The Man in Gold stared out from the empty room at Baron's arrival, his featureless red eyes did not betray where he was looking at specifically, but the grimace on his face seemed to bespeak that he was watching the crowd around Baron with a distinct dislike. He didn't like crowds, and he especially didn't like crowds around people that he knew; he had made too many enemies to not expect the possible kidnapping and later torture of anyone that could reveal information about him.
Still, it didn't look like the crowd in general, or any of the people that he could see in it, were inclined to try that on Baron; that may have been because the man looked like he could hold his own in a dangerous situation, and maybe it was because the Man in Gold was just in the next room. Maybe he was just being overly cynical, and none of his enemies were hoping to steal Baron away and torture news out of him. In any case, he continued to eat the food slowly and watch the people flock around Baron and chatter excitedly.
Still, it didn't look like the crowd in general, or any of the people that he could see in it, were inclined to try that on Baron; that may have been because the man looked like he could hold his own in a dangerous situation, and maybe it was because the Man in Gold was just in the next room. Maybe he was just being overly cynical, and none of his enemies were hoping to steal Baron away and torture news out of him. In any case, he continued to eat the food slowly and watch the people flock around Baron and chatter excitedly.
Sitting next to the men Zacharie was talking to, Zacharie had told his clients what happened last night. "...I swear it's true, that guy sitting right there punched a truck back! And his arm is made of metal! Oh right, whaddya want to drink? Beer?" he then suddenly asked. Baron shook his head "Thank you for the offer, but boxers don't drink. I'll take any kind of tea, your waitress will pick one for me, just like yesterday." he answered, Zacharie called the waitress to take Baron's order as she quickly brought a tea with a red-ish color. Baron thanked the waitress that was already gone, taking other orders. He heard the men next to him laughing, saying that Zacharie had too many drinks last night. "Whaaaat! I wasn't drunk, I swear! C'mon kid, show them your arm!" He nearly shouted as every eyes turned around to look at Baron, who was already trying to come up with a solution in his head. 'This is bad... Think Pierre, think!' "Err... umm... Well, what would you do if I did have a metal arm that could stop a truck driving at full speed by punching into it?" Baron asked as one of the man in front of him said in a serious tone "I'd probably call the cops, that could be pretty dangerous ya know." while another man burst out laughing, "The cops? I'd probably call the USA and tell them they forgot Captain America in Germany, ha!". 'The police? The strongest country in the world? I'm definitely not showing them my arm.' Baron thought as he laughed along the man to make his lie seems more real, "Worry not, gentlemen, I don't have a metal arm. Actually I don't have an arm at all, which is why I always wear this cape, I really dislike showing it and seeing other pity me." he answered as the whole tavern became silent and looked badly at Zacharie, who had an awkward smile on his face. 'Oh darn, I made the situation even worse.' "But um I DID save this gentleman over there from a truck, I pulled him right before the truck hit him, but I pulled him with too much strength and sent him head first into a tree by accident, knocking him out, which may have affected his memories!" Baron finally said, hearing a few "ooh" and "ah, that explains everything" as the tavern began to be as loud as before. Baron mentally sighed in relief as he began drinking his tea. "Tastes like red berries, one of my favorite. Oh right, Zacharie, the mother told me that you should come more often to her house as she did enjoy your company." Zacharie blinked twice before he spoke "Are... Are you an angel? First you save my life, then you give me a chance to have a relation with a divorced woman? Thanks God, you're the best man! I should pray more often, heh.". The waitress suddenly called Zacharie's name in an angry voice, which made him flinch. "I guess God isn't totally happy with me. Anyway this might take some time so relax and enjoy your drink." Zacharie said as he ran toward the angered woman.
Baron took a sip of his tea before looking at the man in armor from yesterday, he thought it would be rude of him to not greet the man, so he took his cup in his mouth, his sandbag and his bag in his left hand as he made mad his way to the man's table. He carefully dropped the nearly full cup on the table before talking. "Hello good sir, do you mind if I sit there?"
