Owen looked from Gerhardt to the young prince.
There was clear trepidation there. A certain unwillingness to divulge what he knew.
“Enders are the last thing you want to see, so don’t go and look for them.” He stated.
The grimace grew as a visible shiver ran across the man’s features.

“Leongarde chose to let Belisio fall, because the relationship between the two countries has been strained for quite some time. In their eyes Belisio had become nothing more than a bully, regardless of how we might feels about such matters.” 
It was Gerhardt who spoke earning an incredulous look from Owen.
“He will have to know Owen, I don’t intend to mollycoddle him, he needs facts and the truth unvarnished.”
“He’s still your prince…”
“Aye, but he should also be able to defend himself or be tough enough to hear the truth of matter.” Gerhardt countered before he turned to the prince again.

“Your father has dealt quite a few blows to this priestdom. First by the wrecking of the Mist harvesters they had lying near our border. Internal sources claimed they were spies and your father had their wares seized, naturally causing the High Priest much grief and distress. 
You know of the scarcity of water in our world, whilst Belisio has its own reserves Leongarde has far less, thus needing to mine and harvest more. 
This is also made more difficult due to the fact that Leongarde hates mages. They’re truly second class citizens here. Most live in poverty or live like slaves, tortured by just existing, hated by all non mages.
Thus they rely on the Mist harvesters to perform their dangerous work. A job that hardly pays enough for the risks involved, unless they make a little on the side by catching lighting. Again something that is considered outlawed and heavily fined by Belisian authorities.” Gerhardt took a sip from his cup. “So when a rather nasty thorn in your side for years suddenly gets attacked by a better equipped Vaimese army what would you do?
Intervene? To come to the rescue of your bully? It was a wonder back then that Auriel chose to aide us in the Great War with the Sorcerer King at all.” He ended.
Owen sighed heavily, despairingly.
“You have grown even grimmer than before brother.” He complained.
“I have become accustomed to failure and to the short sightedness of people in general, sadly something ‘we commoners’ pay the price for.
Owen snorted.
“You’re not a lowly commoner, never were. Always had a mouth two sizes too clever for your peers and were old before you reached your 13th year.”
Gerhardt made no comment to that, but shifted his attention back to the young prince.
“Anyone specific you could suggest to commend our skills to?”
Owen pondered the question for a moment as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“I currently work for Magistrate Tygren Connard, he is one of several Magistrates that try to keep the City in some state of order. You could try that. Simple guard’s work, but fairly steady pay and routines. Or you could dabble in those less…seen. Sicherwicker has been looking for ‘fresh faces’, especially in the mercenary line of work he is in, there’s great risk and great reward with his jobs.
Or you’d go prize fighter. They opened the Sandpit and always have an opening for young talent, prestige, power and riches come more easily with that.” Owen named thinking aloud.
“As long as you survive. The chances of dying are as good as certain with all the fighters and beasts they throw down there for to fight for the amusement of others.” Gerhardt added before sighing deeply.
“The Magistrate sounds like a good place to start, we need backing of those in power, the quicker we make ourselves agreeable to them the quicker they might reciprocate the act when calling in the favour.
Owen looked the prince over before he stroked the stubble of his cheeks.
“The boy’s not too bad looking, he might even fetch the attention of a higher up concerning his pristine and confident air, many a nobleman would pay a proper sum for a ‘bodyguard’ or a ‘companion’ provided the boy isn’t too squeamish about certain matters.”
Gerhardt spat his mouthful out on the suggestion.
“He is a Prince of Belisio, not one of the slaveboys from the docks! How much of a competent and dominant ruler will be appear to be if some Leongardian Nobleman bends him over every night for ‘his’ pleasure?! Out of the question.”
“All I am saying it pays well and makes you rise ranks quickly. If the boy isn’t against it why not look to that option?” Owen suggested shrugging his shoulders.
Gerhardt shook his head at his younger brother.
“We’re not going to do that.” Gerhardt ended that option clearly, before asking.
“What about the Faithful Guard?” 
Owen frowned. 
“They’re rather ‘particular’ in who they allow to enter that particular order. No one really can get a grip on their requirements for that, making it all the harder to get in those ranks.” He warned. “Your best option is the Magistrate, though he’ll not come up with the best paying jobs immediately and it might take too long.” 
“Could you introduce us?”
“Sure thing, I can do that later tonight. I run the late shift, checking the streets of the Lilypond. Horrible hours, but good pay concerning the area of the city.”
“You mean a cushy job, you lazy rat, you’re practically walking the golden route.” Gerhardt pointed out.
“Hahaha hardly they pay extra for each thief, murderer and brigand you bring in. With the Lilypond you’re more then half of the time chewed out, because of the clientele’s delicate feelings or keeping two noblemen from duelling each other. The harbour and Market are the goldmine here.” He replied. Most of the time the work is tedious and boring, little action and when called to action there is little thanks for it in return. But it is best shown, so I suggest you both eat and rest, cause if you’re set on this, I’ll take you with me tonight.”