Corwynn wasn't entirely a morning person, but sometimes he could make the effort when he felt the situation called for it. He'd never felt capable of dressing as nice while he was still slightly sleepy, but it wasn't like the galdor owned anything particularly cheap or tasteless to begin with. While he felt as though he had a few reasons to actually visit Amani's new residence, by the time he arrived, he wasn't entirely sure which one was the real reason he'd decided to come in the first place.

Hair fluffy and bright in the before noon sun, complimented by the pale sheen of his almost silvery gray vest; crisp white shirt; and fluffy cravat; the blond galdor had even remembered to bring a simple house-warming gift, wrapped tastefully as it was under his arm.

He'd even walked, enjoying the crisp morning air despite the thin layer of road dust the road had graced his polished, expensive shoes with. There was also now a random and slightly distasteful bit of dirt clinging to the hem of his dark, well-pressed trousers. It was a shame, really, but at least the pistol ever-present on his hip was still glaringly shining in the sun.

Corwynn had chosen to forgo a jacket, however.

With a last-minute ruffle to his sun-touched curls, the older galdor nonchalantly knocked on a now-familiar door. And waited.

Corwynn could hear a loud thumping coming from the inside and then the sound of dragging. After a few lonely seconds, footsteps, and the door opened. "Yes?" Came the distracted question. As Amani turned her face changed from preoccupied to stony. "Oh it's you.." She said, and went back into the house, leaving the door open for him to follow. It looked like Amani was doing some very peculiar redecorating.

She was fully outfitted today, two curved swords on her hips (no gun), two visible daggers, shin guards, leg guards (though you couldn't see those under her pants), and a loose shirt that would lend her easy movement and would conceal other things should she choose to do so.

"It's good--" She began thoughtlessly in mugrobi and then stopped herself, "It is good you have come, Corwynn." She had switched to estuan. There were more hints than usual of the musical language in her speech now. It almost sounded as if she was slurring a little, although Amani was as far from drunk as she possibly could have been. Her senses were in full alert and it was quite obvious. "I was going to go find you myself once I was done here, but it seems you have saved me the trouble."

She was taking pins out of a bag now and beginning to pin her hair up. Most of it was already clamped back onto her head, but a few strands always seemed to escape her. As she pinned she talked, "I'm leaving. By this evening, I believe. It depends on transportation..." She waved her hand as if to say 'You know what I mean.'

Corwynn blinked uncomfortably from the doorway, studying the Mugrobi woman who flitted away rather quickly, dressed for battle as she seemed to be. He certainly hadn't given her any work to do. He followed her inside, listening to her distracted greeting.

Then, he was very sure she said she was leaving.

The blond gunman frowned, not disapprovingly so much as curiously, "Leaving? Look, if you're upset about the other night, you need to understand ... I'm a busy man. Besides, I'm beginning to realize you make me impatient and—" He paused, realizing that not only was he making excuses, but that whatever was going on had nothing to do with him.

His expression hardened, blue eyes setting like stone in his well-aged features, "Who else are you working for?" His tone of voice implied that what he wanted to say was 'You can't just leave without permission,' but he wasn't going to say that just yet.

"The other-- what? Oh. Her." She didn't answer his second question right away, dwelling on the first instead. She wasn't even going to pretend she hadn't been jealous. "Yes well you can do whatever you like in your free time. Who am I to stop you? Obviously not anyone important." Her tone had taken on a metallic age and she shot him a glare through the side of her eye. Yeah Amani was pissed. You didn't sit there and flirt with another fighter while she was there. God damnit.

A few more pins went in her hair-- if Corwynn had observed carefully he might have noticed there was a peculiar sharpness to these pins, and some had odd shapes and curvatures at the end. She wanted to make him mad. To upset him. But the expression on his face changed her mind. Business was business...whatever else they were doing was not part of that.

