RP:Fight On!

Background

Joliette Thorne decides to revamp the Vailkrin Arena with a monthly fight challenge - but who will be the Arena Master?

Kelay Tavern

Jolie finished pinning yet another note to the board and headed tiredly toward the bar, slapping the counter in her customary call for two shots of the usual.

Neriren said to Jolie, “I can do that.”

Neriren is observant, and quick. Comment is made moments after Jolie's notice is posted.

Jolie said to Neriren, "Hm?"

Neriren said to Jolie, "I can be organized, responsible, promotional and amoral enough to manage your little brawler ring."

Jolie leant an elbow to the timber and eyed the elf. "Amoral. See - I need somebody I can trust. There's a lot of gold involved." She studied the elf with a blatant sort of perusal, while she sipped her drink.

Kohna heads to the bar, himself, and orders something strong. Mesthak elbows the barman and nods his head to indicate Kohna. Soon enough, the entire staff is keeping one eye on the half-elf. It seems his first visit had made an impression on the employees and owner of the local tavern. He seats himself at the bar, far enough away from the other patrons that they cannot find him forward, but close enough that he isn't shunning their company. Nancy brings the bottle over, serving the anomaly herself. Just as before, the half-elf pours onto the bar and takes the form of a glass of normal, unremarkable stature. The stunned barmaid takes a moment ot catch her wits before pouring. Those who had seen him do it before laughed at her reaction. Slowly, the glass sips itself, letting the burn of alcohol seep into its. . .Do glasses have stomachs?

Eboric steps into the tavern, pushing past the doors to look around the room, studying each face with scorn. He crosses to read the board, then turns to settle on a stool at the bar, calling loudly for his morning ale.

Neriren raps his fingers briefly against the tabletop behind which his person is seated, and ends with a casual shrug, "Amoral in the sense I have no immediate quarrel with managing the facilitation of having the willing batter each other for the monetary gain of themselves and others, provided others includes me, which it would. I am not going to betray an institution under which my labour results in profit. It also seems quite unwise to manipulate the confidence of one who has influence in Vailkrin, such as you, a place where I don't envision it being difficult to find somebody thug enough to have me tracked and killed for a pittance."

Jolie gave Eboric scorn right back. In her periphery she glimpsed.. what the...?

Jolie returned her icy gaze to the elf. "Are you always that gabby?" Her chill perusal then found that .. glass. Drinking itself. Over there. She wondered just how much she'd had to drink last night..

Neriren gives a firm shake of his head. "No," he responds, letting silence hang before him for a moment before adding, "I am not. Usually. I have occasional compulsions-, I mean, no."

Jolie's lips curved to a faint smile, and she slowly turned to the elf. "I'll hold tryouts for the position. Organise one fight match. Promote it. I'll hire the one who draws the best crowd, the best fights."

Kohna having finished his drink, returns to his default form and sits down on the stool once more to eye the newcomers casually. The cat is dismissed as no threat, but a potential source of discourse. The other, though, definitely a fight waiting to happen.

Eboric watches Kohna, his face unreadable. Receiving his ale, he sips at it, still watching the strange...person.

Jolie threw a peanut at Eboric when he wasn't looking.

Neriren 's hand lifts in stroke of his chin, and turns to view the other patrons present in the tavern, with occasional glances to the public board.

Jolie was busy sipping her drink all of a sudden, then.

Kohna returns the stare, and walks steadily over to the man. Despite the distinct difference in size, the half-elf looks directly into the barbarian's eyes. "I'm new around here. You look like you could hold your own in a fight. We will spar, as regularly as we have time. Just to let you know. I need to get back into shape, if you'll excuse the pun."

Eboric's head whips around, shooting a glare toward both Jolie and Neriren, unsure as to who threw the nut. Defiantly, he picks it up from the bar and eats it, noisily.

Jolie heard that. She shot a look to the elf - name unknown as yet - as if to say 'well?'

Kohna turns and walks back, without another word.

Neriren said to Jolie, "I assume you want an impressive spectacle. The skinny half-blood will not be so."

Jolie set her drink down, folded her arms and raised a brow, to complete the look of expectation. She paused, unfolded one hand and pointed its slender forefinger at Eboric. "There's your spectacle. If the skinny one ends in blood, all the better."

Eboric turns back to see Kohna, a sneer already forming on his lips. "We can fight," he allows. "But only when and if I say so. And I may well kill you, for fun."

