A Quiet Redoubt

I stepped into the narrow crevice between two upright hardbound tomes on the bottom shelf. The high paper edges formed sheer ramparts on both flanks, shielding the alcove from the draft. Deciding the perimeter was secure for the evening, I relinquished my grip on my weapon. I leaned the dark blade upright against a heavy brass bookend, its crimson glow resting dim against the metal face. Lowering myself down, I sat with my back braced against the buckram spine of a book, resting my gauntlets flat over my greaves. In this quiet shadowed haven, I allowed the tension to drain from my guard.