Corporal Lidra doesn't care much for her job in the Bond City Guard, but when an ancient temple is unearthed, she does her duty and leads a squad of five into the depths of the city.
What she and her fellow guards discover lurking beneath the streets is the hint of a mystery they might only barely survive, let alone try to understand.
But in the grand tradition of Bond's best and brightest, those who serve and protect as long as they're getting paid and allowed a few daily mugs of ale, the corporal and her fellows do what they do best.
And what would that be? It's simple. If you can't understand it, kill it, and if you can't kill it, stomp it flat until it's busted and broken and oozing. After all, it's just another day on the job for Bond's protectors, and the ale's getting warm.
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This short story takes place within the same world as that of the author's other fantasy writings. Hopefully you will find a little humor here, just a little, and a decent enough tale in this short story of 10,000 words.