Neriren said to Eboric, "-You-, however, are one of impressive stature. How would you like to make some gold?"

Eboric said to Neriren, "Oh, I would not say no."

Kohna stares directly ahead, but replies to the gossip behind him. "I already said I wasn't in shape, so the odds against me would be a little weighted would they not?"

Eboric said to Neriren, "Find me a more worthy opponent."

Neriren lifts a hand in dismiss of Jolie's proposition, then claps both of his together in a show of delight, "wonderful! You may of deduced that fights are soon to be held in Vailkrin, and I believe you," Neriren leans eagerly forward, with a finger trained on the barbarian, "have what it takes to rend through an endless trail of this land's greatest warriors! And, I might add, become rich in the process. Sound inviting?"

Neriren said to Eboric, "Oh, I will. I have many in mind. Many famous persons, of legend old and new."

Jolie heard the .. glass.. did she really see that?... or half-elf, and intruded with a comment, "You'll only get better by training. I have an arena you can use.”

Kohna turns to give Jolie a look. "Seriously? He's going to run from a half-elf's challenge? You're not seriously thinking of hiring Mr. I-love-your-muscles as an event coordinator? He asks the meek to fight, and dismisses the willing. No show, there."

Jolie snapped her fingers toward the elf, calling for his attention but not wishing to spoil his present spiel.

Eboric snorts loudly. "I have already done that, elf. But a blade grows dull in its sheath, and perhaps you will be able to trick a few more into facing me. Perhaps if you do not tell them who they are to fight, you will get more to agree. I will fight in your arena, for as long as it pleases me."

Jolie smiled at Kohna, an expression like crocodiles offering charitable accommodation. "Think you can do better? Organise me a fight. Draw a crowd. We shall see."

Kohna said to Jolie, "I wasn't asking for a place to train, I was trying to up the odds, make a little gold when I win. The underdog taking a victory. Always a crowd-pleaser. . .except in executions."

Jolie liked the sound of that. Smart. "So we have two contenders for a fat wage and a position of note. Sounds like a worthy battle in itself."

Eboric said to Kohna, "If you want to fight, we will fight, but I will not show you mercy."

Kohna said, "Very well. . .I shall do so, but I won't relegate myself to begging the skittish."

Neriren smiles, and nods in agreement, "Of course. I shall announce the fight to take place as soon as I have secured an opponent. I am considering that it should take place one week hence... Though much later in the day." Jolie's gesture is noted, and in response she is given a lofted brow.

Jolie crooked her finger and thereby summoned the elf.

Neriren slips from his seat to approach the woman, with the darkwood wand he favours gripped within the fingers of a hand that retreats into an overhanging robe sleeve.

Kohna taps his fingers on the bar-top, keeping count of how many seconds it takes for the jibbering elf to stop for a breath.

Jolie eyed Neriren. "Draw that wand in your sleeve, and I'll turn your brain to a lump of black ice. Now... how this works. If the half-elf there ..." she gestured toward Kohna, ".. would contend with you for the Arena Master's position, then we shall say there will be two events. Next week, yours. The week after his. I shall decide then who between you is the Master. The ... other may have to be content with being employed under the Master, if he is willing. How does this sound?" Her shift of glance included Kohna. "And I'll need both your names, for goodness' sake. I am Joliette Thorne."

Neriren looks to Kohna, and shrugs. "Seems fair... My name is Neriren Narisae. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Thorne."

Kohna said, "I would rather be one of the fighters, but if my event is successful, I'll accept the position of 'Master'." He focuses on Miss Thorne. "I go by Kohna. Simple, easy, and it's what my sister called me."

Jolie said, "Then you will need to hear my terms. The Arena Master shall recive two thousand gold per fight and half of what he makes on every promotion. The responsibility for paying his staff is his own. Fights... I would like to see bloody swordfights, axes... strong men, battling each other without the aid of magics. This is what I want my arena famed for. Mighty champions of renown to wear my favour and roars of adulation from the crowd..." Her eyes had taken a slightly starry look. Jolie shook her head, focussing again. "Those are the terms."

Kohna bows to the Lady Thorne. "Your reputation does you no justice, and now, I fear I must depart. May your sails take you safely by, and never silence."

Neriren said, "And now I must vacate."

Jolie nodded dismissal to both men, and sipped her drink once more.

Jolie glanced to Eboric. "...I have a reputation?"