Along the border of the Darkmoon's territory guard station had been built every hundred feet or so. However, most of them had long ago been rundown and taken over by weeds, vines, tree roots, and other plants whose seeds had found their way in and sprouted roots. The only guards occupying them were the spiders, insects, and critters that had made them their own personal shelters. The only posts that were still in good shape and being used had been the ones stationed at the four main entrances of the territory.
At the northern entrance, An older heavyset man sat slumped in a metal folding chair, snoring heavily as a string of drool dripped from the thick tip of his unkempt mustache. His chin rested on his chest while his fingers interlocked each other over his round belly. The sound of a
