Beneath the Streets - RPLOG
From Rusted Promises
In such a casual setting, Reinhart wasn't done up in his full battle garb. All the same, it was impossible to mistake the lion, with the way her carried himself. Dressed in a fairly relaxed formal wear, he was settled in the back by his lonesome, the large hammer propped up on the wall next to him as he surveyed the room over the rim of his glass, making sure that no one lost their cool over a game turned sour.
Fenris does not love the thieves' guild, but it serves a purpose. The liger saunters in easily, hands stuffed in the pockets of his long, dark coat. He does not really manage to be intimidating. Though his powerful physique is nothing to scoff at, his general fluffiness and the exposed heart on his chest and belly take away any dark wow factor he might have. The easy smile also sets him apart from the usual crowd. He looks around easily, watching out for the lion he is here to meet.
One of the gamblers looks to be getting a little agitated with a hand that he's dealt, but a cough and a disapproving look from the large lion and several of the others serving as security get him to settle down in short order. Of all the places to start a barfight, this wasn't one of them. Though he doesn't recognize Fenris, his unusual appearance certainly catches the lion's attention, his thick brows raising as he sets his glass aside. "Looking for something?"
Fenris grins when he spots Reinhart and he saunters over and leans against the wall beside the lion. "Looking for you, actually," he says amiably, "I thought you might not recognize me, I was having some. . . er. . . size issues last time we met." He shrugs, "I think I owe you a drink after our little bout in the woods."
"For me?" The lion chuckles softly as the recollection settles in. "Well. I wouldn't turn down another drink if you want to buy my refill," the lion says as he takes up his glass and moves for the bar. "Join me, then? I'm not sure what you are looking for me for, though. I know you didn't come all the way down here just to buy this old lion a drink."
"I told you I would be looking you up," Fenris says brightly, following the lion to the bar and flagging down the rough looking bar tender. "I want to know about Calina," he confesses, "Not that I wouldn't just come down here to share a drink with you. But this is a business visit."
There's another low, rumbling laugh as he places his glass down for the bartender to refill with his choice. "Tall, dark, and lovey here is paying today. The usual." At Fenris' question, he turns to the side and frowns. "Who?" He asks plainly. Certainly didn't seem like much of a cover. He acts as if the name were just that. Another name.
Fenris tosses a few crown on the bar. Enough to pay for as much booze as the lion could handle. "Your previous employer," he says simply, "The one taking soul gems from soulless?" The liger raises an eyebrow. Surely he had not forgotten so quickly!
Reinhart snaps his finger. "Ahh, yes. The magpie lass. I haven't heard from her, honestly. What do you want to know? For me, it was just another job. She paid well. Mostly just wanted me to follow her around and look scary. Keep people in line if they got greedy."
"Greedy?" Fenris asks, "I thought they were just stealing soul gems?" He orders a Shralestan Ale, code for a tall glass of water in a stein. "What use could she have for the things?" he asks.
"That's what they were doing, yes," Reinhart says with a nod. "Stealing them for a cost. It wasn't terribly organized. She speaks some words to get people riled up. Gets it in their head that they should be taking revenge. That it's the soulless to blame for their lack of luck and fortune. From there, it's pretty easy to have them go out to steal soul gems. There are others that don't care about that kind of thing. They work for money. Sometimes those that work for money get greedy and demand more. Then it's my job to knock some sense into 'em." At the second question, the lion rubs his chin. "Can't rightly tell you what she wants with them. She doesn't like the soulless, but she's a... Thinker. So maybe she's got some nefarious plot that I don't know about. But you never trust a merc with your sensitive information."
Fenris nods. "I believe you," he says, "And I know better than throwing myself head first into danger all on my own." He smirks at the lion. "Well, most of the time," he admits. The liger leans his elbows on the bar. "New topic," he offers, "You're a Longtail, right? Where do you fall with the family?"
Reinhart scoffs at waves a dismissive hand. "Politics. Pah. Don't care much. We've got greedy felines leading both sides. What do I care? A name is a name. My last name could be Timmons and it wouldn't make a lick of difference. Any reason you're asking?"
"Nah," Fenris says with a shrug, "Just curious. Seems that I have drawn attention from both sides of the family, and I am not especially pleased about it." The feline looks around the bar. "This the new gig?" he asks, "I sort of thought you were too expensive for the Guild."
"Never too good for a job. That said, the Guild pays well when I'm on the downtime between jobs," comes the reply from the lion. "And really, now. What kind of attention have you gone and gotten, hm? Either way, that's a losing situation and you've got my sympathy."
Fenris waves a hand idly. "The worst kind, Reinhart," he says with a sigh, "I am too old for politics." The liger gives his leonine companion a rueful grin. "I thought being named mentor to Flora's twins would be fun!" he says, "Teach the kids some stuff, spoil them rotten, and send them home for noble lessons. No one told me that I was signing up to have a target painted on my back, you know?"
Reinhart leans forward, peering intently at Fenris. "You should've done your research before you signed on with the family. If I were you, I'd get out while you still can. It'll only get worse, I'm sure. And I hope, for their sake, there's no one important in your life. Because they -will- use them against you, if so. They don't care who they run over in their search for money and power. It's like they don't even remember that those are the reasons the family lost their power in the first place."
Fenris laughs. A free, easy sound. "Didn't know that Flora was a Longtail when I signed on," he says, "Neither did she." The liger shrugs. "I don't have anyone Reinhart," he says, "Not for a long, long time now. I am older than I look. For now, I am content just to stay out of the lime light." He tosses a few more coins on the bar. "Keep my friend here happy for as long as that will pay for," he says, "Thanks for the chat, Reinhart. Come round the training field and spar with me sometime. Nice to meet a level headed guy like you every now and then."
Reinhart bows his head and waves Fenris off. "Thanks for the drinks, then. And if that is the case... Well. Do yourself a favour. -Don't- get involved with anyone like that for as long as you're in the middle of Longtail affairs. Unless you want to lose 'em. And no one deserves to die because someone else happened to be involved in bad business."
"No need to worry about that," Fenris says, moving away, "I don't intend to lose anybody." He gives the lion a loose salute as he saunters toward the trap door. "Don't be a stranger," he says, "I've outlasted worse than the Longtails, I think. Let me know if any good jobs come up!"