Alfonso is not Good. He is the third son of a very minor Chelish lord, who has tasked him with babysitting the archon. Eumenes Davian does need guarding, but also needs a shocking number of other things, especially given that he refuses assistance with most tasks that one would generally have servants for. 

He squints at the people in the alley. "These people have no homes, Master Davian."

"But why has someone not invited them inside, then?"

It is miserably wet and he doesn't want to have this conversation. "It would be better to discuss it at the inn, Master Davian."

"We cannot leave them," cries Eumenes. "Why have they not gone inside?"

Uuuuuugh. "I imagine they don't know anyone in the city who has shelter. No one wants to share their home with a stranger."

"But we didn't know the innkeeper, and he lets us stay at the inn!"

"Well, yes, Master Davian, because we pay him. These people have no money to pay."

"There are undead in the streets!" he cries. He understands that one needs money to buy food; that part has been explained to him. But it does not cost anything to invite a man inside. It is unthinkable, impossible, that no one in a city of this size has pity enough in their heart to bring men and women and children in out of the cold. He has spoken to them. They are not villains. They are just -

Alfonso is looking at him sadly. Tired, and wet, and cold, like he is.

Well. Eumenes is a soldier of heaven. He cannot expect the people of Westcrown to do what he will not. He marches over to the alley and shouts above the rain.

"Good people, you should not be outside tonight! Please, follow me, and I will pay for your rooms at the inn."

They do not move, at first. They watch him, warily. He turns to Alfonso, gesturing helplessly.

"They do not know you, Master Davian. They fear you wish them harm."

"But there are zombies!"

"Yes, and the zombies haven't noticed them yet."

His lip wobbles. He looks as if he might cry, but he doesn't. 

"How much is it to stay at the inn, Alfonso?"

"Half-dollar or one silver a night, Master Davian."

Eumenes nods, and pulls out his coin purse. He rifles through it for silver pieces, and presses one into the hands of someone in each cluster of people. "Please! Get inside! You may go to the inn two streets that way, or another, if you know the address!"

They do move, then, slowly. Eumenes watches them. Tired, because he knows what he has to do.

"Come, Alfonso!"

- now he's going the wrong way, right after pointing out the inn. "Master Davian, the inn is that way."

He turns, apologetic. "Yes, Alfonso. But they will not be the only people in the city outside."

" - you want to pay for all of them?"

"Please, Alfonso. We are doing heaven's work."

"Master Davian, we don't have money to house everyone in the city."

"Then we shall house as many as we can," he says, walking along now without waiting for his guards. "Come. I want to be done as well, but we must finish, first."

He walks, still protesting. "Master Davian, if you spend all the money you have on common vagrants, you will not have any to pay your guardsmen."

"You are right," he says, and thinks for a moment. "I will pay you when we return home."

"But what'll we eat -"

He turns, then, and stops walking. Draws himself up as seriously as he can.

"Alfonso. You are a soldier. These people are in danger, and all else has abandoned them. I do not say that there will not be danger. I say that it is our work. Will you stand with me?"

Well, at the end of the day, what the fuck else is he going to do? Get hired by a different noble, maybe, but Eumenes is his liege, and controls all his family's lands. There's little to be done about it.

"We'll stand with you. But it's customary to pay extra for such, Master Davian."

It isn't, really, but the kid doesn't know that.