First things first, defuse things.
“Sorry, that was uncalled for. We’re just on edge. Tonight hasn’t exactly gone smoothly so far, after all.”
He’s still frowning, but he seems a little less offended.
“Yeah, suppose I get what you mean. One more thing goes wrong and it could screw everything up, and nobody wants to be the one to take the blame for that.” He starts walking away. “At least they managed to corner the priest who set the fire. Nobody dares go near him, but he’s not going to have a chance to cause any more trouble.”
“Oh, that’s good,” you say. “Where’d they find him?”
“Don’t know,” the guard replies, walking off. “I just overheard a couple of Slippers talking about it. They were pretty shaken – sounded like he did a number on one of their fellows. Hopefully they can do more than just keep him pinned down.”
And with that, he walks off.
“Slippers?” Bert whispers.
“Local gang. It’s a bit of a silly name, I know – I think they mostly picked it as an excuse to beat up anyone who laughs at it.”
“Do they wear slippers?” Bert asks. “That’d make it easier to figure out who to ask.”
“No, but they still should be easy to identify,” you assure him.
They wear a lot of jewelry made from (supposedly stolen) cutlery