D-rank: Lose a Fight! Defeat at the hands of a Loser!

The client in question was standing in a backalley between a potion shop and a kid friendly mascot themed restraunt looking rather testy as he watched each passerby with suspicion though also occasionly hoping one of them was the mage he had hired, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. This man looked like a rather shady character, with shifty eyes, an unwashed face, the smell of grease wafting from him, and his clothes. His clothes in question were a duffle coat, a beanie hat a stained shirt as well as a boring pair of shoes and trousers, besides the fact that there was a hole where one of his toes poked through his left shoe. "Bloomin 'eck, where is that mage? Don't tell me he gone an' done a runna'! The money's good and all he ha' ta do is make it look convincin'! Hope I dun' hafta wait here all day!", the man grumbled to himself as rubbed his hands again.

A man a blue, almost priestly garb pushed his way through the crowd, attempting to maneuver his way to a supposed meeting place. He managed to coax his way into an alleyway, dusting the dirt off his clothes as he did. "Why I have to meet my employer in a place like this, I'll never understand, but... I suppose it will have to do." He stepped forward, before clearly stating, "I'm here for the job. You needed someone to take a fall?" The man chuckled at himself, certain that, although his magic was fairly decent for a D rank mage, he could make any fight look convincing. "I'm quite ready. Can I ask for instructions?"

The shady looking client stared in surpsie at the mage for a few moments; prompting himself to say; "Ya' wha'? You're havin' a laugh mate! You'r really a well hard mage? Eh, suppose you must be good at fightin'.", the man sighed to himself. He shook his head before continuing; "Anyways, im Jack yeah? My big bruv is pretty mopey, just acting like a big weeping lump all the time, so long story short, you take a look from him as a challenge yeah? and you go right up to him and start on him yeah? Then you challenge him to sort it outside, the pair of ya have a bit of thrashing, then ya take a dive. But don't make it obvious, or my bruv will figure it out. And then ye can forget the dosh! I'll make sure he gets a butchers of ya so ya can do that duel stuff, and i'll be sitting next to him in the pub over there all right? Got it then?" Jack finished the question with proding the mage a few times with his finger, before looking round the place to check if anyone decided to listen in.

Gunther was reduced to simply stopping and staring in an attempt to translate what the man was saying into proper English. The client's accent was so thick and pervasive he wasn't quite able to discern the particulars of his assignment that well. "So, in summary, I need to enter that pub and challenge your brother to a match. Following that, we would move outside, where we would begin the fight. I should attempt to make it as realistic as possible, and then take a fall when it is most opportune." Gunther folded his arms, looking at his client carefully. "Am I correct?" He was wondering exactly what sort of magic his brother used, and if the use of it could potentially be fatal. One would simply have to assume that it wasn't deadly, or wouldn't be deadly under most circumstances.

"If I understand you correctly, I'm prepared to get underway." Gunther twitched a little bit as the man poked him. He smelled and, quite honestly, looked completely filthy. The sooner this was over with, the better.

"Eh? I think ya go' it but ya speak wierd. Just talk nomral yeah?", Jack said to Gunther without a hint of irony. He then signaled Gunther to follow him into the pub and then whispered to him; "First you head to the bar and get a drink, I'll start talkin' bad about ya yeah? Then I'll go on to say how brill my ruv is yeah? Then thats where you start with the fighting." He then walked through the doors, ingnoring Gunther completely and happily calling out to a nearby table; "Oi oi! How are ya Jake!", walking over to the table where his brother resided, slumped on it with an expression of depression.

"I'll... try?" Gunther replied, really in more of the tone of a question than a statement. After the client left him to enter the pub, Gunther stood there scratching his head. The man clearly didn't notice he spoke with a thick accent. Though, Gunther realized, to him it must not seem like an accent. Deciding he had waited long enough, Gunther entered the pub as discreetly as possible before moving to a seat at the end of the bar. He never went to places like this, so the procedures involved confused him. He didn't bother ordering anything, and instead checked his bag to make sure his two cards were available.

It made him angry he hadn't figured out how to unleash the magical energy of the other cards, but he was certain he'd figure it out over time. He began taking infrequent, but fairly regular glances at the client's brother. This whole setup thing was a whole lot more trouble than he had expected.

