"Place like this... sure to bring about shady fellas. Shady fellas hate the dark."

"It be fortunate that the dung sweepers we be going to protect are going to be working in the day," says Tyrus to the others, "because tomorrow morning, I'll be carrying me crossbow and not a lantern, like when we be in the sewers."

Then he adds, "Do we be knowing where we be meeting the ones we be protecting? It be sensible to visit that place now, instead of searching for it early tomorrow morning."

"They start their shift outside the Muleskull Tavern, on Ship Street," one of the current guards respond.  "It's the dungsweeper's guildhall, so protection there is provided, your job is to make sure they aren't attacked on the street by the Zhentarim or Xanathar, or any other threats," he says.

"Thank ye," Tyrus says to the guard. He then turns to the others and says, "What say we find this Muleskull Tavern so we be knowing where to go on the morrow? That way we could have a drink while we learn a bit more about this job."

"I think that's a good idea, Tyrus," Briga says.  "If we share a few drinks with the workers they might trust us more, and be more willing to open up about their concerns."  

The Abadnoned Dragons make their way to the Muleskull Tavern.  For the Dock Ward, this is probably one of the most well-kept buildings, however the smell is rather overpowering of dung and sweat.  Everyone in the tavern apart from the group are all wearing the badge of the Dungsweeper's Guild, and you realise you may have just walked into a guildhall.

"I think we just walked into the s*** house.  Or dung house.  Dung sweeper's place."  Briga's nose crinkles, then she shrugs.  "I guess we can't complain since our of our last missions took us into the sewers, right?"

"How am I ever to keep my armor clean? Well, one day it will be us sending people into sewers. Success starts somewhere."

[OOC: Tyrus looks around for anything that looks like a reception or information desk where he can go and ask questions, and perhaps even find out who they will be escorting tomorrow.]

Tyrus walks up to what would best fit what his looking for - the bar.  "You'll be guiding a group of four, your rotational group mentioned they spoke to you just a few minutes ago.  So, you can ask them," a halfling woman says cheerfully.  "As to questions, we're told that security will be handled by the alliance so that our people are protected, been more crime scene cleanups than we'd like though, thanks to the gang war going on," she comments.  "So, you can ask, but you might know more than most of us," she explains.

Tyrus listens to the halfling woman and then asks, "So, we be turning up here first thing tomorrow morning to meet the people we be protecting? Is that the right of it?"

"Yep, the guildmembers spend their time in the members section of the tavern, your more than welcome to talk to the other groups that act as guards for them here," the barkeep answers.

"Thanks to you," says Tyrus, looking around at the people in the room. "Can I be buying ye a drink for your trouble, or be that only possible for guild members."

[OOC: If the answer is yes, he will buy the Abandoned Dragons and the innkeeper an ale. Please tell me how much coin to take off my character sheet.]

[It'll be 2 silver and 4 copper total for the group, as non-members of the guild]

"No, you can still purchase drinks, just the guild get a discount," the barkeep responds with a smile.

"Drink up, my friends, it's my shout," calls Tyrus to the rest of the Abandoned Dragons. "But don't be getting used to it," he then adds, feeling the lack of weight in his purse.

He then asks, "By the way, what do we be charging for our drinks? Does anyone know?"

"I should suspect not!" in reference to getting used to Tyrus paying. Griff's dragonborn face scrunches up. "I hope something competitive and fair but a number that wont drive us out of business... all that number stuff hurts my head... In fact, so does this investigatin' stuff. I"m going to need to find the guilty party soon to make them answer to justice... that's what I started callin' my maul, you like it?"

"'Tis a good name," says Tyrus while taking a sip of his brew and studying the weapon and its owner. "Maybe tomorrow morning we'll be learning more about what's going on. Then ye will know where justice is needed."

[OOC: DM, how are the other patrons of the inn behaving towards us? Are any of them looking at us angrily, or behaving suspiciously? Tyrus will take note of such things while talking with the others.]

"I dig it, Griff," Briga says.  "Weapons with names are cool.  When I get a magic polearm I'll have to come up with something like that.  I don't know if I should name this orc sticker, since I might end up getting it dissolved by an ooze or something.  Anyway, Tyrus is right, we might see some action tomorrow." 

"Maybe I could change mine to Law, and you could name yours Order. Or something. Or yours could be Liberty and mine would be Justice or I dont know, you could name it something like ironic like Peace or Harmony or Dainty."

Looking around, the patrons don't seem to be acting suspicious at all, but Griffdar finds that most of the other patrons are members of the Lords Alliance.  Dungsweepers Guild members also pass through, but they seem to be drinking seperately in a seperate bar in the same tavern, in a private section dedicated to guildmembers only, and behind closed doors.