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It was a ritual that he engaged in every week or two, though lately he'd been waiting for Mrs. Grint to go to bed first. And tonight he had also had to wait for Gideon to fall asleep as well. A chest sat open in the middle of the floor in Drustan's study, it's contents gleaming softly in the smoky, candlelit room. Masks, masks of all colors and complexities though they all shared a similar theme: they resembled birds in one way or another. Drustan took great pleasure in his collection of Obscuvian masks, though he rarely wore any of the more expensive, fancier ones to meetings. In fact, the mask that he currently held in his hand as he reclined was very simple, made of ivory that had mellowed over the years and glowed a soft yellowish cream in the dim light. He ran a cloth over it fondly as he breathed deeply of the opium smoke that drifted from censer sitting on his desk. Nearby sat his precious glass of mulled wine - Drustan had gotten into the habit of talking to it as if it could already understand him.

"Sleep sleep, my little one sleep... Under His wing where dreaming runs deep. Sigh, sigh, my little one sigh... Safe in His nest while the Remnants all cry. They burn, they burn, the infidels burn... While we rest in His bosom safe, sleepy and warm. Pray, pray, my precious one pray... That you'll emerge as a Truth on the judgement day. Fly, fly, my darling one fly... On Obscuvo's wings you will conquer the sky." He hummed the old familiar lullaby softly. It could have been that he was singing to himself, or to the wine, or just repeating the tune that had aided Gideon in falling asleep that night. It could be that the gentle opium high had made him confused about where he was. Drustan finished the song and giggled softly to himself, taking a sip of the very expensive whiskey he had been drinking. He had grown up in a family that enjoyed mind and mood altering substances on a regular basis. Drustan saw nothing wrong with opium or alcohol, though he was aware that others felt differently. Those others were not usually Obscuvians, though. So their opinions mattered little.

When the frantic knock came at the door, Drustan heard it almost as if there were a pillow pressed to his ear. But as he realized that there was actually a person seeking to gain entrance to his home, he immediately sobered up and became aware. Rising to his feet he put the mask into the chest and closed the lid, though he made a sloppy job of it in his haste and it stayed slightly open, the contents peeking through to be spotted by a discerning eye. He made his way to the small entrance hall and opened the door slightly. What he saw caused his brows to raise nearly to his hairline, but he opened the door immediately and ushered the ragged thief inside.

"Kalends?" Drustan asked with a frown. "Is that really you? You look terrible. What happened?" He closed the door as soon as the other man had entered and slid the solid lock into place.

Drustan smiled comfortingly. It wasn't something he did frequently, at least not where most people could spot him at it, but he'd found himself acting as a comforter much more often since he'd taken in Gideon. He was discovering that he rather dreaded the day that the House decided they wanted the boy. "Don't worry. This place is safe... I'm not without my resources and the... there are people that have a keen interest in preserving the safety of my family, myself not the least among them. And anyways," His tone grew cheerful, "Nobody in their right mind would expect you to be hiding here. You must be starving... Mrs. Grint has already gone to bed, but I was taking some refreshments in the study. Would you like something?"

Without waiting for Kalends to answer, Drustan led them both to the study. He walked with a slower, more confident air which was a side effect of the relaxing smoke of the opium. When Drustan relaxed a lot of his physical awkwardness seemed to melt away. Apparently, so did some of his observational skills as he did nothing to finish closing the chest from which his mask collection peeked, nor did make a move to hide the clearly Plagued glass of wine. Instead he poured two generous glasses of whiskey and handed one to Kalends, sitting himself down and gesturing to a plate of half-eaten fruits and cheeses. "Have a seat, help yourself."

Drustan smiled at Kalend's initial tongue-in-cheek comment about the wine. "Ah, well, you've caught me I suppose." He ran his hand through his hair. "I talk to it sometimes, you know. So that it will know me when it changes... however that happens. I don't think anyone really knows a lot about the process yet." Taking a slice of winter apple off the plate, he chewed it thoughtfully while watching Kalends. "You're string tighter than a lute, Kalends. Drink it, it will take the edge off. You can't stay this wound-up for long, it takes a toll. People can die from being strung too tightly, you know." He inhaled deeply, feeling the slight dulling effects of the remaining opium smoke. "And anyways, theres nothing wrong with losing a little control once in awhile. It's good for you."