Baron took a sip of his tea before looking at the man in armor from yesterday, he thought it would be rude of him to not greet the man, so he took his cup in his mouth, his sandbag and his bag in his left hand as he made mad his way to the man's table. He carefully dropped the nearly full cup on the table before talking. "Hello good sir, do you mind if I sit there?"
The Man in Gold had watched the proceedings with a slightly amused expression, but when the crowd broke up and Baron stood over the table, he looked at the man and gestures with one hand to a seat across from him. The other was loosely clutching a fork over his mostly-empty plate of food. His helmet was beside him once more, and a second cup of tea was near his plate; it was empty, though the smell of spices still lingered around the area.
"Avail yourself of the chair, I won't mind. It looks like you've gotten yourself a number of friends here, though I don't know any of them myself. Talking with people can be so...tiresome," he said with a pause to eat, then resumed speaking to Baron, "not that I'm saying anything about you. If I didn't want your company, I would tell you to go talk to them," he jerked his head to the main room of the bar, "and leave me be."
There was a pause as he ate and thought of something to say in the meantime. The server came to the table with a fresh cup of tea, then turned to Baron with a question as to if he would like anything; although the place didn't serve food, a guest of the Man in Gold could usually be granted unusual wishes, such as ordering from the cafe nearby.
"Avail yourself of the chair, I won't mind. It looks like you've gotten yourself a number of friends here, though I don't know any of them myself. Talking with people can be so...tiresome," he said with a pause to eat, then resumed speaking to Baron, "not that I'm saying anything about you. If I didn't want your company, I would tell you to go talk to them," he jerked his head to the main room of the bar, "and leave me be."
There was a pause as he ate and thought of something to say in the meantime. The server came to the table with a fresh cup of tea, then turned to Baron with a question as to if he would like anything; although the place didn't serve food, a guest of the Man in Gold could usually be granted unusual wishes, such as ordering from the cafe nearby.
Baron didn't want anything for now and told the waitress so as she then got back to work. 'Not liking to talk with people? Hmm...' "I guess it makes sense that you don't like talking to people, since you were a king, I'm sure you had to deal a lot with your people and had to debate with them as well. Thank you for your kind words though.". He started thinking while taking a sip of his cup of tea and thought it might be a good idea to ask the man for some advice in the futur, he had a lot of experience with fights. Baron put his cup back on the table and stared a second at the man before talkin. "...Did you ever get in a situation where you were weaponless against an ennemi wearing a sword or such and had to fight only with your fists? Since I'm traveling the world, I'm going to meet many other arts of fighting, some of them using weapons, so I want to know how you dealt, or if you didn't, how you would have dealt with them?" Baron looked at the ceiling for a moment, thoughtful, before staring back at the man. "Well I don't think sharp or blunt weapons are going to be a problem for me because of my right arm, but what about ranged weapons?"
He waited patiently for Baron to finish speaking, then calmly finished his meal before speaking. The waitress had a fresh cup of tea for him once he was done, and he drank it carefully. Afterwards, he leaned back in the seat and thought for a moment, then spoke.
"You see the armor? You could fire guns at it, take the sharpest blades you could find and strike away at it for hours, even throw grenades at it. I've worn it for nearly my entire life, and it's still holding up; if you wanted to even hope of doing any sort of damage to me, you'd have to catch me without the armor, and that's not an easy thing to do. So, yes, I've faced countless situations where I was unarmed, facing armed opponents, but I came out on top because, quite simply, they couldn't hurt me."
He paused, leaned forward to get another sip, then mulled over the tea for a moment before he spoke again. There was a tone of caution in his voice, outside of the usual raspy grumble.
"But, a good defense, contrary to the phrase, only goes so far; you need a decent enough offense, or else you'll be caught in a stalemate. My advice is to take sword blows on your metal arm, since it'll withstand a sharp blade better than skin and flesh, and to rush for the swordsman's center; if you're quick enough, you can catch him when he's raising his sword to strike again, then catch him in the solar plexus with a punch, knock the wind out of him."
