Mirella smiled suggestively at Corwynn's admission about waiting when it suited. She knew that one was true, at least. As the barmaid left, the witch also took note of Brogan's odd behavior. Well, she'd known he was fearful of illness, but really. She was a professional, and professionals kept themselves cleaner than most regular people. You could eat off of Mirella's skin, and she had patron testimony to prove it.

At the mention of the ship, she looked at her favorite golly and pretty lips turned down in childlike sadness. "Mm, issat th'self same ship oi'm t'keep well clear of, I hear?" She had taken the order with a grain of salt, but understood.However, she'd made the proper inquiries and wanted to help nevertheless. "I'd like t'make it known tha I wish I could do th'crew m'self." She smiled lustily, but it wasn't for flesh she hungered, and the grin didn't match the chill of her eyes. She'd had her lay, now she wanted to earn her moniker.

"Big crew, I'm sure." Brogan replied to Mirella. "I don't have any minds against sharing the blood."

Brogan drained the glass and wiped his large hand across his mouth. "There's always enough to go around, I'm fine with our lady Mirella joining in."

"While I don't doubt Mirella would be thrilled to join you," Corwynn purred coyly, obvious implying more than just the job, as was his wont, "This sort of thing is not for you this time, love. There aren't any Drain folks who need to be getting a good look at your face, let alone the rest of you. Hawke would be displeased if my eagerness to deal with the problem put his personal property in too much danger."

The blond galdor's smile was tight but wry and he shifted his gaze back to Brogan, "You two can play together some other time—I promise." He winked, laughing, "I have a feeling this sort of work is really something Mister Rand can accomplish quite efficiently on his own. It's not too large of a ship, but there's enough of a crew to keep you busy. If you have to rough up the captain to get him to comply, that's not a problem ... I just need them alive upon delivery. I can't guarantee he'll stay that way once I'm through."

Corwynn grinned wolfishly, rolling his shoulders in a dismissive shrug.

"So when do we talk details then?" Brogan said, he yawned and dropped his feet on the table. "Who's this captain you're wanting and where do I bring him?

The meeting had certainly been an exciting one but the night was wearing on and Corwynn had humbled him too many times for his own liking. It was well past time to terrorize some poor civilian and feel strong again, in control again. He couldn't wait for that ship to pull into harbor. Especially if the golly lived up to his promise about the new shootas.

"Where do I pick up some of them pistols?" Brogan grinned having reminded himself about the treasure Corwynn had offered.

"Show up at my house sometime after noon on the second first and we'll talk guns and details, maybe over lunch if you come hungry. I've got an inkling you'll enjoy what I can put together for you by then." Corwynn shrugged, waving a hand thoughtfully, "I'm sure I can even rustle up something for you to shoot at to make sure my craftsmanship is all I claim it to be."

The way he let his tone roll over the word 'something' seemed devious, almost implying his idea of target practice tended to include nonstandard objects, possibly breathing ones. He grinned anyway, the age lines of his aristocratic features belying whether or not this was true, smug in the security of his time-honed talents, "I'm south of town, far down the beach. It's probably the biggest house off the road, so I doubt you'll have trouble finding it."

"Does that fit into your schedule, Mister Rand?"

Brogan nodded and grinned. "So long as Mr. Hawke doesn't task me I'll be there." He stated. This was the whole reason he came to Old Rose. His talent was already being recognized and rewarded. If Corwynn's guns were anything like his father's, Brogan was making good on a real treasure. And for no other reason but to do what he loved most in life. Killing.

Well, Corwynn had stolen the words from her mouth even as she wished he'd be stealing other things as well, since the evening was winding to be excruciatingly boring. Yes the new boy had been paralyzed, yes the golly girl had made her move but left Mirella the only accessible thing at the table. She knew Cor liked his challenges, so she'd leave Miss One-wick to him.

She also had a feeling no one was going to try at her tonight, which while mildly disappointing was not the night ruiner it could be. No, the fate of Brogan's ship was solace enough. Well, almost solace enough. With a cagey glance around the table, she flicked her hand through her hair again.

