Koneig had walked in like he had just purchased the property, Torm noted, who followed in a manner that could only be described as a guarded confidence. Wary of a trap, but with no doubt that whoever leaped at him was going to die without much trouble. He didn't have his warhammer with him, after Koneig spent a good twenty minutes arguing with him on how they were just going to meet his contact and Torm's new partner, but the White Wolf still sported his armor and wolf pelt cloak, and he bore an arming sword at his side. The place looked snug enough, and though a White Wolf stood out wherever one went, the establishment was busy enough and with a number of flamboyant and important people judging by their dress that this could still potentially be a social visit. 

What Torm wasn't expecting was the tirade and bleeting from what would usually be considered a relatively attractive woman, next to another woman who seemed far more composed. Unfortunately, it looked like the loud one was the one he would be working with, judging by her outburst. Well, he was used to boisterous men and clangorous spaces, this wasn't going to be anything new. But he had expected someone more...professional. 

"None taken," he said, his worries more on their chances than any insults she might have thrown.

"Hey, hey," Koneig said, putting an arm around Hannah's shoulders. It was supposed to be reassuring, and while there was no threat, Torm noticed Koneig stood like he had all the power in their dynamic. Judging her more closely, her hands were rougher than most maidens and she had a few bruises on her not easily seen from a distance. He didn't think Koneig did the work, but he could tell she was probably roped into this as much, if not more so than Torm himself. Koneig continued. "Look, ye don' know wot you got tae deal with out there, eh? This lad has the muscles, the armor tha' can stop any pistol shot unless they get close enuff fe' him to bash 'em over the 'ead, yeah? And if ye need to get into high en' places, he can march ye roight in. Quick, easy, simple, luv."  

Torm raised an eyebrow. He knew he didn't have a choice, his superiors shoving him out the door to help this Koneig on his errands. But he would take some convincing on why he needed her, not that she likely wasn't good at what she did. He rubbed his goatee, always speaking when he likely shouldn't, his masters would say. 

"As long as you don't yell wherever we go, I think we'll live." He remarked, and it was difficult to tell if it was an awkward man making an earnest statement or a clever man having a jab. Dietricha looked away, holding her mouth as if to sneeze, though it was easy to see she was hiding a smile. In the background another call for drinks rang out by a merchant who appeared to have made a huge sale the day previously, judging by their drunken raucousness a table over.

Koneigh gave a long pause, and then wheezed out a laugh that sounded like a steam whistle. "Oi, brilliant! You two are going to be 'avin fun, I can tell ye that! Just make sure it's not all fun, mind. Now, do either of ye need to be briefed?"

"You haven't told me what we're doing, yet." Torm said, and then gave his best impression of the upfront, gap-toothed man. "'Skulkin' abowt' isn't a description."