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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Trench" data-source="post: 4119750" data-attributes="member: 40464">Kinkade Munro and Benson Gallaway- Oldtown"Say, friend," Kinkade says, examining the sick man's dress and mannerisms, "Maybe you need a sit down. Somewhere out of the rain?"The man looks up and starts weeping drunkenly."I can't... I can't keep doing... Aw... I mean I have a wife!""Wives are good things to have," Kinkade answers politely, attempting to help the man up. "What's say we go get ourselves cleaned up before she finds out about all this. What's her name?""Dagmar," he sniffs. "I... Where am I going? It's too dangerous...""Nah, Oldtown's not dangerous, friend," Kinkade assures him, "Not with Benson and I here on the Watch. No more dangerous than your day job, I reckon. Taking a break today?""No! I mean... dangerous at work!"He leans in conspirationally and Kinkade almost gags at the reek of gin. "People are angry." he shakes his head. "Can't... Don wanna go back.""Aheh," the young machinist winces, grinning, "Certainly understandable. As are the...indiscretions. But maybe your time would be better served trying to fix your problem rather than avoiding it. I'm sure that's the way Dagmar would prefer it, anyhow.""And you don't have to go home right now. Where do you work, friend?" Benson does his best to keep the man standing and moving toward the watch tower.    "Ironworker's Guild, by the looks of it," Kinkade answers Benson, motioning to his guild patch.The man can barely walk as he's half-led, half-dragged to the Watchtower."No! It's... I build things but people are angry. They say the Masons did it. And they're fighting in the streets. And... and someone threw bricks into my forge...""Building things, eh? A man after my own heart. Throwing bricks into your forge, hm?" Kinkade muses. "That won't do, will it? And what's happening at the guild to stop you?" Kinkade asks. "Who's angry, and why?"    The man opens his mouth and suddenly closes it. He looks a little more frightened now."Can't... I don't know if- Just. I need sleep. Is the tower-?"Kinkade and Benson have just about managed to drag their charge past the massive columns of the Administration building. Clerks and other government workers give the trio a wide berth as they walk across the street to the Watchtower. It isn't long before they come across a few other guards."Another one, eh?" he asks."Trying to duck things out at the White House," Kinkade confirms. "Is this all because of the murder I've heard about?"    "It ain't helping," the guard says as he takes the drunken Ironworker off the pair's hands. "Hells, you can tell us. Schenk wants you two to head over to the Guildsman Watchtower. They're putting something together over there.""Must be nice to have that last name huh Munro?" the other guard smirks. "I'd love a free day off.""Yes, a free day off will be quite nice," Kinkade smiles, not letting the jab get to him. "I'm sure that's what we've in store, from the sounds of things over in Guildsman."Before they can take the ironworker away, Kinkade puts a hand on his shoulder. "Not to worry. We'll settle things down."And, turning, he adds, "Stay true to Dagmar, friend. No more working girls, eh?"Roger starts weeping again. "Aw... Aw I wish...""Geez, come on," the snarky guard says. The other guard reaches into his tunic and hands Benson a letter. "Here," he says. "She said to hand it to them when you get there. Don't ask me who 'they' are, I just work here."Kinkade turns to Benson, interested. "What's it say?""Ah, you know how it goes - if they wanted us to know what it said, they wouldn't have written it in a letter. 'Ptolus' Finest' messenger service in action yet again." Benson tucks the letter away, then heads back out to the streets.    Kinkade and Benson walk down the Dalenguard Road and quickly join up with the main street of the Emperor's Road. Past the cliffs, the change from the stoic historical streets of Oldtown rapidly gives way to the more modern two-story buildings of the South Market. A woman sweeps in front of a store called simply "The Wood Shop", where many carved chairs and stools hang from hooks in her wooden awning.But this close to Midtown, the oddity and chaos of Midtown bleeds over. Spiced meats are cooked in the morning rain, and a litorian eyes them hungrily. A group of obvious Delvers walk past them into Oldtown grumbling something about permits.    "You and I are no mere messengers, Gallaway," Kinkade says, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on the hilt of his father's greatsword. "You heard them back there, man...this is some kind of special assignment. We're to put a stop to all the violence. And none too soon, if you ask me."</blockquote>

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