Down in Deathrock, the customary perimeter had been established around the half-citadel.
The Brigades were the only ones present. Since this wasn't an active Demon Break, Kingdom Rangers weren't necessary.
A few of them were outside the tents, sitting on iron chairs, boots up on crates, speaking over cups of steaming coffee while the wind dragged ash across the outer line of Deathrock.
One pair argued about whether the commander's awful taste in television had finally gotten worse. Another complained that the coffee tasted horrible. Someone else, half-buried in a folding chair, was trying to win a dice game with two others while pretending not to care that he was losing.
A lean one, separated from the rest of them straightened on his chair.