He finished the tea, got another cup almost immediately from the server, and set it aside, near his helmet. There were a couple of glances from people in the main room now, possibly directed at his skin tone or the fact that he seemed to be getting the speediest service in the place; the Man in Gold paid them no mind, or, at least, didn't show it. His eyes made it impossible to tell whether he was watching the people in his peripheral vision or just ignoring them altogether.
"For ranged weapons, taking a hit is never easy. Still, if you're quick enough and can get a good idea of where they're firing, you can use that arm of yours to your advantage. Again, metal blocks things better than skin and flesh; it may get a little dented, but you'll be alive. The problem with getting close to them is that, with weapons such as guns, you'll be hard-pressed to get in a good hit on them until they reload. Still, if you're going into a gunfight with just your fists," he paused, snorted, then shook his head, "you must have some sort of deathwish or something."
"You see the armor? You could fire guns at it, take the sharpest blades you could find and strike away at it for hours, even throw grenades at it. I've worn it for nearly my entire life, and it's still holding up; if you wanted to even hope of doing any sort of damage to me, you'd have to catch me without the armor, and that's not an easy thing to do. So, yes, I've faced countless situations where I was unarmed, facing armed opponents, but I came out on top because, quite simply, they couldn't hurt me."
He paused, leaned forward to get another sip, then mulled over the tea for a moment before he spoke again. There was a tone of caution in his voice, outside of the usual raspy grumble.
"But, a good defense, contrary to the phrase, only goes so far; you need a decent enough offense, or else you'll be caught in a stalemate. My advice is to take sword blows on your metal arm, since it'll withstand a sharp blade better than skin and flesh, and to rush for the swordsman's center; if you're quick enough, you can catch him when he's raising his sword to strike again, then catch him in the solar plexus with a punch, knock the wind out of him."
He finished the tea, got another cup almost immediately from the server, and set it aside, near his helmet. There were a couple of glances from people in the main room now, possibly directed at his skin tone or the fact that he seemed to be getting the speediest service in the place; the Man in Gold paid them no mind, or, at least, didn't show it. His eyes made it impossible to tell whether he was watching the people in his peripheral vision or just ignoring them altogether.
"For ranged weapons, taking a hit is never easy. Still, if you're quick enough and can get a good idea of where they're firing, you can use that arm of yours to your advantage. Again, metal blocks things better than skin and flesh; it may get a little dented, but you'll be alive. The problem with getting close to them is that, with weapons such as guns, you'll be hard-pressed to get in a good hit on them until they reload. Still, if you're going into a gunfight with just your fists," he paused, snorted, then shook his head, "you must have some sort of deathwish or something."
Baron calmly drank his tea while the man spoke as he listened to his advice. 'That armor is really tough then... And predicting where the opponent will fire the bullet? Well it's definitely worth trying.' he thought as he put the cup back on the table, half empty. "A deathwish? No, nothing like that. It's all about my pride as a boxer, sir. Of course, I do understand that it's reckless and I know the risks I'm taking but I'll fight as a boxer, not as some street fighter." He took another sip of his tea before speaking again. "And even if I do take one bullet, I won't go down easily. Oh and about the arm, it probably won't get dented by bullets, Professor told me it was sturdier than a military tank."
He paused for a second, crossing his arms under his cape and looked at his drink, simulating in his head fighting someone with a machine gun, and seeing himself filled with bullets in an instant. 'Yuck...' he quickly shook his head as if to erase those thoughts and looked back at the man. "Hopefully, my opponents will use slow guns or one without much ammo, such as a six shooter, or even a rocket launcher. I doubt I would manage to parry bullets coming from a machine gun with my arm, it's humanly impossible to react to bullets fast enough anyway... Your armor seems amazingly tough, what is it made of?"
