Belnot's stomach rumbled as she looked out over the sparkling darkness of the Green. Unlike her peers she never minded guard duty on the traitor's path. It was peaceful.

On the days she remembered to bring her snacks anyway.

The ravenous orc warrior groaned as she pushed her head back until it bumped against the bark behind her. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on anything beside her own grumbling stomach.

Behind her the slightest waft of cooking meat broke any attempt to focus on her duties, and the guard resigned herself to a long night of torture.

The slightest ray of hope at the end of a long shift was the possibility that the council members wouldn't finish off the array of food set out for the meeting. Some of the shorter sessions had leftovers the staff happily polished off once the Chief's had left with their entourages. Belnot would have to be quick, moving the moment that she was relieved of her station, but she could make it in time to grab a bite before rushing home for a proper meal.

Her bond, Noctu, would leave a late dinner steaming on the table. She could practically taste it already.

Time passed as Belnot listened to the council start up behind her. The voices of the gathered clans rumbling through the wooden walls until they hit her ears as a dull drone. Order was called for, the ceremonies started. The low buzz of a dozen conversations became one distorted voice, words still unintelligible through the thick outer walls.

Sighing, the guard pushed herself back towards the edge of her viewing platform to peer down into the shadows of the old path.

The blade slid into her belly, just under the edge of her armor.

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Before Belnot had time to gasp it twisted in her assailant's grip. A hooked piece of metal dug into her flesh until it found purchase and she was pulled down.

Throwing up her hands to catch herself, the guard just barely managed to catch the second blade lashing out for her eye. It plunged into her palm instead, and she pulled it aside on instinct. Her aura flared to life, and in the sudden light she caught sight of her attacker.

The woman looked just as shocked as Belnot felt.

To her left there was a sharp sound, like slapping wood. A bolt the length of her forearm tipped with scrap iron smashed into her side, just under the armpit. The guard pulled in a ragged breath to scream, but all she felt was a bubbling sensation. The lung was pierced. She choked on the rising blood soaked bile when she tried to call out anyway.

Flitting across her skin with a feather's touch her aura quailed in fear and anguish.

It knew what was coming just as well as she did.

One assassin she might be able to take on, even surprised and wounded. Especially one so ragged and inexperienced. Even now Belnot gripped the hand of the shocked black clad woman to haul her closer. A more experienced killer would have known to abandon the blade when the first strike failed. This was an amateur, and Belnot should be able to end the fight quickly enough to find help.

The second assassin, who even now was fumbling as she reloaded her crossbow while holding onto the platform with one hand, made this fight impossible.

Retreat was an option, even with severe wounds Belnot might be able to crawl through the doorway. But that would mean pressing the key to the ancient lock. Letting these killers in. They would get through given time anyway. Still. It would be dereliction of duty.

No. Belnot had more honor than that.

Her good hand crushed her assailant's wrist with aura fueled strength, and she reached forward to take the woman by the collar with her wounded hand for good measure. The shift set her body screaming, but the pain simply sharpened the guard's senses further.

The killer flared her aura, weak blue wisps forming, no match for a warrior's stern and unyielding aura. The knife wielding orc lashed out again, this time aiming for Belnot's neck. The guard caught the flat of the blade with her chin, not quite stopping the steel, but keeping it from being a deathblow.

Then, entwined with her murderer, Belnot tipped her weight forward.

Though doomed, the woman took satisfaction in the terror in her killer's eyes as their combined weight ripped the assassin's spiked boots out of the tree's bark. A heartbeat later they were tumbling through the darkness with the wind in their ears. The distance to the bottom was measured in heartbeats, and while Belnot spent those precious moments thinking of her bond her killer spent them screaming into the night.

The last thought Belnot had before she smashed into the gardens below was an apology to Noctu for a thousand broken promises. Mostly the last one she spoke. That she would come home safe.