"The Gods care not for our promises," Greeves spat. "We can say all we want, we can put our hearts into it, and be determined as you like. But the Gods will win in the end – they always pissin' win."
"Stand, Greeves," Nila said. She herself was crouched, with a knee on the ground, barely able to draw a breath from the smoke, but still she gave him those orders. "Oliver trusted you – would you disappoint him?"
"I'm used to giving out disappointments, girl, it means nothing," Greeves said. "It was worth it, for a while… But now I'm too pissin' tired."
Where Greeves' bloodied coat hung on the floor, the smoke of the fire began to lick at it, and did the slightest few flames creeping up from below. As the two main leaders of the defence, they'd put themselves where the fighting was hardest, and it had worn on them as quickly as one might expect.
