Stedder sucked his gums against his teeth and stepped back. He was dressed in what had once been a fine coat, though it was a little too tight for him and the oils from his neck had crusted the pristine white of the collar. The gnatty wescoat was somewhat spoiled by what appeared to be a pair of knife holes in the back.

"Tits and thievery are too great flavors that don't go great together," Stedder groused, turning to lead them to a corner where a trio of chairs sat around an upended ale barrel which served as a table. A none too clean linen cloth was spread across the top scattered with a handful of what looked to be small rubies and a gem cutters ocular in dented brass. Stedder folded it expertly and stuffed it into his tunic, shooting Neil a suspicious look as he did so.

"Man can't think clearly if he is using the smaller of his heads," Steeder continued, taking a seat with his back to the warehouse wall.

"One man's opinion," Emmaline replied with a droll smile. She took a seat on a three legged stool as Neil slid into the remaining chair. Without obvious summons a boy of perhaps ten years appeared carrying three tankards of foaming ale. He set one down infront of each guest with practiced aplomb. As he set down Emmaline's her hand shot out and seized his wrist. The boy yelped and tried to pull way but without success. She forced his hand open and retrieved the leather coin purse he had lifted from beneath her cloak and tucked it back into its pocket. The white linen of the gem rag was just visible at the cuff of the boy's frayed jacket but Emmaline figured that was Stedder's problem and let go of the squirming child.

"Tibs what have I told you about stealing from the guests?" Stedder demanded without particular animus.

"Not to get caught?" the boy stuck in impudently, running a finger though his mop of brown hair.

"Right, now bugger off we have business," Stedder continued, turning his gaze back to Neil and Emmaline. The kid vanished as quickly as he had appeared, taking the rubies with him.

"Apologies," Stedder grunted, taking a gulp of ale that left a foamy residue across his upper lip. He let out a satisfied belch and then wiped it away with his sleeve. Emmaline took a somewhat more decorous sip and found the ale to be creamier and less bitter than was the taste in Altdorf.

"Things are a bit unsettled here with the siege and all, one of these splinter groups filtering through the Drakwald and picking up every beastman and mutant they can find. With most of the armies still in the north there isn't much to check them," Stedder lamented. Emmaline avoided rolling her eyes. Every tavern, and apparently thieves den, had someone who was willing to play armchair Reikmarshall at any opportunity. Fortunately Neil didn't pick up on the comment to invite any discussion, letting the silence hang for a moment. 

"You mentioned blackmailing me for information?" Stedder asked, apparently having concluded the social niceties.