A man sat with his knees huddled to his chest and his back resting against a gray stone battlement. A large-brimmed hat covered his eyes and protected his face from the freezing rain and howling winds. A symbolic red eye with three fangs below, haphazardly sewn onto his clothes, signified his status as an Overseer for Duke Wilson. His job? To valiantly protect the walls and Blackthorn from outside threats while also observing for potential suspicious individuals or those slacking off from work.
"Think of the gold coin… think of the gold coin. Payday is tomorrow," he muttered like a trance, blowing lungfuls of air onto his frostbitten hands in a futile attempt to warm them.
