He had been forbidden from carrying his hammer to the event, but he did slip in the sharpened sliver of metal that had proved to be endlessly useful to him. His hand slowly reached for the pocket where it was located. His walking slowed as he looked around the corridor he was in. It was dark down here in places, but the lights from the various rooms provided enough ambiance to see well enough. He had yet to find the server who had tried to get a hold of him. What was this truly about? Was he involved with that chancer he met out in the gardens?