[center][h1][color=ff5000][b]Renar[/b][/color] & [b][color=orange]Lein[/color][/b][/h1][/center][hr]


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	Lein was familiar with the Knight of Brias’ office - in theory, anyhow. Last time he slipped by, he hailed a flustered messenger and bothered them into handing over the oil for Steffen’s door. The time before that, he rigged one of the passageways with marbles, dropping individually at irregular intervals and causing much inglorious racket as they rolled loudly across the flagstones. Though by circumstance or some mute sense of nebulous aversion, Lein had never actually dipped his toes into Renar’s office proper.

	That was not the case for today, however. In one arm, he held a codex of complaints he had intercepted from the very same messenger. In the other, he balanced a careful stack of books, copied treatise and yet more frayed documents. In a deeper pocket still, he stowed away a coded letter, stamped with the Church’s symbol.

	With his foot, he knocked on the door, and deepened his voice to mimic Steffen’s greeting as best he could. [color=orange]“It’s me.”[/color]

	Renar wasn’t fooled. Whoever it was, it certainly wasn’t Steffen. A poor imitation, perhaps. Still, best to just get it done with.

	[color=ff5000][b]”Enter.”[/b][/color] He said, looking up from his paperwork. When Lein inevitably came in, Renar just sighed, shaking his head.

	[color=ff5000][b]”There’s really no need for the theatrics, you know. I would have let you in regardless. In any case, I take it you need something from me?”[/b][/color]

	[color=orange]“Never got good at hitting the low notes. But must you be so direct?” [/color]Lein said airily, [color=orange]“I’m just never used to being welcomed in.”[/color] He took a good scan of the room, noting any kind of crevice or snug-hole that he could squeeze a ply or two. The office was certainly a well-kept one, if not studious like Steffen’s. It was more, how did one call it - austere? Attentive.

	The Hundi offered up the codex on his left hand, some of the pages clearly tampered with by their poor fitting. [color=orange]“I’m here to demonstrate my services, by way of apology.”[/color]

	The office was relatively spartan, with little in the way of decoration aside from a few shelves, modestly stocked with tomes. A brief scan over them would reveal an eclectic collection of noble genealogies, legal and taxation records, and various fictional novels.

	[color=ff5000][b]”Apology? You’re being more of a nuisance to Sir Steffen than I am.”[/b][/color] Nonetheless, Renar took the book, starting to flip through the pages and skimming.

	[color=ff5000][b]”And what services would those be? I don’t need anyone shot or stolen from, at the moment.”[/b][/color] Actually a blatant lie at this point, but he didn’t exactly need to tell everyone about it. 

	Lein didn’t bother ro clarify what he was apologizing for. If Renar didn’t find out already, he’d find out soon enough. [color=orange]“Steff? Heh, guess he’d be the one to actually bother filing those? Thought that vampire would be the one to be complaining.”[/color] Though she’d actually follow through with it, Lein thought. Lein set down the rest of his paperwork on Renar’s desk with a hurt expression dripping with irony. [color=orange]“And my, where d’you hear about what I do? I’m not all that, though I’m more than happy to visit some of your less friendly associates.”[/color]

	Lein approached Renar’s collection of genealogies, a collection more specialized than the ones in the library. Unsurprising. Given Renar’s ambitions, this would certainly be within his expertise. [color=orange]“No, my main trade is a fair bit more valuable than a knife to the back or a mansion pilfered: stories. Real ones, fake ones, exaggerated affairs, harmless rumors and -”[/color] he turned to Renar, [color=orange]“ill repute.”[/color]

	Renar barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. So Lein was a rumormonger. Wonderful. If it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t trust the Hundi to actually do as he was bid, it might have even been good news. But alas. 

	[color=ff5000][b]”Where did I hear it? I do notice things, you know. You aren’t exactly a poor shot in the field, and your predilection for making an unseen nuisance of yourself does imply that you’re somewhat of a sneak. But let’s not keep dancing around the point.”[/b][/color] Renar stared Lein dead in the eyes. 