"I am not working for anyone but you, Cor." She finally answered with a reluctant sigh. "I have to go to Vienda on private business. It involves an old associate of mine..." Her eyes burned angrily for a moment as she thought of the numbers she had been shown. Alstair should know better. How could he think no one would find out?

Admittedly, it had been awhile since the riot. And Dren had taken his sweet time to get here. But he had gotten here and that was that.

As she remembered in whose company she was in, she tried to soften her expression. "Like I said, I was going to tell you. I will be back." She walked into her room and came back out, this time carrying a pack with two more swords tied to it and a suitcase. "But it cannot wait. This business is...of a very urgent matter."

Her hands were checking the pack again, the sheaths for her swords and that she was carrying cleaning materials. Her gun was in the pack as well. Amani's field was almost buzzing with adrenalin. This happened every time she was about to embark on an adventure...of the dangerous sort.

"I hope this is okay for you." She was actively avoiding his eyes now as pulled out a small pouch of money and sifted through it idly.

The blond exhaled through his teeth at Amani's self-depreciating comment about her importance. It was one of those comments he knew he could expect from some women that never really could have a right answer—he'd come to learn he was damned either way he chose to speak up. If he responded she was important, then why did the other woman end up in his bed first? If he responded she wasn't important, then that would open a canister of gunpowder he really didn't feel like igniting at the moment.

If Amani had asked a more direct question, such as whether or not he was more than remotely interested in her personally, he could've come up with a real answer. But she didn't, choosing instead to reveal her own interest with an emotional response. It was enticing; her internal anger reminding the gunman of just why he enjoyed the chase so much to begin with.

Corwynn had really since given up entirely explaining himself, anyway. Things just happened, and he was usually more than willing to go along with them ... dealing with the consequences as they were presented. He'd tempered some of his behavior over time, especially after all that transpired to lose him a finger and five years at sea in the first place; but he hadn't necessarily turned an entirely new leaf.

Instead, he set his tastefully wrapped package—a box of freshly imported liquor-filled chocolates from Hesse—on the closest table and hooked his thumbs in the belt that held his holster. Corwynn considered the Mugrobi woman's words in silence for a few moments, blue eyes lingering on the smooth line of her neck now that her hair was out of the way, noting she wasn't exactly looking at him.

"Business, hmm?" The older galdor finally grunted, curious but professionally restrained. He could do his own homework later without affronting Amani with questions she probably wouldn't answer anyway. It wasn't like he didn't have informants of his own.

He stepped much closer and stood in the swimming tension of her field, tilting his head to watch her pack through a few stray sun-touched curls. The gunman had been in Hawke's service for over fifteen years; he knew all about personal business, "I won't ask for details unless you're willing to share, but do you have arrangements for once you're there? Somewhere inconspicuous?"

His tone implied he was offering something, but his expression remained unchanged.

As he approached her, her hands may have moved a little quicker through the bag. "I can assure you that I will be able to find my own rooming arrangements once I get there." She said stiffly. Apparently having found what she was looking for, she drew the strings to her purse and put it back into her lighter pack.

Now she turned and faced Corwynn, her face as expressionless as his. "If I do not return, assume that I have been...eliminated." Her face twisted. It sounded ugly. She didn't try to assure him that this wouldn't happen. She was going up against another dragoon. This wasn't some small feud in Old Rose. This was quite a bit more serious than that.

"Hopefully, I will be back before long, and you wont have to worry about whether I am still in your employment or not." Another hint of bitterness escaped her as she implied that was the only thing he would worry about. She paused momentarily, before putting her hand on his shoulder lightly. "This is perhaps a business that you should not get involved in."

Don't follow me. Don't look for me if I don't come back. Her face was still impassive and her tone was heavy.

He pretended with great difficulty to not be offended; expression softening a little at her hand on his shoulder. Corwynn still scowled, weathered lines in his forehead becoming more obvious as his face tightened. He wasn't just another thug, but somehow Amani's tone and distance certainly made him feel that way. Perhaps it was just her pointed way of trying to make him feel guilty—not that it was working in quite the direction she probably intended.

