Jacob tries not to grin back, although it's always hard when someone pretty smiles at you not to return it. At least right now he has an apt distraction- the man he's going to fight stepping forward, letting Jacob size him up. Taller than him, older than him, just as broad. But heavier set, meatier. He's fought the type before, back home, so he feels confident enough in what he's doing.

The tavern patrons have moved some of the tables out of the way, forming an irregular space for the bout. It means most of the chairs and stools aren't as easy to grab, but they're not going to be falling over them either. That's probably for the best.

He shifts to free his cloak, undoing the pin that holds it, and then removes the two leather gauntlets from his wrists. He balls them together, and then holds them out to Wen Kexing.

"Don't let those out of your sight." He says, voice low. He does not want his hidden blade going missing, but he trusts Wen Kexing to keep a close eye on his things.

And then he's squaring up to the other thug, circling for a few seconds, and then the other man moves in- a feign, but an obvious one that Jacob's expecting. In the movement to just shift out of his path, Jacob brings his fist around, catching the other man in the side. The watchers laugh, cheer, jeer, but Jacob ignores it, eyes focusing on his opponent.