	[color=ff5000][b]”I’m not about to accept an ‘apology’ over something that I’m not even aware you’ve done. A rather thin premise, all told. Why don’t you just tell me what you want, and we can work something out from there. I think the two of us are well-versed enough in these matters that we can be honest when we simply want something. I’ll certainly not take it personally that you’re only speaking to me for some sort of service.”[/b][/color]

	Straight to the point. Between drunkards he had to butter up for several bottles before his pitch, or certain knights with bleeding hearts he had to tip-toe around, this Lein liked. Faced against Renar’s frigid remarks, Lein remained unwaveringly jovial, fidgeting with a pen from Renar’s desk. If Renar thought the Hundi was experienced with ‘these matters’, then it was only a fair conclusion that Renar had at least indulged in the cause of his ill repute.

	[color=orange]“Trust is always stronger when it goes both ways, non? I’m not the one to ask for a service without offering one in exchange, and a man of your ambitions could always use a finger on the scale or two. Really now, efficient as you are, your choice of company fascinates me.”[/color]

	The Hundi set the pen aside and pushed the desk clear of documents to make way for his own. From his sheaf of papers, Lein pulled up the initiate of his scheme, a scrawling letter listing a number of duelists - some with a decent track record, others less notable. Next to most of the latter entries was written the name of a house or lord. Whoever wrote it was in haste, secretive, or both. [color=orange]“Are you familiar with the dueling scene in Evenest? A rather big shot tourney’s coming up - the Harvest Invitational.”[/color]

	The mention of Evenest had Renar realize exactly why Lein wanted his assistance. When he looked down the list, it wasn’t even a surprise to find that he’d known a few of these duelists in the past, whether by reputation or an actual meeting.

	[color=ff5000][b]”You know very well that Evenest is practically on the doorstep to House Brias’s lands. But you’re asking a bastard to presume any official power.”[/b][/color] Renar stated, a hint of bitterness clouding his tone. [color=ff5000][b]”My relationship with my lord father doesn’t allow me that kind of leeway.”[/b][/color]

	[color=orange]“Then take it from him.”[/color] Lein replied directly. [color=orange]“They may deny you but your Brias name still holds power. Lookee here.”[/color] Another two parchments were placed next to the first, both much more cleanly written than the first, with an elegant handwriting requesting the denouncement of the participation of a certain Sir Adelina Kemlia. At the bottom, four signatures of minor houses were arranged under a large, blank space. [color=orange]“A real piece of work, this one. Daughter of this duke who’s been nicking estates from his cousin with inheritance rights finangling. Then she has the guts to head over to the very same cousin and asks for a sponsor to the Invitational. Something about winning a duel for her dear granny’s birthday the day after. Now that kinda familial cannibalizing doesn't sit right with me, and neither does it to any of these four.”[/color]

	[color=orange]“In the event of a complaint of sponsorship, the duel with the knight in question must be adjourned for three days or until such matters are settled by the presiding council - including jurisdictional matters of the signatories should they be in dispute.”[/color] Lein said. Not that he had much understanding of this whole legalese himself, but this much he understood - his aim was to simply get the letter in the door. And that much, if Renar allowed it, was under his control. The only question now lay with the risk of signing the Brias name. After all - should they be in dispute, the council could very well announce why.

	Loathe as he was to admit it, Lein did have a point. In truth, he’d only said what he did just to be difficult. The legalese was sound, as well. Adelina was…familiar to him. Taking her down a peg would prove to be entertaining, if nothing else. The potential ramifications on his end were simply his father’s displeasure and scorn, and that currency had ceased to have any value with Renar ages ago. But still…

	[color=ff5000][b]”As someone who’s met Adelina in person, I can confirm that she is in fact, an utter harridan. And yet, this still doesn’t explain why you’re so invested in this matter. While you do have a tendency to meddle, this is far enough away from Candaeln that it’s somewhat of a surprise you’re even aware of it. I can think of only a few reasons why you would be so interested in a regional tourney of Thalnan knights.”[/b][/color] Renar thought out loud as he considered Lein’s angle before looking the archer dead in the eyes.