"Mmm, if'n I get a look at th'pretty pistols yer makin' fer Mr. Big boy here, I might haveta commission ye m'self, sir." She used both titles more like a pet names, zero respect but all playful encouragement. "An' as t'jobs, Brogan m'luv, I'd be willin t'werk summat out sometime, seein how yer ship seems t'be comin in~" She smiled suggestively, head tilted in an oddly youthful affectation.

Ignoring Corwynn's innuendo, Eliysse sat quietly at the table as the trio discussed their plans. She didn't have a say in anything yet, but it didn't mean she couldn't listen. Glancing around the tavern as her ears tuned into them, she wondered if this was a good idea.

Did she really want to be associated with these people. Puppets on strings? Maybe she should go back to Brunnhold...talk to her mother...recon-

Clocks, stuff that!

Brogan leaned toward Mirella, eyes locked on hers and a slight smile hung on the edge of his mouth. "Anytime you think you can handle a hard bite like myself say the word. I'm all for a little play time, hama."

Brogan gave a quick wink and then leaned back. He was still exchanging looks with Mirella when he suddenly jerked his thumb at Eliysse who he'd been painfully aware of since she'd snuck up behind him when Corwynn was showing off his magic tricks.

"Who exactly is this, Wynngate?" Brogan asked. "I've taken it on faith that she's not some sappy dobber, since you've been so forthcoming in her presence. But if I'm correct, I just discussed mass murder in front of a clocking stranger. I would just like some piece of mind so's I don't have to cott her in an alleyway tonight."

With that he looked back at Mirella, "I can think of other things I'd rather do tonight."

Corwynn was set to laughing at Brogan's suggestive comment, a deep, chesty, sardonic sort of laugh which almost drowned out the more direct question that followed. The blond galdor recovered slowly, right hand straying to brush some fallen curls back out of his face, "Oh, Mirie here can handle it all, Mister Rand. Don't worry your dark heart there."

His mischievous blue eyes drifted from the wick to the other galdor, thin lips curling into a wolfish grin despite how much he disliked the use of his last name when in the Harbor. He'd have to correct that later, "For the moment, Miss Eliysse is harmless enough. At least, I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt. She's familiar enough with the way business like ours is run, considering she was once a competitor. Hmm?"

The gunman's usual tone carried an edge of warning, "And if anything needs taking care of, I'm sure I could manage, though I appreciate the enthusiasm."

The challenge made the young witch grin. Eyes already following the tattooed trail over his entire form, she wet her lips delicately and her smile showed teeth. "Ha ha, brunno. I'll take th'bait any day." She grabbed his old drink, the one left so indecently alone, and began sipping it. Now that there was fun on the table, oh she was going to enjoy herself. Business was such a pleasure when with the Brothers, after all.

Eying the golly girl, the henchwitches eyes lost some of their heat. Corwynn had her dealt with, but the witch wasn't one for pretty strangers in her home, though competition was worth the fun. Dark eyes quickly skirting back to her newest playmate of the evening, she took another long, slow drink of the liquor, her frame shivering slightly as it burned it's way down. Placing the tankard down, she leaned forward on one hand and allowed a certain calculating quality to come into her countenance. More than play, she wanted to see how Brogan operated sometime. Business and pleasure, right? At this point in time, she'd let him move at his own will.

Brogan laughed, "Oh I have no doubt Cor, nothing more satisfying than a dangerous little adventure like my macha Mirella there."



"You understand my concern naturally, it needed to be said." Brogan waved his hand dismissively.



Brogan's face was split by a broad grin and he reached across the table, picked up the previously shunned drink that Mirella was nursing and took a long drink before handing it back to her. "Then perhaps we've overstayed our welcome here nanabo."

