[h1][color=royalblue]Baldwin[/color][/h1]
[hr]
[indent][b][i]November 18, 8:40 PM
West Commons, The Pale Horse[/i][/b][/indent]
Baldwin smiled at the familiar tones and manner of Morgan as he made his way up to Baldwin's table and listed off the culinary options available to him. So polite, Morgan was, as always. Baldwin briefly wondered if he would receive the same treatment if his Hand status was not as pronounced as the badge upon his chest. His smile did not waver as he tapped his cane upon the floor, Morgan now finished with his list of foods.

[color=royalblue]"Morgan, I would be forever grateful if you could just bring me something simple. Something fresh. Preferably without too many bones or fiddly-bits. Some thigh sounds absolutely divine right now. And bring me something strong to drink, I'm in need of a good, pure burn if you have it..."[/color]

Baldwin smiled again, unfaltering and warm. He did enjoy chatter, but his stomach was growling at him as if it had taken control of his vocal cords away from him. He began to fish some money from his coat pocket, a few notes should more than cover the meal and the tip.
[hr]
[indent][b][i]November 18, 10:11 PM
East Commons, Outside Baldwin's Residence.[/i][/b][/indent]
[hr]
Baldwin turned the key in his lock until the lock reported with a loud click. The creaking was as loud as ever before being silenced by a loud slam. A nice night out and a lovely meal, but his sleep had been restless and it was beginning to show in his manner. Slouching, groaning and shuffling of his feet had already begun to show as he crossed from the West to the East Commons and by the time he had turned onto his street, his body was almost ready to fall apart.

A full belly helped, but his stomach still turned as he looked around at his home. Even in the dark he knew what was there. He didn't even bother to light a candle. He knew what he would be met with. Furniture disheveled, draperies and carpets torn and bunched up here and there, clothing everywhere in piles. The air smelled heavily of musk and sweat. He stuck a foot out and pulled it back with a hiss as his foot slid a short distance. In the dark he could smell it. It was...

Metallic.

Blood. He still hadn't cleaned since this morning. His chest throbbed angrily, or so he thought. With a growl, he hung up his coat and cane before proceeding to his bedroom, undressing as he went. He passed the statue of the marble woman and man, both of their faces marred by deep scores like an animal's claw-marks. Past the severely torn oil-painting, faint scraps at the edges colored green and orange and brown. Leaves for every season strewn about the floor.

Baldwin fell to his bed, half-made and still stained with red. He could concern himself with all of his affairs before his work began tomorrow. Surely the people would need someone to speak for them, and that was more important than a little cleaning around the domicile.

His eyelids grew heavy and finally sleep took him.