Watch duty. A duty to watch. Watching was easy. It was natural. Watching was what Dumplin did best. Stress had made her sharp eyes more powerful. She could spot things that weren't even there. She stood in the tower and watched. She watched the dwarves of the fortress go about their business, she watched the Baboons patrol, she watched the locked hatch behind her to ensure she wasn't surprised.
The Baboons had decided that Dumplin was no longer fit for patrol. The Baboons had deemed her unfit for patrol. She was the least valued member of the least valued squad in the entire fortress and the contempt she felt for her fellow dwarves burned in her heart. But the watchtower was peaceful, almost sacred in it's stillness, she stood sentinel watching over the dwarves from high above as they went about their labor.
She stood in perfect silence until figures appeared on the horizon. Traders she told herself. There was a large group coming into view, either traders with wagons loaded with wares or warriors with beasts and blades. She held her breath as they drew near. If she was wrong the fortress wouldn't have a chance to lock down before the attackers reached the gates. A few tense seconds passed before she breathed a sigh of relief, the group was in fact a Drow trade caravan.
“Ambush!” came a fell cry from the other side of the battlements. Dumplin's eyes flew to the western forest and felt her heart sink.