. The ignition of the fire about to start, between the two groups of people.

The powder keg was prepared to blow. And Sibyl stood, as the Lotharro balled his fist, and aimed a punch towards Morr's face. Sibyl's skin beginning to utterly pale. The first blow was being struck, almost entirely out of the blue. The Lotharen's passionate, emotional response only solidifying the Videnese impression of the race.

[Jakob Daud]

"I can't tell if what you're trying to have me do is supposed to sound easy, or if you're making it sound easy but it's actually quite challenging." Jakob said with a smirk. The student had an air about them. The shrugging in slow-motion, the half-open eyes, the admittedly cute yet stifled chuckles. He could feel himself easing up when talking to them. They were arguably the smartest person that Jakob had ever talked to. He had figured that it couldn’t hurt to work with somebody of their stature. He’d have to think on it, but it was an available option.

The student was talking about his friendly co-workers, who seemed to be arguing with the Lotharo at the bar. He was lying when he said that he didn’t think anything would happen between the three of them. Bors is a moron, who would gladly take a swing at a man that loomed over him like an adult to a young teen. That of which Jakob was certain, as he saw him do it before with little to no provocation, much to his own chagrin. As for Moorn, he couldn’t be certain. Jakob and Moorn had fought each other in the past, and from that experience learned that Moorn never took on a fight that he wasn’t sure he could win. But Moorn was intoxicated, and alcohol does strange things to a man’s sensibilities.

The two proceeded over to their respective compatriots. Sybil, soft-spoken, asked for another glass of ale, in an attempt to simmer down the argument. Jakob, however, was busy with his two companions. After what Moorn had said previously, he remained quiet. Bors however, could not stop himself from egging on the Lotharo, who had obviously lost all his patience by now. Jakob attempted to reason with his co-workers. Menial back and forth followed, with the fruitless endeavor of attempting to convince his drunk co-workers. Jakob was beginning to get annoyed with the actions of his party, and finally punctuated his argument with a single question, to both sides.
“Are the three of you really looking lose some teeth over some feking ale?”

His question was answered by the Lotharo slamming a punch into Moorn’s face – sending him spinning to the dirty floor. Jakob sighed deeply, and give an incredulous look to the student, waiting for his gaze to be met. While he wasn’t looking, he heard a loud thud of Bors leaping onto the Lotharo man, and dragging him to the ground. Moorn, stood back up, and let out a shout before joining the dog-pile on the Lotharo. Then suddenly, a stranger, Jakob assumed it was a slave, started throwing kicks into the pile indiscriminately. Jakob, stepping around the writhing pile of angry drunkards, shoved the slave back into his fellows and barked out an order for them to mind their own business. He could tell that the slave, who stumbled backwards staring at him with an unchecked fearful expression wasn’t going to be coming back to this fight. He gave a glance at Sybil, who had turned ghostly white. He figured he wouldn’t be getting any help from them, as he tried his best to grab Moorn out of the pile.

For his troubles, he took an elbow directly to the chin. He thought it was from Moorn, but before he could focus his anger, the Lotharo, who was underneath the two miners, grabbed him by the left ankle, and pulled him right off his feet. Jakob gave into his annoyance after being suddenly shifted to the horizontal. Especially when he hit his head on the cold stone floor. He was in a daze, but he quickly understood what was happening shortly thereafter. The slaves from trills before had started kicking him while he was down. Jakob covered his face with his arms, which helped diminish the blows to the head, but he left his body completely exposed, to which a few of the slaves took advantage to that.

With a growl, Jakob looked to his feet to see the Lotharo still grabbing onto his ankle. Using his free foot, he stamped at the Lotharo’s fingers, repeatedly. After ones of kicks elicited a popping sound, followed by the scream from the Lotharo, Jakob found that he was free from of his grasp. He was able to turn over and get on all fours before taking a sharp blow to the jaw, sending him flat on his stomach. If his stomach had anything in it, he would've spat it up. It was becoming readily apparent to Jakob that this was not a good situation to be in anymore, and the he should’ve hedged his bets sooner. The hits kept rolling in, and they wouldn’t stop. He didn’t much care about what was happening to Moorn and Bors anymore – he was more concerned with keeping himself conscious. Jakob balled up and covered his head with his arms. He heard a large crashing sound, and the kicking stopped. He took this time to get to his knees, and deliver a haymaker to the groin of the nearest assaulter, sending them keeling over. He used the individual he just punched to pull himself up to his feet. He quickly scanned the room, and saw the Lotharo standing tall. It was only for a second, however, as the Lotharo sent a boot to Jakob’s chest. This knocked the wind out of him, took him off his feet, barreling through the crowd of slaves around him, and to the floor on his back. He stared at the dimly lit ceiling momentarily, before a thought had crossed his mind.

He never got to enjoy his drink.

Seconds later, he was provided shade by the towering Lotharo looming over him. The Lotharo raised his leg, and brought it down swiftly onto Jakob's face. That was the last thing he saw, before slipping into unconsciousness.

[Alistair]

Sybil

Knowledges
Psychology: People will use others for a drink ticket
Psychology: The fantasy of social interaction can fill social needs
Psychology: Always presume a drinking partner has other motives
Psychology: Diagnosis: Crowd Mentality: In-fighting
Psychology: Accurately judging Jakob's character
Meditation: Being at one with a crowd is like being a single being
Meditation: Mental separation from groupthink through calmness
Discipline: Resisting the urge to join a fight
Discipline: Allowing a drinking acquaintance to think he can manipulate
Discipline: Accepting Jakob's choice of friends without judgement
Discipline: Knowing when to pull back from a self-convinced lie
Discipline: Putting aside a crappy mood to not put it on another
Socialization: Some people aren't worth having as friends

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: +10

Points 15

Jakob

Knowledges
Endurance: Getting beaten up by a crowd
Endurance: How to protect oneself when getting kicked on the ground
Endurance: Withstanding an elbow to the jaw
Endurance: Taking multiple blows to the stomach
Endurance: How to take a heavy kick from a much larger opponent
Endurance: Properly covering your face from attacks
Endurance: Taking blows to the head and remaining conscious.
Combat: Unarmed: Knowing when to throw a punch.
Combat: Unarmed: Look for opportunities to land a cheap blow
Combat: Unarmed: Other people can be used as leverage in a fight
Intimidation: Managed aggression is key to intimidate anyone
Intimidation: The threat of force is just as good as force
Intimidation: Sometimes you have to follow through with your threats
Intimidation: Just because you got somebody to back off doesn't mean they have left.

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: +10

Points 15

Comments: Due to the extreme backlog of threads in need of review, I won't currently be leaving comments in order to save some time. Please PM me if you have any questions and enjoy your rewards!

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