If he hadn't already been somewhat inebriated when the unexpected knock came on his door, Drustan would have never been so casual, nor would he have shared so much with the thief. It was perhaps bad luck or possibly fortuitous timing that found him enjoying a rare moment of nighttime relaxation just when Kalends was in dire need of help. Between the alcohol and the drug, Drustan was feeling oddly brotherly to Kalends.

Drustan grinned back, finding Kalends' comment inexplicably humorous. Taking the dwindling bottle of whiskey, he topped up first Kalends' and then his own. "Not a madman, though you would probably benefit by a better network of supportive allies. I get by because most of my enemies don't realize that I'm their enemy. It's quite a good way to go through life." He noticed the way Kalends was eyeing the chest containing his masks.

It was a risk... but it would be a calculated one. Kalends had already sought him out, which meant there was a level of trust. If he had something to fall back on, Drustan was sure he would have done that before seeking help from someone he barely knew. Which meant that he was desperate. And Obscuvos knew the House loved the desperate.

"I imagine," Drustan stated guilelessly, "that you could probably use some help with your enemies. Like I said... A network."

"There are three prominent groups throughout Panymium. There are the mages, if you have any skills with magic they will take you in and train you. There are the scientists, and I don't think you have to be particularly skilled to be a scientist. Though they require intelligence and devotion and often a certain lack of scruples. And then there's the House of Obscuvos, who run most of the orphanages in Panymium but have also earned a bit of a tarred reputation of late." Drustan sipped his drink thoughtfully, gauging Kalends' reaction to his descriptions.

"As merchants, my family is required to deal closely with all three of these groups without showing preference to any of them. So I've had the opportunity to notice the strength and weaknesses of each. And if it's protection you're looking for it's the House you want to seek." That, for the moment, was as far as Drustan was willing to commit. At least, it would be until he got drunk enough to become stupid. He drained his glass for the second time. "Something that bears consideration, at least. Though I don't know how you'd feel associating with religious types who spend their time caring for widows and orphans and protecting the freedom of Plagues." This last statement was quite calculated on Drustan's behalf and he hoped it would have the desired effect of catching Kalends' attention.

"The Obsuvists protect anyone who is loyal to their cause." Drustan shrugged as if it were of no importance. "They also have need for all kinds of people. You can't imagine that caring for the downtrodden is cheap. Or that protecting them doesn't carry dangers. There is always use for people of... unique abilities." Drustan refilled their waning glasses once again. As much as he wanted to step up on his own personal soap box and explain to Kalends exactly how much faith in Obscuvos and his followers could enrich and improve his life, he knew he couldn't. To rail against unbelievers to someone who seemed so close to taking that step towards Obscuvos would be unwise. He had to bite his tongue and take a long swig of whiskey. He knew that planting the seed and letting it take root on it's own was the best way to go with someone like Kalends, but it was so damn hard not to tell him everything. Especially with large amounts of alcohol coursing through his system. He was beginning to feel light and silly.

"Your abilities are certainly unique." He added. "I don't have any skills like yours. Most people don't." His tone sounded almost wistful. "I suppose thievery is something that takes a great deal of practice."

When Kalends made the suggestion that he could even teach someone such as Drustan something about breaking into homes and picking locks, Drustan felt an unfamiliar thrill of excitement course through his body. Of course his parents wouldn't approve, which was a large part of the appeal. But there was also the fact that Drustan was well aware he was awkward and clumsy even though he desperately wished he weren't. And Kalends had such an... an edge to him. Drustan envied that knowledge and access to an element of society's seedy underbelly that had never been offered to him. In short, Drustan realized that he had a deep yearning to learn how to be bad and sneaky and something completely different than what he was.

"I'd be up for the challenge." He said, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice but not doing a very good job as he was fairly inebriated. "But I don't know whose house we would break into..."