In comparison with some of the things they put into alcohol back home, pickle juice really isn't the worst thing ever. But listening to the posh bastard trying to persuade the barman makes the situation far more palatable, his entreaties falling on deaf ears. He's really quite lucky that the brawl starts before someone can spit in his drink, which is what would have happened in Whitechapel.
A veteran of many bar fights, Jacob is on his feet as soon as the first fist is swung, before anyone can start using the furniture as makeshift weaponry.
The dress (yes, yes it's a robe, but dress tends to wind people up) wearing man looks like he's not much use in a fight like this, which makes him more of a target for regular patrons. Jacob doesn't actually want to see anyone die tonight, let alone one of the Merchant's new friends, so as soon as he spots someone aiming a chair at the wine snob, he kicks the legs out from under them.
"Not a fan of the local brew?" He asks joyfully, as he picks up that chair and throws it in the direction of a woman holding a knife. "Because if you think the wine is bad, you should order the food."
TAVERN!!!
A veteran of many bar fights, Jacob is on his feet as soon as the first fist is swung, before anyone can start using the furniture as makeshift weaponry.
The dress (yes, yes it's a robe, but dress tends to wind people up) wearing man looks like he's not much use in a fight like this, which makes him more of a target for regular patrons. Jacob doesn't actually want to see anyone die tonight, let alone one of the Merchant's new friends, so as soon as he spots someone aiming a chair at the wine snob, he kicks the legs out from under them.
"Not a fan of the local brew?" He asks joyfully, as he picks up that chair and throws it in the direction of a woman holding a knife. "Because if you think the wine is bad, you should order the food."