There were some things in life that Jack just couldn’t tolerate. Malicious prejudice was one of them. Jack had caught wind of the bigoted nature of these people before that point, and seeing the old man react to the Pygmy in such a manner only served to confirm his suspicions. Sure, he was willing to give mostly everyone the benefit of the doubt, so to speak, but when he saw fear being the only thing restraining this old bastard from showing his true colours, something turned sour in the pit of Jack’s stomach. 

Nevertheless, he managed to keep his rage contained long enough to smile kindly at the cute little creature, before turning to the old prick to relay the message;  

“And a cut of meat for my friend here….” Jack paused, his eyes narrowed, the sound of his grinding teeth could be heard across the room. Had his stare been steel it would have cut the old man in two. “You better make damn sure it is the best piece of meat you have ever served in this shithole you call an establishment. Do I make myself clear?” 

By the time Jack had finished speaking, his voice had turned into a grated, raspy tone like that of a demon. The bartender failed twice to swallow hard, but finally managed to before scuttling off to retrieve food from the open kitchen - or be it just a bench with a fire stove, a kettle, and hotplate - situated along the wall beyond the bar. The man’s knees were literally knocking together as he shuffled and fumbled in haste to prepare the food on wooden plates, and while so doing, Jack took that moment to glance at his feathered friend with a wink. 

There was limited time for further reaction before the bartender returned with the meals. One dish of stewed meat and potatoes, as Jack had ordered, and another plate of what looked like finely roasted lamb ribs. That serving was bigger than Piper himself. 

“On the house -” Was all the bartender said before Jack interrupted with a final word of warning:

“If I even hear so much as a whisper that you’ve mistreated any of my friends, [i]ever again[/i], I will use my fist to send your nose into your sorry excuse for a brain. And yeah… thanks for the food.” 

The old man didn’t reply, just shaking in his boots as he backed away.

Jack took up both plates, one in hand, the second rested on his forearm, the mead in his other hand. 

“Pick a table for us?” His tone to Piper was kind and smooth, so very far detached from the one he just used on the bartender. 

[hr]

	“A gentle demonstration of my masters power.” 

The intruder didn't move, though their shrouded aura began to pulsate as they spoke. The voice that emitted from them would have seemed very strange, as it didn't derive from them directly, instead it spoke from around the room, each word born of a different location and varying tones of gender and age. While the words were being spoken the knife in Cheryl’s hand would have become hot, red hot, too hot to handle by time the first sentence was fully delivered. 

“I am an emissary with word from my master.” The many voices continued; “You will bring the outworlder. You will guide him to us. For this you will be well compensated with abundance of mana beyond your needs. It would be wise of you to accept my masters terms.”