Brogan's drink of the disowned liquor was what tied it for Mirella. She knew his reputation as clean, and that was as clear as an invitation as she needed. "Aye, kov. I can think o' mant more... welcoming places fer a pair like us." Dark eyes smoldering, her hand fell across the table, and her fingers grazed Brogan's knuckles as she leaned forward to steal a drink, neckline drifting low as she sipped at the spicy brew, lips soft on the rim of the tankard, then delicately licking off the droplets from those selfsame lips as she pushed his hand back...

"Cor, if'n yer though wiv this 'um, I think I'll show him a Brother's welcome." She rolled her head back, tossing cinnamon hued hair, revealing dusky skin, smooth as cream but dark like caramel. She was looking forward to something different than her normal fare. And from the skin that showed, he looked like he would be different. All those scars to run her hands down, the tattoo just aching for each skull to be kissed and bit. Yes, she was going to have fun.

Slinking up from her chair, the henchwitch sauntered over to Brogan, hand coming to caress his jaw. Had this not been Corwynn's table, she would have sinuously climbed into the wick's lap. As it was... she'd let Corwynn to his meeting. She had her own to deal with, hopefully with far less talking. "Let's dust, brunno." She was already hungry for more than the Black Dove could offer them.

"Sweet Alioe, don't let me clocking keep either of you longer than necessary." Laughed the blond gunman slyly, both hands in the air dismissively, expression sly and knowing, "I know enough about the patience of one of you to know waiting around just isn't an option."

Corwynn's blue eyes all but disappeared into the age lines at their corners at the broadening of his grin, "Brotherly welcome, indeed. Get out, already. Leave the gollies to small talk and get on with your ... personal business."

Eliysse laughed gently, as though the threat of death was highly amusing, glancing first at Brogan, then at Corwynn, interested in his response.



The red and gold haired golly inclined her head in a mini bow.

"You flatter me, Corwynn. Special enough to be dealt with the legendary gunman himself. My, I am touched." The woman didn't miss the glance from Mirella, and offered her a polite smile. All the cloak and dagger furtive glances were just so...scummy. She continued to smile as they spoke, watching the couple as they prepared to leave.



Turning to look at Corwynn, the galdor straighted her skirts with an air of delicacy.

"And what, pray tell, would you like to discuss my dear?" She asked in a formal tone, smile dancing on her lips.

"Well, the best way to deal with one golly tends to be with another golly." The blond galdor grinned wolfishly, not quite threatening but obvious with a bit of weight.

Returning to his drink and resettling in his chair, Corwynn sighed and added from over the rim of his mug, "Unless you can think of something more interesting, I thought we could talk about the terms of your employment. I might have something to keep you busy now that you find yourself without anything ... or anyone to do."

Eliysse smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow and looking at him with her two tone eyes, giving him what could only be described as the look teachers gave to endearing but troublesome students.

"Corwynn, I have never been, and will never be, one of your bedroom conquests. That, I am afraid, is one challenge you will never win. I will say though, you do flatter me for trying." Lacing her fingers lightly and resting her hands on one crossed knee, she tilted her head slightly.

"My employment, now that is something I am more than willing to partake in. What did you have in mind?"

"Galdori are never conquests in my book." Purred the gunman, unintimidated by Eliysse's continued deflections. He wasn't overly concerned about rejection so much as entertaining himself at someone else's expense, "Well, I'm going to be starting this little project and I find myself in need of a go-to person ..."

Corwynn paused, shrugging nonchalantly, adding slyly, "Someone not associated with the Brothers directly is preferred."

The older galdor arched a blond eyebrow as if to see if the woman was interested in him continuing, "Catching my drift?"

Eliysse's smile turned a little more wicked than usual, and her field twitched suddenly. This was what she needed. An inside job, a mission. Something to flex her skills. It had been ages since she'd let off a good spell, and there had been a lot she'd been adapting.

"What do you have in mind, my fellow gunman?" The galdor purred suddenly, off color eyes full of interest.

"I need an unofficial point of contact." Corwynn replied matter-of-factly, shifting a little in his seat, no less flirtatious so much as willing to focus on business when he was obviously given little choice otherwise, "For another unofficial contact."