He paused for a second, crossing his arms under his cape and looked at his drink, simulating in his head fighting someone with a machine gun, and seeing himself filled with bullets in an instant. 'Yuck...' he quickly shook his head as if to erase those thoughts and looked back at the man. "Hopefully, my opponents will use slow guns or one without much ammo, such as a six shooter, or even a rocket launcher. I doubt I would manage to parry bullets coming from a machine gun with my arm, it's humanly impossible to react to bullets fast enough anyway... Your armor seems amazingly tough, what is it made of?"
The Man in Gold slid his helmet across the table so that it was directly in front of him, then tapped thoughtfully on its surface before he spoke. There was a certain distant note in his tone, as though he was speaking more to himself, as a reminder, than he was to Baron, although if his guest made any sudden movements, he noticed them.
"It's made of adamantine, Baron, more than 13,000 years ago. Now, to understand just how tough it is, you have to understand that adamantine can only be worked from ore into refined metal, and then shaped into armor and weapons and things, when it's just short of being molten. You may have seen metal get hot enough to glow orange, perhaps around...well, they haven't had blacksmith shops on this planet, at least in this region, for many years. The point is, my armor could, and has, taken impacts up to a direct hit from a cannon ball. It's also incredibly heavy and difficult to move in. There are advantages to being a walking tank, but I've got the body pain to show for the disadvantages."
"It's made of adamantine, Baron, more than 13,000 years ago. Now, to understand just how tough it is, you have to understand that adamantine can only be worked from ore into refined metal, and then shaped into armor and weapons and things, when it's just short of being molten. You may have seen metal get hot enough to glow orange, perhaps around...well, they haven't had blacksmith shops on this planet, at least in this region, for many years. The point is, my armor could, and has, taken impacts up to a direct hit from a cannon ball. It's also incredibly heavy and difficult to move in. There are advantages to being a walking tank, but I've got the body pain to show for the disadvantages."
"Hmm, I've never heard of such a thing called adamantine. I do remember the professor muttering before I went to sleep how the USA were stupid to try that project adamantium and that they were doing it wrong." Baron answered, a hand scratching his chin as he thought about what the man said. '13,000 years old and it's been in plenty of fights? Seems like it must have lost quite a bit of its toughness.' "But that armor's bad for your body too, right? You shoud take it off once in a while, it probably will do good for your body."
The Man in Gold grunted at Baron's response, then, after a moment's consideration, stood from the booth and grabbed his helmet. The thing caught the gleam of the light in the room, and the black horsehair wig set into it swayed gently as the old man held it close.
"I grow tired of chattering like a couple of aging spinsters, Baron. Let's walk and talk, it will do my knees some good to get out of that cramped seat, and I might even come across something productive."
The server interrupted with a fresh cup of tea, which he held up a hand to refuse, then growled at the woman to leave them be and to put the expenses on his tab. She hurried off, then the tall man put on his helmet and fastened it before he turned back to Baron.
"Let's go, human. I have no further wish to sit and talk. We may talk later, when I've reached my contact, but if you have your own pressing matters to attend to, I won't keep you."
"I grow tired of chattering like a couple of aging spinsters, Baron. Let's walk and talk, it will do my knees some good to get out of that cramped seat, and I might even come across something productive."
The server interrupted with a fresh cup of tea, which he held up a hand to refuse, then growled at the woman to leave them be and to put the expenses on his tab. She hurried off, then the tall man put on his helmet and fastened it before he turned back to Baron.
"Let's go, human. I have no further wish to sit and talk. We may talk later, when I've reached my contact, but if you have your own pressing matters to attend to, I won't keep you."
Baron nodded, stood up, quickly told the waitress to thank Zacharie for him and that the tea was good before he followed the man. 'I hope I didn't say anything to make him angry. I'll have to admit that sitting down to talk isn't usually my thing too...' Baron walked along the man silently, deep in his thoughts, mumbling to himself from time to time. 'I wonder if my gloves still fit my hands? Probably will get torn by my right hand, and I don't want that. Ugh, I just want to fight right now.'
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