Claiming the High Archive

The shadows thickened across the top shelf, threatening to swallow my command post in darkness. I marched behind the heavy brass clock and uncovered a dark, leather-bound bookmark ribbon trailing loose over the shelf's edge. A slack tether invites ambush. Gripping the textured woven strap with my gauntlet, I coiled it three times around the butt of my trident and wrenched it taut against the shelf edge. The loose vanguard is bound, and the high bastion stands impenetrable tonight.