	[color=ff5000][b]”Which contestant are you or your associate betting on?”[/b][/color]

	Lein’s finger drew a line from Adelina’s name down to another name. [color=orange]“The duel involving the knight in question would be put off for three days, yes? And won’t it be horrid if Sir Seras here, so far from home, would have to wait for his duel for a score more days? I hear he’s hiding a wasting sickness. That can’t be good for his health or his duel, for that matter. Would be awful for Sir Adelina to fight a sickly man.”[/color] Humiliate Adelia, force Seras’ loss and profit off them both. Though he neglected to mention that Seras’ manor would be swept through, Lein was involving Renar more into the scheme than wisdom dictated. He saw potential payoff down the road. There was a caustic undercurrent to the Brias between every word, accusing everything he could grasp between his hands, scorning what he could not, but there was undeniably an insatiable flame to it too. Lein would do well to invest this trust early. 

	The Hundi met Renar’s gaze with a smile of equal staunchness. [color=orange]“I’m not the kind to meddle with the affairs of nobles if I can help it. But I always do right by people who did me a favor or two, and this is just my hospitality to my friends. And haughty little missy getting her comeuppance? That’s always a tale to tell the barkeep.”[/color]

	Well, that explained some things. If Lein was being even remotely truthful, that was. Renar steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and under the bridge of his nose as he considered the matter. Frankly, this was already amusing enough that he’d already decided to join in this matter. He’d considered the angles already, and any consequences had little in the way of personal risk for himself especially. Moreover, it would give him better insights into the man sitting opposite him should he ever require such. 

	[color=ff5000][b]”Fine. Consider me in on this little diversion of yours. To clarify, you only require Renar of House Brias to get this formal complaint through the door, correct? As for my payment, how about we hold that for a future favor? It’ll be commensurate with the effort involved here, of course.”[/b][/color]

	[color=orange]“A signature for a favor. Sounds like a bargain.”[/color] Lein watched Renar carefully as the signature was penned into the letter. He could always study it after, but there was always the benefit of watching each movement of the pen make its loops, factoring in the height and ink that was used. The deal was already far easier than Lein had expected. Did he overestimate the risk that the possibility of a Brias signature being rejected posed to Renar? Or did Renar simply not care? 

	[color=orange]“Y’know, you’re a lot more agreeable than they tattle about you. If I had paid any real attention to Fionn, I’d have thought you were planning to throttle folk in the streets. Bad air undeserved, I say.”[/color]

	Renar looked up from signing just in time to note Lein staring at him intently. Or at least, his gaze was a little lower than that. If he traced it back in his mind…ah. So that’s what this was about. He’d played straight into his hand. How vexing. There was little to it, then. He’d simply extract a steeper concession from Lein when the time came.

	[color=ff5000][b]"Fionn worries like a batty old grandmother."[/b][/color] The Bastard of Brias remarked blithely, sliding the letter back across the desk. [color=ff5000][b]"The concern is appreciated at times, but it’s stifling otherwise. I’m sure you and Serenity can both agree on that. In any case, if that’s all, feel free to shut the door on your way out. And Lein?"[/b][/color] Renar gave a wan smile. 

	[color=ff5000][b]"I’ll be far less agreeable next time should I hear of anything signed in my name that I’ve never touched personally."[/b][/color]

	[color=orange]“We’re partners now, [i]ami[/i]. Of course not. Oh, and before I go,”[/color] Lein replied as he took up the remaining papers from Renar’s table, save for one. The lone envelope was even more carefully preserved than the list or the signatories, even smelling faintly of perfume as whoever enclosed it had taken pains to make their message as elegant as possible. This, Lein pushed further toward Renar, his eyes glinting with impish malice. [color=orange]“My apology.”[/color]

	The letter would be painful to read - not for the handwriting, as it was elegant and clearly declarative; gushing about good Sir Renar and his many, many superlative virtues heard from a humble Hundi bard. It ended with a promise to win the knight’s heart by any means necessary, an invitation to a romantic retreat, and a signature from “a secret admirer”. The messenger was already gone, the cascading laughter trailing down the hallway.

	Renar frowned to himself as he finished reading over the letter. He took it all back: Lein was a blithering idiot.
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