As Reska had left another younger page had come up to the group. They barely seemed more than twelve and clearly were working at the guild as a runner or messenger.
"I'm sorry to disturb you. But Mr Rackham, the man that requested the aid in Freebourne. He wanted to speak with the group before departure tomorrow... He's down in the pit. If you'd like to follow me?"
As the page lead them back to the training area, they could hear shouting and yelling upon going back outside. A circle was formed around two men that seemed to be fighting. Their shirts had been stripped off and both men circled one another, seeming to be sizing the other one up.
The first of the two was significantly larger. He also wasn't likely fully human either. It was possible the man had some percentage of Ogre or other larger humanoid in his blood line. He was much broader than the other man, and probably towered over him by nearly a foot in height. He was bald and barely had any sign of body hair. What he lacked in hair however he made up in tattoos over the upper torso of his body.
The second man was clearly human. Facial hair and various scars of battle were visible across his back and chest despite the thicker chest hair. He also had a red mark or tattoo of some sort across the bridge of his nose. Despite the clear physical disadvantage he had he seemed to be eager to start the exchange.
The two men went at each other like a bare knuckle boxing match. Body blows and punches across the face were exchanged multiple times before one of the men started to take the upper hand. The larger half-ogre of a man started pounding the other man down. Sickening thuds that seemed to echo through the entire back section of the guild area. The other man feel to a knee for a moment.
The man's eyes flash red for a split second as he looked down at the ground, if someone wasnt paying attention they likely would have missed it. Giving all the excitement and yelling no one else around him seemed to notice it. He spat out a bit of blood and wiped it from his mouth. The blood on his hand seemed to glow a bit brighter as he clenched his fist.
The man rolled back up to his feet, seemingly reinvigorated. He slammed a punch into the half-ogre's ribs that caused him to stumble back. The crack of bone could be heard like a gunshot. A second and third punch followed at a blazing speed that seemed almost unnaturally fast. The bearded man turned and jumped at a crate using it vault up for height. He came back down and around with a punch that cracked the larger man's jaw and sent him twisting on his feet and down to the ground in a daze.
The half-ogre moaned a bit of a sound but showed no signs of getting back to his feet. The crowd of guild members erupted into shouts again. The "referee" if there was even such a thing in the brawl that just occurred, ran over and held up his arm.
Stepping over the fallen man, Rackam went about retrieving his shirt and the rest of his gear. He also got several coins from numerous guild members. Most of them with less than happy expressions about the exchange. As he got the last of his winnings, his vision glanced over towards where the page was with the women. The side of his mouth curling up into a bit of a smirk.
Better luck next time there Chuck...
ugh...Screw you Rackam... owww
I'm an expensive date...keep that in mind..
He laughed as he stepped over the Ogre-man once again. His fellow guild buddies finally trying to lift him back up to his feet. Rackam looked like he might start to slip his shirt back on as he made his way over, however he stopped and just draped it over his shoulder.
Ladies...
He gave somewhat of a slight bow in greeting.
J.T. Rackam. Ship Mage and Navigator to the King's Royal Navy, The S.S. Kessel. And at one time a fellow Black Sheep, such as yourselves. I do apologize that you had to witness just vulgar brutality. Though sadly, sometimes the aggression of men can build up over time at sea, if they don't have...other means... to relieve their stress.
He smiled again.