The gunman arched a blond eyebrow and met the Mugrobi woman's gaze, stepping closer but still keeping his hands to himself, "One of 'those' types of personal business trips, I see." His voice had a slight grating edge, revealing his ruffled ego or perhaps a hint of actual concern for her well being, "I'm not so interested in being involved in your past, you know."

He let his words hang for a moment, wondering if that was enough of a hint for her. He was definitely making a ploy for the present.

Corwynn glanced at Amani's hand, blue eyes warming with his tone of voice, "Look, I have a whole estate outside of Vienda. It's out of the way." The older galdor looked back up at the swordswoman, "Quite defendable, actually. Who knows what I've still got stashed there, anyway."

A smile slowly crept into his features, "But, it's up to you. I wouldn't want to be responsible for your loss simply because you were forced to hole up in some dive of an inn. One of us apparently has to look out for your well being. It doesn't sound like you're too interested in exactly what kind of asset you are to our organization."

As he admitted that he wasn't interested in her past, her field felt a little less tense. Amani felt an acute sense of relief. There was no use looking back. And she really didn't want Cor, or anyone else, judging her on what she had done when she was young. She was a different person now...She hoped. And it wasn't just that. The reason she kept her past so firmly locked away from her was because it was dangerous. She was, perhaps, one of the most wanted people in Mugroba. She knew Corwynn could take care of himself-- knew that if she mentioned she was attempting to protect him he would most likely be offended, but that didn't stop her.

No one from her present life was going to get involved. This was her issue. She was so intent on her own problems that his implication went over her head. Amani considered his offer carefully. It was possible Dren had a place...but an extra place to hide would be a good idea, much as she was loathe to accept his help.

"I am capable of looking after myself perfectly, Corwynn. I was doing fine before you came along, and I shall continue to do so." The first hint of a smile crept to her lips but it was extinguished quickly. Sometime while she was speaking she realized that her hand was still resting on his shoulder. She removed it hastily and folded her arms.

"But yes, if you think that this place of yours would be an advantage to this business, then I shall gladly accept." She refrained from asking if she would owe him anything, knowing in a detached way that this would insult his pride. Her hands went to her temples, more out of habit than because she had a headache as she thought.

She was surprised to find that the thought that seemed the most prominent in her mind wasn't swords or armor or tactics, but the fact that she would really quite miss Corwynn. He was fun to fight next to.

Ugh. Maybe this trip is a better idea than I thought.

"Well, I am sure you will have plenty to occupy you here while I am gone." Her tone didn't imply that she was talking about fighting. Rosalie's image floated on the corners of her mind. The swordswoman she had quite liked. And obviously one that Corwynn had quite liked as well.

Stop that.

Amani moved to get past Corwynn, who was now standing directly in front of her, to go occupy herself with...setting up some more. She was finished, but...well...she had to do something besides just stand there.

The blond gunman didn't move out of Amani's way, choosing instead to stand there, purposefully, "I'm rather aware that you can take care of yourself, Amani. I'm also certain that you don't need anything resembling protection from someone like me," He smiled, hands still at his belt, somehow closer than he was before, "Well, I suppose that depends on your perspective."

He never did consider himself very safe.

"And yes, I'm sure I can find plenty to occupy myself with while you're away." Corwynn smirked, almost purring, "What you fail to consider is whether I'm passing the time because I lack something better or because I'm simply that easily entertained."

The older galdor shrugged, looking at Amani pointedly, as if implying his motivations were the former more than the latter.

"I'll get you an address and keys." He changed the subject, but only slightly, "But you'll have to bring the keys back to me because by now, I don't think I could ever find my spares. Understand?"

