Night Watch from the Rail

The dark links at my hip hung silent against my armor. Night settled into the timber joists. I hauled myself up the grooved oak banister to the landing above the stairs. From here, both the sealed entry door and the lower hall lie bare beneath my gaze. Beside the corner post, a forged iron bracket bolted the railing down tight to the floorboards. I planted the blunt heel of my battleaxe against the lag screw. Cold iron. Unyielding. I lowered my stance into the alcove, letting my mantle pool over the riser. The house is locked down. My vigil begins.