“Seems we’ve got a request for help and it’s signed by a Burgundy. You just mentioned knowing someone by that name, didn’t you?”
“It may have come up,” Long says with a shrug. “Although I have to say, he’s the sort who’d ask the town guard for help first. So if he’s sending a request to your group, it must be quite serious. What’s the trouble?”
“All he says is that something’s threatening the hospital. Not really giving a lot of details on what, though.” Spade frowns. “He’s asking for twenty of us to help his group stand guard.”
Ah. And he doesn’t know what to make of the request. So he’s probably hoping to get some clarification from you two.
“I’ve met him too,” you interject. “He’s a pretty serious type. It might be vague, but it’s bound to be a real threat.”
Although you wonder how he even knew to contact them. Spade’s probably wondering that, too. Maybe one of the Flames told him?
“Twenty is a good portion of our forces,” Spade grumbles. “And even if you’re right, if I don’t know what we’re dealing with, I’m going to have a hard time deciding who’s best to send.”
“Let me have a look, then,” Long says. “I know him the best of anyone here. Maybe I can read between the lines.”
Grudgingly, Spade hands the note to him. Long pores over it in earnest.
Why, this wasn’t written by him at all. It’s likely a trap to trick you into compromising whatever you’re guarding here and elsewhere. Which is what, exactly?