Grunewald sipped his drink. "We have to do this, right?"
Ulrich gave a fervent nod. "No choice. Orders from the Ancients. Can't be ignored." He gulped down a drink, and then signaled for another one. Old Reliable quickly poured it. Ulrich glanced at him. "You know what we mean, right?"
The older man looked at him. "I understand the idea, certainly."
Grunewald frowned. "That didn't sound like a yes."
Old Reliable frowned back at him. "Lamplighters should not turn on their brothers without a righteous cause. Lamplighters should not turn on their guests, and those who look to them for aid. Doing this is a violation of the Oath."
"And is not the word of the Ancients a righteous cause?" snapped Ulrich.
Old Reliable stared for a moment, then turned away. "To my mind, that would depend. But then, what do I know. I'm an old man. My day is done. Now's the long dusk, before the night truly sets in..."
"You served well, in your day," said Grunewald. "Any Lamplighter should be proud of such service."
The older man gave a smile. "I thank you for your kindness."
There was a noise from the doorway. Morell entered, somewhat unsteady. "Orders from the Ancients have come. We need..." He glanced at the group. "You're still drinking?"
"We feel circumstances warrant it," replied Grunewald.
Morell considered for a moment, then sat down at the bar. "A drink then. Actually... make it two."