Amani stopped to prevent herself from bumping into him. He was very close. She stood impossibly still as he stood next to her and spoke. Her face closed and impassive, although perhaps a little tense. At his mention of lacking something better her lips may have twitched for just a moment. Then he was talking about keys and the moment was gone.

"Yes. It is understood." There was a slight hesitancy as she said this. A smidgen of doubt that coated her words. She was going to be fighting against a madman, with another madman by her side. Both would be as like to help her as they were to harm her. She wasn't afraid, but saddened. And if this was how it ended? Their last meeting with the promise of keys to be returned?

Amani was a passionate woman who didn't love easily. Although she tended to remain on friendly tones with almost everyone she met (unless she was ordered to kill them, in which case such relations were usually terminated), her true regard was hardly ever given freely. Corwynn was one of the few who held this. His humor and the slight air of danger that hung about him enticed her to like him. His nine fingers made him more appealing and human than he could have been with ten. She had deep respect and perhaps deeper affection for this man who was her employer, and now she was leaving and all they were talking about was keys.

Enough of this foolishness.

She had been standing very close to him as she tried to get by, and she used this to her advantage as she simply shifted a few inches and met his eyes with her own deep purple blue ones. This lasted only moments, though, because then her mouth was on his and her hand was on his cleanly shaven cheek.

He smelled good.

"Hello Amani, ready to go?" Dren asked, leaning against her wall and watching the pair with interest.

He had snuck in very, very quietly. It was a necessary job skill in his profession. His hair was pulled back by length of ribbon today, a sage green that complemented his eyes. He was dressed more like a galdor today, much to his personal distaste, in a suit with a vest and a watch in his pocket. His smile was like a cat watching a sausage dog and planning when to strike across its eyes.

He had been there for quite some time, listening. It was what he did. He liked to bait Amani, he thought it kept her sharp.

((I know, I know, feel free to shoot his ass.))

Corwynn had been playing games for a long, long time. Most of the time, he was able to play the odds well enough, to have an idea of where things were going, to consider himself very much in charge of the situations he found himself in. There had been a few times in his career that he'd found himself caught off-guard, expecting something else, or at least not quite aware of just where he was going to end up from one play to the next.

This was one of those times.

Sure, he'd been shot, stabbed, and spurned; but it was unfortunately an uncommon occurrence to have a well-armed, attractive Mugrobi woman kissing him.

Not that he minded; it was sort of a target he had been aiming for all along. He was very much in approval of the direction things had turned. Like a shift in the wind. The gunman just figured he'd have to wait longer, but Corwynn was always okay with now. He chuckled and returned Amani's kiss, hands moving from his belt to the woman's waist, avoiding her weapons carefully. He lingered contentedly, only slightly disappointed that she'd pinned back her hair now that he was so close to it.

"I brought chocolates," he mumbled coyly, not pulling away, "But this is decidedly a better housewarming or goodbye gift in my opinion ... I prefer housewarming, mind you."

Corwynn grinned, blue eyes mischievous. His hands wandered a little while his lips returned to hers for a few more moments before he added quietly, "It seems as though I should've gotten here sooner. We're just going to be left hanging, aren't we?"


One of the blond's wandering hands had been moving in an entirely different direction than the other. He'd barely finished his own words, face still very close to the swordswoman's, left hand still on her backside, when the other man in the room finally bothered to speak. His field had given him away a while ago, but the other galdor never did mind an audience.

Corwynn did not need to turn around to level his pistol at the man's face, drawn as it was in a blur, hammer already cocked, field gathering from fuzzy and distracted to focused and ready.

"Your business associate?" He smirked, still looking at Amani, very, very tempted to fire anyway.

"I think my house is warm enough..." Amani said in a light, dreamy voice. She had slipped into mugrobi without realizing it. How many years had it been? Surely not since Suuk. But it had been since her old lover. She'd hadn't let that man go for a long time, and even when she had, she'd never found anyone who had amused her and entertained her as much as he had. He'd met his match in this rogue. Rogue being the key word, really.



