A Morning Patrol (Open)

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((Thread is open, but please no more than 3 active participants at a time, aside from me. Things get too messy otherwise!))

 

R'elend yawns sleepily as he trods down the alleys of Ul'dah in the rusty red armor of the Brass Blades, lit by a murky morning light. Things had been tense ever since the Flame General's rampage, and the treachery of the Scions. The city felt like a wasps nest, one that needed only the smallest jostle to explode into anger and violence.

 

He yawns again, looking around for trouble. Violence was bad for business, bad for his paycheck, and bad for his health. He and his brethren have been working overtime for the past few weeks, finding anything that might disrupt the fragile balance of the city...

 

And beating the piss out of it.

 

So the Miqo'te walks, and he watches.