The blond grinned, enjoying the purposeful ambiguity, "It's not something I can entirely explain somewhere as public as this, and while you're welcome to theorize that any hope of mine for a more private meeting may be a ploy for your attentions, I assure you I'm completely capable of talking business without pleasure. Disappointing as that may be for both of us."

Smirking at this, he shrugged almost dismissively, "I've got a few plans in the works, and an informant of mine will need to keep their cover for things to move smoothly. If this interests you, we can discuss it further."

Taking a moment to think on the matter, Eliysse reached up, tapping the side of her jaw with a thoughtful gloved finger. Finally, she nodded.

"Alright, Corwynn, I'm interested. Shall we away from this disreputable place of business to somewhere a little more private? For business sake?" Pushing away from the table, she tilted her head questioningly, eyes straying to his gun again.

"There are things I would like to discuss with you in private also."

"Don't tease me."

The blond galdor laughed, wagging his only remaining index finger in the younger woman's direction. He stood from his seat and deposited a pleasantly generous number of coins on the table, mocking a stern tone even though his weathered features were creased into a mischievous grin, "It's playing dirty—I'm at least capable of being transparent when the situation requires."

Corwynn let his laughter fade, sly but amused. He straightened his coat and kicked in his chair, not unaware of Eliysse staring at his firearm. Of course, he didn't mind, smug enough as he was about his craftsmanship. With a wry expression, the older man offered is left arm in a show of roguish politeness,

"I suppose I should leave it to you to suggest somewhere else." His sardonic tone was unavoidable, right hand coming to rest comfortably on his weapon, "I wouldn't want to appear improper in any further offers."

Rolling her eyes slightly, the galdor took his arm, back held straight and chin up. At least, some where under his rough exterior, Corwynn had some decent upbringing.

"Quite a good idea, my good man. Allow me to suggest, somewhere quite void of any disturbances of late. A little spot down by the docks, looks for all the world to be abandonded and about to fall to the ground. But I assure you, its quite stable, and inside its quite adiquete for chatter. Used to be the stronghold of the Chroven, but not any longer." Taking the lead, she took them outside, and began the short walk to her once home. Now it was so cold, and so empty, Eliysse had thought of burning it. Perhaps it would serve some use anyway.

Walking quietly, she followed the familiar path down the sandy road, turning to the left with a nod. Before long, they were presented with a dark and depressing looking shanty, broken beer bottles littering the porch.

"Welcome to our Den." She said in a sarcastic tone. Letting go of his arm, the red and blonde haired woman opened the door, speaking a soft incation for lumination, lighting up the inside so Corwynn could see it was empty, save for the red and green velvet decor inside.

"Come in, I promise its empty."

Corwynn allowed himself to be led, not particularly concerned about ending up in any real danger. He did pay attention to where they were headed, however, aware of the area and at least a little knowledgeable about where the Chroven operated from.

Still, the gunman hovered the doorway, making it obvious that he was looking around with almost a mock expression of caution, "Mmm. Empty. Probably for the better, really." He taunted, stepping inside, allowing the door to close behind them.

"I don't suppose you entertain too many guests here anymore, so I'll take your word that it's safe for now."

Eliysse ignored his quip, leaving him in the doorway and taking herself and her lumination to a central round table, removing her gloves as she went. Placing them on the table, she mumbled the incantation for Ignite, touching her suddenly flaming finger to the small lamp in the center. Walking around the room, she lit the various other lamps or candles in the shanty, before releasing both spells. It was a small room, dusty and dark, barely lit by the various flames. There was a round table in the center, framed by two thickly padded dark green chairs. Scattered about the rest of the room were chairs, lounges and even a games board with an unfinished and very dusty game of chess. Two doors led out of the room, not including the entrance, and both were shut. Moving to pull the curtains on the windows at the front, Eliysse gestured to the green chair on the right.

"Please, sit. I am afraid I'm all out of anything decent to drink. I do believe there is a barrel of whiskey in the armoury, but its rather shabby."