As Jack was making small talk with Jake, a man with many cigarettes in his mouth at once, very pale skin, a weathered gloomy face with messy greassy neck length hair, including his fringe which covered both of his eyes, wore a dull brown overcoat a pair of jeans and some running trainners, Jack nodded over to Gunther just as Jake looked away, going on to loudly say; "Hang on a minute, that bloke by the bar's been lookin' at ya funny bruv! Oi mate ya got a problem with my bruv? Well say it to our faces! Cmon, ya scared just coz he's a brilliant smoke magic mage?", he ended, his aqusation directed at Gunther, who then gave him a wink as if to say he should play along.

Gunther breathed deeply, calming himself. He felt like everyone's attention was on him, even though he hadn't even done anything yet. He heard his client call him out for looking at his brother weirdly, and Gunther thought, It's time, isn't it? Gunther brushed the question off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Scared? Hardly. I'm not intimidated by his magic... it's the filth clinging to his hair and clothing that's got me unsettled." Insults weren't normally Gunther's cup of tea, but he was supposed to provoke a fight, and may the gods damn it if insults weren't the most effective impetus he would find.

Much to Jack's suprise, Jake looked more saddened than than angry, and merely rolled to face his back to Gunther, much to Jacks worry. He decided to keep at the act though, and challenge Gunther anyways, on his brothers behalf ofcourse. "Ya callin my bruv fiflthy? Ya take that back you priss! Cmon ya pansy, you lookin for a fight? My bruv could take ya any day, anywhere, and any time! Plus he ain't had any dinner yet and he'll still batter ya! Cmon then, if ya think your hard enough!", Jake bellowed in a pantomine rage, begining to square up to Gunther.

Gunther chuckled to himself, though made it loud enough that it sounded mocking. He didn't really get how this was supposed to work, especially if the 'target' was actually becoming more depressed rather than interested in a fight. "If his magic is half as good as he smells, he'd be a Wizard Saint! I'm positive I could best him in a magic battle, are you sure you want to humilate him?"

(Crap post is crap, sorry. Also, overdue.)

(no Problemo Gael, I get a bit forgetful and struggle to post too lol)
Despite Jake's increasing glumness and the view of the back of his head becoming more common, Jack carried on his challenge going on to taunt; "Ha! The only one who's gona' to be hmuili- humiliated, is you an your rubbish magic! In fact I bet he could beat ya down outside, right now! Though I bet your too chicken! Ya cowardly, uh, jerk!" He then motioned with his head to the dorr to outside the pub, and then glanced over to it again. "Cmon, what are ya? A big cry baby?", he added exhaustedly, struggling for anymore jeers, begining to think he should of scripted something first.

"Fine then." Without looking, as he was customarily accustomed to, Gunther reached towards his satchel and pulled out two of his tarot cards. He held them up at an awkward angle to his body, saying, "My Card Magic will beat your brother's Smoke Magic easily... that is, if he thinks he even wants to try." Gunther noticed Jake wasn't very excited about the idea of a battle, and was wondering if he'd even be able to technically start the job if the planned winner didn't even want to fight. "Unless you want to disgrace your entire family by not taking me up on this..." He shrugged. "It isn't my problem, of course. I'll meet you outside if you want to keep your family's dignity."

With that, Gunther made a move to move out of the bar, hoping his bait would be taken.

"Ha! He'll fight ya and take ya down in seconds! Ain't that right bruv? Cmon, you show that card shark what your made of!", Jack exclaimed enthusiasticly, dragging Jake outside the pub, who almost stumbled his way to face Gunther.
Jake sighed and then mumbled to his brother; "Are you sure about this Jack? I haven't used magic since I got kicked out of the guild. I might not even be able to use it properly anymore."
Jack sighed before telling Jake encouragingly; "Don't worry bruv, this guy seems like a complete rubbish wizard. Bet even I could bet him and I don't use magic, yeah? Go on bruv, he'll be down with one pucnh he will!"
He then turned to Gunther and snarled; "Cmon on then! Take the first shot if ya think your hard enough!"