114th of Vhalar
Four in Hand
Scalvoris wasn't so big, the island scalvoris, not the city, the city was even smaller, and yet nobody could point him in the direction of a proper arena. It seemed that fighting for sport was not something that people did in Scalvoris. Ronan wondered what they did for fun around here then. Instead, he'd started asking for the next best thing: a place where bets were made. He quickly found his way to the Four in Hand when he switched his questions up. The place was far from the glorious Rynmere arena he'd spent the majority of his life in. It had only been after he'd left that he had come to understand just how expansive and majestic his home turf had been. Too late now. The massive, blue skinned man pushed the door open leading into the establishment.
The smell of losing coin wafted out as he entered the strangely shaped bar. The entire place seemed to have been made up from three or four different places, probably four if you looked at the name, and just put together under one roof. As per usual, heads turned as he walked in, drawn to one of the many outstanding physical features that made up the former gladiator. There was plenty to choose from, some things more obvious than others. Ronan ignored them all and looked around, identifying what passed for the bar in this place and walking over to it. "What'll it be?" The voice of a young lady piped up from behind the bar. "I'm looking for the owner." Ronan leaned down on the bar, throwing his shadow over the much smaller serving girl. "You'll have to get in line then. Anyway, a drink while you wait?" She nodded towards a blonde haired, blue skinned woman in an obviously heated discussion with some patrons.
"Trouble? I'll have a beer, by the way." He looked over to the woman talking with the patrons. The girl quickly poured him a drink and put it on the bar. "That'll be one silver, please. And I'm sure it won't be trouble for long. Anyway, I haven't seen you here before. Are you new in town?" Ronan pulled his attention away from the blonde haired, blue skinned woman. For the longest time he figured he'd gathered up the worst possible combination of physical traits from his parents and he was a true one of a kind person. Yet here he was looking at a similarly colored person. The world at large was indeed quite strange. "Yeah, I just got in town a few trials ago, still finding my way. I figured I'd look for the least reputable place and see if they've got a job for me." Ronan took a swig from his ale and put the mug back down.
"Well, this is a nice place. Everyone's very friendly here. I'm Mixiebelle, by the way. Everyone calls me Mixie." She extended her hand across the bar to him. A tiny, little, child hand compared to his. Ronan took hers, carefully, and shook it. "Ronan. Hopefully when your boss is finished we'll be colleagues." Mixie got called away to some other order after that and Ronan remained at the bar, sipping from his ale, which wasn't very good if he had to be honest, and simply watched the other patrons. Every now and then he'd catch one of them looking his way who promptly found something more interesting to look at when they saw him look at them. Benefits of the trade, perhaps. Ronan continued to stand at the bar, afraid the stool next to him might break under him if he did sit down on it.
There was sudden raise in volume from the conversation between the owner and the patrons and before he could properly react to the situation, the woman gave the man such a stare that he shrank in on himself. The conversation didn't last much longer after that. As the owner returned towards the bar, Mixie drew her attention and pointed towards him. Ronan nodded at the two women. There was a quick exchange of information and the owner walked over to him. "Busy evening. Mixie tells me you wanted to see me about something." Ronan stood up properly, regretting it instantly as he scraped his head against some lower hanging chandelier above him. Flickering and shifting flames above him played with the shadows below as he took a moment to look the owner up and down. "Well, I was looking for a job, a specific one, and couldn't find anywhere to do it. So then I asked where one might go to bet and I was promptly sent here."
The owner looked him over as he spoke, humming and nodding her attention towards him. "And what sort of job were you looking for that involves betting?" She didn't seem too impressed by his physique alone. "I'm a fighter, an arena fighter." Now, normally he would have thrown his Gladiator title in her face, something that came with a lot of respect and awe back home but he'd always felt sick to his stomach after saying so in the past, apparently it was a lie, so he'd learned to not do that anymore. Besides, who on this wash out, backwater island of a place would know what a gladiator even meant. They didn't even have an arena in this place. "And?" She remained unimpressed by his words so far. Just how far in the backwater was he here? "And I'm looking for a place where I can fight. For money. Since you already have a betting place set up I figured I'd ask here first. The way it used to work? You provide the location and the betting, I provide the fight. At the end, we share the winning, fifty-fifty."
The owner stared at him for a moment and suddenly barked a laugh. "The winnings? Are you so sure you'll be raking in the gold?" Ronan took another sip from his mug, getting to about halfway and put it back down. He shrugged at the woman. "I can't lie so the fact that I said it means it is the truth. If you'd like me to prove my worth to you first, I'd be happy to do an evening or two for only a tenth of the winnings so you can see just how much is made." The fact that he didn't feel sick to his stomach every time he said he was unable to lie just made it all the worse. Ronan pushed the thoughts back and focused on the woman in front of him. "You can announce some sort of tournament thing, people will flock to it, everyone likes a good fight, especially when there is a big prize at the end of it. Worst case scenario, some random guy wins your prize money while your establishment is full of happy and drinking people for the next few nights." He wasn't really good at these types of things. He could see that the woman wasn't convinced he could deliver. After all, untrained as she was she only saw big and muscular, nothing else.
