Once again, there was a rapping upon the sturdy wooden door in the form of the passcode to gain entry.  Though it might have been a little louder than one would have expected for access to a secret meeting.  Not that it was loud enough to ring out through the streets, but it certainly lacked the hushed restraint that was typical of such signals.  The door had barely been cracked open before a man six feet tall, slim, and made out of whipcord and steel cable pushed his way through.  A dark grey cloak framed his shoulders while also accentuating the hilt of the greatsword that rode at his back.  The tavern's lights flickered dully off the metal breastplate ornately designed to resemble sculpted muscle.  Granted it was an over exaggeration to the living muscle beneath, but not by too much.<br/><br/>Fenris walked with a sort of embellished swagger as he entered the tavern, though only a fool would mistake it for genuine arrogance.  It was one of the many forms that his thrill for an enticing contract took.  "No worries, everybody; Fenris Wolfe is here and accounted for."  His long strides carried him towards the bar, looking at everybody in the room and nodding in friendly greeting to any who would meet his gaze.<br/><br/>"Barkeep!  A mug of mead if you please."  He said as he flicked a piece of silver to the bartender in a high arc that was caught easily enough.  "Hold on to the change, I'll likely be coming back for a second helping."  A moment later, a mug was set before him and he didn't waste time picking it up and taking a generous pull from the sweet liquid within.  After a satisfied sigh from the drink, he dropped into one of the empty wooden chairs and leaned back into his seat.<br/><br/>"Seeing how I'm not officially on the clock just yet," Fen said to Asleod with a wide comical grin on his face, deep green eyes beaming with excitement, "I suppose I can't charge this as a job expense, huh?"