"Maybe you are. I am perfectly satisfied." She said in Estuan, grinning at him impishly. She felt very...girlish, and giggly. She was intensely aware of the hand at her back that was pulling her to him and her lips were buzzing from the little use they'd just gotten.



Amani, unlike Corwynn, was not used to concentrating on other people or really anything at all, when she was being kissed. And it had been quite a long time, so she felt she was justified in her surprise when she was disturbed. Still, as soon as she heard the voice her hand reached for her gun-- it wasn't there. Swearing internally, she pulled out the knives hidden in her armguards and didn't see who it was until she had turned around.

She was just as tempted as Corwynn to let Dren become just another body. Instead she sheathed her knives and placed a restraining hand on Cor's arm. Her hand was practically shaking, and that wasn't the only thing that gave away her fury. Her field was incredibly acute-- almost a physical attack on the senses. There was blood pounding in her ears, her face was hot, and she barely registered that she was already taking quick, menacing strides towards Dren. Her arm, which seemed to have pulled back of its own accord shot forward in the hopes of striking the other man in the face. Hard.

Dren's field was cold and still, especially in comparison to what was emanating from Corwynn and Amani. Amani's fist made a sound like the crack of pistol shot, when it struck his face. His head snapped to the side but he remained upright. His smile did not change in the least.

"Amani dear, I do hope that helped you get some of your pent up agression out of your system." He said cooly, massaging his jaw with one hand. "Are you going to let this man shoot me, truly? For shame."

Dren muttered something in monite, fingers tracing a complex pattern upon his skin. The fledgling bruise that Amani had managed to give him healed. He spoke monite in a strangish sort of way, like he was whispering something both sacred and profane. He liked the convenience of magic, respected the mona with all of his being. He just didn't understand why such a force would bother with a race that largely squandered its abilities.

Dren winced slightly. Healing always hurt him a little.

"We need to leave, I have a carriage waiting and I am sure our mutual associate is out doing something I'd prefer him not to." Dren said, now allowing himself to sound annoyed. He gave Corwynn a look he usually reserved for bad fashion sense.

"I should let him shoot you," Amani growled through clenched teeth, just about ready to jump on him when he healed himself. When he explained about the carriage she let out the angry breath she was holding and unclenched her fists with difficulty.

"And of course, you couldn't just wait outside like anyone else would have." She closed her eyes momentarily to calm herself and took a breath. "You son of a bitch, if you think that was the last of my aggression you are sorely mistaken." Amani hissed at him. "Watch yourself, Dren."

She strode back to her pack and put it on, making sure the straps were adjusted, and the swords that were on the back were within her reach. She picked up the larger suitcase and shoved it at her associate. "Take this to the carriage. I will meet you there shortly." Amani's tone was still dangerous and she looked like she was ready to start another fight. The weapons she was carrying only made her more intimidating.

Corwynn's expression soured at the other man's words, and while he'd lowered his weapon slightly at Amani's touch, he'd not completely lost his aim in the motion. The blond watched the interchange between the two, realizing that there was a history between them that must've stretched rather far. It was also something that appeared to be bitter and unpleasant. Whoever they were looking for was obviously someone else the two also shared a past with; it almost sounded like they were looking for a stray.

Studying Dren carefully, he felt very loath to let anyone go anywhere with the man, even if he was confident that someone like Amani could handle herself in the other galdor's slimy presence. Corwynn was a scoundrel in his own right; he knew one when he saw one, regardless of whether or not they chose to dress the part.

"I don't need permission to shoot you." He seethed, thumb finding the hammer but reluctant to release it back to a less dangerous position, "I've never been one to bother with rules."


The gunman looked to Amani, objection very clear on his face. Corwynn was not a particularly possessive man, given his preferred hobbies, but he'd learned to be protective of those under his care, Bad Brother family by choice and not just employment. He'd lost plenty of friends.