Four in Hand
Scalvoris wasn't so big, the island scalvoris, not the city, the city was even smaller, and yet nobody could point him in the direction of a proper arena. It seemed that fighting for sport was not something that people did in Scalvoris. Ronan wondered what they did for fun around here then. Instead, he'd started asking for the next best thing: a place where bets were made. He quickly found his way to the Four in Hand when he switched his questions up. The place was far from the glorious Rynmere arena he'd spent the majority of his life in. It had only been after he'd left that he had come to understand just how expansive and majestic his home turf had been. Too late now. The massive, blue skinned man pushed the door open leading into the establishment.
The smell of losing coin wafted out as he entered the strangely shaped bar. The entire place seemed to have been made up from three or four different places, probably four if you looked at the name, and just put together under one roof. As per usual, heads turned as he walked in, drawn to one of the many outstanding physical features that made up the former gladiator. There was plenty to choose from, some things more obvious than others. Ronan ignored them all and looked around, identifying what passed for the bar in this place and walking over to it. "What'll it be?" The voice of a young lady piped up from behind the bar. "I'm looking for the owner." Ronan leaned down on the bar, throwing his shadow over the much smaller serving girl. "You'll have to get in line then. Anyway, a drink while you wait?" She nodded towards a blonde haired, blue skinned woman in an obviously heated discussion with some patrons.
"Trouble? I'll have a beer, by the way." He looked over to the woman talking with the patrons. The girl quickly poured him a drink and put it on the bar. "That'll be one silver, please. And I'm sure it won't be trouble for long. Anyway, I haven't seen you here before. Are you new in town?" Ronan pulled his attention away from the blonde haired, blue skinned woman. For the longest time he figured he'd gathered up the worst possible combination of physical traits from his parents and he was a true one of a kind person. Yet here he was looking at a similarly colored person. The world at large was indeed quite strange. "Yeah, I just got in town a few trials ago, still finding my way. I figured I'd look for the least reputable place and see if they've got a job for me." Ronan took a swig from his ale and put the mug back down.
"Well, this is a nice place. Everyone's very friendly here. I'm Mixiebelle, by the way. Everyone calls me Mixie." She extended her hand across the bar to him. A tiny, little, child hand compared to his. Ronan took hers, carefully, and shook it. "Ronan. Hopefully when your boss is finished we'll be colleagues." Mixie got called away to some other order after that and Ronan remained at the bar, sipping from his ale, which wasn't very good if he had to be honest, and simply watched the other patrons. Every now and then he'd catch one of them looking his way who promptly found something more interesting to look at when they saw him look at them. Benefits of the trade, perhaps. Ronan continued to stand at the bar, afraid the stool next to him might break under him if he did sit down on it.
There was sudden raise in volume from the conversation between the owner and the patrons and before he could properly react to the situation, the woman gave the man such a stare that he shrank in on himself. The conversation didn't last much longer after that. As the owner returned towards the bar, Mixie drew her attention and pointed towards him. Ronan nodded at the two women. There was a quick exchange of information and the owner walked over to him. "Busy evening. Mixie tells me you wanted to see me about something." Ronan stood up properly, regretting it instantly as he scraped his head against some lower hanging chandelier above him. Flickering and shifting flames above him played with the shadows below as he took a moment to look the owner up and down. "Well, I was looking for a job, a specific one, and couldn't find anywhere to do it. So then I asked where one might go to bet and I was promptly sent here."
The owner looked him over as he spoke, humming and nodding her attention towards him. "And what sort of job were you looking for that involves betting?" She didn't seem too impressed by his physique alone. "I'm a fighter, an arena fighter." Now, normally he would have thrown his Gladiator title in her face, something that came with a lot of respect and awe back home but he'd always felt sick to his stomach after saying so in the past, apparently it was a lie, so he'd learned to not do that anymore. Besides, who on this wash out, backwater island of a place would know what a gladiator even meant. They didn't even have an arena in this place. "And?" She remained unimpressed by his words so far. Just how far in the backwater was he here? "And I'm looking for a place where I can fight. For money. Since you already have a betting place set up I figured I'd ask here first. The way it used to work? You provide the location and the betting, I provide the fight. At the end, we share the winning, fifty-fifty."
The owner stared at him for a moment and suddenly barked a laugh. "The winnings? Are you so sure you'll be raking in the gold?" Ronan took another sip from his mug, getting to about halfway and put it back down. He shrugged at the woman. "I can't lie so the fact that I said it means it is the truth. If you'd like me to prove my worth to you first, I'd be happy to do an evening or two for only a tenth of the winnings so you can see just how much is made." The fact that he didn't feel sick to his stomach every time he said he was unable to lie just made it all the worse. Ronan pushed the thoughts back and focused on the woman in front of him. "You can announce some sort of tournament thing, people will flock to it, everyone likes a good fight, especially when there is a big prize at the end of it. Worst case scenario, some random guy wins your prize money while your establishment is full of happy and drinking people for the next few nights." He wasn't really good at these types of things. He could see that the woman wasn't convinced he could deliver. After all, untrained as she was she only saw big and muscular, nothing else.
