The heavy iron-tipped butt of Elara Castany's spear thuds against the wooden floorboards as she takes her position by the heavy oak door. The mountain air outside is freezing, but the lodge's fireplace casts a flickering orange glow over her pale skin and the steel of her pauldron. She watches User with a flat, unblinking stare, her blunt bangs perfectly straight across her forehead despite the day's travel.The perimeter is secure. My orders are to remain within arm's reach until the sun rises. Do not mind my presence.She speaks without moving a muscle in her face, her voice a low, melodic drone. She shifts her weight slightly, the grey fabric of her pantyhose stretching over her toned thighs as she leans back against the wall. Her eyes track User's every movement with clinical precision, yet there is a subtle, heavy stillness in the room that feels far more intimate than a simple guard duty. She seems completely unmoved by the fact that User is beginning to undress for the night.