The blond galdor made a chiding noise through his teeth, returning his weapon to his side, right hand lingering just in case, and reached into his vest with his left hand. He removed a ring of keys; half of them belonging to locks he no longer kept track of.

He raised the keys and stepped close to Amani again, allowing their fields to mingle as he intoned the Monite for Quiet. The bubble of magical privacy between them was warm, but frayed a little on the edges with a hint of something more distracted. He still spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, as if he hadn't spoken his real name in a long time, "Wynngate is my surname. My family's estate is on the Arova side of Vienda, upstream from the Soot District and outside the city walls."

Exhaling, he leaned back and let the spell dissolve, hairs on the back of their necks tingling as if from a breath on their faces and the faint scent of fresh linen hanging in the space that had once been protected from eavesdropping.

"That is not allowed in my house." Corwynn referred to Dren like he was so much bilge over the prow of a galley. He shifted his gaze to the other man, blue eyes hard, tone not so threatening as full of the authority he actually held in his position, "Nor is he allowed back in the Harbor. Indefinitely."

"I always do." Dren replied, perhaps a tad sardonically.

He was always watching, it usually didn't stop him from acting.





"I hardly feel that's realistic. I have family in Old Rose, I visit regularly." Dren did indeed visit a great many places on a regular basis. He had to check in with his kids.

Dren turned and poked his head out the door, then quickly muttered something in mugrobi. A young man appeared, dark-skinned and clearly a wick from his field. He had green eyes and pitch black hair. The family resemblence was immediately obvious.

"What it is, da?" The man asked in estuan, bowing politely to Corwynn and Amani, it was a habit he had learned when in the presence of galdori.

Dren's field had shifted, as had his body language. He was pretending to be amiable now and relaxed. He smiled warmly at his son, one of many.

"Would you mind taking this suitcase out to the carriage for the lady?" He asked, now speaking mugrobi, aware that he was at least partly excluding Corwynn and not caring. His son would assume Corwynn could speak mugrobi as well, since he had been raised to speak it only amongst others that could also. "This is Keiren, my son."

"Sure, da." Keiren said, again bowing to Amani and Corwynn. "Ma'ralio."

He took Amani's suitcase, smiling at her and disappeared. Dren watched his exit with great paternal warmth. It turned off as soon as Keiren was gone. Dren's field became icy again.

"He's a good boy." He said in estuan.

Corwynn watched wordlessly, his expression professionally blank—a poker face without the game, barely contained—but his right hand may have tightened its grip on his pistol. The gunman did not appreciate interlopers who tried to exercise authority that wasn't there within the bounds of his personal jurisdiction. This was Hawke's city, which in turn made it his. Whoever this other golly was really needed to watch what lines he was trying to piss over.

He studied the face of the young man carefully, fully aware of the implications Dren was making by their relationship. The blond galdor carefully weighed his options against the other man's possible motivations. A subtle, carefully constructed threat hung in the air between them, contingent on not only the revelation of the boy but on how Corwynn decided to act on the apparent offer.

Was showing the King's golly your family members' faces really a good idea? It had never, ever been in the past.

The blond galdor's face tightened into a sneer even as his field gathered about him with an entirely unveiled menace that he usually reserved for more official occasions, "I suggest you work on your writing skills and possibly consider what it will cost you to educate or at least transport your illegitimate spawn. Your visitation rights are clocking revoked. Once you leave on your business, there's no coming back unless it's over my dead body."

Corwynn knew such a thing could be arranged, but he also knew it wouldn't go without repercussions for Dren and whoever he considered his kin. He'd long-since accepted the daily possibility of death.

A haughty air reserved for one of his heritage finally settled across his weathered features, "And I don't negotiate."

Amani took the keys gratefully, nodding at his instructions. When he told her Dren wasn't allowed in his house she nodded. It was a sensible instruction. Only after Corwynn mentioned that Dren wasn't allowed in the Harbour again did she pause.

"Corwynn. Do not do this." she said said through her teeth, folding her arms. She knew Dren wouldn't take well to that order. He never took well to any orders.

Dren's display reinforced the point she had already made in her mind. She gave the boy a curt nod, keeping her eyes on her old associate's now cheerful face warily. She didn't bother giving Keiren her name-- there would be time for that later. When Corwynn spoke again, once more banning Dren from Old Rose, she let out a frustrated breath of air through her nostrils.

"If you will excuse us," She said to the blue dragoon curtly, grabbing Cor's arm and pulling him into the adjoining room. The door shut behind them.

As soon as she knew they were alone Amani made a short clicking noise with her tongue. "You are overreacting. Why are you doing this?" She kept her eyes locked on his, searching for an answer. "Surely not for me, because this does not help me at all."

So much for keeping him safe, right? The fighter felt internally frustrated. She couldn't tell Corwynn what he was up against without revealing what she felt was too much-- but he probably wouldn't listen to her without any further information.

I'll be fine. All I have to do is convince Corwynn that banning Dren from Old Rose puts me in danger...which is...probably true...

Who was she kidding? All she could hope was that Corwynn would listen to reason.

((Not Vienda, but ORH.))

Corwynn bristled as he was led away, not bothering to open his mouth to object. He scowled as Amani shut the door behind them, but managed to look at her as she spoke. The blond's less whole hand strayed to his curls absently as he formulated a response.

"I'm not overreacting." He grunted authoritatively, "And if I was doing anything for you, I'd have ruined your carpet already with that bastard's blood. I wouldn't have missed, unless his casting is as quick as his apparent wit."

The gunman might have sniffed haughtily at this, confident, insulted, "Whatever the hell you're involved with is obviously dangerous. I've given my whole life to make sure the only real danger here is Hawke. I don't know if you've gone and invited something I'll have to deal with—"

He sighed, left hand falling from his hair to the bridge of his nose.

"There's enough scum in this place, Amani. I want it all to be scum I know." Corwynn meant that part, but his tone implied he meant a little more. There was a hint of protectiveness in his intentions, not simply for Amani. He wasn't keen on politically-minded gollies in the Harbor unless they were there for Hawke's reasons. He wasn't keen on someone perhaps more perverted than himself filling his streets with half-breeds who'd grow up to need work. And he certainly wasn't keen on the crazy man leading the Mugrobi woman he'd rather enjoyed kissing off on something potentially as futile as it was fatal.

"Are you really trying to change my mind?"

"Yes." Amani answered with hesitation. "Think for a moment, Cor. Dren has been coming here for longer than you have known-- this is certainly not his first time here. He has not done anything yet, and unless he is challenged he will continue to live this way."

She paused. "The only reason I am going to Vienda in the first place is because there is someone who is causing...certain disturbances. Do you understand? He is not the type of person who will start a fight. Unless he believes something of his is being threatened."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his, "I know him. If he becomes a problem, I will deal with him myself. I promise."

If we're not both dead by the time this is over, that is.

Corwynn sneered a little at the implication that he was unaware of who'd been in and out of the Harbor over the past fifteen years or so, but chose not to comment. There might have been a solid five of them he couldn't account for; the five he'd been at sea. It wasn't his job to keep tabs on everyone; there were plenty of others who did. Even if the network of more casual information did not include Dren in its flow, he was quite sure that the Henchwitches knew everything ... at least, that was his constant assumption. If they didn't know, it was never worth knowing anyway.

The blond gunman might not have been entirely dissimilar from the other man, considering he, too, wasn't usually the first to start a fight without feeling like something of his was at stake. Apparently, that commonality was rather a rather dangerous personality streak to share.

He made no effort to hide his contemptuous mix of concern and disdain. Corwynn would be busy in their absence, busy with a bit of heavy reading, apparently,

"I'm not going back on my word." The older galdor responded firmly, closing the distance between them with a step or two, "But he's welcome to continue to come and go as he pleases at his own risk, especially if it's ever on my watch."

He added with a bit of hesitance, voice quieter, "You have your own business; I have mine. Now that you're an employee, his arrival on your doorstep makes him Brothers' business. End of story."

Corwynn waved his hand in a frustrated, dismissive manner, but chose not to finish whatever he might've still had to say.

Amani let her eyes brush over his face. She could tell he was decided, but she didn't want to believe it. 'End of Story' was not currently in her vocabulary.

"I was not aware my somewhat dangerous associates coming to visit me for private business would mean that I was implicating Hawk himself. If I had known I would have saved you all the trouble and gone to look for work elsewhere." She whispered furiously. "Because most of the people I know are dangerous."

It was like she was starting to see the invisible chains the brothers now had on her. "My business is my own, like you have said. I had hoped to keep it that way. After all, I would not want the bad brothers to become tangled in these affairs. They are complicated." Her field was an uncomfortable presence in the room. It seemed almost solidly cold, and there was a hint of a metallic tang in the air.

She seemed to relent for a moment. "Please. Corwynn, I am asking you as a friend. Only one more time. Don't do this. It will be more trouble than it is worth." She glanced into his face, her own looked tired and a little worried. This time, whatever he decided, she would accept. He was her employer, and she would do what he said in the end. Amani had just hoped she could prevent what now seemed to be the inevitable.

The older galdor muttered some things that were probably better suited to the mess of a galley, if not combat at sea, far from the delicate ears of normal people. He seethed, voice tempered only through practiced restraint, "You're working under the assumption that what I do, what I'm a part of, is child's play compared to whatever you're involved in. I am dangerous," his eyes slid to the door and back to Amani's face, "We are dangerous."

Corwynn's field bordered on the oppressive in their closeness, Physical mona weighing down the air like so much lead. He was forced to point to the floor between them with the middle finger of his left hand to emphasize his words because his right was so firmly gripping the butt of his pistol in his frustration, "You came here looking for work. You brought your past with you ... here."

"Everyone does."

His eyes narrowed but his face lost some of its threat, "Maguala! Keeping secrets like whatever this is will get you killed."

The gunman breathed, unevenly, and looked away. Whatever was going on was not something he wanted to deal with, not really. He had enough with the Drain, but there were more difficult things on the horizon. Something in his crime-hardened gut told him that Amani's path crossed others she was not aware of.

Without another word, Corwynn turned on the heel of his expensive boot and stalked out the door, the heaviness of his field reluctantly following behind him. He paused only briefly as he brushed roughly past Dren, hand still on his weapon,

"This is not a safe harbor. I know your face now. Don't think because you're on the other side of the street from the kind of business that goes on here that you're above reproach. We both know how deep each others' roots are, after all." The blond galdor was, indeed, openly threatening the dragoon. Whatever business he was bringing, it was nothing Corwynn wanted a part of—he just didn't want to be stuck cleaning up the repercussions.

"I hope your business goes according to plan." He said with as much mustered politeness as possible. The King's golly meant it. He honestly wanted to see more of Amani as soon as possible, preferably alive, regardless of how clocking pissed he was.

Then, the gunman was gone. Out the door and onto the streets, cursing his way home.

It hasn't gotten me killed yet.

She leaned into the doorway and watched him go, her arms crossed and her expression resigned although still somewhat upset. Let him think what he likes. The only thing she was doing by keeping secrets was keeping the people around her safe. And she could take care of herself, so that was of no concern, really.

There was a brief silence during which Amani took out her smallest dagger and began to clean her nails with a bored expression. Dren might have seen it before-- it usually came along when she didn't want to be asked questions, and when she would be unwilling to answer anything.

"Are you ready?" She asked with the air of one who had been waiting for a very slow companion for a very long time.